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Digging in the Dust

Written by Leo_Todrius

Supported by my Patrons

There were times when even silence was not silent. A slow, steady tone stretched across the parched and barren landscape. It was a subtle roar like the echo of an ancient, forgotten ocean. It was the sound of wind in a place where there was none. The land was impossibly flat for miles in every direction, almost from horizon to horizon. From such a great distance, the increase of elevation that formed a rim around the region was almost invisible. It was enough, however, to catch the edge of the wind and produce the ominous sound that filled the atmosphere. It would have been enough to drive anyone mad given enough time, but it was only one of many such ways in Ghost Lake.

Some said that nature had an infinite palette of colors to choose from. If that had been the case, the lone barrens had been forged with hues of ivory, bone, ash and dust. The entire expanse was completely devoid of color. From above it was almost painful to look at, reflecting and refracting the sun like some mirror made of earth. It had been desolate for centuries and the few that had attempted to survey the area had each given it equally despairing nicknames. There had not been a single redeeming quality, absolutely nothing of intrinsic value on the surface... but even nature's most unforgiving, unwelcoming landscape could not hold back humanity's curiosity, ingenuity and persistence.

A large plume of dust rose up behind the modified school bus as it rumbled along the barrens. The yellow paint had taken on an orange tinge, baked by the sun and caked with dust and rust. The windows glinted harshly, casting out strobes of light across the dust. The windows had been treated some years back in a vain attempt to keep the sunlight from turning the interior into an oven. It had worked so well that now the bus had to drive with every window down and maintain a good speed to keep the interior survivable, though just how survivable was debatable as more dust drifted into the back of the vehicle, kicked up by the front tires.

The bus creaked and rattled, groaning as it traversed the distance. While there were many aspects about the bus that remained unchanged from its years as a school bus, other parts had clearly been retrofitted over the years. The most distinct feature was that all of the seats in the back half had been removed, making room for supply runs to town. Barrels of water, palettes of supplies were stacked up nearly to the ceiling. Between the supplies, the dust filling the rubber traction mat running down the center of the bus and the fact that the driver was wearing a bandanna, Thiago felt like he'd stepped into some Mad Max sequel... Then again, sometimes reality was stranger than fiction.

The twenty three year old sat five rows back on the right side of the bus. It had been the same spot he always picked in High School. With so much uncertainty in his life, it was one small piece of comfort. As Thiago caught a faint reflection in the glass, he did have to smile to himself about how far he'd come. In high school he'd been one of dozens of Mestizo kids with tawny light tan skin and straight black hair. Now he sported a faint split mustache he was fond of and the tips of his hair had been bleached and tinged orange. He still wore his faded blue jeans but he'd been given the orange t-shirt of Camp Lonecross which seemed to suit him well.

Every so often Thiago would lean out of his seat and peer ahead, trying to deduce where they were going. Apart from the faintest of tire ruts, he still couldn't see anything. The bus ride had already been three hours and he wasn't sure how much further was left. The young man slid back into his seat, his eyes moving to regard the paperwork he'd been given. Camp Lonecross had been branded as the newest generation of public works projects like Job Corps or the WPA. To Thiago it had represented a job at a critical moment in his life and it paid far better than anything in town. The catch was that it was going to be grueling physical labor in difficult and remote conditions. Thankfully Thiago wasn't afraid of hard work.

After another half an hour, something finally appeared in the distance. Thiago was sure it had been steadily growing in size for many minutes, but in the back of his mind he imagined it as appearing from the dust like a ghost town. The young man had slid over until only one butt cheek was on the seat, his leg keeping him upright as he tried to get a better view of the camp. There seemed to be two big wooden buildings and a few others that radiated out in a half circle. Four vehicles of various types were parked in a makeshift line off to the side of camp. Thiago took a breath, pausing a bit as he smelled the dust in the air. It smelled ancient, earthy but clean.

At long last the bus finally slowed down, rumbling into the center of the camp. Thiago looked out, chestnut brown eyes peering into one of the two larger structures. There were lines of tables with benches on either side as well as rows of folding chairs and a piece of cloth stretched out like a projection screen. That had to be the mess hall which meant that the other building was the barracks. The bus rumbled and lurched as it came to a stop and the engine was turned off. The growl of the motor died away but the soft pops and tings of the engine cooling down began to echo through the metal frame.

"Do you need any help?" Thiago asked, calling up to the driver. Green eyes glanced back at him from the rear view mirror, his eyebrow arching to hint at an intrigued smile that his bandanna hid.

"I like the initiative kid, but you've got orientation first. We've got enough hired hands to help unload the bus in the meantime." the driver said. Thiago gave a nod at that and pushed himself upright, grabbing the small canvas bag that held what few possessions he'd brought with him. He moved down the narrow aisle, looking at the empty seats. With one last head nod to the driver, he turned and moved down the steps, dropping down onto the dusty ground. It was firm but oddly smooth like dust settled on thick glass.

As Thiago moved away from the bus, it was only then that he started to sense movement from all around. Eyes peered out from the mess hall and the door to the barracks. The sound of falling water came from what must have been the bath house. Thiago tried not to look too curious or certainly not overwhelmed as he looked around. He saw a variety of faces; thin and wide, light and dark, innocent and mischievous. The one thing they all held in common, however, was that they were young men around his age.

"Fresh meat!" one of the young men barked. He was solidly built in a tank top and khaki pants, his warm brown skin dulled by the everpresent dust that seemed to cling to everything. As Thiago approached the mess hall a younger man with messy spiky light brown hair looked up, peering through some sort of goggles. He'd been taking notes on scratch paper pinned to a cracked neon green plastic clipboard. He blinked a few times, looking up at Thiago.

"You probably want to check in with the director, he's over in cabin one." the eighteen year old said. Thiago paused and nodded.

"Sounds good. Whatcha working on?" Thiago asked. The younger man's eyes widened in surprise. A snort came from the doorway behind him.

