Bounce: Impact Book 2: (A Post-Apocalyptic Survival Thriller Series)

by E. E. Isherwood

  There was silence on the line. “Now, look, I appreciate all you’ve done for me, but I don’t think we can continue our, uh, partnership. We’re in the middle of a serious crisis.” Stricker spoke with surprising aggression, a trait he’d never shown in person. “It might be best if you let us do our job. Then, after the country is getting back to normal, we can talk about what you need.”

  Petteri returned the favor by keeping silent for a ten-count. “My dear Mr. Stricker. TKM has the resources and the know-how to be on the ground in under twelve hours, wherever you need us. I have men at two dozen mines throughout the affected area and each has a contingent of security and recovery vehicles. They—”

  Stricker cut him off. “With all due respect, this is above your pay grade. Our arrangement doesn’t cover anything like this.”

  He pounced. “Oh, but it does. I’ve made a very generous offer to you, and I insist you take it with good grace.” His words were calm and measured, as always, but he put some emphasis on the word insist.

  “Or what?” Stricker countered.

  If the disgusting man would have been in his office, he never would have tried to be so insolent. It seemed the distance gave him courage. However, they both knew the long reach of TKM. He didn’t need to yell, or bang the desk, or even make overt threats. “You know what happened in Vladivostok?”

  The line seemed to go dead, but it wasn’t quite the same tone. Petteri assumed the other man had muted his line and was probably shouting curse words. Vladivostok would remind the sniveling government cog that there was nowhere on Earth he could hide if things went sideways with their arrangement. The last government peon who tried to back out had fled to the distant Russian city on the far side of the planet. One of Howard’s men tracked him down…

  Stricker came back on the line only long enough to say, “Welcome to the recovery effort.”

  Chapter 7

  Yellowstone National Park, WY

  Grace and Asher jogged toward the survivors at the edge of the canyon. The gravel path was well-worn, as if vehicles had recently driven through, and the lower part of her trousers were white with dust by the time they reached the waiting people.

  “Ahoy!” she called out as she approached.

  A few adults came to meet her. Behind them, more people and vehicles were parked along the creek. The blast had tipped over some of the pines near the top of the tall hillsides about a hundred feet above the water, but lower down the trees appeared normal.

  “Are you all right in there?” she asked, breathing hard from the short run.

  An older man in jeans and a flannel shirt stepped in front of the others. “We’re fine. We don’t have to leave, do we?”

  His words surprised her. “No, you don’t have to leave, but you should. The meteorites impacted farther south in the park. Fires are spreading to the north. It will probably come here in the next little while.” She had no way of seeing beyond the walls of the canyon; there was no smoke blowing around up there, which was a plus, yet it didn’t mean the flames weren’t approaching. The safe move was to get them out of the tight spot.

  He nodded. “A ranger told us to come here to be safe, which was true, though that’s as far as anyone trusted the park service. A few went out last night as soon as it was clear we weren’t going to burn up. Some others left at first light this morning. The rest of us aren’t sure what to do. We came out when we heard you and your convoy come through. They sure were moving fast. Is that because of the fire?”

  She didn’t know if it was fair to say the fire caused them to speed up, or if it was good old-fashioned panic. Whatever the source, maybe she could use it to her advantage. “The fire has reached Mammoth Hot Springs. We all came from there.”

  “So it is heading for us,” the man replied.

  “Yes,” she agreed. There was no point in hedging her bets. People’s lives were in danger, so she had the obligation to lay out the worst-case scenario.

  The man glanced over to Asher as if to see if he’d back her up. He touched the brim of his hat and flashed a little salute to the tourist. The guy turned back to her. “I’ll get my family.”

  Another man joined the conversation. “We’re staying here. It’s the only place to stay safe if another of those rocks come down.”

  A few other adults had gathered nearby, and some of them seemed to nod in agreement with him. The fire was to the south, which was upriver in the valley. If the flames continued north, and got into the constricted walls of the canyon, it would burn the people out of their tents.

