Chapter 44 - The Dry Storm
Mateo filed the emergency injunction the very next morning, but the slow, agonizing bureaucracy of the state courts was no match for the speed of nature.
On a suffocatingly hot Thursday evening, the sky turned a strange, bruised purple. The air grew incredibly heavy, completely devoid of moisture.
Ramón stood in the center of the orchard, looking up at the sky.
"Dry lightning,"
Ramón whispered, a cold chill of absolute dread running down his spine.
Suddenly, a massive, jagged bolt of lightning ripped across the dark sky, striking the exact center of the high, timber-choked mountain ridge owned by Ironwood Logging.
There was no rain to douse the strike.
Within minutes, a thin, gray column of smoke began to curl upward into the night sky.
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"Mateo!"
Ramón shouted, his voice echoing violently across the quiet farm.
