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

by E. E. Isherwood

  “Dang it!” he yelped.

  She slid a few feet to slow her momentum, intending to go back and help him, but her foot caught on packed snow and sent her tumbling next to the Suburban. About ten feet later, she finally came to a complete stop.

  Grace popped up and glanced back to Asher. He propped himself up, too, and smiled with a soot-covered face. They both snickered for a moment, which unleashed a wave of laughter.

  “I can’t believe that just happened,” she gushed.

  “I know, right? It seems like someone has it in for us. Maybe the asteroid’s ore has changed the Earth’s magnetic poles or something. I think the only way to fight it is to find a bunker deep in the Earth, so nothing else can drop on our heads or make us fall.”

  “Maybe,” she allowed. “All I know is we have to get out of this snow. It isn’t letting up at all.”

  Asher struggled with his hands as he got to his feet. A few seconds later, after standing up, too, he threw a snowball into her shoulder.

  “Hey!” she pleaded. “That’s unbecoming of a park ranger.”

  He bent over and fashioned a second one. “Oh, really?” He wound up, then tossed it at her with respectable speed. She dodged it as it went into the cargo bed of the Suburban.

  “Really,” she said dryly.

  Asher repeated his steps, got another one, and chucked it at her. This time she wasn’t able to dodge it; her thigh deflected the blackened orb.

  She tried to walk to the open door of her truck, but another snowball hit her in the back. Her brain complained it wasn’t the time to be goofy; two fellow rangers had just died in a horrible fashion. Inappropriate though it was, her heart needed an outlet for all the pent-up fear she’d been keeping bottled inside.

  I’m only going to throw one to shut him up.

  “That’s how it’s going to be?” she quipped as she hunched over to scoop up two handfuls of snow. She mashed them together, got it into the shape of a ball, then whirled around and flung it at Asher.

  He was closer than she’d anticipated, and her aim was surprisingly good. The snowball blew apart on the bridge of her friend’s nose. Pieces flew everywhere; his hair, his neck, and into the hood of his coat like it was a big scoop. The impact completely shut him up in a worse way than she’d intended.

  “Oh. My. God. I am so sorry, Asher.” She plodded the few feet back to him. Distant sparks of lightning provided a bit of extra illumination, as did her headlights.

  He stood there wiping snow off his neck, and out of his hood. When she was close enough to see his face, and look into his brown eyes, her emotional bubble blew apart. Her remorse at throwing the snowball transitioned into sorrow at losing two lives. Grace threw herself into Asher’s arms and belted out an impossible-to-contain sob. “They’re dead!”

  “I know,” he said sadly.

  Asher let her cry on his shoulder, and he rubbed the back of her thick coat, but she only let herself savor the comfort for a minute, tops. When she didn’t dare to take any more, she pulled back from him and wiped her eyes. “My emotions are out of control.”

  “I’ve heard almost dying will do that to you,” he said dryly. “We’ve almost bought our headstones about six times and counting.”

  She stepped back, forcing him to let go. “Thanks for your kindness. We have to get out of here before more of those cars come over the top. When we get to a working phone, I’m going to call a park ranger help line and have them close the gate to Beartooth Pass so no one else goes up there. I should have thought of that when we were up top. We could have left a car on the side of the road to block the dangerous route, or something.”

  It helped her emotions to talk clinically about warning people. However, before she turned and went to the truck, she shuffled back to be close to Asher. She reached up and tenderly wiped the remaining bits of snow from his brow. Then, since her heart screamed out for some bit of life-affirming reassurance, she pulled him into a brief kiss.

  When it ended, she looked into his eyes, aware that with all the excitement she’d overlooked an important life-changing event. “Thank you for saving my life back there.”

  Asher smiled proudly, then tried to pull her back for another smooch as she held a finger to his lips. “We really do have to leave.”

  He smiled crookedly, like taking a snowball to the face had been his idea.

