Deep Dive
Shownotes Transcript
America, we are endowed by our Creator with certain unalienable rights, life, liberty, and the pursuit of happiness. By honoring your sacred vocation of education, you impact your family, your friends, and your community. At Grand Canyon University, our online bachelor's, master's, and doctoral education degree programs allow you to balance online coursework with observational and hands-on experience in the field. Find your purpose at GCU. Private. Christian. Affordable.
Visit gcu.edu. Are you a fan of podcasts? What about audio dramas? Do you like suspense, mystery, action, and comedy? Of course you fucking do. Let me introduce myself.
My name's Edith Dietrich, and I'm fucking great. I'm the secretary of one of the greatest PIs in the world, Mr. James Locke. Mr. J to me. He's the fucking greatest. He's the star of Atlas Avenue Beat, an audio drama created by Seven Lamb Productions. If that sounds interesting to you, visit sevenlamb.com or search for Atlas Avenue Beat wherever you listen to podcasts. I mean, hell, it's everywhere. And don't forget to rate and review, damn it.
The huge bear was charging. I closed my eyes and braced for impact. Again, classical music. I slowly opened my eyes to see the bear standing no more than five feet away. Oh shit. He turned around and ran back into the woods.
Not a fan of classical music either. My body relaxed and I was able to breathe again. The music continued to play. What the hell was going on? Mike, do you copy? I'm here! Where the hell were you? You are not going to believe what just happened. I quickly told the story about the bear encounter and the classical music. Jesus, are you okay? It ran off. Not a fan of Beethoven? I don't think it was Beethoven.
Head back, Mikey. Did you get a hold of Gene? Yes, and he said to head back. Wait two days and see if they pass by the tower. If they're heading north, they have to. And if they don't? Gene says you'll have to hike back. Really? Is there a fire pit there? No. Good. If you can, leave them a note telling them they can't camp there.
I didn't bring paper and a pen. But you're a writer. So that means I should always be ready to jot something down? Isn't that part of the creative process? I used to use a recorder to do that. Then leave a recorded message. I said used to. I don't have the recorder on me either. What good are you? I can't believe I have to return to the place I was almost mauled. Bet you won't forget the bear spray next time.
Two days later and I headed back to Site 5. No hikers past the tower, so I figured they may still be there. But when I reached the campsite, it was empty. No tent, no sleeping bags, no backpacks, no trash. Amber, you copy? Please tell me music's not about to kick in. About to? I'm already here. Trust me, I didn't forget it.
Not gonna go through that again. I held it the entire time just in case I needed to use it quickly. Still should have told me. Yeah, well, I read the instructions five times and I still don't understand how this stuff works. Seeing a bear in the same spot within a week is highly unlikely. Really? You have a better chance of getting attacked by a shark. Is that true? No. I made that up. Figures. I bet it made you feel a little better. For a whopping five seconds. Better than nothing. Anyway...
I'm calling to let you know the hikers are gone. Really? Gone? Yeah, nothing here. Well, that's good then. You didn't see them pass by the tower? Nope. That's interesting. Is it? Mildly. So I walked here for nothing. Hey, exercise is always good. I would have rather been writing. And I would rather be at a spa being fed grapes by a skintily clad pool boy with a six pack. We don't always get what we want, Mikey. Really? A pool boy?
It's always been a fantasy of mine. How boring. I used to dream bigger. But realism has set in with age. I noticed the carving in the tree again. I walked over to it and rubbed my finger along the bark. What about you? I guess... A naughty schoolgirl? An upset librarian with a paddle is more your cup of tea. Come on, think outside the box. An intellectual girl with glasses and short skirt who whispers story ideas into your ear when you get writer's block?
Hey, Amber. Does an eye with a line through it mean anything to you? Um, what? If I were to draw an eye with a vertical line through it, would that mean anything to you? Is this a riddle? It's a question. In riddle form? Just a question. I... I don't know. Okay. Are you snorting that bear spray, Mikey? I'm gonna head back now. Hikers are gone. Crisis averted. Next two weeks dragged. When I say dragged, I mean dragged.
