Dillon Hunt And The Desert Oasis Resort, Chad Stewart [hot novels to read .TXT] 📗

the photographs that were in the book of John, his colleagues, and some of the surrounding territory, he held them up every which way to see if he could see some sign of the symbol. Nothing. He must have looked for about an hour through that book but couldn’t find even a trace. He then resorted to his other pieces of literature and then finally the internet. Nothing. It was incredibly frustrating!

After taking a bit of a break to stretch his legs and grab another cookie Dillon decided to go back to reading the book on John Taylor Sebastian. He flipped through it slowly this time, reading more of the text in detail. It was actually kind of interesting. John apparently was a celebrated archeologist before he ever tried to discover the source of the Oasis. He had numerous findings to his name, including some long lost south American tribes that were, up to the time he investigated, considered myths. The introduction to the book described him as a strong, polite, quiet man who spent countless hours pouring over books in search of some missing detail that he believed would unlock the whole mystery of what he was researching. There was, however, another side to him that described him as adventurous and an avid outdoorsman. Apparently he never married as his work kept him away from home far too much.

As Dillon read about this man he began to feel as though he knew him somehow; like they had a connection that was seen in common interests. Of course John had years of study and field experience to his name while Dillon had imaginary adventures and a weird gift for finding stuff. This, Dillon figured, drew a line of difference between the two—a big line.

As he read on, he found that John was skeptical about the length of time the Oasis was active. From what Dillon had researched on the net earlier it said that the Oasis was formed in the 1800’s, but John had compelling evidence that it actually wasn’t that long ago. He figured it was only about five to ten years old—around 2008 to 2013! Dillon sat back pondering the thought.

How could this have been kept such a secret for so long? Was it because it was on private property? Dillon thought to himself. And how come there is very little contradictory evidence to these facts in any other research that was around? Unless someone was trying to cover it up.

John, according to the book, figured just that: that someone, for whatever reason, was trying to keep the recent origin of the Oasis a secret. Dillon had heard Mom and Dad discuss the modern phenomenon of misinformation that happens in today’s world while they watched the news at home. They always marvelled at the amount of contrary “facts” that people put out there, but Dillon never really understood that idea. To him, it was just the world he was growing up in, and he figured that it was just life. Now, however, he was put in a position where he had to sort out what was true and what was false. This now gave him a better idea of what Mom and Dad were talking about, and he felt a little frustrated at having to find out what was true and what was false.

Further pondering this Dillon turned the page as he was reading and saw the first picture that was in the book. It was a photo taken of John and a few others when they arrived at the Oasis in 2016 to begin their research. There were four men and a woman in the photograph. The woman and three of the men were apparently John’s field workers that were supporting him on this investigation, but the fourth man was a native man. Everything in the picture was crisp and clear except for this man’s face. It seemed that the resolution was off on him, as if the camera or the lighting was somehow off, or someone was trying to deliberately mask who it was. The bottom of the photo indicated that his name was Tokala Tenderfoot.

He went to the computer and typed in all of the names on the picture into the search engine. All of them came up as being field archeologists that went missing the same time John did, except Tokala Tenderfoot. His name had no reference to the man Dillon was seeing in the picture. He was about to open another search window when the lights in the business center flickered then went out; his computer screen went black. He looked around wondering what had happened.

An older man noticed the confused look on Dillon’s face and said, “Don’t worry son, it’s just a temporary blackout. The power will be back on any moment.”

Sure enough, right after he spoke the light came to life again.

“See?” the man commented.

Dillon nodded. “Thanks,” he replied, then he went back to the book and tried to get a better look. He figured the computer would be useless so he just left it off. Then he had an idea! He pulled out his phone and took a picture of the picture with the camera app. He then used his fingers to zoom in and turn the photo in different ways, trying to see it in different angles. He squinted his eyes as he looked harder at the picture. Even though it pixelated when he zoomed in he was able to make out more detail. “That looks like—” His mouth dropped open as he suddenly recognized the man. It was Tom Tom!

The revelation knocked him back. Tom Tom must have been John’s guide while he was here. If anyone knew what had happened to John he would! Dillon sat back for a moment trying to digest the information. “There’s something going on here,” he said to himself.

“Eh!” came a call from the older man at one of the computer terminals beside him. “Did you say something boy?”

Dillon blushed a little. “Ah … No. Just talking to myself,” he admitted.

It was Tom Tom who led me to this book, he thought to himself. I wonder if that wasn’t an accident?

Dillon quickly packed up his stuff and headed for the bell desk. He knew now what he had to do.

There, at the desk, was the tall gangly Australian who helped the Hunts with their luggage when they first arrived. He looked as though he was trying to appear busy, but Dillon could totally see through him. He was bored out of his mind!

“Hey … um … ” Dillon started to say, trying to remember if he ever did get the guy’s name when they checked in.

The Australian looked at him then smiled. “My name’s Keith mate,” he said in his thick Australian accent. “But everyone just calls me Aussie.”

“Oh … okay Aussie. I was wondering if you guys rented Bikes around here?”

“Sure thing … ” he paused, looking inquisitive. “What was your name again?”

“Oh … Dillon. Dillon Hunt.”

“Right! The Hunt family. Now I remember! If you head about half way down the resort, through those doors and to the right you run right into the rental shops.”

“Thanks man!” Dillon replied as he started off, hoisting his backpack higher onto his shoulder. “I mean, mate,” he corrected.

Aussie smiled and waved goodbye as Dillon exited the main lobby.