  She spoke as loud as possible. “Ladies and gentlemen. We’re with the National Park Service, as you can see.”

  “I’m new,” Asher said in an anxious voice.

  Grace sighed. “Yes, he’s the new guy. We both advise you to leave here and head east. It’s the only road still open on account of all the fires.” She refused to send them back toward Mammoth, as there was no way to know if the fire had engulfed the road.

  “There won’t be any more falling pieces,” Asher interjected, “because the asteroid already broke apart and fell to Earth. That means you should fear the fire, not the impacts of junk from space.”

  “How do you know?” a woman shouted from nearby.

  Asher flashed a smile. “In addition to being with the, uh, park service, I have a sister who works in the aerospace industry. She has access to all manner of science and technology. She’s the one who told Ranger Grace and me about the approaching pieces, then we told you.”

  “Hey, she’s the lady ranger who told us to come here!” A young teen boy pointed at Grace, giving her some sense of satisfaction at being recognized. It was so disorganized last night; she was surprised anyone made it to the canyon.

  Asher went on. “That’s her. She’s done some amazing things to keep me alive, including getting me out of a huge forest fire. If she’s telling you to leave, you should listen.”

  The teen boy stepped closer and spoke to Asher. “Aren’t you rangers supposed to know how to stay away from fires? Did you mess up, or something?”

  Grace chuckled.

  If you only knew.

  She jumped in to save Asher before the truth leaked out. “That’s how crazy these fires are. Even rangers get caught in them. It’s the reason why you have to get out of here, right?”

  Her argument got most of them moving, so she and Asher started back to the main convoy. By the time they reached the pavement, a small fleet of about twenty different cars and trucks, plus a couple of RVs, lined up on the dirt path behind her. Even with those numbers, she didn’t think it could possibly be everyone from the valley.

  “Should I go back and try to get the rest of them to come?” she asked Asher.

  He shrugged. “I’m glad you got the ones you did. They seemed pretty content inside their happy little canyon.”

  “They’re scared to leave. I guess I know how they feel.” When people found places of safety, they tended to want to stay there. It was why she didn’t want to leave the safety of Bay Bridge campground two nights ago, it was why the survivors had stuck around the visitors’ center until the morning, and it explained the wary tourists in Gardner Canyon. Unless they could see the disaster looming in front of them, they’d hunker down.

  She got back in her truck, unsure if there was a protocol for what was happening. She could send the convoy ahead and try to catch up later, but there were more people to worry about in the cars than in the canyon. The harsh reality was she’d presented herself as the leader of the convoy to get them to follow her, so she had to do some leading.

  Behind her, and on the intersecting gravel road, she counted about fifty vehicles, give or take. Ahead, the lightning storm was obscured by a nearby ridge, the gray skies charged with energy. The glare of multiple lightning strikes bounced off clouds all around them.

  Grace started the motor and revved the engine.

  “Time to make tracks,” she declared.

  Kentucky

  Brenda
Bowden’s authority had withered on the vine at the top of the hill yesterday, thanks to his intrepid wife, but Ezra still wasn’t comfortable around her. He tried to keep walking as she came across a nearby lawn, knowing he couldn’t get away without appearing like he feared her, so he stopped to let her approach.

  “I heard you went out to find help for me.” Babs looked around. “Where’s the ambulance?”

  He sighed heavily. “You’re going to have to wait a little longer, Babs. The ambulances are all out on other calls. Lots of people are injured worse than you are.” He tried to walk away, but she grabbed his arm.

  “Where are you going?”

  Ezra couldn’t stop himself from smirking. “It’s none of your business.”

  She whispered. “I know we haven’t always seen eye-to-eye, but you have to get me some help. None of the others will venture out. They want to stay with their piles of garbage.”

