“Where are you going?” Butch asked before he could start it up.
“To put this away. Want to go with me up to the county road? I’m going to see if anyone can help Babs, uh, Brenda.”
“Don’t sweat it. I used some of my super-Army skills and cinched her arm in a sling. Then, on my way up here, I found some other residents and told them where she is. It should buy us some time until we can find legit help for her.”
She was probably turning the unsuspecting neighbors against him at that moment. He imagined her babbling about how he’d broken her arm during the rescue.
“Right, smart thinking. Help is only going to come from Fairdealing, a small town up the hill and around the corner. Plus, maybe some of the cars are working up yonder.” The cars and trucks of the neighborhood had been tossed over or destroyed by flying debris, but it couldn’t be like that everywhere. Eventually, he needed to find a working model so he could leave; the only thing that would keep him from thinking of Susan was his trip to see Grace.
Butch slapped his hat back on and picked up his rifle. “I’ll meet you up there.”
When he and Butch met at the top of the street, he noted the weird weather. While rays of sunshine poked out of the clouds to the south, it still rained heavily on the far shore of the lake. Lightning flashes sent claps of thunder over the unnaturally calm waters. Paducah still churned out black soot, like heavy factories spit pollution into the sky. Even the intense rains hadn’t put out all the fires there.
The dead traffic jam made the gloomy atmosphere seem worse. As they walked along the line of traffic, each gruesome detail stood out. The broken glass. The weird positions of cars, which had been shifted by the wind. The dead bodies inside a few of them.
Butch whistled in awe. “It looks like the highway of death.”
“Is that from the war in Afghanistan?” he asked, thinking it sounded like it.
“From the Gulf War against Iraq. The Iraqi forces tried to get out of Kuwait, but allied forces ripped ’em a new one. It was a four-mile-long turkey shoot along a flat, wide-open, desert highway. Burnt-out cars, trucks, and tanks were lined up, just like you see here—minus the tanks, of course.”
He shrugged and walked alongside the nearest car. “Let’s head toward town and see if anyone is left alive. There won’t be any ambulance service, though. We’d need a wrecker to clear out one of these lanes.” He already saw where he was going; “town” was less than a mile away.
The town of Fairdealing wasn’t even big enough to rate a stop sign, much less a stoplight. Four or five little buildings sat together along the country road. On one side, the red brick volunteer fire department building butted up against the wooden Baptist church. On the other side, a combination gas station and bait shop sat almost below the area’s water tower. The line of abandoned cars filed through what was left of the structures.
The church’s steeple was gone, as were the windows, leaving most of the rest of it intact. The fire station was also missing some windows, but the bricks appeared unharmed. The hundred-foot-tall water tower looked the same as it always did, but the mom-and-pop gas station building had almost entirely blown away. Three of the four fuel islands were still there, though the pumps themselves were bent over, as if debris had struck them.
“Let’s see if anyone knows what’s going on.” Ezra pointed to the fire station. Naturally, in any emergency situation, he expected people to go there, and even from a hundred yards away, he noticed the movement inside one of the opened garage doors. He started walking, then Butch grabbed his arm.
“Hey, it’s Army-skills time. We can’t walk in there like a couple of lost kids.” He spoke lower. “Not while we’ve got weapons…”
Ezra found it hard to believe what he’d heard. “Are you saying I should use my gun?”
Butch waved him off. “No, of course not. That’s not how I roll. What I’m saying is firepower will either cause people to freak out or chill out. It’s hard to know which. I saw this all the time over in those Afghani villages. They were poor people without a pot to piss in, but when they saw Americans, they wouldn’t give you a lick of respect unless you had a rifle. If you show weakness, you become prey, even if they pretended to like you the day before.”
Ezra slowly shook his head. “They probably gave you respect because you are about a hundred feet tall. I can’t imagine anyone not giving you a wide berth.”
“The AK-47 is the great equalizer over there. Doesn’t matter how big you are.”
“Same here,” he replied, catching on. “But it can’t be like that already. This is a national emergency, sure, but we’ve learned a few things since Hurricane Katrina. People aren’t going to be predatory. We’re from Kentucky, not like those people you saw in Baghdad.”
“That’s in Iraq,” Butch said dryly.
“What?”
“Baghdad is in the wrong country. You might have said Kandahar, Afghanistan. I’ve had the misfortune of having been there.” He smiled, which made Ezra relax. The young man still reminded him of Grace; they were approximately the same age. Their generation surprised him endlessly with how fast they moved from thought to thought without the emotional baggage he seemed to haul.
He pulled the Bushmaster off his shoulder and held it low in his arms. Were they really going to walk in like they owned the place? Was it already necessary to not show weakness? How could the young kid possibly know such things?
Ezra wasn’t an expert on prepping, but he couldn’t avoid picking up some of the basics while gathering his now-burned supplies over the past few years. He’d planned for social unrest, natural disasters, and everything in between. Would the world really be in such a bad state, like Butch thought? The devastation was terrible around Paducah…it couldn’t be so bad everywhere else. Finding out what was beyond his part of Kentucky as soon as possible was critical to his long-term survival, and, by extension, the survival of Grace.
