“I bet it’s because you want to know if those two runaways might have survived.” She flashed her white teeth for a moment before turning serious. “Why are they such a worry to you? I mean, it’s like you have a billion dollars in the bank, but you’re searching for a two-dollar bill blowing around out there.”
She wasn’t wrong. It wasn’t absolutely essential to eliminate Asher Creighton, but he’d gotten where he was by being thorough. As much as he wanted to consider them dead and gone, he needed to be sure. He’d already sent two extra teams; what could it hurt to triple-check?
“I’m a very generous man.” He pointed to the cargo hold, where TKM pickup trucks sat next to big pallets of rice currently being ogled by the reporters. “Willing to help my fellow Americans survive. However, there are people out there who would make me out to be a villain, say slanderous things about me. Mr. Creighton has already shown he was willing to go on video trying to discredit me. I’m afraid he’ll try to do it again.”
“Well, I didn’t bring my swimsuit, so there isn’t anything keeping me on this island. Unless you want me to spy on someone else, am I finally cool to go up this ramp?”
He stood up straight and waved her on, aiming to cut an imposing figure for the young woman. “I like to have one hand checking the other, you know? It’s the only reason why I’m asking you to double-check Howard’s man Misha.”
Internally, he cackled like a supervillain at the obvious threat, but strangely, Dorothy laughed with as much drama. “I’m sure you have people checking me, too,” she said glibly, “but I don’t mind. I do top-notch work. You and I can both take that to the bank.”
As he watched her go up the ramp, he wasn’t sure if he liked or disliked the spunky woman. Perhaps he’d decide after he could definitively stop worrying about Mr. Creighton.
Chapter 15
Beartooth Pass, WY
“I know you said I have a way of surviving the worst, but maybe this is the time my luck runs out. Don’t you think it would be better for you to get out and walk to the road? It’d be a lot safer.” Grace had the ropes on the tires, but wanted to give Asher a chance to bail out before she tried to move the truck. A short slide and a thousand-foot doozy of a first step were the price of failure.
“I’m staying, but I’m not watching,” he declared. “I won’t even take any pictures. We’re in this together, so, please, get this over with before I come to my senses.” Her friend seemed fascinated by the heating vents, as if staring at them would make all the other problems go away.
“All right. No more talk.” Grace touched the gas and the truck gave a satisfying lurch. She went forward a foot or two, then backed up. With both movements, the rear quarter panel rubbed against the other car. “Sorry!” she yelled out the window.
Her intention had been to see if the two cars in the ruts would slide by if she moved, but they appeared firm on their rope tires, too. Finally, convinced the beat-up Chevy would stick to the ground, she angled the truck away from the ruts and started up the snowy hillside. On the way to the top, she passed about ten other vehicles facing in various directions; they were the lucky ones who’d managed to stop their slides before getting down to her truck.
A few yards before reaching the road, the truck jerked to the side as she dipped into the tire ruts again, but she turned into the slide and powered through. “Wow,” she exclaimed when she was back on safe terrain. “I never want to try that again.”
“No kidding,” Asher replied, looking outside into the light show. The thunder had nearly disappeared, but the lightning kept dancing high in the clouds. It created an eerie strobe effect above their location. “I never want to do any of this again.”
The other cars soon came up the gentle slope, although one front-wheel drive car had to be left where it was low on the slope. Even the ropes couldn’t help it get free of the hill, and she didn’t want to spend any additional time gathering people to help push or pull the car up. The snow continued to come down in heavy sheets; their tracks in the original six inches of precipitation were already filled in by the time she returned to the roadway.
“We go this way,” she advised, pointing to the right fork. Her stomach was unsettled about what she’d find at the bottom of the ravine, should she ever go down there. How many cars had already slid off the cliff? Those ruts were caused by someone. And worse, if she hadn’t stopped her own slide, how many of her people would be down there? The thoughts stuck with her as she drove on the paved road, hands at ten and two on the wheel, diligently studying every guide pole on the way.