  “Gee, I wonder why?” he hissed. “You’ve got everyone thinking they have to guard their property, or you’ll take it away. It worked on me yesterday, distracting from what really mattered.” He thought again of the Quonset hut garage. He’d been so close to it, never thought to look in people’s outbuildings. “Give it a day or two. They’ll have to leave eventually.”

  Babs looked at her broken arm. “A day or two?”

  Ezra shook her off and spoke loud enough for the neighbors to hear. “No help is coming! Take care of each other.” He wanted to curse at them and brag openly that he was never coming back, but he knew it was smarter to keep his options open. If things were worse than he anticipated on the outside, he might need to come back and regroup. Burning bridges to make himself feel good for a few minutes wouldn’t help him or Grace over the long term.

  “Come back!” Babs shouted.

  He kept walking. After making it fifty yards, he looked back to ensure she wasn’t coming after him. The woman’s head was on the shoulder of another lady, presumably because she was in tears. He turned to face forward again, not taking any pleasure in seeing the woman break down.

  “That was awkward,” Butch finally said.

  “You have no idea. She’s been my worst nightmare the last few years.”

  Butch glanced over his shoulder. “I think you’ve won the final battle, E-Z. You’ve heard the lamentation of their women, like Conan the Barbarian.”

  He wasn’t sure how to respond to his statement, so he kept walking. They went onto the county road and turned south. Once they passed the church van where he’d rescued the children the previous night, he knew Butch’s vehicle was somewhere close by.

  “Do you want to stop at your truck?” he asked.

  “Nope. There’s nothing in there I couldn’t get from any of these other vehicles.” The line of cars faced south; many of their windows were blown out. If they wanted to steal goods from inside, it would have been easy. There were only a few people hovering around the fringes, waiting, like Babs, for someone to come rescue them.

  They walked for nearly an hour and the traffic only got thicker. Cars had parked in both lanes, blocking out all north-bound travel. As they went on, cars parked on both shoulders, making it appear like four lanes of traffic all headed south.

  “We’re coming to the bridge,” he said, after having plenty of time to think about the cause of the pile up. Ezra didn’t have a firm plan of action, since much depended on what he’d find once he was on the road, but he assumed the traffic was going to lighten up at some point. Butch earlier explained how the bridge was a big source of the problem, so they only had to get beyond it before things got better.

  “Why don’t we borrow those?” Butch said as he pointed to a bike rack attached to the trailer hitch of an out-of-state car. There were three bikes; two adult-sized, and one for a kid. There was no one around to claim them, and the whole highway in the area appeared as if it had been abandoned. They would certainly cut down on travel time.

  “Did you ‘borrow’ things on your tour overseas?” he asked in a good-natured way.

  Butch looked at him like he’d gone mad. “Have you seen how they live over there? What would I take? Their cooking stones?”

  Ezra was uneasy about commandeering the bikes, but his attempts at humor were even more awkward. He’d tried to make light of the act of borrowing since it went against everything he stood for, at least before the meteorite impacts. That said, he’d already scrounged what he needed to leave his neighborhood: the backpacks as well as what was inside of them. A precedent had been set.

  “We’ll try to return them if we come back through here,” he decided, hoping he’d get the chance. “And I’ll even write a note.” The child’s backpack contained some pencils and a few pages of loose-leaf paper. He scratched out a note stating who he was, and that he’d borrowed the bikes. The doors were locked, and the rolled-up windows had somehow survived the shockwave, so he needed to shove the paper through the door frame above the window. It fell onto the front seat, as he’d planned.

  “There. Now we’re legit.” Ezra rubbed his hands together.

  “We’re lucky they didn’t use a bike lock,” Butch remarked as he unhooked the bikes from the rack.

  He and Butch jumped on and rode the bikes alongside the roadway. Butch’s large size made him look uncomfortable on his bicycle, but he managed to keep it moving. Ezra had enough time to enjoy the feeling of wind in his face, but minutes later they came to the intersection at the approach to the bridge. A handful of men stood on the road to the right, away from the bridge. Murray was twenty miles down the road behind them.

