Impact | Book 6 | Dig

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Impact | Book 6 | Dig Page 8

by Isherwood, E. E.


  The men and women in the formation glanced nervously at each other. A young man in front of him turned around toward Butch. “Can you believe this lady? We’re not fighters.”

  “Amen, brother,” Butch replied.

  The woman went on. “But don’t worry. Our mission is not to get into a fight. It’s to present a unified front for those who would steal this rock from TKM. As long as they know we’re here and ready to defend corporate property, the terrorist scavengers will stay back. So, don’t look at yourselves as soldiers. Consider yourselves deterrents.”

  Ezra strained his neck to get a better view of the woman at the front. She was dressed in tight-fitting black leather pants and a similarly fitted black long-sleeved top. Her long red hair was down below her shoulders, instead of pinned up off her neck. He figured she must be dying in the midday sunshine.

  Getting back in his spot, he leaned toward Butch and Haley. “There is no freaking way we’re getting anywhere close to this nutjob. Be ready to split as soon as I give the signal.”

  He refocused on the woman. As soon as she finished her speech, it would be his cue to move.

  “In addition to being a force designed to ward off anyone who’s prone to making bad decisions, you all have access to the finest weapons and technology. TKM has generously provided this so you can protect our mutual investment.”

  Her words seemed to calm those present.

  “Remember, each of you will be a millionaire when this is over. All for the lowly task of standing in front of some company equipment to ensure no one damages it.”

  Many of the men in the lines started to fist-bump each other.

  Haley leaned in. “Hey, do you think they’d give us a million bucks for being here?”

  He chuckled. “I could rebuild my house, and then some.”

  Butch joined in. “I’ll buy you a new boat, E-Z.”

  He noticed the woman was now inside the formation. “To give you a sense of the scum we’re dealing with: my husband and I were attacked by them. Savagely. Viciously. Without mercy. I managed to kill one of their men, a Russian infiltrator, but I lost my dear husband in the melee.”

  A few heartfelt apologies came from the gathered people.

  She lapped it up, walking deeper into the line. Closer to Ezra. In fact, he locked eyes with her as she strolled right to him.

  “My husband was tall, dark, and handsome, like the saying, uh, says.” She fumbled her words a little, but never stopped peering at Ezra. “And you could be his brother.”

  “Me?” Ezra blurted.

  She smiled, further making him uncomfortable, before gesturing toward Butch. “Yes, you, though this one is much taller, a little darker, and almost as handsome, though he’s obviously smitten with his girlfriend.”

  Butch seemed as unsettled as he was. He shifted his weight from leg to leg.

  “In case you didn’t hear, my name is Nerio Torres. Nice to meet you…”

  “Ezra,” he revealed, wishing again he’d started this adventure with a fake name.

  “Ezra,” she echoed. “Well, Ezra, I noticed you because you aren’t hard to look at, but I couldn’t help but notice you seem to have trouble listening to me. You and your friends back here aren’t going to be the troublemakers of the class, are you?”

  “No, ma’am,” he said sheepishly. The last thing he wanted to do was mouth off to her. After listening to her speech about being her foot soldiers, and after getting an up-close look at her disturbingly attractive outfit, he was certain her goal was to lure men into doing what she wanted with or without the million bucks. For her to single him out was dangerous.

  “Good. I want you three to ride with Christian. He’ll make sure you get set up properly.” She smiled at Ezra. “And he’ll take extra special care of you.”

  For about ten seconds he appreciated the irony about how she’d lost her husband, while he’d lost his wife. In almost any other situation on earth, those two things would give them a common point of discussion. Maybe it would even help with the healing.

  Damn, I’m commiserating with Mrs. Hitler.

  “We really don’t need—” he tried to say.

  “Nonsense,” she barked, stepping behind them. “We leave in five minutes. The trucks are loaded. All you have to do is stow your fancy guns and climb aboard. When we get to our new position, I’ll check on how well Christian was able to set you up.”

