Impact (Book 5): Black

by Isherwood, E. E.

  An engine’s whine surprised her. A truck appeared fifty yards away. It was coming at them from the direction of the highway. It had its lights off, suggesting it was trying to be sneaky.

  “Watch this truck!” she shouted to her friends.

  Logan picked up his rifle.

  Asher let go of Diedre and did the same.

  “Wait a second,” Shawn insisted. “I think I recognize that motor. It’s a Windsor seven-and-a-half liter V8 pushing two hundred forty-five horsepower. I’d recognize it anywhere.”

  “Really?” she said, shocked.

  He listened for a few more seconds as the truck got closer. There didn’t seem to be anything distinctive about it, but Shawn chuffed as if he’d solved a riddle. “It’s my brother-in-law’s ’85 F-150. He talks up the specs of that old piece of junk every chance he gets.”

  “Calvin Tames Horse?” she asked, remembering the man’s distinctive name. He’d been the mechanic who’d gotten her truck running properly. He’d also put the wooden barricade in the back seat, welded on her rear door, and replaced some window glass. As much as anyone, he’d made the rest of her trip possible.

  “The one and only,” Shawn said, puffing out his chest.

  A white pickup truck came out of the darkness. She recognized it as the one Logan had used to drive her and Asher to the small piece of asteroid which had fallen on Crow lands.

  Logan and Shawn both waved. The driver put on his parking lights, illuminating the men. When he had parked, the skinny driver leaned out his window. “Logan? You there?”

  “I’m here,” the boy replied.

  Cal hopped out, obviously happy and excited. “I can’t believe we found you.”

  Logan ran over and hugged his uncle. “How the heck did you do it? We’re in the middle of nowhere right now.”

  When they separated, the skinny uncle came over to Shawn, who hadn’t moved. “His mother is with us.”

  Shawn held out his hand and shook with his brother-in-law.

  Calvin continued. “She’s not happy at what you’ve gotten her son into.”

  The Crow leader maintained his poise. “I’ll have to explain it to her. Things are more serious than any of you know. Who else is here? I need to tell you all what is coming our way.” He leaned to see around Calvin, expecting someone to be in the truck with him.

  Calvin pointed back toward the highway. “I brought the whole tribe.”

  Grace whistled in amazement. “All those lights are with you?” The traffic jam remained where it was. She assumed they were lined up for miles along the shoulder of the interstate.

  “Everyone who can carry a rifle. When the chairmen requests your presence, you mount your ride and hit the trail. We’re here to help.”

  They spoke with Calvin for several minutes about the logistics of getting the bulk of the tribe together. In return, Shawn explained their situation on the rails. The burning boxcar provided the backdrop for the danger still remaining above them.

  “It’s clear what we need to do,” Shawn finally said.

  She’d been thinking about their fortunes over the last few hours. Nerio could fly around without a care in the world, save for one unwieldy anti-tank gun which seemed to do little more than scare her away for a short time. What they needed was a more permanent way to take her out of commission.

  Grace looked to the engine glimmering in the darkness.

  Without thinking, she spoke aloud. “We need to use the engine as a trap.”

  The Crow leader became silent.

  She turned to him, realizing she’d stepped on his presentation. “Oh, sorry. I was just—”

  He waved her off with good humor. “It’s all right. I was about to say that very thing. The only way to end this is to trick her into committing to the wrong target. She has no idea who we have on our side now.” He shifted on his bad leg to look toward the highway. “My people.”

  Kansas City, MO

  Ezra brought Susan’s Grace around the bend in the river, but the scene ahead looked like they’d driven into the core of a nuclear reactor. A black orb was half-submerged in the middle of a giant lake. The black waters contrasted with the inferno of lights being held above the rock by cranes sitting on flat barges. Other watercraft hovered near the edge of the rock, as if eating away at the core.

  “It’s the asteroid fragment. It came down right next to downtown.” Ezra pointed toward the skeletal remains of the tall skyscrapers sitting on a hillside to the south.