The correct road started down the far side of the pass, getting a little steeper with each minute, but the ropes around her tires did their job and kept her on the state highway. Her intense focus broke only when two distinctive shapes appeared out of the darkness. A pair of people sat up against a guard rail on the right side of the road. She tapped the brakes and stopped. “Asher, there! See if they need help.”
Asher pushed open his cranky door and hobbled through the snow. She grew concerned when the pair didn’t hop up in excitement as he approached, and her worst fears were confirmed when he slowly walked back. “They’re dead,” he said dryly as he climbed in. “Frozen stiff.”
The temperature indicator on the dashboard said it was twenty-five degrees out. How long did those people sit there in the frigid temps? Or, maybe they froze after they died. Could they have been struck by all the lightning? They sat along a huge metal rail…
She had a further dark thought. “Did I make a mistake coming up here? What if all those people who sped ahead of us went over that cliff?” Grace studied the road ahead to see if there was any evidence of tire tracks, but the blustery winds and dense falling snow made it impossible to tell.
Asher slowly pulled and then buckled his seat belt. “Don’t panic. We’re up here now. Just get off this mountain, Grace. As fast as possible.”
His calming tone helped beat down her lurking panic. When the road hit a flat section, she tried going faster and slower to test how fast the truck could safely go. When she gave it too much gas, the ropes seemed to lose their grip, causing her to slide. “This is our top speed,” she commented, satisfied she’d found the limits, “as long as we’re going in a straight line.”
Unfortunately, the road didn’t go in a straight line down into a valley. It meandered along a ridgeline for several miles before they arrived at a warning sign explaining it was about to get much steeper. She read it with a mechanical voice, “Dangerous curves ahead. Closed in winter.”
Asher laughed. “You were saying about a straight line?” He spoke sarcastically. “If this is summertime, I’d hate to be here when it freezes and snows.”
“Yeah, we sure got lucky,” Grace snarked. She handled the truck around a switchback, then the view out Asher’s window seemed to drop off into an abyss. The left side was the mountain above them, but the right side was nothing. Minutes later, after inching along for a quarter of a mile, the narrow two-lane road turned left at what looked like a scenic turnoff. The view would probably be spectacular if they could see more than a hundred feet.
“I think some cars did make it this far down the mountain,” he said with sadness. “But this was their end. They went right through that railing.” He pointed to the small turnoff. If a car missed the left turn, they would go straight through the overlook. The railing at the tourist area was designed to keep people from getting too close to the edge. The planners probably didn’t imagine cars would slam into it.
She rolled along the tight leftward curve, letting her ropes grip the snowpack. The rest of the convoy followed at the same slow speed, keeping them from the dangerous ledge. She stopped checking back there when she saw the flashing lights of Tessa’s truck; it meant her whole convoy had safely navigated the turn.
A short time later, her lights picked up three people walking in the middle of the road ahead. Their feet created small postholes and drag lines barely visible in the stifling snowfall. All th
ree jumped and waved when she pulled up.
It was a man, a woman, and a young boy or girl; it was hard to say since the kid was bundled up in an adult-sized winter coat. She positioned the truck as far as possible from the guard rail along the edge, so the trio had to stand outside Asher’s window. He waved at them as they came closer.
“We need help,” the man gushed. “Our car went over the side.”
“Did you all get out?” Asher asked in a clinical fashion.
“Uh, yes. My brakes wouldn’t slow us down at all. Thanks to all the lightning, I knew we were along the edge of the valley, so we’d been ready to jump. Fortunately, we all made it.”
The youngster faced Asher. “Suzie Q didn’t!”
The mother and father looked at each other before the man spoke in a reserved voice. “Sorry, our daughter’s little teddy bear was our only casualty.”
Grace saw herself in the little girl. Even the name Suzie reminded her of home; her dad’s nickname for her mom was Suze. She was impressed at how the family had survived.
