Impact Series Box Set | Books 1-6

by Isherwood, E. E.

  They drove back toward town.

  “I don’t have any crew-served weapons, I’m afraid, but you already saw our militia. We needed them last night to fend off a group of serial robbers who came from the cities to the north. If the main force is still out on patrol, they’ll have a reserve element at the library.”

  “Warrior librarians?” Butch asked with shock.

  Francis laughed uproariously. “Wouldn’t that be a sight! No, they’re just average folk from around town. We watch over each other. I’m sure they’ll watch over you as you get in your boat. I’ll make sure of it.”

  When they got to the tiny town library, one of the warriors was already out on the front steps, rubbing his wood-grained rifle furniture with a cloth. Francis didn’t even get out of his truck. “Hey, Bernie. I need all the men you can lasso down by the water. There’s a pirate ship out there.”

  “Really?” Bernie replied, standing up.

  “Yeah, really. I’ll meet you down there, okay? Make it snappy!”

  “Sure thing. There’s only four of us on reserve duty. We’ll drive down there in two minutes.”

  “Perfect!” Francis yelled, before adding, “Hoo-ah!”

  Butch looked across the front seat to the driver. “You were in the Army? Me, too.”

  “Yep, long before you were even born. I was a ground pounder in the 32nd Infantry Regiment, 7th Division. Some of the coldest nights of my life. It’s been seventy years and I still shiver when I think of that winter.”

  “I served in Afghanistan. It wasn’t only cold as hell, it was hotter than hell, too.”

  “It sounds like war has gotten worse.” Francis laughed at his own joke.

  Minutes later, as Bernie and his men lined up behind the stripped trees on the shoreline, he said goodbye to Francis, who now carried his rifle. “Thanks for all your help. If we ever come back, we’ll be sure to stop by.”

  “I’m sure you’ll have better things to do than visit an old-timer like me, but thank you for the thought. And Muriel and I thank you for the lift. I hope you find your daughter.”

  “I will. Count on it.” He got Susan’s Grace started, while also looking out over the water. In the minutes it took to gather the defense force, the ship had come up the river and was almost even with the small creek. If the pirates were checking out every inch along the shoreline, they’d see his position any second.

  He reoriented the boat on the water, pointing out to the main channel. It provided a few extra seconds to abort the mission and find another way to travel. Car. Bus. Airplane. Anything might be safer than trying to force their way past the pirates. The reason he stuck with it was due to his backup; if they could prevent the towboat from passing, it would make it safe for him and Butch to continue upriver.

  “Here we go,” he said to Butch, who was holding on to his seat as if he would fall right overboard.

  “I’m with you, E-Z. We’re locked and loaded.” Butch’s rifle was on his lap, ready for what came next.

  Chapter 18

  Crow Agency, MT

  After seeing the mining negotiators to the door, and getting some ice for Asher’s knuckles, Grace was directed to the media room. Shawn Runs Hard gave her and Asher a ten-second tour while he clipped on a microphone. “I’m glad you knocked a tooth out of that man’s mouth. He was out of line, mocking you two. However, a company as large as TKM is going to have the resources to pursue their rock on legal grounds. They might have a Supreme Court Justice in their pocket, for all we know. To head it off, I’m going to go directly to the people.”

  A small team of technicians helped get the room set up, then they directed her and Asher to stand against a green screen. She found the screen interesting. “What are you going to put in the background? I hope you have video of that knockdown.”

  Logan stood off to the side, out of the action, but he laughed heartily. “I’m so glad I met you two. This has been the best day of my life.”

  Everyone looked at him like he were missing an eyeball. The day had been anything but fun for her, or Asher, one good punch notwithstanding. The others in the room seemed to share her sentiment, given the stakes.

  He dialed it back right away. “I mean, except for losing Noah.” He spoke quieter. “I almost forgot he was gone. He would have loved this.”

  Logan’s father walked over and put his arm around the boy’s shoulders. “I’m sorry about your friend, son. We’re going to do our part to make sure the people responsible for Noah’s death get their feet held to the fire. That’s what this is all about.”