  When she finished, she kept walking until she was gone. Christian broke the formation from his spot at the front, which set the three of them in motion.

  “Nice one, ladies’ man,” Butch snorted.

  Haley broke into sing-song. “Someone’s got a new girlfriend.”

  Ezra shook his head in despair. “This would all be hilarious if we weren’t being marched off to war. Don’t you kids see that?”

  Butch didn’t miss a beat. “Yeah, that’s why we want to get in our last few jokes.”

  Chapter 10

  Hoback Junction, WY

  Grace wasn’t able to warn anyone before the man behind the blockade fired his rifle. “Get down!” she yelled, the instant after the booming echo.

  The gathered rangers dove behind their trucks, as did she and Asher. A second bullet cracked against her front bumper. The next skipped off the concrete below the license plate. She slid back toward the greater safety of the steel wheel, but also watched the man she’d been speaking with. Unlike everyone else, he seemed unsure which way to go.

  “Over here!” she shouted to him.

  Another round blasted out from the roadblock, making her wonder if the shooter was trying to hit the exposed man standing in the roundabout.

  “Hurry!” she yelled with encouragement.

  As he scurried toward her, another shot exploded. The bullet impacted her truck, causing it to rattle, though she had no idea where it had struck. The greeter hurried by, head low, breathing like a locomotive from his short sprint.

  “Was this roadblock a setup?” she asked him.

  “No! I swear! It’s real. A guy came along and said we have to keep everyone and their mothers from going up that road because it was dangerous as hell. We saw the smoke up yonder, so it made sense. No one gave us any grief the past few days. Not until you all showed up.”

  “The guy wasn’t with TKM by chance, was he?”

  The nervous man nodded. “He did mention that name.”

  She faced Asher. “So, we’re already running into their security teams.”

  “Why doesn’t he have a blue shirt?” Asher asked.

  It was a good question, so she turned back. “If you’re with TKM, why aren’t you dressed like them? They usually throw money at guys like you to get them to join their little army. Uniforms seem to be part of the deal.” Seeing the blue shirts would probably have been enough for her to keep driving, rather than engage the men at the roadblock.

  “Money? Ha! None of us got paid to be here. We’re doing our civic duty to help warn people. Brock was the only guy who said he was with TKM, but he didn’t have money. He’s more of a guy who just hangs out with us…and buys the beer,” he added with a bit of sheepishness.

  She went for the obvious question. “Well, is he the one shooting at us?”

  “I don’t know. My brother and a couple of other guys I know are up there. I doubt they would shoot me. I mean I owe them a few bucks, but—”

  She held up a hand. “I’m sure that’s not it.”

  “TKM knows we’re here?” Asher said under his breath.

  “I’d bet anything they have flyers of us with Wanted Dead or Alive written on the front. Or maybe they’ve got orders to shoot any park rangers they see.”

  Asher looked concerned. “Then we have to warn these people.”

  “I know.”

  The shooter let loose several shots in a row, plinking rounds off different trucks. Each hit was a reminder how much Randy was going to fire her, but she had to shake off the worries of her personal problems and concentrate on getting the
other rangers out of there.

  “We have to organize,” she said. “Fight back. At least distract the guy so we can drive away.”

  Asher seemed ready. “Just tell me what to do.”

  She scooted to the rear of the truck, which allowed her to see other rangers hunkered down behind their vehicles. It was dismaying to see few of them carried their weapons. She and Asher each had fancy-looking AR-15s given to them by members of the Crow Nation. They also carried service pistols in their law enforcement belts. Like the others, she’d failed to bring out her rifle when she got out. It was in the cargo bed with the other guns.

  Grace imagined herself in a movie. She took off her hat, lifted it to the edge of the blown-out rear window, sure the films had it wrong. Before she had it all the way up, a jolt yanked the straw hat from her hand, sending it sailing to the ground. “Shit!” she blurted, recoiling in shock at the same time. Her head had been closer than she’d planned to the path of the bullet.

