Impact | Book 6 | Dig

by Isherwood, E. E.

  “I was working at Bridge Bay campground when the asteroid shot overhead. I, uh, survived long enough to get survivors over Beartooth Pass.”

  “No way,” one of the men replied. “It’s been snowed in since the beginning.”

  She didn’t look for the guy. “I promise you, we made it across. You’ll find park employee Tessa and Chester’s truck on the far side. They almost made it…” She didn’t particularly want to discuss their fate.

  “You have news of lost employees?” a man called out from the front porch of the station. It was Randy McTavish, her supervisor. He went on. “Grace Anderson? Is it really you?”

  A lifetime ago she was upset at Randy for not trusting her to do a proper campfire talk, but such trivial things no longer registered. While he came down the steps, her mind raced about how to reply. “I survived,” she said dryly.

  Randy cut through the gathering of NPS uniforms. He arrived in a pressed and clean long-sleeved uniform shirt, with pristine pine-green trousers. She noticed him give her a distasteful once-over, as if he found her filthy uniform repulsive. She’d rolled on the ground several times over the past week and it showed.

  He held out a hand to her. “Welcome back.”

  She gripped it firmly. “Thanks. I’d love to chat about where I’ve been, but I came through the park again to find help.”

  He held up a hand. “You came all the way through the park? Didn’t they stop you at the roadblocks?”

  “There aren’t any. Not at the east gate, anyway. We came through Cody.”

  Randy bit his lip. “Dang. They told us there were roadblocks on every route in.”

  “There needs to be,” she replied, getting into her old job description for a moment. “We found a family standing next to Old Faithful. Ash and I had to clear them out before it exploded. The water spray isn’t like before. Now it goes up about five hundred feet and it lands on the observation benches. Someone needs to get out there and block it off.”

  A grumble of voices suggested no one believed her.

  “It doesn’t matter,” she went on, not listening to the doubters. “What I really came here for was to gather park rangers to go with me south to Big Piney. We need to help the citizens of Wyoming and Montana, including members of the Crow tribe I befriended recently, secure the asteroid dig site from TKM. That company is a bunch of monsters. They have to be stopped.”

  Everyone had gone silent. A pinyon jay squawked at her from a nearby tree, as if anxious all her friends clear out so it could come down and check for crumbs.

  Finally, Randy spoke.

  “Is this…your truck?”

  Green River, WY

  The ambush was being carried out to perfection. Ezra watched as grenades fell on or under the remaining trucks down the line. Two of the drivers attempted to get their vehicles moving again, perhaps thinking the remains of the smoke provided a shield, but the hidden enemy focused on them and riddled the drivers with bullets. Within seconds the only truck without dead people was the one he was using as a shield. He pointed to a burger joint across the road. “We’ve got to make a run for it.”

  “No way!” Calvin cautioned. “They’ll cut us down.”

  “They’ll blow us up if we stay here,” Butch replied with a waver in his voice, as if neither option appealed to him.

  Ezra looked over the lip of the cargo bed. He caught a glimpse of movement in a tiny nail salon in the strip mall. At least one gunman was shooting through the broken window. He figured he was fifty yards away, tops. A run into the street without smoke for concealment would be a suicidal option at such a short distance.

  “Maybe we can hold out until the police get here,” Haley suggested.

  Calvin chanced a look over the hood, trying to get his rifle into position. An incoming bullet snapped off the metal, less than a foot from the man’s forehead. “Whoa!” he blurted, immediately retreating. “That was a close one.”

  Butch took over. “Sir, you’ve got to stay down. I’ll peek out the back. Tell you where to find your next target. Pop up for two seconds, shoot, get back down.”

  Calvin didn’t seem anxious to try it again.

  Though she had a weapon, the teen girl hadn’t done anything except crouch against the truck. She stayed next to Haley, who was also forced to hold out there. However, when the younger girl saw Ezra, she tried to hand her pistol over to Haley.

  “Are you sure?” the blonde woman asked.