  Suddenly, she imagined things were going to be all right.

  Kentucky Lake, KY

  “Hang on! That’s going to save us!” Ezra shouted to Butch. He gunned the johnboat’s little outboard, and prayed it had enough power to get them over to the nearby runaway barge. He’d given up all hope of making it to shore. The entire lake was draining through the dam and they were caught in the middle of the channel, far from the bank. Their only hope of living past the rough waters of the breach was to get on a more substantial vessel. The barge was it.

  “Don’t worry; I can’t let go!” Butch shouted back.

  The engine sputtered for a second as the propeller struck an object beneath the waves. Ezra exhaled in relief when the motor kept running and the spinning prop sounded normal; it hadn’t shattered. Avoiding every piece was almost impossible, as a person could practically walk across the mile-wide lake on all the debris blown into the water. He raised the trim a bit to bring the blades closer to the surface, hoping to weave through the visible trash.

  A second barge rammed into the one he’d aimed for, sending both into spins. He backed off for a short time, until the ladder up the side of the floating cargo container came around again. As he kept the boat in a holding pattern, the center of the lake surged toward the incredible hole in the dam. He began to get a look at the giant rooster tails of water shooting up at the edges as it coursed through what was left of the concrete structure.

  “Come on, come on!” he yelled at the barge. It had spun most of the way around, but then it seemed to catch on an underwater obstacle and stop twirling. Rather than wait it out, he gripped the throttle and turned the last corner. The ladder came back in view. “There it is!”

  Ezra figured out not only was Butch unable to swim, as he’d said back when they found the johnboat, but he was terrified of the water. Other than stepping into the boat and moving to his seat, the young man hadn’t moved or let go of the sides. He hadn’t even put his backpack on again as he’d requested. “Butch, my man. Put that pack on so we can jump ship.”

  “No, you go,” Butch replied. “I’m going to live out my days holding on to this boat.”

  He made a snap decision to maneuver the boat by the ladder so he could come up next to it, rather than expect Butch to grab it and hold on. Ezra was able to guide her in well enough, and he got a small rope tied off, but the barge continued to twirl in the rapid currents of the draining lake. The closer they got to the dam, the more violent and choppy the water became. As the barge turned so the ladder was facing downstream, it created more localized waves. They made the little boat bounce and bang up against the maroon-colored steel hull.

  “Shit!” Butch yelped as he nearly fell sideways out of his seat.

  “Get on the ladder! Take your backpack!” They’d kept their rifles over their shoulders, so at least they had those, but he didn’t want to leave anything behind. Not when it was easy enough to grab the pack and climb out.

  Butch didn’t listen to all of his directions. He awkwardly lunged for the ladder, perhaps with his eyes closed. He climbed out quickly once he had his hands and feet on the ladder, but in his haste, he left the little kids’ backpack behind his seat. Ezra grabbed for it, forced to hold on tight as another series of bounces sent the boat into a steeper tilt up against the ship’s hull.

  “The hell with it,” he said, leaving the pack and jumping for the ladder.

  The johnboat got out from under him as he made the attempt, but he managed to get a hand on a rung anyway. The boat remained fastened to the ladder by the rope, but it spun sideways, away from the barge, creating a gap. Ezra’s feet drag
ged in the water, at least until he climbed another couple of rungs.

  “That’s it, babe, work with me here. I’m almost up to safety.” He prayed to his wife, sure she was watching his perilous escape with as much fear as the gallons of it already in his bloodstream.

  When he made it to the top of the ladder, Butch held out a firm hand. “I’ve got you, E-Z. Right up here.”

  He made it to the top deck, amazed at the transformation of his friend. His fear was completely gone. “Look at you. Glad to have you back.”

  Butch laughed. “Do me a favor and never ask me to ride in that little boat again. I thought we were going to die every second I was down there.”

