Crush: Impact Book 4: (A Post-Apocalyptic Survival Thriller Series)
Page 11
“Yes and no,” Asher replied after checking out the surrounding buildings. “It probably rolled close to it, but the broken girders and fallen walls on the other side were destroyed by flying debris, not the rock itself.”
“But we’re getting close?” she continued.
“The people we passed on the path said the rock was in Lodo. That’s on the other side of the stadium. I’d say we’re as good as there.”
They walked underneath roadway bridges built to cross the tracks, which shielded them from the lines of trucks parked around them. There were still gunshots booming from various directions of the city, but none close to them. She’d hoped they’d dodged the worst of it, but when they passed by a bridge pylon a pair of dark-clad people were waiting for them, guns drawn.
“Keep on walking!” a man shouted. He pointed a black shotgun at them.
The three of them put their hands up. “We’re with the park service,” she lamely responded.
Everyone likes park rangers.
The man spoke at a more reasonable volume. “Park rangers? What in God’s name are you doing down here?”
“You mean under this bridge?” she asked, finally getting a good look at the police officer.
He lowered his shotgun. A female officer sitting next to him had also drawn a pistol, which she held low as well. A third person was sprawled on the ground beyond her, though it was impossible to determine if it was a man or woman due to the heavy riot gear they all wore.
The man chuckled. “No, not under this bridge. What are you doing in the city? Don’t you know the whole state of Colorado has converged here for a scavenger hunt?”
Asher took a step forward. “You’re talking about the asteroid remains. We’re trying to find it.”
The officer seemed to raise his shotgun back up. “Are you with the rest of them? Are you trying to get a piece for yourself?”
“No,” he reassured the man. “We want to find TKM’s head guy. He’s the one responsible for all this destruction. We believe he’s here overseeing things.”
The tired cop put his shotgun against the concrete. “You’re probably right. We’ve had a good relationship with TKM for the past several days, but the situation is now totally out of hand. We got paid a ton of money to protect the mining effort, but there was no way to prevent all the prospectors from going in. You saw all the trucks?”
Everyone looked straight up. The trucks stood sentinel on the bridge above them.
“Yes, we saw them crowding the highways to the north of here. There were thousands of vehicles. We had to drive on the bike path to avoid those roads.”
The man seemed to think on it. “I’m surprised you got through. I mean, I didn’t think there was enough room for a motorized vehicle to fit on a bike route.”
The woman officer leaned forward. “That was a smart play. We might need to use the path to get out of here.”
Shawn coughed gently to insert himself into the conversation. “I’m Shawn Runs Hard, chairman of the Crow Nation. My son is back there in a railroad repair yard. He’s helping a mechanic fix a train. If you and your weapons wouldn’t mind, perhaps you could help them get the engine ready, then provide some security for him until we get back. Then we can all leave this scavenger hunt, as you called it.”
Grace was impressed. It was the perfect solution to everyone’s problems. Except maybe hers. She would have rather they followed her to TKM, but they barely seemed able to stand up.
The first officer held up his shotgun, though only so they could see it. “I appreciate the invite. Perhaps we’ll check it out and see where the train’s going. So you don’t get your hopes up, we’re almost out of ammo. We use these weapons mostly as deterrents.”
She saw the opportunity. “That’s fine. If you go help them with the train, you’ll at least have cover while you wait. Plus, I’m not sure how people on the bike trail would respond to you if you went their way. We passed tent cities, roadblocks, and hundreds of bike riders. Guns were everywhere. You might be safer getting out of the city with us.”
The man glanced over to his female companion. She’d taken off the face-mask helmet; her sweaty blonde hair was matted to her forehead. She still breathed in and out like she’d been on the run for days. In fact, she started her reply with a long inhale. “I guess we can give it a try. I’m not sure how much farther we can go on foot.”
“Mikey, what do you think?” The woman nudged her partner on the ground.
The man spoke into his sleeve, which he’d used as a pillow. “Hmm? I’ll do whatever you guys do.”
The woman nodded to the first man, who then looked at Grace. “We’re in.”
He stood up straight and offered a grimy hand. “I’m Officer Weller. This is Officer Lamke. The lazy one is Officer Faust.”
She introduced her people while shaking his hand, but he didn’t let go when she’d finished. Instead, he focused his brown eyes on her. “It’s a mistake to go downtown. You don’t have enough firepower; I can tell you that. Rumor has it there is a billion dollars’ worth of minerals lying on the ground. Some of these lowlifes will kill each other over a roll of toilet paper. What do you think they’re capable of for such a treasure?”
Grace’s stomach wanted to take refuge behind her spine, but she didn’t allow it to sway her. After all she’d been through, the prospect of facing a group of desperate miners didn’t seem like the worst option in the world. In comparison, the three officers had obviously been bested by the situation. They’d been beaten and bruised, and they’d emptied their supply of ammo. Their advice couldn’t be dismissed out of hand.
“The three of us each have reasons why we need to find the head of TKM. Since we aren’t there for the rock itself, we aren’t a threat to the miners. We’ll steer clear of them as best we can.”
