Impact Series Box Set | Books 1-6

by Isherwood, E. E.

  Shawn Runs Hard and his son, Logan, spent their time talking to other drivers, always hoping for a way to travel to the Denver airport without being a burden on her. In the new morning, the pair was gone again, so it was only her and Asher in the truck, like old times.

  “I mean, I’m glad we’re not dodging bullets and stuff, but we’ve got to get to Denver before my dad gets there.” Grace hadn’t talked to her father for over twenty-four hours, so she imagined him already driving around Denver looking for her.

  Asher tapped his fancy watch-phone. “I wish this thing could connect. I’d be able to get some news.”

  She’d put her hair in a ponytail. The lack of shower facilities was a disappointment for her greasy locks, though Asher’s wild hair was much worse. It reminded her of a silly string explosion gone wrong. She tried not to giggle while talking to him. “I wonder what they’re doing back at Yellowstone. I know we had no choice in how it went down, but, technically, I think I abandoned my post. I wonder if I’m going to be fired when this is all over…”

  “You didn’t abandon anything. You saved whoever was left by clearing them out of the park. Don’t ever forget it.”

  “I’ll try not to,” she said with the satisfaction he was right.

  They’d both reclined their seats to try to sleep, but he’d brought his up about halfway. The truck pointed south along with the rest of the stopped traffic, toward Denver and as the sun rose over the eastern grasslands, it cast her passenger in soft, morning light. It might have had a romantic aura, except for his chaotic hair and the crazy way he was looking at her.

  “What?” she mused.

  “I’m amazed you even remember your former job. I’ve been with you for, what, four days, and I can barely remember working at the TKM office in Bozeman. They probably won’t even notice I’m gone, honestly. There were a million people in the place.”

  “Really? It was a big office?”

  Asher shrugged. “It felt like it. TKM is a company flush with cash. I think they had more people working there than they needed. Especially in the weeks leading up to the arrival of the Tuonela asteroid, since that was supposed to be the company’s golden goose.”

  “But not for you. Did any of those new people prod you to head out into the field, or was that your decision?” She’d found him almost dead in the Yellowstone wilderness, but she’d never really asked him the details of why he’d gone out there.

  “Mine. Most of the people arriving were financial, or security. I think they anticipated mining the asteroid on the moon would result in every employee becoming a millionaire, so they wanted to have their financial and tax records in order. My interest was more pragmatic. I knew about the accident above the moon almost as soon as it happened.”

  The industrial accident had changed her world. Asher came into her life as suddenly as the fallen rock, and with almost as much impact. Now she couldn’t imagine going back to her old life without him. With a little coaxing, she hoped to convince him to become a park ranger. There was steep competition to get cherry assignments like Yellowstone, but she was confident her actions in saving people would give her a little sway in hiring decisions. At least for him.

  Asher sat up. “They’re moving!”

  She adjusted her seat. Up ahead, red brake lights turned on, one car after the next, in a procession. It meant someone was moving at the front of the pack.

  “We’ve got to find Shawn and Logan,” she complained.

  “I’m on it,” Asher replied, hopping out of the truck.

  She had a few minutes to watch the chain of red lights get closer. The terrain was flat as a board, making it easy to see for miles. She started the truck, adding her lights to the display, afraid she was going to hold up those behind her if she needed to wait for her people.

  “Come on,” she fretted, craning her neck to see out the window. It would be her luck she’d pull over to wait for them, but then the military would close the roadblock again, trapping them for another day.

  Vehicles began moving a couple hundred yards to the front of her, and she was certain it would reach her before the men came back, but Asher opened his door a few seconds later. “I found ’em.”

  Shawn and Logan climbed in through the one good door in the rear. “Thanks for coming to get us,” the broad-shouldered tribe leader said. “It would be a long walk back to Crow Agency.” He laughed at his joke, though there was an underpinning of fear in his voice.

