Impact Series Box Set | Books 1-6

by Isherwood, E. E.

  “Yeah,” he agreed, stomach reeling.

  Haley took a peek inside before glancing somewhere else. If she was upset by what was left of mustache man, she didn’t let on. Instead, she hastened to the cargo bed of the truck. “Jackpot!”

  He and Butch joined her.

  “Let’s take what we can,” he suggested. “These guys obviously looted a store somewhere. This is probably all from Bass Pro.” The back bed of the pickup truck was filled with camping and survival gear. There were multiple tents. Sleeping bags. Cooking stoves. Tanks of propane.

  “Butch, could I ask you a huge favor?” he said while they stood admiring the gear.

  “Anything, boss.”

  “Would you open the door and yank our guy out of the front seat? We’re going to drive this truck out of the field, down the levee, and back to my boat. It will save us the effort of carrying this stuff.”

  “I’ll help,” Haley said without hesitation.

  He gave her a sideways look.

  “I know what you’re thinking. Why?” She smiled. “I know what it’s like to be in shock after violence.” Her eyes went to his hands, which he held over the lip of the truck’s bed. They trembled enough to be noticed.

  “Damn,” he said, pulling them behind the side of the truck.

  She and Butch made short work of the task. They opened the door, pulled the man out, then Butch used his strength to drag the guy several more yards out into the corn, so he was out of sight. When they were done, they used something from the bed to wipe down the rear window. They also put a camo jacket over the seat, to hide the blood. It was more than he’d asked, but the delay gave him needed time to calm himself and bring his blood pressure back down to normal.

  While they worked, he used Haley’s phone to try Grace again. After what he’d done, he needed to hear her voice. However, it went to her voicemail. He was anxious to hear her, even in recorded form, which was why he noticed she’d changed the recording again. It said she was going west, not east. A huge change.

  He calmed himself before speaking, so she wouldn’t worry about him. “Hi, honey. I got your voice message. I won’t go into Denver. We’re on the river, though, heading west. I’ll try to get to where you said. TKM has been after us. They almost killed me.” It came out without him consciously saying it. Inside, he must have needed to talk to her more than he admitted. Still, he tried to end without sounding worried. “I have to go. I love you.”

  Once back at the boat, they didn’t hop in and go. Ezra advised them to take their time, since there was no one coming for them. They could finally stow things in a logical way.

  He grabbed three sleeping bags. Transferred two tents. He considered bringing one of the propane stoves but didn’t think it would mix well with bullets. He also thought about taking all the extra rifles, but if anyone ever figured out the three of them were responsible for the attack, they wanted the authorities to know the dead men were armed and dangerous. They already had three good rifles and bulk ammo to share between them. Finally, after loading all the new gear on the boat, he realized he’d missed a critical piece of their leisurely boarding process.

  “Um, people. This is all wrong.”

  “It wasn’t me,” Butch replied sarcastically.

  “Yes, it was,” Ezra insisted. “You let me load all our stuff while we have a perfectly good truck at our disposal.”

  Butch gave him a blank look. “I’m not tracking you.”

  “We ate some more bullets, which added to those already in the pontoons. We can use this truck’s tow hitch to pull the boat onto the shore, then I’ll use the epoxy to properly seal the holes, then you two fine youngsters can push Susan’s Grace back into the water.”

  “That doesn’t sound fun,” Haley deadpanned.

  “What part of this has been fun?” he asked seriously.

  She turned pensive. “Seeing my Liam play with Josephine’s black lab was a little fun.”

  Butch materialized next to her, then slung his arm loosely over her shoulder, as if not quite sure he should do it. However, she leaned into him, before continuing. “I’m sorry, I don’t want to bring down the mood.”

  He chuckled a little. “Haley, you have nothing to worry about with the two of us. Our moods have been in the crapper since we left Kentucky. The only thing keeping us going is our sense of humor. Sometimes, all you can do is laugh.”