“Good luck,” Weller said.
After he’d said it, but before Grace had left them, a staccato blast of rifle fire pierced the morning air, echoing madly underneath the bridge. It couldn’t have been far from them.
She waved. “Say hello to Logan for us. We’ll be back.”
“I hope you’re right,” the policeman replied.
“Me too,” she muttered.
St. Charles, MO
The wide avenue in front of the sporting goods store was nearly empty, and it was easy to see for half a mile in each direction, so they were reasonably sure the police car wasn’t around. The store itself, however, was a hot destination. The lot was half-full, but it was a large one. There were probably a hundred cars lined up, suggesting a healthy crowd on the inside.
Bass Pro was designed to look like a national park lodge from somewhere out west. It featured lots of wooden beams on the sides, a green metal roof with steep angles, and stone pillars flanking both entrances. Ezra could imagine Grace and her park rangers working inside.
Haley walked right up to the automatic doors. Liam jumped when they swung open, but his curiosity drove him inside the instant they parted the way. Ezra almost asked if she was going to leave the puggle outside, since it was probably breaking the rules, but she didn’t seem to care, so he didn’t either.
“I’ll push the cart,” the woman said in an agreeable tone. “You two get to load it up.” She swooped Liam into her arms and gently placed him inside the green plastic shopping cart. As soon as his feet touched the bottom, he stood up on his hind legs.
“Aww, he doesn’t want to be in that cart.” Butch rubbed the pup’s head.
“He’ll be fine,” Haley reassured him. “We go shopping together all the time. He likes to see where we’re going, though. That’s why he gets up.”
Ezra had kept a mental list of everything they needed. He decided to recite it in front of his friends as a way of remembering. “All right, we need a few things, so let’s figure out where to go first. We need aluminum putty and epoxy to seal the bullet holes in the pontoons. We—”
Haley got closer to him, excited. “Bullet holes? Awesome. You guys really we
re running from pirates, weren’t you?”
He and Butch shared a bemused look.
“Yes, we were,” Butch said to her, sounding proud.
Ezra went on with his list. “I’d like to grab a second gas can, so we don’t have to make as many trips. A map of the United States, if they have one, so we know where we’re going. I’ve also decided we need proper backpacks.” He leaned over, showing off his little kids’ backpack with all its pandas.
“And guns,” Butch added dramatically.
“Yeah. And guns.” Ezra looked around the store, hoping the guns hadn’t already been cleaned out. “If we can find them in this huge place.”
Bass Pro was filled with outdoor-themed décor, racks of hiking and camping gear, as well as all the clothing to go with them. Some shelves were picked clean, as if there’d been a run on certain things, but most of the store stock remained.
Far to one side, in a separate wing of the building, he saw dozens of fishing boats. It looked like the place he needed to go for boating supplies. On the way there, Haley abruptly stopped the cart . She pulled an object off a display stand. “This is what you two need.”
It was a tiny pink fishing pole.
“No! This one.” Butch picked up a small blue pole with a reel shaped like a smiling train engine.
Butch tossed it in the cart, causing Haley to yank it back out. “I was just kidding,” she snorted with laughter.
They laughed together, and Ezra was tempted to get another cart and go get what he needed, but he let them have their fun. At the same time, he studied the people inside the shop, or, more precisely, the lack of them. For all the cars outside, there were only a few customers wandering the aisles within his view. Voices carried across the store from one side, though, and he quickly figured out where the bulk of shoppers were congregated.
“All right, you two, let’s keep moving.” He purposefully guided them across the store, away from the voices, so he could load up on the things he knew they required. They quickly hit the boating section, the backpack aisle, and, after all the joking, they also grabbed a couple of fishing poles and tackle. It was smart to be able to catch your dinner. As they filled the space in the cart around little Liam, he guided them toward the last thing they needed. The source of all the voices in the store.
When they came around a rack of duck decoys, he got his first good look at the crowd.
“Oh, shit,” Haley blurted.
“It’s a miracle,” he said reverently. “They still have guns for sale. I think…”
The gun counter of the store was thirty yards long. Handguns of every make and type were inside the clear glass countertop, and long guns lined the wall behind the attendants. He’d been in such stores before. He expected to see men and women shoppers crowded along the counter, pointing to what they needed. There were some normal people standing nearby, watching, but there were only burly-looking men in front of and behind the counter. To his eyes, it didn’t look like anyone was buying guns.
They were taking them.
Denver, CO
With all the problems facing Petteri, seeing Mr. Stricker on the television gave him hope it was still possible to save a quickly spiraling situation. Dorothy had come through for him and convinced the government functionary it was in their best interest to support TKM, and the broadcast was supposed to seal the deal. Still, his stomach swam with emotion as he anticipated what Stricker would say.
Stricker stood behind a podium with the eagle-crested seal of the United States Department of Homeland Security. After taking five minutes to thank first responders, governors, and congresspeople, as was required of public officials, he got to the meat of his talk. “My fellow Americans, we’ve been subject to a highly charged disaster over the last several days. At first, the scope was unknown, the extent of the damage, a mystery. But today, we have a handle on every major impact point of the asteroid Tuonela, with the exception of Kansas City. We’re still trying to get teams into the region, though local authorities are reporting it’s bad.”