“I’m so glad you’re safe. You’re the second group we’ve seen jump out like that.”
“Suzie Q isn’t safe! We have to find her!” the girl shouted through her cinched hood.
“We will, dear,” the mom replied.
The man stepped closer to the gaping hole where the back door of the Suburban used to be. Grace looked back, noting how the rear seat was soaked and stained with blowing snow that had come inside. “Do you mind if we hitch a ride?” The way he spoke with reluctance suggested the guy saw the mess, too.
She knew what he was thinking; would it be safer to keep walking or to get inside the banged-up truck? “Please go back to one of the other vehicles. They’ll have windows, heat, and a working door. My partner and I are barely staying warm in the front seat.”
“You two are rangers. We’d like to stay with the authorities.”
Grace smiled. “Don’t worry. We’ve come through some tight spots on this drive. We’re all in this together. You’ll be fine. I’ll wait here until I see you get inside one of the cars back there.”
That was all the encouragement it took; the mother nudged her daughter to get moving, and they all went back a car or two. The headlights cast them as silhouettes, but one of them waved as they got inside a following vehicle. It made her proud to be leading such caring people, but she wished she could have saved everyone who started out with her. She’d lost some over multiple cliff sides. She’d lost the two folks walking the road… Were more up ahead? Was she still going too slow?
As she fought against the chill of her fingers on the steering wheel, she happened to look out the front window. A pair of headlights appeared in the darkness ahead, but only for about two seconds. It was hard to make out distance, but there was one fact she couldn’t miss.
They were falling.
Land Between the Lakes, KY
Ezra’s insides turned to mush as the truck driver aimed down at him with a huge, chromed-out 1911 semi-automatic hand cannon. His arms shot up in surrender. “Hey, now, I’m not with those two.”
The driver carefully climbed down the side of his cab, waving him to step back. “I saw you ride in with those others; they went off to get those two bad men. You came right for me. I was your target, wasn’t I?”
“No—”
“It doesn’t matter. What’s done is done. Your buddy has a rifle, too. You give that one to me; your friend can keep his. You ride out, alive, and never come back. I want no one to get hurt.”
It was a costly mistake to assume every interaction was good guys versus bad. The tip-off was the first roadblock where they thought he was the bad guy. Now, he’d mistaken a trucker for a good guy; the more he thought about it, the two kids could have been working with the long-hauler. Any way he sliced it, he’d let his guard down and was about to pay for it. Losing the AR would be a huge detriment.
“Slowly take off,” the Eastern European truck driver demanded.
“Just take it easy. I’m doing it.” He struggled to maintain some semblance of manly dignity, finding it hard to do with a gun pointed at his face. The saturation of adrenaline in his system made his hand and arm shake as he unslung his weapon. “See? It’s coming off.”
A large shape arrived in his peripheral vision. Butch appeared exactly where the two kids had been standing. Instead of a crowbar, he aimed a more serious piece of metal toward the trucker. “Drop that pistol or I’ll take your head clean off!”
The trucker’s eyes remained on Ezra, and their fatalistic gaze suggested he was going to go out shooting. Ezra experienced a few pucker-filled seconds praying the gun wouldn’t go off between his eyes.
“I said drop it!” Butch yelled, sounding like he’d kicked down a terrorist’s door in Afghanistan.
The guy raised his hands before gently setting the pistol on the truck’s fender.
Ezra walked over and snatched it. “Thanks, Butch. I owe you one. This guy was about to rob me.”
“It’s not like that,” the driver pleaded, refusing to sound sorry. “You ambush me with those two kids, no?”
Butch cracked up. “What kids? We don’t know jack for people here. We came from up there.” He pointed to the stripped woods in the north.
“You not bad?” the man asked, finally seeming confused and unsure of himself.
He really thought we were the bad guys.