He shifted his rifle, so the sling held it on his shoulder, while allowing him to angle it forward. After testing his ability to point the weapon in various directions, he let it fall a bit, so it wasn’t quite as threatening.
“Let’s get some answers.”
Chapter 4
Yellowstone National Park, WY
Grace stepped out of the front door feeling like she was the lead ranger for the entire National Park system. The police station had a little bit of everything, including clean uniforms. She’d replaced her filthy tan top with a new one, though she was careful to transfer her original NPS badge. It was tempting to take one of the law-enforcement wide-brimmed hats, except she preferred her lighter straw hat, despite the missing chunk. It was a reminder of what she’d been through.
“You guys ready?” She looked back to Tessa and Asher, stifling laughter. She couldn’t imagine a more awkward pair of rangers. The older woman worked as a civilian employee of the park service, but she wasn’t forward-facing, as they said in the biz. Her gruff demeanor and unkempt salt-and-pepper hair wouldn’t impress tourists at a campfire talk. She had to be coaxed into wearing the formal green and tan uniform. And Asher wasn’t any better. He tugged at his collar and constantly adjusted his big hat.
“You want me to take your picture?” she taunted, knowing how much he was cataloging his away-from-the-city adventure.
“No!” Asher chuckled. “I feel like I’m in a Halloween costume. How do you get used to looking like this?” He patted the park police model big black utility belt around his waist; it was outfitted with bear spray, a flashlight, a pouch for a Leatherman knife/pliers combo, and a Glock 22 with a spare fifteen-round mag of .40 caliber ammo.
She laughed, admiring the belt and gun on her hip, too. She kept Misha’s pistol in her front pocket, giving her two options if it was necessary to fight back. “Trust me, once you get out there and help some people, you’ll figure out that though you may look ridiculous, you’ll—” she cracked up and slapped her thigh. “I’m sorry! I can’t lie. You’re rocking the unif
orm. Please let me take your picture.” She reached for his wristwatch, reveling in the sarcasm.
“This was a practical joke, wasn’t it?” Asher asked dryly, half-turning to go back inside.
She caught him. “No! I’m sorry. I’m just having a little fun with you. God knows we need it. You look really good, actually. You clean up…” Grace didn’t want it to sound too personal, especially in front of Tessa. “Okay.”
Despite her restraint, it set off the older woman. “Sheesh. Get a room.”
Grace straightened up, at first embarrassed, then accepted she’d let herself get distracted. She centered herself by remembering the people milling about outside needed guidance. “Right. Let’s get in my truck and drive on the sidewalk to the junction over there. We’ll get everyone straightened out so they can follow us in their cars.”
It took an hour to get some semblance of a convoy together. Most people had been waiting at the visitors' center for guidance on where to go, and they also needed to get those tourists who’d gone off to the hot springs. Some visitors didn’t let broken boardwalks, a nearby forest fire, dead bodies, and multiple impacts of space debris mess up their vacation. After walking around the area, she figured out there were new water features and hot springs coming to life, probably created as a result of the earthquake-like rumbling the previous night. Getting there first, and sharing the videos with the world, drove some people to take risks.
It was tedious, tiring, and thankless to get all those tourists back to their cars. True to form, some complained she was illegally trying to cut their vacation short. When she pointed to some new fires burning the fallen trees on the ridgeline above them, they started for their cars, though even the smell of smoke didn’t prevent them from taking photographs on the way out.
It had only been light a few hours, but she was exhausted when she finally returned to her beat-up Chevy at the head of the messy line of cars. Tessa and Asher were already there, having assembled those closer to the visitors’ center, and there was a third ranger she recognized from the day before.
Asher introduced him. “This is Chester. He’s from the—”
“Visitors’ center,” Grace finished for him. “I remember you from inside.”
If Tessa was old enough to be her mother, Chester was old enough to be her grandpa. His hair was all white, as was his short beard. Like most park rangers of that generation, his face was gaunt, like he hadn’t eaten for a month and his eyes were distant, like he hadn’t slept for a week. It wasn’t necessarily an unhealthy look, more like he’d seen a few things too many. She figured it was a side effect of being around all the demanding tourists. They sucked away happiness like vampires.
“Hi,” he said while giving her a penetrating glare. “You’re the one who discharged bear spray in my visitors’ center, right?”
She gulped. “I’m so sorry, there was someone—”
Chester held up his hand. “Don’t care. Water under the bridge. You’re doing a positive thing right now, and for that I’m grateful. I’ve kept these people from eating each other, but if you don’t get them moving, the bear spray debacle is going to be a nothing burger on your buffet of disappointment.”
At first, Grace hovered there, thinking Chester was going to take over, surprised he acted indifferent to the situation. She looked around, suddenly aware of the faces on drivers inside the many cars spread out behind her. They weren’t happy to be kept waiting; one man raised his arms as if to say, “well, are we moving?”