  They looked over the edge. The olive-drab johnboat swished back and forth in the wave action. Butch’s discarded backpack remained where he’d left it. If they were desperate for it, Ezra could have gone back down the ladder, pulled the rope to bring the boat closer, and grabbed it. However, he didn’t think anything in the bag was worth risking his life again.

  And it was a risk. Ahead, the dam was close. Perhaps a mile away, at best. All the debris stuffed up against the concrete structure had been washed away with the first waves to sneak through the broken barrier. More junk arrived every second, including dozens of barge containers both empty and full, and a lake full of windblown debris was following. It all surged through the opening…

  Beyond it, the relatively calm waters of the draining lake turned into a frothy churn. The remains of a couple of highway bridges were behind the dam. The bridge pylons split the rushing current into parts and sent waves in multiple directions. As he watched, another empty barge crashed into one of the poles, washed up against it, then quickly filled with water.

  “You don’t have to ride in the little boat, but I’m not sure being on this barge will be much better,” Ezra lamented.

  Chapter 20

  Red Lodge, MT

  Grace’s wobbly emotions leveled out once she was back behind the wheel. The convoy drove on without her, but their tracks in the snow made it a snap to follow. An hour later, as they entered the small town of Red Lodge, the snow finally switched to sleet, bordering on rain. It got lighter, too, making it easy to see the giant flag flying in front of the police station.

  She cried out. “There! Finally.”

  “Hold on, I need a pic.” Asher used his watch to snap a photograph of the two-story brick building as they pulled up. “I’ll call this one ‘salvation.’”

  “We’ll see,” she said, dubious of ever finding that word while away from her parents. As they got out, she adjusted the Misha’s pistol in her front pocket. It bugged her a little to take the gun into a police station, but after dealing with a professional hitman, she’d learned to expect him to show up anywhere, even inside a well-lit, public building like the one in front of her.

  “I’ll be glad to get warm,” Asher remarked.

  “Amen,” she replied. “And I’m going to use their phone, too.” She’d been thinking about how to get in touch with her mom and dad ever since Misha took her phone away. Her plan was to use her authority as a ranger to ask the police in Montana to call the police in Kentucky.

  She walked in the front door expecting a stereotypical big city police station, since Red Lodge appeared to be a large town of thousands. To her surprise, despite the exterior of the building being quite large, the almost-vacant police bullpen wasn’t much larger than the park police office back at Mammoth Hot Springs.

  “Hello?” she called out.

  A pair of officers sat near the back, manning phones. One held up a finger; the universal symbol for “hang on a second”.

  She leaned close to Asher. “Do you think the convoy is somewhere around here? I figured they’d stop at the first sign of civilization, so why didn’t we see them?” While it was easy to follow her people on the remote road down the mountain, the number of tire tracks spiked when they reached the town limits. They’d lost their trail of breadcrumbs.

  He shrugged, looking around. “Maybe they saw something here they didn’t like, or maybe they pushed on to Billings, as you were going to do?”

  “Yeah, I hope so. I’d really like to know they made it to safety.”

  They stood in a black puddle in front of the patrol desk. The snow on her boots melted and added to the flooded mess. She sloshed it around, wondering how much soot was in the air outside, but she glanced up when a man coughed to get her attention. “What can I do for you, Rangers?”

  The officer wore a black tactical vest over his black uniform shirt. He was older, about the same age as her dad, and he had a salt-and-pepper beard and mustache. As with most men and women in law enforcement she’d known, the guy had inquisitive eyes, especially when he saw the thick black belts around their waists. Asher’s police-issue Glock was still strapped on him.

  She took a breath. There were a million things he could do for them, but she needed to focus on the most important ones. “Did you see a group of cars drive through here? We were leading them out of the park, over Beartooth Pass.”

  “Really?” he said with surprise. “We thought the pass was closed. Who would be crazy enough to go over the top with all this snow?”

  She chuckled, knowing precisely how insane it was. “It wasn’t snowing when we started up the other side. It was a lot snowier coming down. Actually, I wish the pass could be closed. Lots of cars slipped off the road and fell hundreds of feet to the bottom. People died.”

