Impact Series Box Set | Books 1-6

by Isherwood, E. E.

  “I’ve got something, Mr. Tikkanen.” Dorothy’s voice vibrated with the airframe.

  “Let me see it,” he said, aware his Dramamine and Lorazepam were still working double-shifts to quell his rebellious stomach.

  The woman bounced from seat to seat as she made it down the aisle. He got some satisfaction from the green look on her face; she was being affected by the ungodly turbulence more than he was. “Sorry, sir, I’m trying to work through it. I haven’t needed the airsickness doggie bag, yet.”

  The mere mention of puking made him clench his jaw, willing his stomach not to choose that moment to hop out. He spoke as if nothing else was going on. “Just show me what you’ve found.”

  She balanced her laptop on his armrest. “I’ve been trawling through satellite feeds for the past couple of hours. There is still a lot of smoke from burning forests and cities, as well as debris clouds from the impacts themselves. A lot of that is drifting east with the prevailing winds, which leaves the western edges pretty much the only place where we can get reliable intel.”

  “Please hurry,” he said, struggling between major discomfort and losing his lunch.

  “Right. Here’s what I’ve found in Wyoming: one of the bigger pieces made it to the ground, just south and east of Yellowstone National Park. You can clearly see an impact crater inside the park here…” she pointed to the colorful imagery on the screen, “and a second crater outside the park, here.”

  “It bounced?”

  “Yeppers,” she snarked, seemingly trying to sound like her usual upbeat self.

  She’d used that word twice too many times for his liking. “Please. Never use ‘yeppers’ in my presence. Fingernails on the chalkboard would be preferable.”

  She turned a bit greener. “I’m sorry. I won’t.”

  He acknowledged her and turned to the screen again. “So, this is good news. I already have teams in the area, and it isn’t far from my Utah potash mining operation. I’ll have Howard get our men there as soon as possible. Are you sure this isn’t the mother lode? Are you sure we should be going to Denver?”

  Dorothy had proven her mettle by staying behind after her group failed to stop the asteroid from hitting the Earth, but he was still wary of her intentions and didn’t fully trust her. Unfortunately, it would have taken a long time to get a competent team in to do the tasks he’d been giving her, and he wouldn’t trust those people, either.

  “I’m positive,” she said quietly. “But there’s something you should know about the Wyoming site.” Dorothy half-turned the laptop to her so she could adjust the screen. When ready, she turned it back to him.

  “Someone’s already there?” he said, stunned. “Those are our people, I trust?”

  “No, I don’t think so. I used some data from earlier today to follow the progress of these trucks. The excavator equipment came from a construction site on a nearby interstate. I tried to dig around on the parts of the internet still working and found a press release about that segment of highway. It’s being done by a company called Bakersfield Resources.”

  “I’ve never heard of them.”

  She nodded, swaying where she stood. “I figured you might say that, so I took the liberty of researching who they were. I found out their parent company is Chinese. A mega-corporation based in Shanghai called PW Industries.”

  He knew them well. PWI was one of the biggest conglomerates in the Asian markets for construction, shipping, and mining. They also had a division dedicated to the stated purpose of asteroid retrieval, though they were a decade behind his company in terms of putting men and ships beyond Earth’s orbit. He wouldn’t have even listed them in the top five companies who could compete with TKM in space. On the ground…

  “Howard, I need you,” he called out to his man.

  “Wait. I have one more thing.” She tipped the laptop to her again and made her changes to the field of view. When done, she put it back in front of him. “I hope you don’t mind me doing this, but I know it’s important to you.”

  She zoomed in. “This is northwestern Wyoming.” With another tap, the resolution increased. “This is northwestern Yellowstone. Mammoth Hot Springs, to be exact.” She tapped it one more time. “And this is a convoy we picked up a few hours ago, before it went under heavy cloud cover. I was able to follow their progress out of the hot springs area and to a nearby canyon, where some of them stopped. Note the lead truck; it’s missing one of its doors.”

  He and his stomach weren’t in the mood for riddles. “What are you showing me? People are banding together to leave the park like some kind of wagon train?”