  “Don’t worry. We weren’t going to leave you. I was going to pull over if you didn’t make it, but I’m glad you did. We’ll stick with this group.” Almost as she said it, the van ahead of her began to roll.

  “Get us to the airport and we’ll be out of your hair. You can’t believe how many people we spoke to about getting a ride. No one was willing to risk cutting cross-country to go around the roadblock. It’s like they’re afraid of the government or something.” He chuckled knowingly, stroking his grayish stubble, which was quickly becoming a beard. Given that she’d found him on the flat plains, the Native American reminded her of a mountain man, without the mountain.

  Logan laughed too. “You guys might not know this, but the government hasn’t always had the Crow Nation’s back. What surprised me and Dad is that other people share our concerns. No one really likes the feds.”

  She tried to be impartial, but it was impossible to forget the fact she was an agent of said government. Her uniform had been instrumental in getting them through some of their earlier adventures, and she didn’t mind being associated with Uncle Sam when it helped her. But now, perhaps it was a liability. She’d have to let the thought simmer. “Lucky for you, two of the best government agents are on your side.”

  Asher flashed her an awkward smile, reminding her he wasn’t truly an agent, though he couldn’t change out of his uniform yet. His suit was back in the Yellowstone police station, gone for good, and they weren’t going to be hitting the mall any time in the near future.

  She finished her thought. “Anyway, I promise we’ll stick with you until you get where you’re going.”

  The highway moved not much faster than a glacier, especially when they passed the gaggle of parked Humvees where the roadblock used to be. But at least the endless hours of waiting were finally over.

  Alton, IL

  “You enjoying your time off the boat?” Ezra asked Butch as they sat on the shore.

  “I want to get moving, for your sake.” Butch pointed to Susan’s Grace, which was tied to a tree along the washed-out waterfront of Alton, Illinois. “As long as the rain stays away.”

  Two nights ago, after getting clear of the clogged river underneath the shadow of the Gateway Arch, Ezra decided to camp along the waterway, within earshot of the blockage on the river. He figured if they heard the water howling through the metal trusses and warped barge hulls, the river was closed and the pirates couldn’t get their boats upriver to chase them.

  “Yeah, that storm was a kick in the beanbag, wasn’t it?” He glanced downriver, toward the confluence of the Missouri and Mississippi Rivers. They needed to go up the Missouri River to take the most direct route to Grace out in Denver, but he’d missed the entrance the day before. After they left their camp spot near downtown St. Louis, a brutal storm whipped up and killed their visibility. He drove the boat as far as he dared, but once he saw the town of Alton, he knew he’d missed the turn and needed to pull over. “And it didn’t help that the flooding made the merging rivers into a giant lake.”

  They’d spent the entire day and night on the riverbank huddled under a tarp while waiting for the rain to finally stop. They only made one side trip into town, to get five gallons of gasoline. As Ezra looked out on the dirt-brown river not long after sunrise, the bad weather finally seemed to have cleared out. He stood up and stretched.

  “Hey, before you go, are you two interested in a job?” A man in a navy-blue rain jacket stood on the wooded shoreline above them.

  Ezra looked back. “We’re not from ar
ound here.”

  “It’s fine,” the man said in an agreeable tone. “The job ain’t really around here, neither. It’s running security for our mining operations in southern Illinois and Paducah.”

  “Pass,” Ezra exclaimed, a little miffed to have solicitors visit him no matter where he was. He didn’t want to engage the man by telling him they’d recently come from Paducah, and mining operations weren’t going to be very useful when the city was underwater.

  The guy huffed to himself before clearing out.

  “That was random,” Butch said, once the guy was farther down the shore, harassing some of the other boaters who’d salvaged their craft from the high waters.

  “Agreed,” Ezra replied. “Maybe we should tell him about those pirates. They could use some honest work. The hard labor in a mine would do them good.”

