Impact (Book 5): Black

by Isherwood, E. E.

  “Holy shit!” he whispered, his heart shredding his insides.

  All three TKM trucks were there. Five men were out of their vehicles, huddled around what could have been a map. Planning their mission, exactly as he had done with his team.

  One of the men caught sight of him—

  Ezra already had his rifle out and aimed. He used his 4X scope to dial in on any blue shirt. They were less than fifty yards away. He couldn’t miss.

  It’s me or them.

  His first shot created a red blotch in a man’s side.

  The next one went into the shoulder of a different guy.

  The men didn’t have their weapons out, creating a multi-second dilemma for him. Was it wrong to shoot unarmed men, even if you knew they were out to kill you? Whatever the moral situation might have been, the element of surprise created a golden opportunity he wasn’t going to squander. He strode a few paces forward and took a knee, searching for his next target. His heart slammed against his ribs, giving him instant tunnel vision, and leaving him a little dizzy.

  The two mercenaries he’d struck fell where they were. One of the men ran away from the trucks, for reasons he would never understand. Ezra lined him up and squeezed out four missed shots before scoring hits with bullets five and six.

  He’d counted through fifteen shots.

  A man by the trucks had finally retrieved his rifle and returned fire, which woke Ezra from his bloodlust.

  “Oh, damn!” He skittered in reverse toward the backside of the levee, realizing he was on top of the blacktop road, presenting a huge silhouette against the blue sky.

  He fired three more rounds at the lone shooter as he retreated across the roadway. At the last second, not hearing return shots, he paused, lined the man in his scope, and saw him stick his head up from behind the hood of his truck. Ezra pulled the trigger. When he still didn’t hear incoming rounds, he looked through his glass again. Ezra wanted to retch.

  The man stumbled and fell sideways, next to his vehicle. He’d lost half of his face.

  An engine started up. The first truck in the line moved forward. Ezra was still out in the open. Behind him a farm field of immature corn gave him no place to run. He couldn’t run on the levee, nor could he run up the bridge toward Butch. The span was half a mile long. In the far recesses of his mind, he realized their attack plan was always destined to fail. Neither he nor Butch would see or hear the other from opposite ends of the long bridge.

  The blue truck came out of the dip, tires slinging gravel rocks into the wheel wells. It neared the highway, leading Ezra to figure out his only course of action.

  Fighting the fear in his shaking hands, he raised the rifle and aimed on the round shape behind the steering wheel. His first shot was low. It cracked off the front grille of the truck.

  The man’s handlebar mustache came into focus. The driver pointed at him and laughed, as if he was going to run him over. Ezra figured he had time for two shots, then he’d have to try jumping to either side. His first went into the glass close to his target, forcing the wild-eyed man lower in his seat.

  “Damn!”

  Though there was little of the man exposed, round number twenty-one went through the glass low on the windshield, exactly where he wanted. To be sure, he put one more wild shot on target, then flung himself sideways, losing his rifle in the panic.

  The truck roared by without stopping.

  Ezra watched it continue along the levee and then drive off the side of the berm and into the corn field. The vehicle kept going for about a hundred yards before slowing, then it stopped. No one got out, leading him to conclude his defensive fire had done its job.

  “Thank you, God. Thank you, Susan.” To his disappointment, his heart refused to slow down. It beat as if he were still running at full speed.

  “Ezra!” Butch cried out from far away.

  The big guy was out on the bridge sprinting his way. Ezra finally experienced some relief. His heart slowed, as if knowing help was close.

  Haley came up to him, breathing hard. “Hey, Ezra.”

  He looked again, wiping sweat from his eyes. Butch was still out on the bridge, about a hundred yards back. While only expecting his buddy, he’d missed the young woman approaching. Haley had outrun him by a good margin.

  She knew what he was thinking. “He’s slow. I figured you needed some help.”

  “They were all waiting for us.” He motioned to the far side of the road but held her back when she made like she was going to go over there. “Don’t.”