"Geek's working on his 'calculations' or whatever. Seems like a waste of time to me. We work hard day in and day out in the ass crack of nowhere. Why in the hell would anyone want to spend their off time doing math?" The voice was derisive, contemptuous but with an edge of false confidence that made it apparent he felt threatened. Thiago looked up into the door frame to see a stocky young man whose arms were nearly sunburned as red as his ginger colored hair and well established freckles. The sides of his head had been shaved but the top had been left to grow long and pulled back into a short ponytail, revealing even more freckles around his ears.

"What are the calculations for?" Thiago asked. The redhead's lips tightened that his comments had not been heeded. The smaller youth looked up at the would-be bully and then the newcomer.

"Just..." he hesitated, "Just trying to figure out the geography. There has to be a reason we're here."

"Oh there's a reason alright." Another voice came from nearby, this time a scrawny, lanky young man with long blond hair pulled back into a ponytail. He bit into a green apple with a satisfying crunch before pale blue eyes darted back over, "A reason that this place is so big and so flat, so completely unremarkable other than the perfect rim around the outside." he said in a conspiratorial tone.

"Yeah, it's god's anus." The bully snorted. The geek rolled his eyes at the comment but the blond was undeterred.

"Don't you see, man? It's obvious... This is Area 53... Ghost Lake is the landing pad for some ancient alien spaceship. We're here to conduct repairs so it can come back!" he said.

"The erosion patterns show that it is a natural phenomenon. It also isn't a perfect ring, the rocks at the eastern edge are-" The geek was interrupted by a grunt from the red head.

"You are all as crazy as the pioneers and surveyors that came out here before!" he declared, "You were all there when we found that old sign, 'Fool's Lake'. Every few generations people come out here because they think they're going to find water or gold or whatever. They dig in the dust and they wear themselves out and waste all their money and in the end they don't find anything. We are here because the government is stupid enough to pay us big bucks to dig in the dirt and that's it. You should find something better to do with your off time rather than filling it with conspiracy theories." he said, shooting them both a look before he turned to gaze at Thigo before he finished moving down the stairs and crossed over toward the cabin that was euphemistically marked 'gym'.

"Rusty's just a little worn out." the blond said after a long moment, "Been here longer than any of us." he said with a bit of a sad tone.

"And he's seen more people come and go than anyone. It must get lonely." the geek added, looking down at his papers. The blond took another bite of his apple.

"Which only gets worse if you don't introduce yourselves properly." the blond added, "The pipsqueak there is Curtis, but the others call him Cut. I am Lucky in that I was lucky enough that my name is good enough for a nickname, and the brooding bruiser there as you caught on is Rusty."

"I'm Thiago Ortiz..." Thiago said. Lucky's face scrunched up a bit at that before he hopped out of the window and clapped Thiago on the shoulder.

"We'll figure out a better name for you eventually, boss. Anyway, we better get you checked in!" he said, guiding Thiago towards cabin one. Thiago looked over his shoulder.

"See you later, Cut?" he said. The geek looked up in surprise and smiled at that.

"Sure!" he said, thankful for the social graces the other had shown. Thiago looked over at Lucky and how he seemed generally pleased with life despite his conspiracy theory. It was never easy when a bunch of people had to both work and live together, but so far it hadn't seemed that bad. Maybe this was all going to work out...

****

Late afternoon sunlight filtered through the shades of the cabin, casting a golden glow across the polished wood desk, the shelves and the collection of fossils, geodes and antiques. A sextant sat in a place of prominence as did an old pistol. There were certificates and documents framed on the walls as well as one small succulent plant that Thiago couldn't determine if it was real or fake. All in all, it seemed to be a comfortable office even if the window air conditioner unit seemed to be trying its best to keep the interior a respectable temperature.

"Miss Cole..." the camp director murmured, reviewing the paperwork that Thiago had proffered, "Did Miss Cole explain exactly how hard this job was?" he asked, looking up. The director was in his mid forties, his shoulders broad and built with muscle. Even his neck seemed built out, holding his head up with seemingly no effort. Between the director's body shape and the way his dark blond hair was shorn short but still had an edge to it reminded Thiago of all of the movies about military life his dad had watched with him growing up.

"Yes, I know that it's going to be challenging..." Thiago said. The director gave a sad, wry chuckle before drawing in a breath.

"I doubt that you do, but the question is if you'll be able to withstand the actual rigors when you're faced with them." he said, "We dig five and a half hours in the morning and three and a half in the evening with a gap during the hottest part of the day. While we have some equipment to assist, a lot of the work is done by hand. Eighty percent of new hires don't last three days... and that's after the food and water and housing, not to mention another trip to town to drop them back off again. Let me make it abundantly clear, this isn't a disney movie. If you are here, you are here to work. Do I make myself clear?" the director asked. Thiago's brow furrowed a little.

"Yes... sir?" he asked, feeling as if the speech bordered on one coming from someone with a military background. The director showed the first chink in his armor as a slight quirk formed at the corner of his mouth.

"I like the respect, though Director will do fine." he commented, looking back at the paperwork. Thiago shifted a little in his seat.

"If I can ask, director, what... are we digging for?" Thiago asked. The director paused and looked up as if reappraising Thiago.

"Camp Lonecross acts as an extension of previous geological and anthropological surveys of Ghost Lake. We have half a dozen survey sites we work on in rotation. In addition, fuel permitting, we have a long standing project to advance an aqueduct that would make the camp far more self sufficient." The director said. Thiago looked a bit surprised.

"I'm not really an anthropologist, how will I know if I come across something important?" Thiago asked. The director smiled more and then started to laugh.

"You're probably closer to an anthropologist than any of my men." he smirked, "If you find anything of interest you are to pause work and report it to your supervisor. They will report it to whichever agency is associated with the find to see if the experts need to be brought in." he said. Thiago smiled a little.