  Butch picked up on his vibe. “Yeah, you have to laugh when the dam breaks in front of you.”

  Ezra continued. “You have to crack up when six thugs force you to take six lives.”

  Haley brushed back some of her bangs. “You have to laugh when the only way to keep your furry friends safe is to leave them in a remote country town.”

  “That’s the spirit,” he said in a soothing tone. “I’d be happy to drive you back down the river so you can get out and stay with your pets. My daughter’s voicemail said she’s on the move. We’re not going to Denver. We’re going to Yellowstone. It could change a dozen more times, so you don’t have to come with us…” He hung it out there now that they weren’t under the gun. It amazed him how fast his perspective changed when no one was chasing them. They could go up the river. Down the river. It didn’t matter, as long as they eventually went toward Grace.

  She seemed to think about it. “If I’m honest with myself, I got on the boat to escape what happened to Xander. Before he died, he told me to find someone who could protect me. Since the TKM people were rampaging through St. Charles, he thought a second wave of violence was coming, and he wanted me to be ready for it.”

  Haley tilted her head to look at Butch. “I knew you were capable of keeping me safe, and I’ve already admitted part of my reasoning was, um, because you were a cool drink of milk.” She giggled. “But all these men shooting at us tells me Xander was right. I need to stick with someone who can take care of himself. Someone who can train me to survive. If you’ll let me stay, I really think I found the right guys.” As an afterthought, she looked over to Ezra.

  He shrugged. “It was only an offer. I think I speak for both of us when I say you’ve made our day brighter, not darker.”

  Butch nodded. “He speaks for us both.”

  “Aww,” she bubbled. “You want me to stay?”

  “I do,” Butch croaked.

  She separated from him, brandishing a toothy smile. “Good. You can unload the gear. I’m hoping Ezra will show me how to hook his boat to the back of the truck with a tow strap. I have to learn, right?”

  He and Butch shared a knowing look. In that moment, he’d never seen his friend happier. It was a nice silver lining to the day they’d endured.

  The muddy water continued to flow by, even as the shade of the trees blocked the sun and cooled things down. He figured it had been a couple of hours since he’d first set foot on dry land, and the day had gotten away from him.

  To all, he added, “Let’s hurry. Once we fix the boat, we’ll steer the truck into the water to make it disappear. Then I want to get a few more miles while we still have some light.”

  Denver, CO

  Aarons brought him down the first two flights of stairs. As he ran by the door for floor nine, he caught sight of Dorothy in her business suit. The men tried to keep him moving, but he grabbed the door handle to stop.

  “I have to get her.” He pointed to the dark-haired woman.

  Petteri didn’t need their approval. He opened the door and shouted, “Dorothy! Over here. Come with me.”

  She jogged up to him. “What’s going on?” As she arrived, she caught sight of his security team with their weapons out. “Are you all right?”

  “Yes, come inside. Hurry.” He held the door ajar so the young woman could come through. Once in, the security men shoved them both toward the steps. He allowed them to shepherd him, glad he’d done a heads-up play to rescue his helper. If anyone was watching, he’d be labeled a hero. He’d also make sure she didn’t forget it.

  Dorothy was unable to stay silent.
They’d gone down a few steps before she spit out questions. “Where are we going, sir? Are these guns really necessary? Where’s everyone else?”

  “Shush. We must both do as we’re told.” He wasn’t sure if it was necessary to tell her it was the police coming up the steps. It wasn’t the time to explain why his people couldn’t allow a small-town mayor to put an end to his business dealings.

  “Okay,” she said, growing scared.

  Aarons held the door as they went into the hallway of floor eight. It was pitch black, suggesting the lights had been shut off. He pointed where they should go using his flashlight. The first two security men guided them to an interior room in the middle of the building.

  “Wait a second,” Petteri pleaded, realizing they were going to shut them inside.

  “No time,” Aarons replied.

  “Who’s staying with us?” he asked his security chief.