  “Okay,” she replied, warily holding her rifle.

  “I just wanted you to be ready, in case they come at us.” He could barely breathe, which upset him greatly standing next to the fit woman. The gunfight had taken the literal wind out of his proverbial sails. In contrast, she’d sprinted across the half-mile bridge and barely seemed to notice.

  Butch arrived a short time later, also sounding like the run was nothing. After Ezra motioned to the dip behind the levee, the soldier crept up on the scene of the battle. When he looked over, through his scope, he squeezed a shot off. The report surprised Haley, and for some reason it also shocked him.

  Butch stood up. “That sucked. One wounded guy tried to get a bead on me. I couldn’t let it happen. So, uh, I think they’re all dead now. I see three by the trucks, plus one farther down the way. Weren’t there five of them?”

  Ezra pointed to the truck out in the field on their side of the highway. “He’s the last one. Let’s go check on him together. He’s the ringleader. Mustache man. I’m pretty sure I got the guy.”

  The three of them walked into the corn.

  CHAPTER 12

  Somewhere in Central Wyoming

  The train arrived ten minutes after Grace and the others jumped to the tracks to escape Nerio’s bullets. Once they explained what had happened, the group posted guards at both ends of the thousand-foot-long tunnel and waited to see if the helicopter would show up again. It gave Grace a place of safety to deal with Misha.

  “Tell me again why we should trust you? Who is this woman? How does she know you? Why does she think you would even consider killing us?” Frustration leaked into her voice. “I took your word it was necessary to go the opposite way from my father. Was that a lie, too?”

  “I already told you everything. My career with TKM was in security. I knew of men and women like Nerio. Paid thugs who did work I never needed to know about. But they are not only thugs. They are highly trained. Intelligent. She knew enough about me to suspect I would go certain direction when set free.” His shoulders slumped in a very un-Misha-like act of contrition. “And I am thinking she was right. I did lead her to you. Not other way around, as I thought.”

  She kicked at the gravel next to the railroad tracks. “Forget all that. It’s water under the bridge. I want to know why we should place our lives in your hands. Why should we trust you have friends where you’re taking us? Maybe they’ll betray you, too.”

  “Water under bridge?” the Russian asked with curiosity.

  She answered. “It means we can’t change what happened.”

  “Ah.” Misha walked toward the wall of the tunnel, then leaned against it, pulling out a pack of smokes. As he lit one up, he offered the pack to her and Asher.

  “No, thanks,” she said with impatience.

  Asher took longer to wave him off. He’d given them up over the past week and probably thought getting shot at by a sniper was a good reason to pick up the habit again. To Grace’s relief, he didn’t break down and accept. It struck her how much she cared for the guy, even when they weren’t kissing under high-stress situations.

  Misha lit up, took a long drag, then looked at her. “When I left dig site south of Yellowstone, it was well organized. Well defended. My friends and I had expertly kicked out competing mining company…we kept peace by flying helicopters over nearby lands. But when I got to Denver and saw how chaotic Tikkanen had made it, I knew it was only matter of time before Yellowstone site
would go same way. Each person kicked out of Denver will go to next one. Draw of money is too great.”

  “I get it,” she affirmed.

  “Petteri almost shot me on spot when I arrived. Nerio saved me. At first, I thought it was professional courtesy. Now I know better. You can trust me because I have nothing left to live for but revenge. My family in Russia is dead. Is all water under bridge, as you said. It was Petteri Tikkanen who did it. Killing you to get back in graces of a monster is not how Misha Gagarin plays game.”

  She almost believed him. “But you would have killed us if your family was still alive?”

  He took a drag. “You already know answer to this question. I did not kill you when I had chance. Multiple times.”