"That's why you work on different sites in rotation, isn't it? If you have to sit around and wait on one, you can still make progress on the others." Thiago said. The director shook his head before standing up. He moved over to a small red mini-fridge in the corner. He popped the seal and withdrew two glass bottles of cherry cola, setting one on the desk in front of Thiago.

"Do you know how many weeks it takes some of my boys to figure that out?" the director asked, "You've got a good head on your shoulders. I think you've got what it takes to be the dig leader. Too many of the boys want to push on through until the job is done and might miss the important things. I need your keen eyes to make sure we don't miss anything, or worse, break something that might get us fined. Think you can do that?" he asked. Thiago took the cola and popped the lid off, holding the cool glass in his hands. He smiled a bit.

"I know I can." he replied with a mask of confidence. It was half true at least. He knew he had what it took as far as his own constitution, but the big question was if the other boys would accept him as their leader with him being so fresh off the bus. Cut and Lucky seemed easy going enough, but Rusty and some of the other men might have had other ideas. Thiago took a sip of the cola, trying to think how he was going to cement his new position.

****

After a few hours it was already starting to feel like Thiago had put in a solid day's work. After his meeting with the director he'd gotten an orientation to some of the tools and equipment that the camp used, as well as the safety training videos for the heavier equipment. There had been paperwork, more videos, then another partial tour of the infirmary, warehouse and garage. By the time that Thiago had finally been released, the sun was steadily sinking beneath the western edge of the rim, leaving the sky a burnt orange color that turned the colorless terrain into a martian landscape.

The wooden steps echoed as Thiago stepped up into the bunkhouse, looking around. Of all the structures, this one seemed the most rustic. It wasn't quite like a log cabin, but it did seem like something out of the forties. It took Thiago a moment to realize that he couldn't see a window on the front or the sides and if there was one on the other side of the structure, it was obscured by the partition wall down the middle. There were bunk beds spaced out every ten feet with wooden cubbies spanning the gap between them. The cubbies rose to waist height and the top made a sort of counter and night stand on which a menagerie of lamps, fans, alarm clocks and other devices had been strewn out.

Thiago looked down at the modest bag he held in his hand before he started walking down the aisle along the bunks. There seemed to be a variety of sheets and blankets ranging from plain white cotton to elaborate geometric shapes in shades of blue, one bed that seemed to be covered in some sort of red silk and another that was an inflatable mattress instead of the box spring. Thiago had ventured several feet in before he realized that the scent had a distinct musk to it, the sort of spicy aroma that came from putting several men together in one place. It was sort of like the locker room in PE but with bunk beds.

"Looking for a place to lay down?" A deep, smooth voice came. Thiago turned, meeting eyes with one of the workers he hadn't seen before. He was on his own bunk in just his khaki pants, his muscled chest glistening in the dim light, his dark afro taking up most of his pillow and counterbalanced by the three inch goatee hanging down from his chin. His caramel brown eyes looked Thiago over appraisingly, "I've got some room if you want to share." he offered. Thiago was confused for a moment, then stunned, and then - to his own surprise, a bit turned on. He had gone from a lack of understanding to playing out the scenario in his head in mere moments, his nipples hardening and his groin swelling. A blush crept up on his cheeks as he opened his mouth, trying to find a polite way to respond.

"I don't think he's ready for that yet, Trip." Lucky said as he came up behind Thiago, clapping him on the shoulder with a hand, "I mean, there isn't even a safety video for that yet." he added with a grin. The muscled man gave a shrug.

"Well, when you're ready for the heavy equipment, you know where to find me." he said. Thiago nodded numbly as Lucky all but pushed him down the aisle, guiding him toward the far end of the bunk house.

"Was he... hitting on me?" Thiago asked once they were out of earshot. Lucky's eyebrows went up at that.

"Y... yeah?" Lucky said, "Was that your first time, boss?" he asked. Thiago looked confused.

"It happens a lot?" Thiago asked. Lucky chuckled.

"Around here, yeah... I think that's another reason Rusty's always on the war path. For a red head he's sure got blue balls." Lucky said before he let go of Thiago and stood up straighter, gesturing outward with his hands, "Welcome to Area 53!" he said proudly, gesturing to the last three sets of bunks in the corner of the bunk house. Thiago looked at them and then back at the blond conspiracy theorist.

"I thought you said the whole lake was Area 53?" he asked. Lucky frowned a bit.

"Well, I mean it is... But we needed something catchy for our spot." Lucky said. There was movement from the top bunk as Cut rolled over, looking at them both. Even without his goggles, he still had a tan line along his forehead that indicated their frequent presence.

"One time when we went into town for a party, Lucky stole some road signs to put up here. The director was not pleased." Cut said.

"Well, I guess when you're involved in civil works it isn't a good idea to mes with the department of transportation." Lucky said, "But you're welcome to almost any spot here. As you can see, Cut's got the top bunk there. I've got the bottom on the next bed over so you can sort of find what works best for you... I mean, if you want to hang out with us anyway." Lucky said, suddenly sounding less sure. Thiago had taken a step forward to examine his options before he paused, giving the other a smile.

"Of course I want to hang out with you." Thiago said. Lucky seemed to relax at once, nodding eagerly as he moved over to tidy up a bit. Thiago resumed walking, ralizing that the wall that ran down the middle of the building stopped just shy of the last bunk, giving a view down the side of the building and to the only window he'd seen. The sun had sunk down further beyond the rim, the orange dading from the heavens and leaving a rich, dark purple in their wake.

"I'll take the top bunk here..." he whispered, realizing that he could fall asleep each night looking at the stars. It was going to be like going to a real camp. Lucky grinned happily.

"Bunk mates then!" Lucky said happily, running over to pounce and land on the lower mattress on the last bunk in the row. Thiago moved over and set his bag down ont he top of the cubbies before he looked down at it, suddenly feeling a bit underprepared. He had a toothbrush, travel shampoo, his wallet and a cellphone with a cracked screen.