  Butch adjusted himself on his rock, then stood alongside him. “Those men need more than honest work. They preyed on people who’d lost everything in the flooding. Those boats cost a lot of money, not to mention what they probably did to the owners. They need to be put down.”

  “I don’t argue with my first mate,” Ezra declared. “Let’s collect our gear and get the rock out of here.” He kicked the wet stone he’d been using as his recliner.

  Fortunately, they were able to scrounge a couple of rain ponchos from inside one of the boat’s hidey holes. He and Susan had kept a few emergency items like sunscreen, rags for wiping water from equipment, and rain ponchos in there. His was dark green and fit perfectly. Susan’s was light gray, almost white, and Butch had to tear open the front to fit it over his broad shoulders. The hood was fine, but he wore the rest as a makeshift cape.

  They didn’t have much for gear, but the stuff they did have was as good as gold. Thanks to Darius, they didn’t have to give up one of the rifles to pay him for the tow over the cobblestones. It left them with the two rifles, two backpacks filled with ammo, a camp shovel, and other odds and ends, plus the big tarp they’d taken from Roger’s house. Everything was neatly placed between their seats when the cold-call salesman came back.

  “Hey! Before you go, will you tell anyone you meet about us? I work for Tikkanen Kinetic Mining, TKM for short. We pay better than any outfit around. I promise you that!”

  “Is it so hard to find helpers?” he replied, still not sure he wanted to engage with the man, but curious as to what would drive someone to scour the wooded outskirts of a small river town.

  The man chuckled in a gruff tone. “Mister, you have no idea how long I’ve been trying to get the right candidates. Mining is hard work. So is protecting the miners, if you know what I mean.”

  Ezra wasn’t satisfied with the answer, but he’d had enough. Butch was already on board, so he gathered the tow line, tossed it into the front, and then pushed off. “Well, good luck. I bet it’s harder than it looks.”

  “It is,” the man said dryly.

  A drizzle started up almost the second he got behind the wheel. “We need to find a rain tent for this tub. I’m not going to drive a thousand miles while having rain slap in my face, you know?” With time, he might be able to construct a frame to go over the seats. Then he could drape his tarp over the top to give him a roof. That said, it would be a lot easier if they could find a tent or rain fly and use the ready-made poles and material.

  “I’ll keep an eye out,” Butch replied, dutifully looking into the water for whatever treasures it might yield. There was certainly a lot of trash floating by. It wasn’t impossible to imagine a rain fly being in there.

  Ezra kept his attention on the man at the shore as he kicked on the outboard motor and throttled up. For some reason, it bothered him to think of any company scavenging around Paducah. He was almost positive they couldn’t have cleared away the bodies, much less buried them. Going into a disaster for financial gain seemed very wrong.

  TKM isn’t my problem.

  Chapter 2

  Loveland, CO

  The change took place so gradually, she barely noticed. Somewhere in the fifty miles between Cheyenne, Wyoming and Loveland, Colorado, passenger cars exited the highway while work trucks came on. What started out as a bunch of cars that might have been heading out for summer vacation now looked entirely different.

  “Do you get the feeling we’re in a construction zone?” Asher remarked, voicing what she’d already been thinking.

  “You see it, too?” she replied, dropping their speed down to fifty.

  “Uh, yeah. How can you miss it? There’re flatbeds of tractors and digging equipment from here to the horizon.” He pointed south. The land now wasn’t as flat or as boring as Wyoming, but they were able to see long stretches of highway ahead of them as they’d done back in the Cowboy State. It looked as though everyone was heading south. The northbound lanes were tantalizingly empty.

  “Where do you think they’re all going?” Logan asked from the backseat, suddenly interested in what was happening.

  “I don’t know. We haven’t been able to follow the news for a while. At this point, I’d say they’re going to Denver, like us.” The military had been tightlipped about events taking place beyond the Cheyenne checkpoint, and the radio stations in the area didn’t play anything other than the emergency broadcast tone or dead air. Having a newscaster tell her what to expect ahead could have made all the difference.