  Asher laughed nervously. “Grace! Why?”

  Her heartbeat felt as if tiny nukes were blowing up in her chest twice a second. To cover her embarrassment, she grinned and tried to convince him she knew that would happen. “I wanted…to see…if he was looking.” She caught her breath before continuing. “If not, I was going to reach into the back and grab a rifle.”

  “That was pretty dumb. Why don’t you climb in through the front seat, then slide into the back?”

  Grace wasn’t thinking clearly, but she cut herself some slack due to the bullets. However, she also came to the sensible conclusion mimicking the movies could get you killed. “Yeah, I guess your way would be safer.”

  She was determined to get a rifle and fire back. If she could make the shooter put his head down for even a few seconds, it would give people a chance to retreat from the conflict. What she wanted most was to get her ranger allies out of there. It would be much harder to convince them to follow her if someone got shot at the first sign of the enemy. Belatedly, she admitted it would be equally hard to get them to tag along if she was holding up hats and having them shot out of her hand.

  Grace couldn’t help herself from checking around to see if anyone besides Asher knew of her mistake. As best she could tell, the answer was no.

  “Let me move by the door,” she said, strategizing a more sensible maneuver.

  After switching places with Asher, she prepared to go inside the truck. However, more guns fired from the roadblock. It was as if they knew her plan and were trying to stop her from acquiring any weapons. “I’m going,” she exhaled.

  “Wait!” Asher pleaded.

  They listened as the cacophony of sound hit a high point, then started to fizzle out. In seconds, there was no shooting at all. They crouched next to the truck, frozen in the act of listening. The quiet stretched into half a minute.

  Grace still hadn’t moved. She was either wasting precious time while the bad guys reloaded…or they had something more sinister than gunfire in the works for her.

  TKM was capable of anything.

  Anticline Natural Gas Field, WY

  “Well, we’re moving up in the world. We’re now inside the truck.” Ezra spoke to Haley, sitting next to him in the crew cab, and Butch, who sat in the passenger seat, since he was too tall to sit comfortably in the rear row.

  Christian was behind the wheel. “Yeah, sorry about that ride in, guys. Pretty brutal out there with how dry it’s been.”

  Ezra checked out the dust plumes billowing from the trucks behind them. They wafted eastward over the flat, featureless terrain.

  “We’ll get out up ahead. There’s a small checkpoint on the bridge over a creek.”

  “There’s water out here?” Butch remarked.

  “A little. Once we get south of the creek, there isn’t water, or any bushes, trees, or shrubs, until we get to the soda ash plant.”

  “Soda ash?” Haley asked.

  “It’s some kind of chemical they dig out of the ground in these parts. I’m not real familiar with it, other than they mine that and natural gas in this flat valley.”

  “Don’t forget they also take out valuable ore from the rock,” Ezra added helpfully. He’d already seen the rock being picked apart, but he found it interesting Christian didn’t consider the asteroid a valuable local resource.

  “Oh, right. They’ll mine it until we can get it all out of here.”

  “Out of here?” Ezra repeated.

  Christian turned halfway around. “Weren’t you listening at all back at camp? Nerio is traveling with us to shore up the southern defenses. We’ll be guarding the rail head so the rock can be shipped out. They’re taking it all to get it away from the civilian terrorists trying to steal it.”

  The dusty gravel road revealed a slight depression in the landscape up ahead. A small stream flowed underneath a fifty-foot span of bridge. However, once Christian took in the scene, he picked up his CB radio mic. “Look alive. The roadblock crew isn’t there.” He slowed the truck as he rolled to the edge of the span. If there were guys guarding the place, they weren’t visible.

  Butch pointed out his window. “There’s a wrecked truck down in the creek.”

  “Come on, let’s check it out.” Without waiting, the driver shoved his door open so he could hop out.

  It gave them a minute of privacy. “What should we do?” he asked.

  Haley sat back in her seat. “I say we stay here. Pretend like we didn’t hear him.”

  “All of us?” Ezra joked. “You think he’d buy that?”