"I don't have any bedding." he said in realization.

"Good thing the driver is also the quartermaster. I'm sure he's got some bedding in the warehouse. Just gotta check it out." Cut said.

"You'll be able to get better stuff on our next supply run into town." Lucky smiled. Thiago nodded at that, but he found himself drawn back to the window. Even without the sun having fully set, the stars had come out in such number that Thiago felt like he was looking into heaven itself. There was no light pollution, no city lights or smog, no airplanes or helicopters overhead... It was just the splendor of the milky way spread out all around them. Thiago wasn't sure what his life was going to look like, but it was certainly going to be an adventure.

****

The sound of crickets was a natural accompaniment to nightfall in many regions of the United States. Thiago would have given anything for crickets. The sound of wind passing over the rim had been tough enough, but when even the wind died down and Thiago was surrounded by the complete absence of sound, he'd been forced to realize that it was going to take him a while to get used to sleeping in a place like this. He'd tried looking at the stars, but the limited view of the window just wasn't enough.

With great care, Thiago climbed down from the bunk, landing on bare feet. He paused, looking at Lucky, hoping he hadn't woken his bunk mate. The blond was fast asleep, drooling into his pillow, somehow looking both concerned and relaxed in his unconscious state. No doubt he was dreaming about more conspiracies. Thiago turned, looking over at Cut's bed now that he was at eye level. The young man had swapped out his goggles for a sleep mask that covered his eyes. At least it made it less likely they'd see him.

Thiago moved silently, finding a strange comfort on letting his bare feet touch the floor of the bunk house. The wood was old, smoothed by the years to a point that it nearly felt polished. He moved past bunk after bunk. Most of them were empty, the camp running a bit short staffed, but eventually he saw the wedge of light slipping in from the artificial lights outside. Thiago turned, padding down the steps, freezing for a moment as the wood groaned a little. He tried the next step and then set foot on the dust.

A strange shiver slipped up Thiago's spine. The ground was soft and hard, slick and firm, an odd contrast that felt so... comfortable. It also wasn't that cold. Thiago moved, not sure at first where he was going. The mess was dark, the director and the driver were asleep. He supposed he could go to the gym, but then again he was going to get a work out in the morning - a time that was rapidly approaching. Thiago was about to give up when he heard something promising; the sound of running water. He had forgotten all about the showers.

Enthusiasm climbed as Thiago thought a refreshing shower, or even a brisk one, might be the answer to his needs. He came around the corner of the mess, heading toward the bath house. While most of the structure was covered, a portion at the far end was open air from the waist up. Presumably it was where particularly dirty workers could wash off without wrecking the showers used for day to day hygiene. Thiago had expected that at least one of the stalls would be occupied - he had heard the water after all - but he hadn't expected that one stall would be occupied by two individuals.

Rusty stood beneath the cold water, his eyes scrunched up, his face tight in expressions of pressure and release. Trip stood behind him, water beading on his dark hair. They were two of the biggest men at the camp and to see them in the same stall at the same time made them seem giant by comparison. Rusty writhed, rising taller as Trip thrust forward. They seemed to be in a tug of war, moving forward and back. Rusty looked clumsy, uneven, unsteady. Trip looked like an expert. In and out, forward and back, soft moans carrying across the still desert air.

It was hard to tell which reaction hit Thiago first; embarrassment, shock, arousal, envy, curiosity or shame. Thiago imagined himself in Rusty's place if he'd taken Trip up on his offer, although he wasn't sure how he felt about being on the receiving end. He'd always pictured it the other way around. Still, the man's power seemed intoxicating. As rough as Rusty had been on their first meeting, he had a feeling that the red head would have been merciless if he'd known someone had seen him in such a compromising position.

Deciding it was too much risk to ongoing cohesion, Thiago snuck one last look before he turned and moved away, sneaking behind the cover of the mess. Taking a shower was out of the question, but it had given Thiago the idea on how to get himself ready for bed. The young man skirted the mess before finding an out of the way corner of the camp, hidden behind the building. He hastily unbuttoned his jeans and drew out his manhood, giving it a firm but steady stroke. The cinnamon toned flesh slid forward and back, enveloping the mushroom shaped head of his cock before pulling back again. Thiago closed his eyes, surrendering to it.

How had he found this strange and wonderful place? How had he found a job where it was just okay to be a man that loved men? His family would have disowned him if they knew his secret, and yet here they were, hundreds of miles away from prying eyes. Lucky had seemed alright with it and apparently Rusty was too. Thiago imagined a few different scenarios, though he played things a bit different. He pictured himself behind Trip, sliding his manhood into that man's deep, broad, delicious ass. He imagined burying his face in the nape of his neck, kissing and nipping at it... But Trip wasn't enough. He imagined fucking Lucky and Cut and Rusty and Hank, he imagined filling each and every one of them with his seed.

The images came faster and faster in his mind until they culminated into a colorful aurora that jumped from synapse to synapse. Thiago threw his head back, his orange dyed hair falling back as his face contorted into an expression of ecstasy, his split mustache framing his mouth as he moaned. A few spurts of thick pearly cum launched out, splattering across the dusty ground. Thiago stood there for a moment, panting, reclaiming himself.

With one last breath, Thiago tucked away his semi-hard cock and brushed his shirt down. While it hadn't been the method he expected, it felt like it was going to be far more likely he could sleep now. Skipping the middle step, the young man moved back into the bunkhouse without making another sound. Silence and stillness slipped back across the camp, muting the fact that the ground where Thiago had shed his seed was starting to shimmer with a faint but distinct purple light.

****

Thiago felt the faintest breeze ruffle through his hair, his eyes aimed out at the horizon. He hadn't been up as early since high school and he certainly had never been somewhere with a panoramic view in every direction. There was something sort of magical about the sunrise. There had been so many colors and hues that came ahead of the light that he had never expected - browns and yellows and greens. It wasn't until the men had pulled out their shovels, canteens and other equipment from the truck that the first hints of blue and pink finally blossomed from the eastern edge of the rim.