  Some of the lights switched off, but brighter ones turned on above her head. Shawn came back and stood next to her and Asher. Like she’d seen in the movies, someone counted down, then went silent before hitting one. It was the cue for the chairman of the tribe to speak.

  “I address you this afternoon with an urgent tribal matter. As you know, a meteorite struck tribal lands two nights ago. Agents of a company called Tikkanen Kinetic Mining sought to buy us off so they could come in and take this blessing from us. However, thanks to my new park ranger friends, Ms. Grace Anderson and Mr. Asher Creighton, I now believe this fallen rock belongs to the Crow Nation. It fell on our land. It’s now part of our heritage. As such, I have been informed by Mr. Creighton, a geologist, this rock has a value of approximately one hundred million dollars.” He paused. “Yes, you heard me correctly. The rock which fell out of the heavens contains gold, platinum, and perhaps other rare elements. I inform you of this so our people can defend our windfall from any and all outsiders who would come and take it. At the same time, because I’m sure TKM will use its legal power to compel us to surrender the rock, I am going to travel to Washington, DC to ensure our rights are upheld.”

  The technical people were professionals about it, but Grace noticed them smiling and silently high-fiving each other. Their leader knew exactly what buttons to press.

  “Finally, I have learned of a missing tribal bus, lost somewhere in Billings. I know many of us have friends and family now separated from us, so I ask each of you to be kind to each other. Take care of your family, then take care of your neighbor, then take care of your community. We cannot let the chaos and danger of the big cities reach us here. My son was brought back to me by my new friends.” He motioned to her and Asher once more. “And while I’m gone, I assure each and every one of you we will do everything we can to recover any tribal members remaining in Billings. Thank you for watching.”

  Asher leaned toward Shawn. “May I say something?”

  The chairman didn’t seem fazed. “Of course, my friend.”

  “I just found out TKM has my sister, Diedre, in a hidden location. I’d like to publicly tell the leadership of that company if anything happens to my sister, I’m holding you all responsible.” He held up his bloody knuckles. “I’m not afraid to do more than punch anyone who touches her.”

  Shawn looked over to confirm Asher was finished, then he nodded to the camera. “Thank you again.”

  The bright lights went off, and the regular interior lights came back on. Grace wiped her brow; the heat lamp effect had caused her to sweat. “Thank you for being so nice to us.”

  Shawn patted Asher on the shoulder but looked to her. “Don’t thank me, yet. I need one more favor from you.”

  “Anything,” she said, realizing it might have been a foot-in-mouth response.

  “I need you to take me south, to Cheyenne. Billings is closer, and it’s where I would normally go to catch a plane, but after what you said about its condition, I think it would be safer to avoid it. Would that work for you?”

  She didn’t mind giving him a lift, but it surprised her he would even ask. He had an entire community at his disposal. “I’d be happy to drive, if you think that would be the best way for you to travel. Wouldn’t your people want to take you?”

  “I want my entire tribe focused on getting our lost members back home, not driving me around like a goober.”

  Logan laughed. “I
t’s Uber, Dad.”

  “Whatever,” his father snapped, before chuckling at himself.

  Grace shared in the laughter; an activity sorely missing from her life since learning about her mother. “You should know my truck has been beat up beyond description. Logan’s uncle said he was going to change my oil, but it has a lot of other problems. Honestly, I don’t know if it will be safe for you.”

  Mr. Runs Hard glared at her, thinking deeply. “Where’s your truck right this second?”

  “It’s down the street, still at Logan’s uncle’s shop.

  He seemed surprised. “Still? How did you get out to the fallen rock?”

  “Logan drove us—” she replied.

  “Ah, yeah, I should have told you, Dad.” Logan sounded disappointed she’d given him up.

  His dad shook his head. “That boy is going to be my undoing. He’s been told not to drive outside of our street, and not without me or his mother along.”

  “If it helps, Ms. Anderson watched over me. I didn’t speed or anything.”

  She chuckled. “He was a very good driver, actually.”