  Fern nodded, eyes puffy with tears. “I can’t even see.”

  Haley took it, but immediately passed it to Butch. For a second, Butch looked over to Calvin, as if to make sure he wasn’t going to get shot in the back, but when the other man nodded, he pointed the pistol toward the hostiles.

  The large-caliber handgun was almost as loud as a shotgun. Butch fired three times from his position at the rear bumper, but return rounds chased him behind the wheel an instant later.

  Butch laughed. “I made them think twice.”

  “What if they toss another grenade?” Haley asked.

  “We pick it up and throw it back,” Butch said dryly.

  Ezra wasn’t sure if he meant it. Haley seemed to share his confusion.

  A man shouted from the storefront, “Hold your fire! We’re coming out! We won’t shoot if you don’t!”

  Behind them, the other trucks were out of commission. There might have been someone alive, but they were smartly staying hidden. No one was left to return fire except his group. Ezra couldn’t figure out why no one had tossed a grenade at him, getting it over with.

  The five of them looked at each other.

  He oriented on Butch. “Well, partner, what do you say? Is there any way out of this?”

  “Don’t shoot!” a man said from behind a car on the edge of the parking lot in front of the nail salon. The attacking force had sent scouts into the lot to get close to Ezra and the stopped trucks. They didn’t have much time.

  Butch glanced down at his pistol, as if wondering how much it could do against the hidden force. The look on his face suggested it wasn’t going to do much.

  Haley pushed herself off the side of the truck. “Maybe they mean it. You think?”

  “Surrender?” he asked with disbelief.

  She shrugged. “I don’t see what else we can do.”

  He sighed, having come to the same conclusion in his head, but reluctant to admit they’d been cornered so completely.

  “Dammit, E-Z, there are at least a dozen of them. I’ll fight it out if you ask me to, but I don’t think I could keep the rest of you alive. We should see if they’ll accept our surrender. If they’re going to kill us anyway, I’d like to take a few with me.”

  Ezra finished his thought. “But we’ll try to keep everyone alive.”

  Calvin readjusted position so he could see them all. “Are we in agreement? Take our chances with them to keep from getting a face full of grenade?”

  Ezra and Butch nodded immediately, and Haley added her assent a moment later. Fern nodded her head to match Haley.

  “Fine,” Calvin said, seemingly relieved. He turned back to the men. “We surrender!”

  The takedown happened in seconds. Men in black trousers and blue tactical shirts ran around the front and back of the pickup truck. Butch put the pistol on the ground and raised his arms with everyone else. Calvin did the same.

  More shooters came around to their side of the truck. Soon there were six men pointing rifles in their faces. None of them appeared willing to speak until a new guy showed up near the front bumper. “Hello,” he said matter-of-factly.

  Ezra was thrilled he didn’t recognize the man. Though he’d killed mustache guy himself, he’d had nightmares the TKM asshole somehow came back to life and was viciously tracking them down to enact his revenge. The man in front of them didn’t have a mustache, but he did wear a logo on his chest that was almost as big of a problem for them.

  The man continued. “We were watching you when you came out of the hotel this morn
ing. Wanted to make sure you made it into your truck and got where you’re going. That’s our job as forward recon for the boss.”

  “For who?” Ezra asked, not getting it.

  “We work for TKM, of course. We’re here to rescue you.”

  Ezra was shocked beyond his ability to voice words. He naturally wanted to disavow any relationship with TKM, but after the murderous attack in broad daylight, he assumed there would be no prisoners. Before answering, he slowly turned to the man he’d been trying to convince he wasn’t a member of that organization.

  The look on Calvin’s face suggested Ezra had walked into a new ambush.

  Anticline Ranch, WY

  Petteri realized he needed to get Dorothy alone if she was going to talk about his assets in space. He was blunt in his assessment of his remaining team members. Individually, he trusted them to stay focused on his final mission to collect the ore from the Yellowstone rock. In fact, he needed them all on the same page for it. However, talking about equipment in space was only for those he trusted completely. Dorothy was about ninety-nine percent of the way toward gaining his trust. He figured it was close enough.