Cut blinked from behind his goggles, reaching up to wipe some of the dust off of them before he turned, looking out in the same direction as the taller man. A smile crossed his diminutive face before he nodded.

"I see it too... We get paid in more ways than one out here." he said softly. Thiago gave a small smile back to him before nodding.

"You're right, but I bet we only get paid if we actually work, right?" Thiago replied. Cut grinned at that and nodded, picking up his shovel. Thiago turned, assessing the work site one more time. Everything had looked so impossibly flat on the ride in but the area was too vast to see every detail and nuance. The aqueduct project seemed like the most impressive, but it had truly moved at a snail's pace. While there was some equipment, the nature of the region meant that any initial attempts had to be done by hand and with great care. The result had been an arrowhead shape at the front making the initial dig before it was fanned out and widened to match the rest of the eventual channel.

The sound of a shovel piercing into the dust and dirt punctuated the air as Rusty sunk in, making the first impression. He struck deep and true before putting his shoulders into it, hefting the dust off to the side. For all of his social rough spots, it did seem like he'd make a lot of headway. Thiago slung his shovel over his shoulder and followed after Cut. Lucky was a few feet back, ensuring that whatever was dug up wasn't going to blow right back on top of them if the wind made it down the rim.

"So you said you found a sign?" Thiago asked after a few moments. Rusty glanced over his shoulder, looking at Thiago. Thiago didn't know Rusty that well yet but he knew well enough to interpret that expression. He sunk his shovel into the dirt and hefted a load off to the other side. Rusty gave a slight nod of acceptance. Apparently talking was fine as long as work was getting done.

"It was near the edge of the rim in the rockier terrain." Rusty explained as he kept digging, "There was an outpost there in the eighteen eighties. They thought it'd be a great waypoint for pioneers heading further west. They built a mill, a small mine and a few other buildings. Some of the wood from there was used in building camp Lonecross... but the mine dried up and no one came this way when there were greener paths to walk." Rusty explained.

"I think they might have assumed that the rim was a dry lakebed and that the water might return if the weather shifted." Cut added as he looked at some of the dislodged rocks he'd dug up, trying to see if any were important. Thiago made a point of digging in with his shovel a few more times.

"If there's that much history here, and geology, why are we doing the digging and not some more professional teams?" Thiago asked. Cut's brow furrowed a little at that. Rusty, too, seemed to think for a moment before he dug in deeper.

"Who cares as long as it's paying the bills, right?" Rusty asked, moving forward a bit and letting Cut come in behind to widen the furrow he'd started. Thiago lingered for a long moment, wondering just what sort of bills Rusty might have had. He lived at the camp where room and board were covered and he'd been there longer than anyone, but that didn't mean there wasn't some debt he was trying to work off, or something he was trying to save up for. Thiago decided to stow the rest of his questions and went to work on the other side, fanning out opposite of Cut as Rusty led the way.

****

True to the director's schedule, the crew had worked for several hours in the morning before cutting off at midday at the prescribed time. While it was required that they not work during the most brutal heat, there was no such requirement for them to head back to camp if they opted not to. The drive was fairly long and they would have had to drive right back out again for their afternoon work. The vote had been taken and the truck remained right where it had parked that morning, leaving the workers to find ways to pass the time.

A makeshift canopy had been stretched out over the back of the truck, offering shade to keep the water tank cool and to give Rusty shelter while he napped in the back. Cut sat in the cab of the truck with the windows rolled down, his notebook splayed on his lap as he fiddled with his notes. Lucky was propped up against one of the truck's large tires in the shadow cast by the vehicle. His eyes were closed, listening to his old battered MP3 player. That left Thiago standing by himself in the dust, peering out across the progress they'd made and the nearly endless terrain stretching out all around them - but it wasn't just enough to look.

Before Thiago had really thought about it, he'd already walked a few yards, then a few more. He wasn't even sure why he'd started walking in the first place. While he could certainly feel the heat of the sun and felt it encroaching at the edges of the sunglasses Cut had lent him, it wasn't too bad, certainly not bad enough to make him shy away from his curiosity. He'd been probing at the edge of an idea at the back of his mind. He felt as if something was out there, that something had been pulling at him and drawing him closer.

It had started in town with the career counselor. He'd been aimless, directionless and then a high paying, wonderfully strange job had landed right in his lap. As soon as he'd heard the name, he couldn't turn back. He had never expected that feeling to intensify as much as it had. It was as if he'd been here before, as if he knew something about it, but he didn't. He couldn't even recall studying the wild west in school, let alone enough to remember a spot that Lucky was convinced 'they' didn't want anyone to know about.

Minutes slipped by like sand through the hourglass. Thiago followed the path that the Lonecrossers had been carving away at for months, his pace aided by the flat, smooth terrain. While it felt like Ghost Lake went on forever, they were far closer to the rim on this dig than he'd been since driving in. His eyes studied the terrain, trying to picture where the pioneers might have tried to cut their way in, where they might have tried to make their paths. Understanding that would help him achieve his function and preserve whatever bits of history might have been left out here.

While it was difficult to picture where relics of the past might have been buried, the evidence of Camp Lonecreek's progress was impossible to ignore. The ditch that Thiago had been walking along was starting to widen even further. Glancing up ahead, Thiago decided to hop across the ditch while he could still make it to the other side. He landed with a bit of a skid, kicking up a plume of the white dust before he resumed following the trench along the other side. The more he pressed on, the closer he came to the one object that looked like it didn't belong. Something big was wedged into the trench, covered in a sun-bleached tarp that was strapped down with bungee hooks and weighted by rocks.