  “What are they doing there?” Haley asked, still sitting low in the boat.

  “Mining,” he said automatically. There was no other reasonable explanation for the operation. A recovery effort would be focused on all those people on the shore, not the cause of the disaster. It was a mining company, and almost certainly it was TKM. Thinking the name, he turned the boat away from the center point on the lake.

  “Is that why everyone was shooting at us?” Haley asked.

  “I don’t know,” Ezra replied. “If they really thought we were with TKM, then I suppose they figured we were with these miners. Lucky for us. I’d be pissed too, if someone came to my town and started extracting ore while I was stuck in a tent.” He looked over his shoulder, to make sure the light show and gun attacks were over. While there were still a few pops of fireworks taking place, he was no longer able to see more than their tops.

  The dark blotch of the lake piqued his curiosity as he sped toward the fallen piece of space rock. The shorelines were about a mile north to south, giving him plenty of room to skirt around the recovery zone. However, there was so much light glaring off the dig site, his boat was impossible to miss.

  A guy on a crane leveled his rifle and fired.

  “Down!” he ordered.

  Other shooters immediately joined in, no doubt expecting trouble after such an extended and deafening warning from down the river.

  Three or four pings struck against the hull of the boat. Unlike the citizens on the shoreline, the men in the mining camp seemed qualified to hit moving targets. He imagined more of the TKM goons who’d been following them on the bridges. Did they call ahead, after all? Or was he simply another enemy to be shot on sight for daring to get close to their treasure?

  He swerved, starting evasive maneuvers.

  “You guys really pissed off the gods, didn’t you?” Haley asked from her hiding spot.

  “I swear we didn’t try!” he replied, ducking as more shots came out of the night.

  “Do we shoot back?” Butch asked, rifle already in hand.

  He’d hesitated shooting into a crowd of innocent people, but these guys weren’t innocent. It seemed not only justified, but appropriate. “Let ’er rip!”

  The boat skimmed over the calm waters of the lake, giving Butch and Haley the chance to situate themselves along the right side of the railing. The veteran fighter helped Haley line up her shots, then they both opened fire.

  “Shoot for the guys on the cranes!” Butch ordered.

  For the next thirty seconds, Ezra held his breath. The outboard was cranked all the way to maximum, spitting out three hundred fifty-horsepower, giving him at least fifty miles an hour. They made their way around the excavation. A dozen empty barges were moored upriver from the site, giving a hint at how much they intended to harvest.

  A bullet snapped off the engine housing, then five or six spurts of water erupted a short way off his starboard side. There was no hiding in darkness. No swerving necessary. At that moment, going around the rock, Susan’s Grace presented a juicy profile to the attackers. It was the most vulnerable point in their escape.

  Another bullet cracked into the engine, causing it to spurt and sputter for a few seconds before going back to normal.

  “Thank God,” he said to himself.

  Butch and Haley poured on return fire, but it was futile. They could only aim for sparks of light where they thought the shooters were perched. None of them stood in plain sight. As best he could tell, none of them fell to their
deaths like in the movies. Still, it was a comforting sight to watch his friends fight back.

  If they were on a clock, and the rock was the center point of the lake, he figured they’d made it to about the ten o’clock position before the engine sputtered again. The boat lurched forward as if the prop stopped spinning for a few seconds. Then it restarted.

  “Uh, we’ve got issues,” he said, his voice steeped in fear. If they stopped for good in the middle of the lake, they’d be in worse shape than sitting ducks. They’d be sitting ducks with huge spotlights pointed at them. “Come on,” he coaxed his boat.

  The motor resumed its powerful thrust, giving him hope they were going to make it. They creeped toward the eleven o’clock position, putting a little added distance between them and the shooters. However, another couple of rounds rattled the pontoons, then cracked into the plastic housing of the motor. A shower of sparks made him crumple into his seat.

  “Dang!” he blurted.