  “The highway to the airport should be coming up soon. It goes around the city, not through it.” Shawn Runs Hard spoke calmly, like it was all going to work out.

  Minutes later, her speed dropped to about forty. The traffic became molasses thick, as if they were in the stop-and-go traffic of rush hour. She’d gotten enough of that traveling I-24 near Paducah, though back home was toddler-sized compared to what was around her.

  “Hang on, I’m asking someone.” She slowed to match the speed of the yellow pickup truck next to her, then waited to catch the attention of the man sitting in the passenger seat. The sign on the door said something about construction, which was what she needed. When she looked up, the man faced her way.

  She motioned for him to roll his window down, which he was anxious to do. The middle-aged man wore a black ball cap and smoked a cigarette. He flashed her a little wave and smiled, perhaps thinking she was coming on to him.

  “What’s going on up there?” She had to shout over the wind and tire noise.

  “We’re heading to Denver. How about you, missy?”

  Yep, he was hitting on her.

  “I need to know what all these trucks are doing. What’s ahead?”

  The man was visibly disappointed. “We’re all going to the same place. Some Indian chief said the meteors that fell to the ground a few days ago are worth billions of dollars! Every truck in this line is heading there to try to get a chunk of it.” He renewed his smile. “Want to go?”

  “Thanks, but I already have someone.” She leaned back, hoping he saw Asher across the front seat. She gave a curt wave as thanks, then rolled up her window.

  “Who was this Indian chief of whom he speaks?” Shawn Runs Hard asked sarcastically.

  “I think he meant you, Dad,” Logan replied seriously.

  She and Asher cracked up at the fourteen-year-old Captain Obvious.

  They drove for another hour before they saw the big green sign showing the way to Denver International Airport. She guided the truck onto the flyover ramp heading east, pleased to see almost everyone else in the line continuing toward Denver. Once they were clear, she had the truck back to eighty miles per hour. “We’ll be there in less than sixty minutes,” she announced after seeing the mileage remaining on another sign.

  “I hope you’re right,” Shawn said in an ominous tone.

  Besides taller mountains to the west, the landscape leading toward the interchange wasn’t that different than any other part of their drive from Cheyenne. There was lots of grass, and a few more rolling hills around the highway, but not much for towns or cities, at least on the north side of the road. Then, as the t
ruck hit a high spot in the route, the sprawling metropolis of Denver was laid out before her to the south of them. It was as if the town’s streets, homes, and buildings wanted nothing to do with the land north of the east-west highway.

  “Oh no,” Asher said, pointing to another sign. “Somehow we got on a toll road.”

  She chuckled. “They can bill me. I’m not stopping again for anything until we reach the airport.”

  “It’s all automated,” Shawn said from the backseat. “They’ll take a picture of your license plate, then send a bill to your address.”

  “Then we’re fine,” she reasoned. “I’m not even sure the license plates are still on this thing and, even if they were, the bill would go to 123 Yellowstone Park, not my apartment.”

  She glanced over to Asher, wondering if he was going to let it bother him. Grace had stopped worrying about such things back when the bison rammed her. She would gladly pay for the entire truck if it meant her life was no longer in danger and the world was back to normal.

  A few miles later, they crossed a small stream with lots of green shrubs and grass hugging the shore. A bike path ran alongside the water and it appeared to go south, toward the dense part of the sprawl. No one was down there at the edge of the city. Why would they be? Everyone was heading downtown to get rich, apparently.

  Another quarter of a mile more, and they saw a few houses near an off-ramp and bridge over the highway. A half-dozen cars were parked on the roadway’s shoulder, but they were all facing the other direction. She’d sped by before figuring out what they were doing.

  She drove a few more miles, thinking they were in the clear for getting somewhere, but the illusion burst when they approached the off-ramp to the airport.