While the trench so far had seemed modest and carved by hand, the digger marked the start of a far more legitimate looking works project. The trench was flat and even, stretching out a good eight feet wide and five feet deep. It cut across the land like an artery, originating from the rim, beyond which the only naturally occurring water in the area waited. It was also likely where the ghost town had been perched with its mill and its mine. Thiago could almost see it, rising up in confident defiance, a stark contrast to the colorless basin... but the confidence hadn't been enough.

The ominous sound of the wind cutting across the top of the rim was loud and steady. It was an uneasy tone. Thiago tried to remind himself it was like when someone blew across the rim of a glass bottle to make noise, but the science behind it didn't do much to ease his anxiety. It felt like some sort of warning, and yet Thiago could still feel something drawing him forward, almost like something was calling out to him despite the howl of the wind... Thiago lingered only a moment before he started walking again.

Every step brought him closer to the rim. It had seemed like such a miniscule incline from Camp Lonecross, barely rising up above the horizon. Apparently the bus had come in through some sort of divot or gap that had made access easier. From where Thiago stood now, the soft and smooth terrain had finally broken up, making the path before him far more uneven. As he looked around, Thiago wondered how many of the rocks had crumbled and fallen from the rum and how many had been blown across the flat ground and collected at the edges. Thiago's black and orange hair whipped around in what currents made their way down the inner edge of the rim.

Careful, shrewd eyes scanned the edge appraisingly. The Lonecrossers had found a sign for the lake, not to mention whatever other relics the director had stashed in his office. Had they blown down over the edge too, or was there some path he wasn't seeing? Then again, any path would be easier to spot from above rather than below. What he needed was a better advantage point. Thiago looked around before spotting one route up the edge of the rim that seemed slightly less treacherous.

Somewhere in the back of his mind, Thiago realized that the others would be worried that he was gone, not to mention the fact that at least a third of the safety videos had clearly gone over the fact that wandering away from your work detail was not only a bad idea, it was seriously frowned upon. Thiago hoped that he wouldn't be sent back on his first offense, but the call had been impossible to ignore. He could feel it in his bones like some invisible string pulling him. He had to know what was on the other side.

Thiago reached out to put a hand on one of the larger boulders, wincing a bit at the heat the stone was radiating. Still, he used it as a brace to push himself up over some of the cobble. He calculated how far it was to the nearest flat spot, testing his muscles a little before he sprung from his position, arching over some jagged stones before landing perfectly on the flat spot he had been aiming for. The sense of triumph lasted only a split second before the flat spot splintered beneath Thiago's weight and he fell through.

The young man dropped like a stone tossed into a well, the bright light of the sun suddenly absent. While it wasn't exactly a free fall, Thiago wasn't sure how much a hundred and fifty years worth of spider webs would slow him down. His hand slapped against something hard and metal on the way down, deflecting him into the other side of the shaft before he started to ricochet. The narrow confines of the shaft Thiago fell through suddenly disappeared a split second before he hit a mound of dust that had collected at the base of the shaft, sending him rolling down its soft slope before awkwardly skidding to a stop on smooth, hard rock below.

This time Thiago was clear in exactly which order his emotions came; pain, irritation, embarrassment, weariness, and then curiosity. His body ached and stung, buzzing with the shock and adrenaline of his sudden fall. He blinked a bit, his eyes clearing as he looked down at the oddly dark, almost translucent glassy obsidian-like rock he'd landed on. While he was fascinated by what had broken his fall, his eyes darted over to his hands, seeing a dozen or so abrasions and a spot that was already darkening into a bruise. Still, it could have been much, much worse.

Thiago slowly lifted himself up with his injured hands, his his honey brown eyes widening in more than just surprise as he looked out before him. He hadn't just fallen down some ventilation shaft into a mine... he'd fallen into the belly of an enormous cave. It was only when looking up that he realized the cave should have been pitch black - and yet faint columns of light seeped down from hazy, milky spots in the ceiling. His eyes narrowed as he thought for a long moment, looking down at the dark stone beneath him and then back to the ceiling of the cave.

"Quartz? Glass?" he whispered to himself, his voice carrying. If the area was made of polished crystal or glass or agate, the sun might have made it through anywhere that the dust was blown back to reveal the rock beneath. Whatever caused the phenomenon, it was beautiful. With slow, deliberate care, Thiago pushed himself up to his feet, standing amid the splendor.

It felt like something out of a fairytale. He stood on black glassy rock like some sort of frozen lake in the underworld. The ground beneath him and the ceiling above him were both flat and placid, equal and parallel, like two different worlds stacked one atop the other. Thiago froze at that thought. Camp Lonecross was right up above digging. More than that, they were digging an aqueduct. Any fissure, any imperfection, any flaw could drain whatever water they brought in down into this place - or worse, if the machinery cut too deep, one of the dig teams could fall through in an industrial accident they might never recover from. The director had tasked him with keeping an eye peeled for anything that they had to protect. He'd found something so big they'd probably shut the entire camp down, but how could he put a natural wonder like this at risk?

Thiago turned, using the dim columns of light to try and get his bearings back. Much like Ghost Lake, it was hard to make out anything other than the farthest perimeter. As he looked around, Thiago's head started to throb. He winced, closing his eyes, feeling his heartbeat pounding in his skull. Maybe he'd been more hurt on the way down than he'd first thought. There was a chance he'd even gotten a concussion. Then again, maybe he'd been knocked unconscious and this was all a dream - but his body hurt too much for it to be a dream.

After a few moments to steady himself, Thiago finally opened his eyes again. He breathed slowly. The air didn't smell stale, it just smelled like rock and earth. His gaze slipped down to the glassy rock beneath him, seeing his fuzzy, blurry reflection staring back up. It was like he was gazing into infinity. He saw his smudged face and his split mustache, his unique hair and his dirty work shirt... but the rock around the reflection was changing, or rather, brightening. It had been subtle at first, but the longer he stared down into it, the more the light grew. The black was giving way to a purple light - and it was spreading outward. The entire base of the cave was starting to glow, the light creeping outward from where Thiago was standing, reaching toward the edges of the caves.