I was writing more of my story and Amber was trying to help. Every time I got stuck or needed a little push to continue, Amber was there to offer advice or pose questions to help further the story. At first it was annoying, but now I encouraged it. Amber helped me stay focused. If she didn't constantly ask questions, I'd probably be taking more day naps and pacing around the cabin daydreaming about other projects.
Wait, does her daughter remember Jason at all? Like, when they were dating? I had outlined several chapters now and had three chapters completely fleshed out. Although I felt the third chapter lacked something. But I couldn't put my finger on it. Maybe you should present Olivia's family so that Jason gets some idea of why she is the way she is. In chapter three? Yeah. Did you ever meet the family? Yeah, it was awkward. Just awkward?
Let's just say I spent a couple holidays with them, and each time I did, there was some fighting and something glass broke. Include that. At first, Amber was reluctant to give her two cents, but that lasted all of one day. Now she would call me in the middle of the night with a new idea or question based on my story. I guess that was better than the classical music of tractors. In fact, nights had remained peaceful. So peaceful, I hadn't needed to take a sleeping pill.
I was getting used to this fire lookout thing. Every morning I woke up and made some coffee, took an hour or two to fire watch, which was really bird watching time. And I worked on my novel for a couple hours, ate lunch, watched for fires, and then wrote another few hours before bed. And at the end of the week I took stock of my food and supplies and let Amber know so she could inform Gene. And every day Amber and I talked on and off. It was weird being so friendly with someone I'd never met in person.
In the age of the internet, I guess that sort of thing was common, but for me it was odd. How are you on coffee? Plenty. I've only gone through two bags. Okay, so really we're looking at canned soups, beef jerky, dried fruit, and water. Yeah, I mean, I'm hardly low, but if they're going to deliver... Jean says they'll do a food drop in a few weeks, so you might as well take advantage. I do. Then put in an order. Wait, food drop? So I'm going to get a care package via parachute?
You sure are. I have to do it this way. Works for me. Amber told me they replenished food supplies three times. It was probably overkill, but ever since they had an issue with someone being cut off due to a fire, they decided to do drops more often. That happened four years ago, and ever since they made sure supplies were plentiful and regularly restocked.
The trick is to tell them you're out of certain supplies just to get more. Even if it isn't true. That's lying, Amber. It's survival, Mikey. How do you think I got so many banana chips? I thought you brought those. I tell them I'm out all the time, so they keep me well-stocked. But I didn't get any banana chips. Sorry. It was a special request by me. Well, put in a good word. The things I do for you. Thanks, Ambie.
Don't do that. It doesn't work for my name. While Amber called Gene to give him an update on supplies in the surrounding environment, I decided to try to do more writing. But before I even turned on my laptop, I could see it. Smoke billowing from the treetops. Oh, shit. I quickly grabbed the radio. Amber, you copy? No answer. Amber! Amber, you there? Amber, pick up! Amber! Amber! She still must be talking to Gene. Amber. Amber. Amber! Amber!
Amber! What the hell do you want, Mikey? Damn! There's a fire! What? Where? Um, northwest side. No, wait, yes. No, northeast side. My east. Take a breather, Mikey. Where is it? I'm not seeing smoke. I went to the window, then to my large wall map. It's north, past over arch. Towards the lake? Enos Lake? Yeah. Uh, south of that, I think. Okay. What do I do?
Well, first off, you calm down. And secondly, you wait until I call Gene back. Oh. Give me a sec. I went out onto the walkway with my binoculars and watched the thin trail of smoke rise into the sky. It was miles away. Go ahead. I let Gene know. He wants you to keep an eye on it. That's... that's it? Yeah. I can't spot it from over here. Maybe if it heads north, but with the wind patterns, I'm thinking it'll go south.