  “You were saying about assets in space?”

  Dorothy looked impressed. He’d cleared out all the others, rather than take her out alone. She sat next to him, but still spoke quietly, as if the clearing of people had made her recognize potential security threats. “Yes, I hope you don’t mind, but I’ve been trawling through equipment lists of everything you’ve currently got in the great beyond.” She turned her laptop to face him. “That’s when I came across these.”

  He looked at the screen. It was a spreadsheet of numerical designations, but he knew what they were. “These are the robotic maintenance drones docked in the stable above the moon. They were supposed to be used as tugs when Tuonela was brought to the moon and the Petteri-2 craft needed to be serviced before going back out toward Mars. However, we didn’t use them, since our craft never stopped at the moon.”

  “So, they’re spares, essentially?”

  He chuckled knowingly. The fifty-foot space tugboats were spares, but after the unfortunate events of the past week, he doubted any earthbound government was going to risk another rock being brought out of the asteroid belt. Not that it would stop him from trying. Petteri refocused on her. “Yes, for now. Why?”

  She clapped her hands. “I knew it! I count fifteen docked at the moon, plus three based around the global space station.”

  Petteri nodded. “Yes, the ships are useful for clearing space debris out of the orbital path of their high-dollar research platform. I like to, uh, be charitable to international agencies.” He remembered the press he’d gotten by putting them near the station. On more than a few occasions his team of remote operators had guided the drones to clear out or capture space debris threatening the science facility. It had been his first gold mine. A gold mine of good press.

  She smirked. “And each one has the same engine as you used on the Petteri-2?”

  He immediately saw where she was going. “Yes. I built using modular systems, so every engine was standardized across my little fleet. Each one is nuclear-powered and equally as destructive as the ones used to blow up the asteroid in the first place.”

  “Exactly,” she crowed. “My plan is to gather up your reserve fleet of ships, power up the engines, then drop them on the asteroid bits here on Earth.”

  He was aghast. “Nuke them?”

  She continued to enjoy the moment. “As Ripley from Aliens would say, yeah. Nuke them from orbit. It’s the only way to be sure.”

  He wasn’t familiar with the movie, but the quote made sense. Nuking was a way to be sure the rocks were taken out. That said, he wasn’t sure how dropping nuclear engines on Earth would gain him anything positive. His voice remained tentative. “Go on. How is nuking these sites going to help?”

  She shimmied her chair even closer. “Sir, they’re low yield as nukes go. It wouldn’t blow up more than a few square blocks around them. However, it will accomplish the one goal I know you want more than anything.”

  “What’s that?” he asked, knowing her answer wouldn’t be right.

  “You said it earlier. You want to prevent all the other companies from cutting into your profits. You want to stop them from devaluing each of the ores to the point of being cheaper than sand. If you eliminate all the other pieces, so there is only this one, it would all be yours again. Hell, it might even be worth a lot more than it was before, simply because people will see it as the last of its kind.”

  He leaned back in his chair. She impressed him with her insights into his mindset. All his scheming the past few days was designed to get the ore to market before all the other dig sites could really cut into their treasure chest of ores. Part of that was going to be served by having competing companies fighting over each location; he was keen to ensure those flashpoints remained hot. However, the part he could control was right in front of him. Getting the ore to the trains, getting it to a refinery, then dumping it onto the global markets.

  Nuking those sites would definitely slow down the extraction process. It would give him all the time in the world to mine his rock. But still, the risks were insane.

  “Tell me, Dorothy, when you came up with this novel idea, how did you intend to convince the world this wasn’t the last desperate act of TKM? If they found out we were talking about this, my company would be ruined.”

  She giggled. “Sir, it’s easy. Can you think of anyone from our meeting who seemed a bit unhinged? Someone who might do absolutely anything to get revenge for what those people did to her husband?”