Thiago's mind raced. Rock like that was caused by heat and pressure, but he hadn't fallen very far in a geological sense. More than that, the ceiling was at least translucent crystal as well where the dust didn't cover it. The rim was nearly flawless, though it was thicker on the side that they were working on. Heat, pressure, uneven perimeter. It wasn't volcanic, it had to be something else like a meteorite. Ghost Lake was the impact crater for something. Maybe there had actually been a lake at some point that smoothed out the edges before the water receded and carved out the caverns, but now...

Even Thiago's racing thoughts weren't fast enough to bring him to the answer before the purple light reached its zenith. A flash erupted from beneath him, energy jolting through his body. He gasped suddenly as his muscles contracted, falling hard onto his knees and his hands. He panted hard as another flash crackled across his body. Thiago looked down at his reflection again, not understanding. Meteorites didn't release energy like that, did they? Another jolt came, then another. There was pain and panic, of course, but another strange sensation... The jolts had tightened his muscles. Thiago could see the masses pushing out from beneath his skin in an oddly pleasing way. Even his pectorals felt fuller and heavier and -

"Oh my god..." he groaned, inhaling sharply as he looked down, seeing that his chest was in fact growing larger. So too were his arms. He groaned, fingers splaying on the rock, eyes clenching in pain and pleasure. His shirt stretched loosely at first, then tighter, hugging his chest. His nipples hardened as they rubbed back and forth across the material. His sleeves started to feel uncomfortable where they were digging into his bulging biceps. Thiago groaned, forcing his eyes open, crying out in sudden shock.

The sensations were myriad and conflicting as they arced through his body. Sweat began to bead out across his back, soaking the shirt from the nape of his neck down the crack of his ass. His fingertips felt as if he'd dipped them in ice water, feeling frozen and hot at the same time. His breathing became faster and more urgent as he saw his fingernails darkening. The translucent ivory became brown. What little light filtered into the cave was oddly glossy on his nails, almost as if they were... softening? To Thiago's shock, that was just what was happening. They began to ooze and stretch, growing out into claws. The skin on his arms seemed to be going the other direction, drying out and growing tougher.

What had started as sweat along his back was starting to feel more slimy. The shirt tightening across him began to tug and lag as he moved. Thiago suddenly threw his head back, howling as his sense of hearing suddenly fell away. He heard his heartbeat and that was it, though something was dragging through his black and orange hair. The answer came in his reflection as he looked down, seeing that his ears were no longer where they had once been. They were climbing up his head to a higher position, stretching out and contouring as they moved. The round lobes became teardrop shaped, flicking out from his wild mane of hair.

The bittersweet symphony of changes continued to ripple through his body, blending contradictory feelings together. His fingers splayed out farther, his fingers elongating to grow into and match his new claws. His jaw popped, then crinkled and crackled. His handsome face began to swell and stretch. His teeth felt numb and his nose twitched as his mouth started to push forward. His t-shirt itched and felt strange as wheat colored hair began to sprout from between his two impressive, succulent pectorals. The purple light filtered up from beneath him, shining on his skin as it took on a tougher, more leathery texture. His cinnamon toned skin started to mottle and take on faint spots, spreading out from his elbows and hands.

While there was too much to keep track of, somewhere in the back of his mind Thiago started to realize it wasn't sweat running down his spine. It was too thick, too slimy, too clingy. Despite his shirt getting caught in the substance, it had started to slip across his back, fanning out wider and wider. It clung to his shoulders and waist, even slipping down across his swollen ass cheeks. It felt oddly soothing, contrasted by the dull painful ache coming from his tailbone. It felt as if he'd fallen on his coccyx and broken it. The pain grew larger and larger just as his muscles had until, at last, it felt like he'd reached the breaking point. The bone suddenly pulled away from his pelvis, whipping out independently. New muscles that had barely started to form worked quickly to wrap the boney extrusion before new segments formed, pushing the existing ones out apart from one another. It stretched behind Thiago, bloating and widening, firming and hardening - just as his manhood was doing beneath him.

Despite the pain, by instinct alone, Thiago's clawed, calloused hand drifted to his groin. He fumbled a bit but his claws cut through the button and dragged the zipper down, letting out a bloated, full, well tanned cock. He coiled his hand around it, shivering at how animal and strange it felt. He gave himself a squeeze, a tug, and then a stroke. He moaned, starting to jerk off harder and faster. His hand slipped up and down relentlessly as he feverishly worked his rod. The pleasure poured into the soup of conflicting sensations. There was still discomfort, even a tinge of pain, but there was no way this experience was anything other than amazing.

Thiago's teardrop shaped ears twitched out from his unruly hair, his face continuing to extend forward. His teeth still felt numb, but as his tongue ran across them it seemed for the best. They were changing shape and orientation, the front of his mouth becoming narrower and narrower. His nose was being stretched out as well, taken along for the right. The skin seemed to tighten and harden at different rates, tugging his nostrils up a bit to face front rather than down as his muzzle filled out. His spots spread, as did the hardening skin, but his split mustache stayed on either side of his hybridized mouth.

The shirt that had gotten soaked by the strange substance coming out of the pores on Thiago's back suddenly broke free from the goo with a crispy snap, the surface beneath starting to firm up. It was only as Thiago thrust into his eager hand that he realized just how much extra weight he was carrying. His new muscles had undoubtedly added dozens of pounds but there was more than that... his back was MUCH heavier. Thiago tried to flex his shoulders. He felt the muscles move, but they were moving beneath a firm, hard, heavy layer that felt almost like some kind of football equipment or armor or... a shell...

With an arch of his back, Thiago felt it all click into place. The slime had hardened into segmented boney plates, covering from the nape of his neck to his ass. As he moved, they overlapped, fitting into place perfectly. Even his new tail seemed connected, the top section dimpled and covered with an extension of the plates even as it spilled out of his hind quarters, widening and rounding at the base.