Ezra’s calculations of good and bad switched again, like a compass searching for the magnetic north pole. It seemed laughable the trucker made the mistake, but he tried to put himself in the other man’s shoes. One man comes up on a motorbike and begins asking inane questions about the bridge, then a second party approaches asking for supplies. Ezra took a second to realize he hadn’t freaked out when the guys with crowbars talked with the driver. He was already callous to the perils of the road. That indifference could have been mistaken as willing participation.
“I’ve got this,” he said to Butch, waving him off. “This place has nothing for us. We’ve got to head back. Go get the others and meet up there.” He pointed over his shoulder to the cliff above the highway.
“You sure?” Butch replied, glaring at the trucker. “You sure you don’t need me to go Army-strong on him?”
“Positive.” He kept his rifle pointed at the feet of the driver, who’d gone back to sitting on his side-step.
Ezra kept alert until the sound of the other three bikes was heading into the woods. “I wasn’t with those crowbar guys, but I don’t blame you for doubting me. Everyone pretends to be someone they’re not when the poop splatters into the fan, trust me.”
The hairy-faced man glanced up. “Who you pretend to be?”
Ezra laughed. In one smooth motion he flung the rifle back on his shoulder, keeping the handgun trained on the driver. “A hero,” he deadpanned. “But I’m definitely a lame one. I couldn’t even save my wife.”
He kickstarted the dirt bike and let it idle for a few seconds, then he checked the pistol to make sure the thumb safety was on. He was tempted to keep it; clearly, he needed a weapon besides a rifle he could whip out in emergency situations. His conscience warned him if he kept it for himself, he’d be equally as guilty as the two thugs looking for easy marks. By disarming the man, those bad guys could swoop back in and take everything. Knowing there was no perfect answer, he bent over and slid the gun underneath the tractor-trailer cab.
After revving the engine and putting about twenty-five feet between himself and the other man, he stopped and glanced back. “I really wasn’t with those kids. They might come back with more than two crowbars. I hope you make it home.”
The driver stood up and reluctantly waved. Ezra hoped it meant the guy had learned a little, but he didn’t intend to stick around. He put it in gear and roared along the line of cars, leaving him far behind.
Ezra exhaled with relief that he’d been there with an ally. If the truck driver had wanted to, he could have taken the rifle and the bike, and there
wouldn’t have been anything he could do to stop him. Instead of making good time on a motorcycle, he’d have been on foot, unarmed. He wouldn’t make it very far like that.
He caught up to Butch and the ladies when they were back on top of the escarpment, looking down on the destroyed bridge. He’d had good and bad luck all day when it came to meeting new people.
And terrible luck last night, with Susan.
The thought struck him like a hot branding iron to his heart, compounded by the emotions of fear, anger, and relief at living through the holdup situation. Losing Susan was the worst luck of his life. All he could think about was connecting with Grace, which made him experience guilt like never before. He’d left that stupid message on her phone. The next time they spoke was going to be hell…
The drizzle from the nearby storm clouds started back up as soon as they got into the woods, making everything feel gloomy and desolate. He rode back toward the Jeepers’ camp with the others, glad the motorcycle helmet concealed his watery eyes.
Chapter 16
Beartooth Pass, WY
The headlights fell through the darkness and disappeared in the gloom like fireflies on a warm summer night. She tried to figure out if what she saw was real, and she looked out the windshield for a half a minute, but they didn’t return.
“Hey, you okay?” Asher prodded.
She got the truck in gear and started down the two-lane road hugging the side of the mountain. Alpine roads usually went down steep terrain in Z patterns, and they were on the straight segment at the top of the Z heading for the next switchback.
“Yeah, sure,” she replied with a shiver. “This is the most dangerous thing I’ve ever done. People are running off the cliffs, bashing through barriers, and sliding all over the place. Lightning is bouncing all around us. I think I just saw a car fall from one of the higher switchbacks. That means there are still cars trying to catch up to us.”
Impact Series Box Set | Books 1-6 Page 32