  He steepled his fingers at the edge of the table.

  “As a matter of fact, I can…”

  Chapter 5

  Teton National Park, WY

  It took Grace ten minutes to explain each dent and scrape on her truck. Randy stood next to her with a pen and clipboard, dutifully logging her escapades as if she’d failed a driving test.

  “And you couldn’t have avoided the plane?” he asked in a mocking voice.

  Randy McTavish was a lifer in the park service. He was pushing fifty, his receding hairline carefully hidden by his hat, with tired, flabby skin from too many tans. He also had disturbingly pungent bad breath, borne from years of smoking. When he spoke from nearby, she had to move a few feet to escape his dragon’s breath.

  “At the time I was more worried about the man who wanted to kill me.”

  “Ah, yes, the man who put the bullet hole in your windshield, too. It does seem you have a lot of—” He noticed sunlight coming into the cargo bed from the fist-sized hole in the roof. “Holy shit on a shingle! What caused that?”

  She couldn’t stop herself from laughing. The entire process was a joke. A week ago, when he was sitting in the back row of her first solo campfire talk, she’d been terrified of how he would judge her and critique every mistake. Now, after brushing against the wall of the afterlife for so many days, she had no fear of the man at all. Without fear, she realized she held no respect for him, either. “Yeah, well, here’s something I didn’t know. Military helicopters unleash these big machine gun rounds with fiery tracers. One of them came through my truck, nearly hitting my gas tank. Can you imagine what this vehicle would have looked like if that had happened?”

  Some of the gathered rangers laughed with her, but not Randy. He gawked at the hole in the roof, then his eyes followed a line to the cargo floor, where the companion hole was located. Since the windows were busted out, it made it easy to see into the back. “What the hell?”

  Grace stood on her tiptoes to look inside, though she was certain what had him enthralled. “Those are the guns we’ve been collecting. The big one is Finnish, from World War II.” She’d forgotten the model number Misha had rattled off.

  All the rangers crowded around to see it. Many whistled as if impressed, though some also scoffed with obvious disapproval. It had never crossed her mind while she worked at the park, but not all o
f them were the type of gun-friendly people she’d been with lately. Unlike before, such a fearful attitude could get them killed out in the world.

  Randy struggled for words. “You’re leading some type of rebellion. Having this much firepower isn’t normal. It can’t even be legal!”

  “Actually,” she began, “lots of people would say I’ve got a nice starter kit, but not a proper collection. As I said, the TKM jerks have hand grenades, helicopters, machine guns, and who knows what else. It’s the reason I came back. We need everyone in the area to gang up on the dig site and take it out.” She didn’t know the military jargon to describe what she wanted, but her point was made.

  He wrote some more things on his clipboard, but soon Randy slid it under his arm. After a brief look to the gathered rangers, he cast his eyes on Grace. “I know this has been the most unusual week in the history of our park, and I do appreciate you helping tourists escape the forest fire, but almost every minute beyond that has been wasted on non-park-related activities. Billings. Crow Agency. Denver. You could have gotten yourself killed a dozen times over.” He pointed to the gaping hole in the roof. “And getting yourself tangled with the military is not proper ranger behavior.”

  “It wasn’t the military shooting. It was an assassin.” She kept her voice level and professional, though it was becoming clear Randy didn’t believe her.

  “Whatever,” he blurted. “Until we get this figured out, and make amends with whoever you’ve harmed out there, I’m going to put a hold on your probationary period. This is simply too serious to allow to go on without some kind of…of…penalty.”

  Grace would have to make a serious effort to care less about his threats today, though she never wanted to be a park ranger more in her entire life. As long as he didn’t threaten to put her in jail, she was fine with whatever he said.

  She returned to what she wanted. “We can discuss that all later. Right now, you have to talk to your bosses. Get them to organize a force of park rangers. We’re the perfect people to go to the dig site and keep the peace.” She meant take it over but didn’t think it would sound as polished. Randy was already on edge about all the damage she’d caused.