A strange grin crossed Thiago's muzzled face, his eyes entranced. He felt powerful and protected. He'd loved the Ninja Turtles as a kid, and he'd been fond of the armored ankylosaurus as well. The invisible string that had been pulling him to Ghost Lake had revealed itself and given him a gift. Thiago redoubled his efforts, his clawed, rough hand working his swollen cock. He arched his back again and heard the popping of stitches and the tearing of fabric. He flexed again and heard another tear. With one last push, his armored back and muscled, fur lined chest burst through the shirt, glistening in the faint columns of light that sank down from the surface.

The white fur had spread from nipple to nipple, from collarbone to navel before blossoming out again to frame his ample balls and shaft. As Thiago writhed and twisted, he heard the scraping of claws on stone and realized his toes had gained his new adaptations as well. Thiago shuddered in pleasure, flexing and bending his feet as they stretched out wider and longer, bigger and thicker. They were glorious and powerful, just like he was. His jeans barely hung on around his thickening legs, already tugged down beneath his powerful trunk-like tail.

Between the physical exertion and the actual transformation itself, Thiago felt hot. His body was all over the place as his tissue changed and shifted, his organs and bones adjusting. He felt his forehead hot and wet, but it wasn't sweat. The same soft slime had eked out of his pores before hardening, creating a triangular crest of the same boney material that covered his back. It came down in a solid plate from his hairline down to the taper of his nose, highlighting his honey brown eyes as they looked out drunkenly into the dim air.

A breath filled Thiago's lungs, but his body grew larger. Another breath built it up again. Muscle, leathery flesh, soft fur and thick shell. He was still humanoid, he was still partly a man, but he was so much more. His tan skin had given way to countless shades of orange, brown, beige and tan. Thiago felt better than he had in his entire life. He was huge and manly, animalistic and horny. He knew that if he wanted he'd be able to fuck Trip or Rusty, maybe both of them, maybe the whole camp.

Once more, Thiago's eyes squeezed shut. The last trailing edges of his transformation disappeared beneath the sudden shining glow of his orgasm. It erupted in his brain and loins at the same time. His huge cock let out a hesitant spurt of pearly cum across the glassy stone before the proverbial cork was loosed and a fountain geysered out. Thiago came and came, grinning from teardrop shaped ear to teardrop shaped ear. He rode out the pleasure, feeling dizzy and sleepy and powerful and strong all at the same time. The sensations spun together into a cyclone of bliss until Thiago knew nothing but a well satisfied sleep.

****

Wet... Why was he wet? The temperature of the water also felt like a shock to Thiago's system as it poured across his face and chest. His eyes snapped open and he sat up suddenly, coughing and sputtering. He looked around in confusion, seeing Lucky and Cut and Rusty around him. Lucky had crouched down to pour the water on him. Thiago blinked wearily, still feeling sleepy. He looked around in confusion, realizing he was back on the surface next to the digger. A scough cut the air as Rusty crossed his arms.

"I've seen people get heat stroke out here before but none of them went looking for it. Hell of a time to get yourself killed." Rusty glowered. Thiago didn't respond, merely blinking, trying to figure out what had happened. Had it been heatstroke? Had it all just been a dream? What kind of sun induced delusion would have made him dream he was becoming some sort of armadillo man? Lucky, however, offered him the water bottle he'd been pouring some out of.

"How are you feeling?" he asked. Thiago hesitated.

"A bit disoriented but alright." he replied. It was true, technically. He didn't feel bad at all physically, just drowsy. Emotionally, however...

"What time is it?" Thiago asked.

"Six." Cut replied, sparing Thiago the fact that it was the time they were supposed to start back in on their work.

"Do you need to go back to camp? It's your first day, most people take a while to get used to it." Lucky said softly. Again, Rusty let out a snort.

"If they ever do." he replied. Thiago turned his head, looking up at Rusty dead in the eyes, a strange smile crossing his lips.

"I'll be fine. It's nothing a late night shower wouldn't fix." he replied. Rusty didn't move a muscle, though his eyes widened in surprise. For a few more moments he stood there before he wordlessly turned and moved back to get his shovel.

"You're sure?" Lucky asked. Thiago nodded.

"I might not be at full speed, but I'll do my best." Thiago said. Lucky nodded at that and took Thiago's hand, pulling him up to his feet. His eyes widened a bit in surprise, "Dude, I didn't know you were that ripped..." he murmured. Lucky looked down, his own eyes widening as well. Lucky hadn't seen him without a shirt. If he had, he would have known Thiago hadn't EVER looked that good, at least on the surface. His pectorals were full and rounded, his nipples swollen and plump. Soft, thick black hair hugged the valley between them, creating a hazy line down his firm stomach to the triangle crest sticking up from the waistband of his jeans.

"Did you take off your clothes to cool down?" Cut asked, "We couldn't find them."

"That must have been it..." Thiago whispered, realizing that his dream wasn't a dream after all. "I'll be fine like this, plus it'll make an interesting story to tell around dinner, right?" he asked. Cut smiled at that and moved back toward the truck, leaving Thiago by himself. The young man slowly turned, honey brown eyes looking back toward the edge of the rim. He saw it for what it was now, a crater. Sometime far in the past, a meteorite had crashed here and changed the terrain forever. The pioneers had dug down and found the cavern just like he had... and yet no one had told the story. The secret had remained even after the town disappeared. It was a secret worth protecting, surely, but it was also a secret worth sharing.

Thiago turned, looking back towards the others as they started to dig in the dust, working on the aqueduct channel they'd been chipping away at for months. He wasn't sure if they'd all become armadillos like he had or if the cavern held different fates for them, but he was sure whatever they became would be amazing. He just had to find a way to help them realize their full potential. Thiago started to walk towards the truck barefoot, his skin glistening in the evening sun. He'd only been out in it a day, but already his skin seemed tougher and thicker, almost as if it was some kind of armor.