  The motor stopped abruptly. The boat immediately lost its momentum, stopping completely after a few dozen yards. They were at the edge of the lighted shooting gallery but were upriver. If they floated free, they’d go back toward the mining equipment. “I think we have to get off the boat,” he said evenly.

  More rounds came in. His nightmare about being an easy target was coming to life as he sat in his comfy seat looking at the broken depth finder.

  “Uh, what?” Butch asked with fear in his voice.

  Ezra scooted off his chair and scampered over to Haley. “Butch can’t swim. You have to help him.” As an afterthought, he asked her a follow up question. “You can swim, right?”

  “Of course. But he’s twice my size. It might take some time.”

  Butch looked back toward the motor. “You want to try the engine again? Maybe it’s still working…”

  “It’s not,” he snapped. “We’ve joked about it, but this time you really have to jump.”

  He gathered his rifle, as well as his backpack. He also yanked Butch’s rifle out of his hands. “I’ll get this to shore for you. Right now, I need you to go with Haley.”

  “In the water?” the big man asked, dubious of the answer.

  “Yes. Get in the damned water!” There wasn’t a chance he could push the giant of a man over the side, so he hoped he’d go on his own. Haley seemed to see the problem, so she talked with a lot more calm than Ezra.

  “Come on, my tall, cool, glass of milk. I’ll be with you the whole time.”

  Butch’s chest heaved as if his lungs were full of nothing but fear. But he let Haley lead him toward the front of the boat. Since there was no way to prevent Susan’s Grace from turning in the slow current, he had to accept the front was swinging toward shore, which was good, but it would soon swing all the way around, which would be bad.

  “Come on,” Ezra said under his breath. He didn’t want to be the first one in. It wasn’t because a captain was supposed to go down with his ship; he needed to make sure everyone was off before he abandoned it.

  As he sat there praying for Haley to get Butch over the side, he noticed a distinct tilt. One of the pontoons must have taken a lot of hits. Or his epoxy seals had broken.

  There was now no question Butch was going to get in the water.

  Susan’s Grace was sinking.

  CHAPTER 18

  Somewhere in Central Wyoming

  After Cal made sure there were no major threats at the site of the train attack, he gave the all clear for several more vehicles to leave the highway and come out onto the plains near the tracks. Logan and Shawn both became animated when a big red SUV pulled up.

  “It’s my mother,” Logan said to Grace on the sly.

  “Is it a good or bad thing?” she asked with equal confidentiality.

  “This time, it’s good. I would have gotten in trouble if she’d been the one there when I got back from Billings with you. Now, it’ll be my dad who’s in the hot seat.” The boy snickered.

  Several women climbed out of the SUV. They were all dressed in jeans, colorful long-sleeved shirts, and had their hair braided and in headbands. At first glance, they were dressed to work on a farm. Which, as she thought about it, made sense for where they were.

  “Logan?” a woman called out.

  The boy walked over to her. Instead of taking him in a hug, as Grace expected, the woman grabbed both his shoulders and looked him in the eyes. “What has your father gotten you into? He said to bring everyone I could, so I did. But I didn’t expect you to be involved with this.” She pointed to the burning boxcar a short way down the tracks.

  “Ka-hay, Mother. Hello. Don’t worry. Dad has been keeping me safe.”

  Grace knew it was an exaggeration beyond comprehension. No mother would want to hear her son and husband had been shot at multiple times over the past several days. She wondered how much Logan’s father had told her.

  “I’ll be the judge of that.” She tried to let her boy go, but he held on.

  “Wait. How did you find us here?”

  The woman was very pretty, even in the low light. She was tall, like her son, and carried herself with poise. However, when Logan asked the question, her shoulders slumped in the same motherly way her own mom’s had when asked a silly question.

  “The entire state saw your fancy light shows. The CB chatter about it has been nonstop. The real question you should be asking is who doesn’t know you’re here.” She finally separated herself from Logan and walked the short way to her husband.