  Shawn rolled his eyes. “Logan’s uncle is my brother-in-law. I’ll have to talk to him about being casual with his pickup. Do you know if he’s done fixing it?” He looked at his son.

  “He already had it on the rack before we left. She’s right, you know. Her truck looked like it had been rolled back and forth in the hands of giants. It was totally junked up.”

  She feigned being offended. “I call it giving her character, not being junked up.” Grace smiled. “But, yeah, it’s a mess.”

  Shawn Runs Hard picked up a nearby phone and dialed a number. He became animated a second or two later. “It’s me. I hear you have a ranger truck in your shop. Uh-huh. Right. I’m going to travel with them for a few hours. Make sure it won’t break down on the way to Cheyenne.” He glanced at a silver watch on his wrist. “You have one hour.”

  Shawn held the phone away from his ear, while the man on the other end screamed at him. He hung up the handset and winked at her. “He said I gave him plenty of time.”

  Grace summoned a smile, though she didn’t feel it. “I don’t think you know how much of a miracle you just asked for.”

  Chester, IL

  Ezra gave one quick glance to the happy red and white bobber attached to his keychain. Of all the times he’d powered up the motor with Susan, he never could have dreamed there’d come a time she was gone, and he was on the run from pirates. Yet…

  He shoved the throttle to feed gas to the overpowered Suzuki sitting behind him, and the boat dug into the water in a most satisfying manner, but he also noted how the extra hundred pounds of gasoline robbed them of a little giddyup.

  Susan’s Grace came out of the hiding spot at about twenty miles per hour. He leaned into a sharp right turn, heading upriver. The pirate towboat was a hundred yards away, making slow and steady progress up the river, too. He glanced over his shoulder to confirm what he expected.

  “They’re watching for us,” he yelled to Butch. Pontoon boats were commonplace on the waterways, especially Kentucky Lake, and for the most part they were so similar to each other it was difficult to tell them apart. However, Susan’s Grace had been rolled onto shore, smashing the overhead sunshade and flattening the glass shield normally in front of the driver’s position. Those cosmetic changes made his boat stand out.

  “Dang, dude. I wish you were wrong about that.”

  The three-story towboat couldn’t have been going faster than ten miles an hour in the rush of the current, but all the men had gathered on the top deck. Ezra could have imagined a booze cruise during a different time; it might appear the ten or fifteen men were having a party. However, instead of drinking beer, the men lined up along the railing with their weapons.

  “Oh, crap. Duck!” Ezra crouched low. There were no obstacles on the open river, save for a couple of pylons for the highway bridge ahead, so he was willing to one-hand the wheel while on the floor.

  Butch crouched next to him, rifle in hand.

  “No, don’t bother!” Ezra exclaimed over the sound of the outboard. “Stay hidden!”

  The gunfire sounded like distant fireworks. Pops and bangs of different calibers echoed over the open water. Ezra held his breath, knowing with all his heart their only chance was to gain distance on the pirates and get out of effective shooting range.

  Seconds later, he’d begun to think they’d made it, when his depth finder computer screen exploded, as did the back of his seat. Several more rounds impacted the pontoons, zinging metallically as each one went in.

  He went all the way to the deck, almost willing to let go of the wheel. It would make him a smaller target, though he worried about the motor leaning one way or the other in the choppy water, which might take them off course.

  Moments passed as more rounds zipped into parts of the boat all around him. It was a heavy downpour of bullets, proving the bad guys had zeroed them in. However, the frequency of hits soon ebbed to nearly nothing. Ezra listened intently, almost like trying to determine when microwave popcorn had finished popping. One more hit the boat’s outer railing about five seconds later, then it stopped for another ten seconds. Hand still on the wheel, he glanced over to the giant of a man sprawled flat on the blue all-weather carpet of the deck. “Should we look up?”

  “Maybe a few more seconds?”

  He thought that was a good idea. If he was watching a movie, he expected he’d lift his head and the master sniper on the other boat would be waiting for him. It was far better to stay low and get out of range.