Shouldn't they come and put it out? If it continues, they will, but Gene says there's a storm coming. That should help put it out. How did it start? Who knows? It couldn't have been a lightning strike. There hasn't been a thunderstorm in over a week. Thank you, Detective. I'm really supposed to just watch it? Welcome to being a fire lookout. A day later and a storm did appear. The storm made short work of the fire. When it passed, the smoke was gone.
And yet I somehow feel unfulfilled. Being a lookout wasn't hard at all. How did I not discover this job sooner? My fault for not using job sites to their full potential. It was 5 o'clock and I was having trouble focusing on my writing. I made a cup of coffee and walked around the walkway of the tower waiting for Amber to call me.
She always called after her workouts, but today the radio remained silent. I'd gotten so used to our talks I decided to give her a call. "Amber? Amber, you copy?" That was weird. I went inside and sat at the desk. I didn't begin writing. Instead, I sat there with my legs propped up, staring at the blank screen. I didn't feel like writing. I closed my eyes, leaned back, and stretched. When I opened my eyes, I noticed one of the wood ceiling panels had a weird triangular chip in the corner. It was the only one.
I didn't know what compelled me, but I moved my chair and climbed up. I pushed the wood panel and it lifted slightly. Hmm. I pushed the panel straight up and slid it to the side. I didn't want to put my hands in there in case there were any spiders, scorpions, or rats. I grabbed my flashlight and a wooden spoon. I used the spoon to feel around, but I found nothing. The hell was I even looking for? I tried pushing up another panel, but it didn't budge. None of the other panels moved. Why this one?
I moved the panel to the opposite side and once again used the spoon to feel around. That's when it struck something. I could move it. Whatever it was. I slid the object until it was visible. It was a small journal. I pulled it down and wiped the cover. I opened it and quickly flipped through. My mouth fell agape when I noticed the pages and pages of eyes. Open eyes with vertical lines. Every other page was filled with crazy ramblings. I picked a random page and read the first sentence.
It is there even though they deny it. What do they know? And what do they not want me to know? I flip to another page, written several times in a list format. Trust no one. I flip to another page, another large drawing of the eye. They're watching. I continue to flip through. What the hell was this? Jesus! I nearly fell out of my chair. Mikey, you there? I'm here. How's it going, Amber?
Hey, so, I am... I just finished talking to Gene and, well, that tent you saw at Site 5 might belong to a father and son. Oh? Why do you say that? Because a father and son have recently been classified as missing. Missing? They never made it back home. They were supposed to be back three days ago, but haven't shown. Family was worried and contacted the ranger station. But it's been weeks. Gene knows. So does the family. They went camping for two weeks? I guess so, Mikey.
How do you know it's their tent? I don't. That's why I said it might belong to them. Well, they didn't come this way. I told Gene that. He wants me to have you check Eno's Lake. It used to be a popular fishing spot for hikers before they closed that trail. It's pretty late. Not now. Tomorrow. More hiking? I'm afraid so. Great. Sorry. Yeah, yeah. Hey, Mikey. Don't forget the bear spray.
What was his name again?
Oh shit.
I decided to stop reading. I took a sleeping pill for the first time in weeks. It didn't work right away, but as I read, I could feel my eyelids getting heavy. Eventually, I drifted off. I once again found myself floating above my childhood home, watching my father drive away. I tried calling out to him, but he didn't hear me. He never heard me.
Starring Jack Austin as Mike.
Gina Coyle as Amber, Brian Messick as Gene. Music provided by Kevin MacLeod of Incompetech.com and Brett Wilkins at facebook.com slash WilkinsMusicFL. If you enjoy Tower 4, visit 7lam.com for more audio dramas such as this. Also, don't forget to follow 7LAM on Facebook, Instagram, and Twitter at 7LAM Podcasts. This has been a 7LAM production.
Save on O'Reilly Brake Parts Cleaner. Get two cans of O'Reilly Brake Parts Cleaner for just $8. Valid in-store only at O'Reilly Auto Parts. O-O-O'Reilly Auto Parts.