  Grace accepted the truth of it. At the time, he’d claimed it was payback for saving his life, but a less scrupulous assassin would have ignored the imbalance and simply done away with her. She’d thought about it a lot over the past few days, but it was the first time she realized he didn’t have to abide by an agreement at all. He didn’t kill her back then since he wasn’t actually a cold-blooded killer.

  However, there was a killer out there.

  She inhaled, sucking in some of the stinky cigarette smoke. Maybe it was her who was stuck in the past. She couldn’t ignore the facts of the last few hours. He’d saved their lives again by getting them into the safety of the tunnel. “Fine. We have to trust you. How the heck do we escape this tunnel, get across the state of Wyoming, and make it to your friends?”

  Misha saw her distaste for the fumes, so he blew them away from her. “The middle of Wyoming has lot more places to hide train. I saw it all on my helicopter ride to Denver. Tracks go in valleys. Along rivers. Through trees. Once it gets dark, we will split up again and go in your truck to scout ahead. Maybe we will catch her in air. Maybe not.”

  “You don’t sound too sure of yourself,” Asher volunteered.

  “I do not, my friend. A helicopter can fly at night. We have no night-vision equipment. No way to get any. We have to push through while we can. There is no waiting out darkness.”

  She looked outside the tunnel on her end, which faced east. The sun was low in the sky, casting the tops of distant clouds in soft, orange light. She felt marginally better about Misha the person, but he didn’t sound as if he believed his plan would work.

  Once it got dark, the predator would see them, but they wouldn’t see her in return.

  Miami, MO

  Ezra and Butch made a big production about sneaking up to the truck in the field, each taking a side, weapons drawn. However, when they reached the front window, the blood splatter all over the interior assured him they’d been cautious for nothing.

  “You got ’em, E-Z. You got him good.”

  “Yeah,” he agreed, stomach reeling.

  Haley took a peek inside before glancing somewhere else. If she was upset by what was left of mustache man, she didn’t let on. Instead, she hastened to the cargo bed of the truck. “Jackpot!”

  He and Butch joined her.

  “Let’s take what we can,” he suggested. “These guys obviously looted a store somewhere. This is probably all from Bass Pro.” The back bed of the pickup truck was filled with camping and survival gear. There were multiple tents. Sleeping bags. Cooking stoves. Tanks of propane.

  “Butch, could I ask you a huge favor?” he said while they stood admiring the gear.

  “Anything, boss.”

  “Would you open the door and yank our guy out of the front seat? We’re going to drive this truck out of the field, down the levee, and back to my boat. It will save us the effort of carrying this stuff.”

  “I’ll help,” Haley said without hesitation.

  He gave her a sideways look.

  “I know what you’re thinking. Why?” She smiled. “I know what it’s like to be in shock after violence.” Her eyes went to his hands, which he held over the lip of the truck’s bed. They trembled enough to be noticed.

  “Damn,” he said, pulling them behind the side of the truck.

  She and Butch made short work of the task. They opened the door, pulled the man out, then Butch used his strength to drag the guy several more yards out into the corn, so he was out of sight. When they were done, they used something from the bed to wipe down the rear window. They also put a camo jacket over the seat, to hide the blood. It was more than he’d asked, but the delay gave him needed time to calm himself and bring his blood pressure back down to normal.

  While they worked, he used Haley’s phone to try Grace again. After what he’d done, he needed to hear her voice. However, it went to her voicemail. He was anxious to hear her, even in recorded form, which was why he noticed she’d changed the recording again. It said she was going west, not east. A huge change.

  He calmed himself before speaking, so she wouldn’t worry about him. “Hi, honey. I got your voice message. I won’t go into Denver. We’re on the river, though, heading west. I’ll try to get to where you said. TKM has been after us. They almost killed me.” It came out without him consciously saying it. Inside, he must have needed to talk to her more than he admitted. Still, he tried to end without sounding worried. “I have to go. I love you.”

  Once back at the boat, they didn’t hop in and go. Ezra advised them to take their time, since there was no one coming for them. They could finally stow things in a logical way.