  “And what’s your story?” she asked without preamble. “Why are you taking my son into a war?”

  Shawn Runs Hard held up his hands in mock surrender. “I can explain everything. I promise. I—”

  “You’ve been hurt,” his wife added, softening her tone. “Are you all right?” She closed the last few feet and hugged him.

  “It’s only a little leg wound. I’ll be fine.”

  They separated enough to see each other’s faces. She touched his cheek. “I brought the cavalry, as you requested.”

  Shawn smiled at her, then seemed to notice Grace gawking. He alternated between her and his wife. “Grace, this is my wife, Tyressa Runs Hard.”

  The woman seemed to look over Grace’s park ranger outfit, noting Asher wore the same style. “Nice to meet you. You two are government officials?”

  “Well, yes,” she agreed.

  “Can’t you get us any help? Why is it my husband had to call my people halfway across the state of Wyoming, when you could call the governor, or the president?”

  She chuckled. “It doesn’t really work that way. I haven’t even been in touch with my immediate supervisor back in Yellowstone. I don’t know if any of them are alive.”

  Tyressa thought it over, then relented. “I like to be the other half of Mr. Runs Hard’s brain. I’m sure he’s probably asked you the same question.”

  Grace was caught off guard. “I can’t remember…”

  The woman laughed it off. “I’m not trying to fly a bird in your tent. I only want to know what’s been shared between you, so I don’t waste your time. My husband said there are many threats out in the wild, including the mining company who tried to come onto our lands.”

  She nodded. “Right. We’re running from them. We’re also, uh, considering chasing them. We’re heading for their dig site to try to secure the wealth for your people.”

  “My people?” she said with surprise, turning her gaze back to her husband. “This is about money? You endangered my boy for nothing more important than money?”

  Grace felt a little sorry for the man as he became embroiled in explaining what he’d been doing the past several days. She moved closer to Asher and his sister, intent on letting the Crow woman interrogate her men.

  To her surprise, a glimmer of morning appeared on the eastern horizon.

  There was finally a new day with some hope. Assuming Shawn Runs Hard could get them to stay, they now had an entire tribe in their corner. There would, at the very least,
be safety in numbers.

  She was part of a pack.

  Kansas City, MO

  Haley was already in the water, treading to stay next to the pontoons and hiding from the lights and shooters at the asteroid fragment. Left with no choice, Butch put on his bravest face and threw himself over the edge of Susan’s Grace. After a brief but intensely uncoordinated arm thrashing, Butch let himself settle into Haley’s grip. “Just kick your feet, okay?” she said calmly.

  “I’ll try,” he replied, spitting out water.

  The boat was listing to the right, making it harder to climb out the left side. Ezra secured the guns, and his backpack, but he ditched all the hard-earned treasure they’d gotten from Bass Pro. He lamented they hadn’t even been able to properly use the expensive camp tents before losing them.

  He slipped into the water, not far behind Butch.

  “Paddle!” he insisted.

  The current was relaxed on the lake, but it was flowing a little. They used the boat to shield them from the workers, which required them to swim faster before the boat got too far away. Thankfully, most of the shooting had stopped, probably because it was clear the boat was out of commission. He absently noted to himself the men weren’t killing them for sport…

  Don’t jinx it.

  Ahead, Haley had helped Butch shift, so he was on his back. She held him under the shoulders, in the classic pose of a lifeguard rescuing a lost swimmer. It was touching to see her take such good care of his friend.

  They were ashore in minutes. As he clambered onto the rocks, he experienced a flashback to doing the same thing on that first night at Kentucky Lake. He’d left Susan in the water to go rescue his guns from the fire eating away his house. As he pulled off those same two guns, he realized they, not his boat, were the last two links to the love of his life. He set them gently on the rocks, then helped Butch come ashore.

  “Do you know how to swim now?” he joked to the big guy.

  Butch could have been a wet cat for how miserable he appeared. “I had a great teacher. She talked me through it. However, I’d just as soon never do that again.”