Impact (Book 2): Bounce

by Isherwood, E. E.

  The two rangers didn’t even look back. They hopped out and went over to the parking lot, ready to speak with the other drivers. It left her alone with the hitman.

  “Where did you get another gun?” she asked immediately.

  The man spoke good English with only a hint of his Russian accent. “You think I would only have one? I carry many in my truck. You want to give me that one, and the one you took from me?” He eased the gun out of his suit jacket and pointed it at her. He’d changed out of his red shirt, though signs of the burns were evident on his left hand and forearm, as well as the left side of his face and head. It appeared painful.

  She delicately pulled the Glock out of her police belt and handed it over. “Your old gun is back in my truck,” she lied, thinking fast. “I don’t carry multiple pistols around as part of my job, like you apparently do.” She assumed since he didn’t shoot her on sight, he wasn’t going to kill her in the moment.

  Misha’s eyes seemed to search her face for evidence of the lie, but she stood firm. As brave as her façade was, she did shiver involuntarily, perhaps from being scared, but also from the bitter cold.

  He went on. “I will take your bear spray, too. No sense giving you the temptation to burn me again.”

  She unclasped the bear spray from her belt and did as instructed. The only thing left in the belt was the multitool; a set of pliers probably wasn’t much of a threat to him. “So, what are we going to do now? Are you going to kill me? If you do, Asher will get the gun, come over here and kill you back.”

  Misha’s laugh was relaxed. “You are making an elephant out of a fly.” He paused. “Where I come from, it means you are exaggerating. I have watched the kid traveling with you several times yesterday. He is less of a threat to me with a gun than you are without one. That is why I talk to you, not him.”

  “What do you want?” she asked.

  “You have put me in a delicate spot. You saved my life by warning me about the shooting star last night. I was able to find shelter when the fireball lit up the sky. It reminded me of the Chelyabinsk meteorite back in my home country. I would have been dead if I stayed out in the open.”

  It ripped her conscience in half to hear him thank her for keeping him alive. She’d told him about the meteorite as an effort at delaying him until she could use the bear spray. At the time, it had nothing to do with saving his life, and much to do with saving her own.

  “I saved your life twice, actually. I took your gun and could have shot you in the head before we went to our shelter.”

  Misha smiled sympathetically; a distant rumble of thunder sounded at the same time. “You are not a killer. Murdering a man is not in your blood. You are not soft like your boyfriend, but you are a typical American woman.”

  She wanted to yell and scream and tell him how wrong he was, but his gun was trained on her. Still, she couldn’t let him toss the accusation without a minimum of pushback. “I would have had a good reason; you killed that police officer in cold blood.”

  “Did he die? I was not trying to kill him. I had no desire to involve others. If you would not have brought him into our game, he would still be unhurt. My only targets are you and Mr. Creighton.”

  There was an element of truth to his statement; it was her fault for trying to get the officer to help. She couldn’t say for sure he was dead, though he certainly looked as if he was severely injured. However, Misha was the one who pulled the trigger, not her. Grace took a few steps back and forth to warm up, giving her time to think of a measured response.

  “Why do you have to kill anyone at all? Let us go down this mountain and get on with our lives. In case you haven’t noticed, the world has gone to pot.”

  His face went slack, as if thinking about her offer. A few moments later, he recovered. “I am afraid it is not that easy. My boss wants you both out of the picture—”

  “Why?” she pressed.

  “Does not matter!” he snapped.

  Grace’s meowing ringtone cried out, startling her. She reached in her pocket and yanked out the device, intending to answer it, when Misha shifted anxiously on the back seat until he sat up straight. He aimed the gun at her hand, speaking again without using words.

  “This could be my dad,” she said worriedly.

  “No. You cannot talk to anyone. If you do, this little ongoing discussion we have here, it will move into a more, how you say, bloody form of persuasion.”

  The cat’s meow got louder with each ring, sparking a what-am-I-dealing-with head shake from the injured man. In the back of her mind, she thought it was probably a bit childish to keep the cat sounds, but she’d always wanted a cat, an animal she was prohibited from owning inside the national park. She tilted the phone to see the Kentucky area code. It had to be her mom and dad trying to reach her. Their voices were so close…

  Misha went on, actually sounding interested in convincing her on the merits of his request. “Listen, I owe you one for saving my life—”

  “Twice,” she reminded him.

  He smiled. “Twice. But I am telling you right now, if anyone outside of this little group of lost drivers finds out you are still alive, more people are going to die.”

  “You don’t give up, do you? What’s your plan? Kill everyone on this mountain?” He’d been shooting at them in Mammoth Hot Springs and in the crowded visitor village; she was well aware the man had no hesitation endangering others, so it was risky to suggest it.

  The gunman shrugged, which seemed to cause him pain on his burned neck and arm. Grace took a tiny bit of pleasure in seeing him hurt, especially after recalling how he’d killed the officer.

  She held up her phone, so the speaker pointed at him, as if it were the cat complaining about his interference, not her. The meow became obnoxiously loud as it reached the last ring.

  “I have hard time believing you two are threat to TKM. I would shoot my own mobile if I had to listen to that cat,” he lamented.