He coughed to clear his throat. “These unprecedented disasters have required new solutions to old problems. Crime and lawlessness are rampant in the states affected by the falling debris, and the United States government has an obligation to assist state and local law enforcement efforts. To that end, we are enacting martial law across twenty-two states and we are creating a strict ban on all firearms outside your home. If you have guns, we want you to be able to defend yourself in your house. If you bring them outside the home, we will assume you are a criminal. Your firearms will be confiscated without the possibility of return.”
Stricker looked off camera, then back. “This is not an infringement on your right to bear arms. This is an infringement of criminals’ ability to attack you while you conduct your business. Once we’re safe again, the rules will be lifted.” He read off some legal text which he believed supported his department’s efforts, though Petteri wasn’t paying much attention. He only tuned in when the expected second part was mentioned.
“The other effort we must enact is a ban on civil communications using broadcast mediums such as radio or television. All programming must be cleared through a government censor, and all live programming will be supervised by a representative of the US government. This will enable the federal response to be coordinated down to the local level. As with the firearm rules, this will be lifted once we have peace and calm again.”
After a few more legal examples, he tapped his desk. “Do not let fear rule you or your loved ones. Let officials of the government clean up the fallen asteroid pieces across America, and we can then return things to how they were only a week ago. Tikkanen Kinetic Mining has generously offered to hire qualified, dignified, and professional law enforcement contractors to help keep the peace in the areas most affected. If you see a TKM truck in your area, please do not disturb them. Allow them to do their job, and, I might suggest, be sure to provide them with any resources they request. They will provide you with a receipt, which I assure you will be honored for reimbursement when this is over.”
He stared earnestly into the lens. “God bless you and God bless the United States of America.”
“Outstanding!” Petteri crowed.
Chapter 15
Denver, CO
Grace and her companions walked the tracks all the way to the end of the line, which was less than a mile from the railroad repair building where they’d left Logan.
“That’s Union Station,” Asher advised. “Light rail goes out of there.”
“It’s a mess,” Shawn commented.
The building sat behind one corner of the baseball stadium, but it was closer to the path of destruction created by the falling piece of asteroid. Many of the rails were twisted and warped, and several of the passenger carriages had been tossed on their sides or thrown off the tracks completely. A furrow of damage continued into a nearby grouping of five- and ten-story buildings. But the most distinctive feature of the lower downtown district wasn’t the architecture; it was the people.
“I think we found everyone,” Grace said with displeasure.
Construction equipment and trucks were crammed onto every street visible from their location. Tractors, cranes, and dump trucks had been parked everywhere, including near Union Station. There might have been parking room for more on the tracks themselves, but the gridlock was so intense, there was no way for new arrivals to get there.
A tall building stood along the edge of the tracks, providing a first glimpse of what they might expect deeper inside the buildings where the rock would be found. It had once been wrapped with glass windows, but now almost all the glass on the three sides closest to the furrow were gone. It left a ten-story grid of windowless offices exposed to the elements. She pointed to the top. “That’s where we’re going first.”
“Take the high ground,” Shawn said with agreement in his voice.
“Yeah. Before we get into those trucks, I want to know what we’re going to find
. Maybe we’ll even figure out where the TKM honcho is set up.”
Asher took a picture with his expensive watch.
“Sightseeing?” she asked with mirth.
“Something like that. I’m recording this part of our journey in case someone tries to paint us as terrorists or rabble-rousers, like they did when we recorded our, uh, meme-friendly message to the tourists in Yellowstone. I want everyone to know we’re doing this for them, not ourselves.”
“I’ll vouch for you,” the Crow chairman added. “And if they don’t believe me, they’ll have this to contend with.” He tapped the strap of his rifle, hung over his shoulder.
Asher and Shawn faced each other. “Thank you,” Asher replied.
She took a few steps in the loose rocks of the railroad grade. “Take all the pictures you want. In fact, email them to me so I can show my mom and…I mean, just my dad.” She kept walking, hoping to gloss over the mistake.
At the street next to the target building, the trucks were parked within inches of each other, inconveniently leaving as little room as possible. She needed to hop up on fenders a couple of times to get across. Grace looked through the windshield of a commercial pickup truck as she walked along its front bumper. No one was inside, nor was anyone in the other nearby vehicles.
After clearing the final truck, she almost slid on the six inches of broken glass spread across the sidewalk.
Asher almost went down too, but he caught himself on the side of a truck. “This is worse than ice.” The last time he slid, it was on ice, and she caught him in her arms for a pleasant rendezvous. This time, falling would probably result in bloody hands and elbows, so she didn’t joke around.
A couple of gunshot echoes bounced off the nearby buildings. They sounded close.
“Quick! Get inside.” She stumbled across the glass and went through the skeletal front doors. Shawn and Asher each made their way across the shards. Asher lunged for the metal support of the door, saving himself from another slip.