  When they went under the tall span of the highway, he finally got the nerve to look. At first, he peeked, but quickly sat up higher. “They’re fighting the men on shore.”

  Butch took that as his cue to raise his rifle onto the back of his seat. They both noted a bullet had mangled a six-inch chunk of the corner. Eventually, Butch observed what was happening behind them. “You’re right, E-Z. Good call.”

  The towboat had veered to its left, away from the shore. The men on the top deck shifted positions so they were behind some of the sonar equipment, hiding from Francis and his shooters.

  “You know, boss, if we wanted to stop, we have them in an enfilade. We could bang out some rounds and shoot them in their exposed sides.” Butch lined up his shot, but the boat bounced and shifted from side to side as Ezra continued up the river.

  “No, the men of Chester did us a favor to get us on our way. They have stout trees to hide behind. We have nothing. The smart play is to keep going.” He again noted a sluggishness in the handling of his ride, and it wasn’t due to a little extra weight. “Besides, I think we have another problem.”

  Butch spun around to face him. “If you say we’re going to sink, I want you to drive to shore. It’s right there. A hundred yards from us.” The tree-stripped shoreline went by at thirty-five miles an hour.

  “No, don’t worry. We’re not sinking. But something’s definitely wrong.” Ezra worked with the steering wheel, testing if there was any extra play, and he adjusted the trim up and down for the same reason. The fuel gauge looked good, and the motor sounded healthy, suggesting the gas tank wasn’t ruptured, but there was an unusual sensation in the boat’s performance he couldn’t put his finger on.

  Ezra looked back as they went around a bend in the river. The last glimpse of the pirates showed them making a wide turn toward the Missouri side of the river. He’d hoped they’d turn around and go south to avoid Francis and his men, but the river was wide enough they could get around them. The old man’s plan had allowed him to get away, but it hadn’t stopped their pursuit.

  We have to stay ahead of them.

  He needed to make good on his thought, but he also had to ensure the boat was up to specs. Once he was certain they were out of sight, he let off the throttle and brought the boat to an idle speed.

  “What are you doing?” Butch asked immediately.

  Ezra held up his hand, silently
asking him to hold on. As they bobbed in the water, he tried to solve the riddle. Was it a broken control on his dashboard? His depth finder took a direct hit. Maybe some of the other electronics were fried.

  Without engine power, the boat spun around and went back down the river.

  “Ezra,” Butch said with a complaint in his tone.

  “Just a second. I think I see it now.”

  “What? What the hell is it?” Butch gripped his rifle like a security blanket.

  It was obvious once he knew what to look for. He gave the motor some gas and confirmed a slight pull to the left. Reassured he knew what it was, he hit the throttle again, pointed the vessel upstream, and then resumed course. After he got them back up to a fast cruising speed, he checked on his passenger. There was no easy way to tell him what he’d discovered, so he simply said it.

  “Yeah, we’re sinking.”

  Denver, CO

  Petteri’s people had done well setting up the hasty mining camp inside the stone walls of lower downtown Denver. After the terrible tragedy with the PWI workers, he went around reassuring the local TKM employees their safety was paramount. He also congratulated them for setting up the tents far enough away from the rock so as to be safe from explosions and other problems. The most distant tent was his personal office and the intelligence-gathering team.

  “Show me what’s on the news right now,” he said to one of his employees.

  Four large flat-panel televisions hung from frame mounts along the back wall of the tent. Most displayed imagery of other dig sites, since he liked to keep an eye on as many as possible, but the closest one now displayed a news service.

  The female news anchor smiled at the camera before reading her lines. “The stock market is closed for another day, after losing half its value as a result of the catastrophe in America. Overseas markets are also closed after suffering devastating losses.”

  He flicked the channel.

  “…we’ve seen this time and again, Barbara. First, in Venezuela, then during flu scares in China. Society can only suffer so much before a population descends into a dog-eat-dog mentality. What we’re seeing in Nashville and St. Louis are almost certainly being repeated in the interior states. We simply haven’t been able to get reliable reporting from places like Colorado, Nebraska, or Wyoming.”