  Aarons was going to close the door, but he paused and pulled a pistol from his belt. After a quick pull to cycle the action, he handed it to Petteri. “Safety is off. She’s hot. Shoot anyone who comes through this door.”

  “Where will you be?”

  Another explosion shook the building. Pieces of the ceiling tiles rained from above, like snow on a dark night.

  Aarons flipped down a mask he recognized as a pair of night-vision goggles. “Sir, I’ll be out here making them pay for every inch they try to take. Don’t worry. We got this.” The man slammed the door.

  Petteri went back to feeling out of control.

  It didn’t suit him.

  Chapter 13

  Somewhere in Central Wyoming

  When it was near dark, Misha called them all together. Besides her, Asher, and their immediate friends, there were still a few people in the boxcar who wanted to tag along, plus Robert and a fellow railroad employee who helped pilot the engine. All told, there were twelve people in their group.

  “We will be safer in darkness,” Misha said dryly. “We should go.”

  “Safer?” Robert asked. The man in the greasy coveralls had been a good sport about having been shot at several times, but he was clearly growing weary of the activity.

  “It will never be perfectly safe. Nerio—the woman in the helicopter,” he added for the new people, “has the tools to make our lives miserable all hours of the clock.”

  “He means our best chance is now,” Grace added, amazed to find herself backing up the ex-hitman. She continued. “We’ll go back out in the truck and scout ahead.”

  Robert and the others didn’t immediately jump at the chance to go, but Misha reminded them why they were heading to the rock near Yellowstone. As before, he told them how he had friends there who could protect them, but then he added a line about making them all wealthy with the ore from the dig. That seemed to entice everyone into accepting the risk.

  When she and Asher got back in the truck and drove toward the orange sunset, she asked him about it. “Why did you tell those people they would get rich going toward Yellowstone? Was it a lie to get them to do what you wanted?”

  Misha shifted forward, one arm on each of the front seats, so he could speak from the back. “Nyet. Not a lie. Your friend, the Crow, said he wants to secure rock on his land. We can do the same for TKM piece where we are going. When you see it, I am sure you will agree is enough wealth to share with those who help defend it.”

  She saw a flaw in his plan right away. “But you don’t know if the owner will agree to it.”

  He exhaled. “I am betting he will.”

  They drove for several hours during the night. Misha radioed back and forth with the train at regular intervals, to ensure Robert didn’t see the helicopter, either.

  Traffic on the highway helped them blend in. Nerio couldn’t shoot at each car, Grace reasoned, so the threat to them was much less than those on the bigger train. A few times they spotted aircraft in the sky, causing her to ask if they should pull over and turn off their lights, but each time Misha counseled her to drive on.

  “If you stop, we will stand out,” he said the first time. “That would be bad.”

  She continued on, ignoring the second and third brushes with lights in the sky.

  After traveling the interstate for another thirty minutes, the truck crested a rise which allowed them to see a straightaway at least twenty miles into the distance. The white twinkles of headlights were barely visible at the vanishing point near where the ground met the starry sky. However, a black shape passed in front of her sight line, far closer.

  “Stop!” Misha shouted.

  She slammed on the brakes.

  “Lights off!” Misha yelled, already almost in the front seat.

  Grace slowed the truck, kicked off the headlights, and veered toward the side of the highway. She rolled the window partway down to listen for the expected sound of a helicopter.

  An eighteen-wheeler roared by in the next lane, momentarily drowning out everything else.

  “Did you hear it?” Asher asked, rolling down his own window.

  “I think so,” she whispered.

  “It was her,” Misha said, shifting himself around the rear seats. “I know it.”

  The semi’s red lights continued down the highway, allowing the air to settle outside the truck. As she listened, the sound of a chopping rotor became evident. “Yes, I hear it now.”

  “Where is she?” Misha said evenly.

  “Can we get out the big gun?” Grace asked, feeling as if the truck were about to be split open by the machine gun.