Any of the cars near the front could have driven around her truck and been on their way, but they were waiting for her to lead them. That responsibility sank in, and her heart raced ahead of the rest of her body. They were counting on her, the big, important park ranger, to get them to safety.
Grace wanted to talk to her parents, if only for a few seconds. She needed to confirm her plans with someone who knew what they were doing. Her dad always seemed to know what to do, no matter the situation. He’d tell her she was on the right path or playing an incredibly dangerous game with the lives of others.
The plumes of smoke from the fires to the south kept growing larger. Maybe the decision was easy, given the impending threats. She had no way to know what was around the next curve in the road. Were there more fires? Unruly bison herds? New, dangerous hot springs under the thin surface?
She fought the rising panic in her belly and tried to stay professional. Without the ability to call for backup, she had to do what she’d suggested to Asher not long ago.
Time to fake it.
Kentucky
Ezra went into the firehouse through the open garage door. Although there were no vehicles inside the four bays, he expected to find a fire chief or other boss in charge of the facility. As much as he appreciated Butch’s perspective, he wanted to prove the kid wrong. Having a rifle couldn’t be the measure of authority. Not yet.
The garage doors were pulled up to the roof, and they still had glass in their small windows, meaning they must have been up when the blast hit. The rest of the firehouse was like everywhere else in the area. All the window glass was gone. Still, people sat on the ground and along the walls. They’d gathered most of the shards into small piles near the front doors.
Some of the men stood up and came over to them. “You here to take more of our stuff? We’ve got nothing to give.” The middle-aged man was dressed in a colorful set of swimming trunks and a white T-shirt. Ezra didn’t recognize him, but he could have been a neighbor out for a day on the lake. The man’s eyes weren’t on his, but on his rifle.
He thought about slinging the weapon over his back, and he even glanced over to Butch to see if he thought the same thing, noting his partner kept his where it was. “No. I live a mile from here. I’m looking for someone who knows what’s going on out there.” He pointed out the garage doors.
“That’s a good thing.” The man sighed with relief and gave a nod to his cohorts. The men fell back into the crowd, and Ezra got the distinct impression they’d been closer to a fight than he thought. “The first two crooks didn’t look like you two. They weren’t locals, that’s for sure. Came on four-wheelers pretending to need help until they whipped out guns when they got inside here. They demanded all of our water bottles. We gave it to them because we’re right under the freaking water tower; they could have taken all they wanted. But we’ve wised up since last night. Today, we’re wary of strangers.”
Ezra took a chance asking a sensitive question. “Can you defend yourselves?”
The man smiled. “Oh, we have lots of guns. This is Kentucky, am I right?”
He grinned back. Living in the country made it natural for him to own and carry guns, though he seldom took his pistol out of its normal hiding spot under the front seat of his truck. And if their positions were reversed, with Ezra sitting on the floor of the garage, he’d have his pistol at the ready for anyone who came in. He imagined he was now surrounded by guns, intended to keep him honest.
The man went on. “Last night, none of us wanted to take a life over water, but it turns out those guys did us a favor. They opened our eyes to how fast people change under high stress. We’ve scared off a few sketchy-looking men since then.”
Ezra let his guard drop a bit, so as to not appear as confrontational. “Glad we’re not sketchy-looking. It sounds like you have things in hand here. All we’d like from you is information. Do you know the situation?”
“We’ve heard from people passing by how Paducah was flattened. Something else came down last night across the water, over in the Land Between the Lakes recreation area. The most popular theory is that they were meteorites, but I’ve heard people say it was aliens landing their ships, getting ready for an invasion.”
He cracked up. “It’s not aliens. Trust me. This was the world’s worst industrial accident. You’ve heard of a mining company called TKM?”
The man nodded. “Who hasn’t?”
“They did this. I know someone on the inside.” He thought of Gr
ace feeding him the information that saved so many lives last night.
“I guess I have to believe you. This is the first I’ve heard of it. I’ll be sure to add your theory to the list.” The guy smiled to be polite, clear he didn’t fully believe the explanation. “Hey, do you know where we can get any food?” The man gestured to the people around him. “We’ve got kids who are going to need to eat. We already picked the firehouse clean, though there wasn’t much.”
That brought him back to another reason why he was there. “Did you see the firefighters? We could use medical help back down the road.” Babs still needed assistance for her arm, as did many of his neighbors. It was clear they weren’t in the firehouse, but he had to know if they were close.
“No. The place was empty when I got here. Our guess is they left yesterday morning to go help in Paducah, but no one knows for sure. And the radio is trashed; we checked.”
The big picture was still murky, but he now had a better understanding of the local scene. It made complete sense the more he thought about it. All emergency services vehicles would have rushed out to help save people in and around Paducah. They probably passed the start of the line of refugees heading in the opposite direction. Later, with traffic petrified on the county roads, they couldn’t get back to the station. When the second impact happened, they were far from where they could do any good.
He wasn’t yet ready to give up, so Ezra turned and looked outside the firehouse. There was one easy way to see what was happening beyond his neighborhood.
“We’re going up.”
Isla Socorro
Impact Series Box Set | Books 1-6 Page 23