  He whistled through his teeth as if shocked. “We don’t have any authority to close it from the other direction, but we’ll try to get someone to shut the gates on this side.”

  “I thought about that, but there are still cars on the mountain, trying to get down. You can’t block it until everyone gets clear.”

  The officer shrugged his shoulders. “Then what can I do?”

  “Did you see our friends? They had to come through here.”

  “Yeah, I saw ’em. A bunch of cars went through here not long ago. Got a couple of calls from my residents telling me to keep them from stopping.”

  Asher tapped the desktop. “And did you?”

  The officer shook his head. “Saw no reason to. They kept on going, anyway.”

  She wondered what would drive his community to complain about a few cars passing through, but she was content to know the convoy was still out there.

  “Do you know what’s happening with the weather? Are other towns still up and running? We came through Cooke City and it was abandoned. It was a total ghost town.”

  “Weather is what it is, I’m afraid. We listen to the National Weather Service same as everyone else. They aren’t giving any specifics for this part of the world right now. In fact, to your other point, I don’t know what’s happening anywhere but here. Billings was on the radio a few hours ago, claiming to be a FEMAST, but they’ve gone silent. Could be the storm.”

  “A what?” she and Asher replied at the same time.

  “FEMAST is some kind of FEMA designation. It means Billings is a Safe Town. The government should be shipping in water, blankets, medical supplies.”

  “That’s awesome.” Billings was her original destination. It was the biggest city in southern Montana, and it would provide a good starting point for wherever they needed to go next. “How far is Billings from here?” she asked.

  “Fifty-five miles,” he said dryly.

  Her final question was the one she most wanted to ask. “I need to get a hold of my parents in Kentucky. Let them know I’m all right. The problem is someone stole my phone.”

  She waited a few seconds to see if the officer would jump at the suggestion of theft, but he merely continued his attentive listening.

  “As a professional courtesy, I figured you could call one of your sister police stations in Kentucky, and they could maybe run a car out to them.” She knew her dad had called her on a different number; he and her mom said they’d be on the road to Yellowstone, but she assumed they wouldn’t leave until things settled d
own. The only way to get a message to him before they left home was to send the police there. It was a bit selfish, she admitted, but she’d done her part for society the past couple of days. A little personal use of public services shouldn’t be out of the question.

  “I’d love to help you, but we’re really short-staffed. You’re welcome to use our phone, but you’d have to look up the numbers of the stations in Kentucky yourself. I can tell you from experience, though, it’s unlikely any officer is going to hop in his cruiser to check on your parents. With all the weird weather and loss of life, I’d be surprised if police are even operating in some areas.”

  Asher tapped the counter again, as if to get the officer’s attention. “If you don’t mind, I’d like to make a call, too.”

  “Knock yourself out, Ranger. Glad to help.” He pulled a cordless phone from a nearby desk and set it in front of them.

  Asher picked it up. “Mind if I go first?” He winked at her. “My watch phone doesn’t have a signal for some reason. I’d like to try with this. Besides, I know my sister’s number.”

  She resigned herself to going second. It gave her time to think of the towns closest to where her parents lived. Fairdealing was around the corner from her house, but it was so tiny it was hardly big enough to be called a town. One of the county firehouses was there, however, so it was a possibility. She’d visited it numerous times on class field trips. If no one answered at the station, the town of Benton was the next closest.

  He nudged her on the shoulder as he listened. “It’s going to her voicemail. I guess she’s busy.” After a pause, he continued talking in the handset. “Hi, sis, it’s me. I’m alive. I made it, thanks to my new best friend, Grace. We’re in this little town, Red Lodge, Montana. Another hour and we’ll be in Billings, which is where we’re planning to stay tonight. Once I get there, I’ll try you again. Hope you’re okay. Will talk to you soon. Bye.”