  “There is no time for it. It is not effective when the helicopter is directly above.” He continued to move around from one side of the rear compartment to the other.

  “There’s always fine print,” she said to Asher, seeking a laugh from her friend.

  He smiled in the low light of the dashboard before responding. “We have to trust him.”

  “I know,” she lamented, anxiously slapping the steering wheel.

  “Be ready to go when I say.” Misha’s voice had become clinical.

  The dark shape returned, a few hundred yards in front of them. The silhouette blotted out the stars. “I see it!” she exclaimed.

  “Drive!” Misha shouted.

  The clatter of Nerio’s machine gun tore through the nighttime air as Grace pushed the gas pedal all the way to the floorboard. The concrete of the roadway behind them lit up with fireworks as a laser-like line of orange zipped out of the sky.

  Misha finally sounded nervous. “She uses tracers. Avoid those.”

  “No kidding!” she railed. Another volley came down from the flying platform of death. Grace realized, too late, there was no hiding from the glowing fingers of the tracer rounds. Both lanes of the highway were easily visible to her in the orange hue burning off the incoming rounds, and thus they were an easy target for the killer above.

  She didn’t wait for guidance. As the woman searched for her target, Grace let off the gas and slammed her boot into the brake pedal. The truck skidded, sloughing off all the speed she’d built up in her short escape.

  Misha tumbled forward.

  Nerio’s aim was disrupted. It went in front of the truck, as if she’d been anticipating its movement. Then the blazing light turned off again.

  “Hang on!” she advised before kicking her beloved Suburban in the guts one more time. “And get in the very back!”

  “I try,” Misha squawked, bouncing around the cabin.

  There was only one place she could go.

  On the Missouri River

  They gained a good number of miles before the sun was totally gone. Based on what he saw on his map, he guessed they were on the outskirts of Kansas City. As much as Ezra wanted to keep going into the night, prior experience with the debris in the water made him pick a spot to beach the pontoon boat until morning. Since they had tents and sleeping bags, all they needed was a patch of forest to hide in.

  “I’ll put the girls’ tent over here,” Haley said in a mocking tone.

>   Butch was already setting up what Ezra assumed was the boys’ tent.

  After securing the lines and checking his epoxy patches on the bullet punctures in the pontoons, he came over to where Butch had piled a few branches for a fire. “Need me to collect some wood?”

  Butch nodded. “I’ll have this tent up and the tinder started by the time you get back.”

  Haley made less progress on her tent. If she was still at it when he returned, he’d offer a little help. They were going to be on the water for a long time, so she might as well learn how to set it up at her own pace. It’s what he would have done with Grace.

  He walked into the trees, eager to find dry wood for the fire. His eyes were adjusted to the moonlit darkness, making it easy to see the numerous logs and sticks on the ground. After filling his arms and turning to go back, however, he heard the distinct footfall of someone crunching a branch.

  Without waiting for it to happen again, he dropped his bundle and unslung his rifle. There was no way he’d ask if anyone was there. He was sure someone was close. It wouldn’t be Butch; he wouldn’t play around when weapons were involved. Haley might be out there, but he didn’t think she was that reckless, either. Plus, Butch wouldn’t let her go off alone. All signs pointed to it being a stranger.

  The crackle of a human’s steps happened again. Closer.

  He gently set the safety to the hot position.

  “Hello?” a man asked from the darkness. “I give up.”

  Ezra hesitated for half a minute. Was it a trick? A trap? Should he respond?

  The voice came closer. “I’m done for. You got me.”

  He saw the outline of the man in the moonlight. He was much closer than he would have thought. Ten feet, at best.

  Ezra needed to reply. “I’m not here to hurt you. I came from downriver.”

  “Really?” The talker stumbled forward, out of the brush. It was a dangerous act if the man really thought someone was out to get him. Didn’t he know how easy it was to be shot these days?

  “Hold up! I don’t know who you are.”