  “Hold up!” one of them shouted.

  Ezra saw the guns in their hands, but thought nothing of it. Everyone with competence was going to have rifles at the ready, especially with so many strange people on the roads. They were like him; protecting their neighborhood and their loved ones inside it.

  “You know these guys?” Butch asked as he wobbled on his bike, trying to put his foot down.

  “No, but they’re locals. They’ll be good guys.”

  I hope.

  Chapter 8

  Yellowstone National Park, WY

  “Now how do you feel about being a ranger?” Grace asked Asher after they’d been on the road for an hour. Looking back along the long, straight stretch of highway, they had a good view of the entire procession, including the additions from Gardner Canyon. Red and blue lights flashed on top of Tessa’s truck, giving an easy way to see her at the rear.

  “It’s pretty cool. We’re actually saving those people’s lives.” He thumbed behind him. “It’s a good thing you remembered they were in the canyon.”

  They’d been on her mind last night while they hid in the extinct geyser. She couldn’t have forgotten about them if she’d tried. Knowing they’d survived was liberating. “I’m glad you like it. Maybe, when this is all over, you’ll consider a career change and come to work for the park service for real. They hire guys like you. I mean, sure, you don’t have field experience, but they do hire geologists and other naturalists with advanced degrees. Yellowstone’s one of the most unique places in the world, geologically speaking. It should be right in your wheelhouse.”

  “Do you like the park service?” he asked, sounding like he was on a job interview. “I mean, besides the uniforms.”

  She cocked her head toward him. “I love the service, and who says I don’t like this uniform? I actually really do. It’s nice to not have to worry about buying fancy clothes every day. I have a friend teaching high school students. She buys new dresses almost every other week, so she doesn’t get caught wearing the same ensemble in the same month.” She took a breath. “Not only that, but I don’t have to worry about fancy hairstyles, expensive jewelry, or the latest perfumes. We’re pretty much all natural out here.”

  Left unsaid was her appreciation for not having to spend a dime on those unnecessary things. Her life on Kentucky Lake was great for the most part, but her parents weren’t rich. Her mom was known to use and dry out the same
paper towel five or six times before she threw it in the composter. In school, buying fancy dresses only happened once a year, before picture day. It made her curious to know about Asher’s background and childhood. Before she could ask, the radio squawked an interruption.

  “Hey, Grace, this is Tessa. I can see you at the head of the line. We should be at Cooke City in a few miles. If there are people there, I’d like to stop for a short time. I picked up a burn victim before we left the visitors’ center and he’s in bad shape.”

  She and Asher looked at each other with concern. “Burn victim?” she mouthed to him, without broadcasting on the CB. “She can’t mean Misha, right?”

  Asher shook his head. “Hell no. There’s no way he made it.”

  She wanted to believe him, but how many burn victims could be out there? One quick reply could give her the answer, but she didn’t ask the question. If Misha was in Tessa’s truck, Grace couldn’t ask about him on an open channel. If the hitman thought she was on to him, it might put Tessa and Chester in danger.

  The CB mic suddenly seemed heavy in her hand. She had to choose her words carefully and sound casual while doing it. “Hey, Tessa, we’ll stop if possible. I’m not sure I can get back there; do what you can to make him comfortable, okay?”

  “Roger that, Grace. Tessa out.”

  She’d put the microphone in the cradle when Asher spoke up. “I just remembered why I don’t want to become a park ranger. I never want to be responsible for someone who also wants to kill me.”

  Grace exhaled to steady her clenched insides. “We don’t even know if it’s him.”

  “You’re going back there, though, right?” he asked.

  “I’m tempted to not stop until we get over the mountains and into the barracks for the state police. I don’t care which state. There has to be someone out there who can help us.”