  Butch opened his door. “I wish we could stay, Haley, but he knows we heard him. We have to get out. Have your weapon ready. If we see an opportunity to ditch these fellas, we should take it.”

  “I’ll be watching,” Haley said with determination.

  Ezra got out, too, trusting his military man’s instincts.

  The three of them followed Christian until they stood at the downstream side of the bridge. The wide, slow-moving creek was about ten feet below the road surface. A late-model pickup truck had been pushed over the steep bank and was submerged up to the tops of its tires. No other evidence of people could be seen.

  “Who do you think did this?” Ezra asked, wondering if this was the scene of a legitimate accident, or, more likely, someone who was against TKM had come along and taken them out. He feverishly searched the horizon for any hint of friendlies. Their lives would depend on making contact with them, so they didn’t become targets along with the rest of the TKM convoy.

  Other men had come out of their trucks. Some spread out along the bank of the stream, perhaps searching for any survivors or looking for possible threats. They’d gotten about fifty yards on both the up and downstream sides of the bridge when a distant thump came in on the wind.

  A man on the stream bank fell over the side.

  “It’s an attack!” Christian screamed. He looked at the fallen man for a second, then pointed downriver. “It came from that way!”

  Men fell to the rocks or went prone on the roadway and bridge. He ducked behind the metal guard rail. Every gun quickly turned to a point downriver, though Ezra wasn’t able to see anyone there. The stream had very little cover and was uniformly straight for a few hundred yards. The only possible place a shooter could be was…

  “The rise down there. He’s on the reverse slope of the rise down the river!” Christian aimed his rifle and fired across the water. After a few seconds, he looked over to Ezra. “Why the hell aren’t you firing?”

  Some of the men on the bank began shooting, almost as if they knew Christian was about to chew them out. However, Ezra didn’t feel like shooting at his friends out there.

  “We will,” he lied.

  For a few seconds, he, Butch, and Haley fumbled with their guns behind the guard rail, desperately trying to seem intent on preparing their weapons, but equally adamant they not bring them to bear. Christian went through his whole magazine and they still hadn’t gotten in the game.

  The leader spoke cal
mly as he switched mags. “Did I ever tell you about my buddy? He’s a Russian. He told me how his commanding officers used to stand behind their soldiers and shoot anyone who wasn’t pulling their weight or decided to retreat without orders.”

  Ezra winced at the dressing down. His rifle had been ready the whole time, so he was able to bring it to bear almost immediately. He aimed at a cloud in the general direction of the shooters, then popped off a bunch of rounds.

  “Yeah! Lay it on!” Christian hollered.

  He was exposed lying on the open highway, with nothing besides the thin metal rail to protect him, so he didn’t dare get up. Friends or not, if they saw a person stand up in the open, the people out there were going to shoot him. While Christian was busy firing, and while he legitimately fumbled with a replacement magazine, he advised Haley and Butch to fire at nothing, as he was doing.

  Two more men dropped dead. One of them was on the bank of the river, but the other was about ten feet to their right, a short way from the bridge span. As he watched blood spurt from the man’s face, he instantly realized it wasn’t a matter of rooting for one side or the other. The only thing of importance was getting out of the way of the bullets.

  “Come on, we’re getting behind the trucks,” he said in a loud voice to Haley and Butch.

  Christian overheard him. “Didn’t you understand what I said about the Russians? Take one step and I blow out your belly button from behind.”

  Anticline Ranch, WY

  After finishing their security discussion, Petteri had finally sent Mr. Aarons on his way. He sat alone in his office for a long time thinking about what to do next. Stricker was on his way to his final dig site. It wasn’t for a social visit. He had to decide if the time had come to do away with him, and he knew the perfect person to ask for a second opinion.

  He picked up the phone.

  Dorothy came in five minutes later.

  Petteri had her sit down. “How are you doing on arranging our, uh, malfunctioning spacecraft?” With him, in his command center, there was no small talk.

 

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