“What’s this place then?” Millie glanced back at George, her hiking companion who, although younger always was slower.
George slipped off his backpack and pulled out the map.
“Don’t bother,” Millie said, impatient. “I remember now. It’s that prison I saw marked on the map. Open Prison, I guess that means no high walls.”
“That prison is five miles east of here. This is a water treatment plant.”
“No,” Millie said incredulous, “A water treatment plant does not require this much security. If it’s a water plant then it’s a cover for something.”
“Maybe there’s gold in them there hills,” George mocked.
She shot him a withering look. Then, “Watch out!”
George clambered onto the verge to allow the vehicle to pass. It pulled into the gateway. The gate slowly slid open. High Security Transport, the signage said.
“It’s a prison,” Millie said.
“Or there really is gold in those hills.”
I can’t say for certain that it’s a water treatment plant, but the installation does belong to a water treatment company.
crispina kemp 