  He grabbed three sleeping bags. Transferred two tents. He considered bringing one of the propane stoves but didn’t think it would mix well with bullets. He also thought about taking all the extra rifles, but if anyone ever figured out the three of them were responsible for the attack, they wanted the authorities to know the dead men were armed and dangerous. They already had three good rifles and bulk ammo to share between them. Finally, after loading all the new gear on the boat, he realized he’d missed a critical piece of their leisurely boarding process.

  “Um, people. This is all wrong.”

  “It wasn’t me,” Butch replied sarcastically.

  “Yes, it was,” Ezra insisted. “You let me load all our stuff while we have a perfectly good truck at our disposal.”

  Butch gave him a blank look. “I’m not tracking you.”

  “We ate some more bullets, which added to those already in the pontoons. We can use this truck’s tow hitch to pull the boat onto the shore, then I’ll use the epoxy to properly seal the holes, then you two fine youngsters can push Susan’s Grace back into the water.”

  “That doesn’t sound fun,” Haley deadpanned.

  “What part of this has been fun?” he asked seriously.

  She turned pensive. “Seeing my Liam play with Josephine’s black lab was a little fun.”

  Butch materialized next to her, then slung his arm loosely over her shoulder, as if not quite sure he should do it. However, she leaned into him, before continuing. “I’m sorry, I don’t want to bring down the mood.”

  He chuckled a little. “Haley, you have nothing to worry about with the two of us. Our moods have been in the crapper since we left Kentucky. The only thing keeping us going is our sense of humor. Sometimes, all you can do is laugh.”

  Butch picked up on his vibe. “Yeah, you have to laugh when the dam breaks in front of you.”

  Ezra continued. “You have to crack up when six thugs force you to take six lives.”

  Haley brushed back some of her bangs. “You have to laugh when the only way to keep your furry friends safe is to leave them in a remote country town.”

  “That’s the spirit,” he said in a soothing tone. “I’d be happy to drive you back down the river so you can get out and stay with your pets. My daughter’s voicemail said she’s on the move. We’re not going to Denver. We’re going to Yellowstone. It could change a dozen more times, so you don’t have to come with us…” He hung it out there now that they weren’t under the gun. It amazed him how fast his perspective changed when no one was chasing them. They could go up the river. Down the river. It didn’t matter, as long
as they eventually went toward Grace.

  She seemed to think about it. “If I’m honest with myself, I got on the boat to escape what happened to Xander. Before he died, he told me to find someone who could protect me. Since the TKM people were rampaging through St. Charles, he thought a second wave of violence was coming, and he wanted me to be ready for it.”

  Haley tilted her head to look at Butch. “I knew you were capable of keeping me safe, and I’ve already admitted part of my reasoning was, um, because you were a cool drink of milk.” She giggled. “But all these men shooting at us tells me Xander was right. I need to stick with someone who can take care of himself. Someone who can train me to survive. If you’ll let me stay, I really think I found the right guys.” As an afterthought, she looked over to Ezra.

  He shrugged. “It was only an offer. I think I speak for both of us when I say you’ve made our day brighter, not darker.”

  Butch nodded. “He speaks for us both.”

  “Aww,” she bubbled. “You want me to stay?”

  “I do,” Butch croaked.

  She separated from him, brandishing a toothy smile. “Good. You can unload the gear. I’m hoping Ezra will show me how to hook his boat to the back of the truck with a tow strap. I have to learn, right?”

  He and Butch shared a knowing look. In that moment, he’d never seen his friend happier. It was a nice silver lining to the day they’d endured.

  The muddy water continued to flow by, even as the shade of the trees blocked the sun and cooled things down. He figured it had been a couple of hours since he’d first set foot on dry land, and the day had gotten away from him.

  To all, he added, “Let’s hurry. Once we fix the boat, we’ll steer the truck into the water to make it disappear. Then I want to get a few more miles while we still have some light.”