  “Not at all. I used GPS data from your employee’s phone—Misha Gagarin. It showed he was here most of last night.” She zoomed out and showed a gravel road surrounded by burnt forest. “You can see a stricken TKM truck down the road from this park service vehicle. I’ve confirmed the company vehicle was Mr. Gagarin’s. This morning, at approximately 4 a.m., he left his truck, walked down the road, and apparently hitched a ride to Mammoth Hot Springs.”

  “That’s great news. I’m happy he’s still alive. Are we through here?” He waved her off, anxious to suffer the indignity of flight sickness for a short time on his own, until Howard arrived.

  “There’s a big problem. At about 6 a.m., someone gets into the park service truck and drives down the road, toward Mammoth. That truck is now leading the convoy.” She burped a little, patting her stomach a second later. “Sir, based on the evidence, I think the truck belongs to the pair of people Mr. Gagarin was pursuing.”

  “No, that’s not possible. Misha called in to Howard. Said his targets were dead.” He realized what he was saying to her. “Why are you even telling me this? Your job description doesn’t include…these types of issues.” If she was already prying into his less-than-appropriate behaviors with Howard’s teams, he would have to keep watch on her even more than he thought. She reminded him of one of his annoying young grandnieces—always getting into trouble.

  “I’m only trying to help,” she snarked. “Maybe he was lying when he said what he said.” She flipped back to a prior view. It showed the damaged park service truck. Looking at it again, there were two people standing next to the vehicle. It was all very circumstantial, but something about the pair on the screen screamed out a warning to him. His cultivated image was at stake again. He had to be thorough about following through on Dorothy’s claim, even if he hated that she was being nosey.

  “Howard? I need you front and center right this instant!”

  The plane dipped and then rose, flinging Dorothy’s laptop onto the floor. She fell to her knees trying to catch it.

  A second later, the door of the restroom opened at the head of the compartment. “I’m sick as a dog, sir, but I’m coming.”

  Good. You’re about to be a whole lot sicker.

  Chapter 19

  Beartooth Pass, WY

  Grace saw the pair of headlights heading for her; they weren’t aimed down like she would have thought. Instead, they spun end over end, as if the car was doing somersaults on the way toward the ground. The horn blew the entire time.

  Her feet became lead weights as she watched it speed toward her, and she only had time to think how bad she’d misjudged its path. At the last second, hands shoved her hard to one side as a loud crack signaled the vehicle’s destruction. A shockwave pushed her down into the snow; a second rush of hot air surged over her fallen body.

  Her heart pounded against the pavement, probably registering on a seismograph somewhere. For a few seconds, she breathed in and out, unconcerned with the fact her head was almost buried in snow.

  I’m alive?

  She summoned the energy to sit up a little. Behind her, the now-crushed car had landed upside down on the snowy surface of the road, perhaps muffling the explosion of metal on concrete. There were no fires, which was a relief, but staying there was a hazard. “Asher?”

  “Here!” he replied from close by, also face-down in the snow. He’d r
aised his hand to show her where he was.

  She got up and slid through the snow to get to him. “We have to leave!”

  He came to life when she grabbed his arm. “Is there another one coming? I don’t know if I could dodge a second.”

  Grace helped him up. “I can’t see another, but…” They stood together looking at the multiple wrecks on the curved road. Tessa’s truck was nearby, flattened by the last car to fall off the cliff. It, and the hunk of metal that almost crushed them, were illuminated by the dull red of her truck’s taillights. It cast a somber glow over the scene. It took her a few moments to realize Asher hadn’t let go of her hand, so she unwrapped her fingers from his. “I’m so sorry, Tessa. And Chester.”

  “We should go,” Asher advised, cautiously watching above.

  She looked up as well. “Yeah, like Chester said, this is a bad spot on the road.”

  Together, they jogged down the snowy roadway, following the distinct ruts created by all the cars in her convoy which had recently come through. When they’d made it about twenty of the twenty-five yards to her truck, Asher slipped and fell.

  “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 th
e 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 dragged 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.”