  “We’re not threats!” she replied excitedly. “And these rings serve a useful purpose. They help me hear the incoming calls without using big-city noises while I’m in the wilderness,” she explained. “It’s not supposed to get to these loud ones…”

  “Still, I must take it off your hands,” he said in an ominous voice, holding out a hand.

  She thought about running, or tossing the phone, or calling for help, or further pleading her case. Anything to avoid surrendering it. Then she noticed he had the barrel of his gun trained on her NPS badge. One shot and she’d be dead…

  “You aren’t going to shoot it, are you?” she asked, defeated.

  He shook his head. “I said I would shoot my mobile. Not yours.”

  “Please don’t lose it,” she went on, handing it over, praying his intention wasn’t to destroy it another way. “It’s my only link to my mom and dad.”

  The phone rang again, starting the ascending cat meow sequence a second time. Someone really needed to speak with her. He glared at the whiny phone like it was a kitty cat that had pooped in his hand. The look did not inspire confidence she’d ever get to answer it again.

  Land Between the Lakes, KY

  Ezra was disappointed to hear his call go to voicemail, but he made a snap decision to leave a message at the beep. “Hiya, Grace. It’s me. I was really hoping I’d catch up with you, rather than talking to your machine, but you know Mom and I don’t have cell phones, so I’ve borrowed this one from a friend. All I wanted to say is…”

  Should he tell her about Susan on a recording? It seemed like a low blow.

  “All I wanted to say was, thanks to your warning, we got to safety last night. It passed overhead, heading to the south, I think. Anyway…your mother and I love you very much. Please be safe wherever you are. I’m on the way to you right this second.”

  Again, he thought about telling her the truth, but the words wouldn’t come out.

  “I’ll talk to you as soon as I can. Love you.”

  Ezra hung up the phone and immedi
ately felt he’d let his daughter down. There was no telling how long it would be before he found a direct connection to her. Instead of saying what needed said, he acted like everything was all right.

  He looked sheepishly at Colby, who stood about ten feet away. “Do you mind if I call her back? I forgot to tell her something important.”

  “Call as much as you want. I don’t mind.”

  Ezra dialed Grace’s number, and it rang again before going to voicemail. He took a deep breath and steeled himself for the beep.

  “Hi Grace. I’m so sorry for calling back like this, but there’s more you should know. Because of the world we live in, and all this business with meteorites, I’m not sure when I’ll get a chance to talk to you again.” He paused for a long time before committing. “Your mother died last night, Gracie. She died saving the life of a little girl before the house was hit with a shockwave. I’m sorrier than I can possibly convey over a phone…”

  He choked up, unshed tears making him pause again.

  “Anyway, don’t let this news get you down. Your mother died a hero. I’m certain she passed that trait to you. Be a hero, Grace. Be a hero so you can survive long enough for me to get out there and give you a hug in person. I have to go. I love you more than I’ll ever be able to tell you. Bye for now.”

  The bikers arrived in camp as he hung up Colby’s phone. After taking it back, Colby invited everyone to gather around an open-air canopy. On the walk over, Butch gave him a manly pat on the back.

  “You did the right thing, E-Z. She needed to know about her mother.”

  “I wanted to tell her face-to-face, but—”

  Butch cut him off. “But we can’t pass on opportunities this big. You’re lucky you made contact with her at all.”

  He knew it was true, but the pain of Susan’s death was raw, as was the notion of thinking about Grace listening to his message. She’d be heartbroken and she’d have no one to comfort her.

  Colby waved him and Butch in. “We’re getting an official broadcast on the shortwave.”

  The Jeepers were well-prepared. They had a small shortwave radio set up on a picnic table. It was linked to a giant whip antenna attached to the leg of the tent canopy. The broadcast came in clear.

  “This is Petteri Tikkanen, of Tikkanen Kinetic Mining. We have been authorized by the Department of Homeland Security to supplement emergency services to all affected areas now hearing this transmission. We have trucks of every size heading to you at this moment, each packed with food, clean water, and supplies designed to keep you safe during this period of disruption. Concurrently, the United States government will also be sending in National Guard units to keep all of you safe.”

  The people gathered around the table spoke as one, thinking it was over, then shut up when the man continued. “Listen to this channel for how to locate the nearest Federal Emergency Management Agency Safe Towns, or FEMASTs. These safe towns are designated to help you identify where to find security. In these troubled times, nothing is more important than your safety. Until we speak again, I’m Petteri Tikkanen.”

  Bedlam erupted around the table again. People wanted to leave, stay, and hunt down the man who’d spoken. Ezra realized the speech had changed the dynamics of the small tribe of Jeepers he’d found himself a part of.

  Colby quieted everyone down. “Guys, this is good news. It means someone out there is in charge, with the ability to help us. That said, it doesn’t change much here on the ground. I still want to send the ladies home on the dirt bikes.”

  A brunette woman closed ranks with Colby, leading Ezra to speculate she was going to complain about not wanting to leave. She was dressed in a white one-piece jumpsuit, though it was covered front and back with mud. The only parts of her body free of dirt were her face and hair; it had been protected by her helmet. “Just tell me who’s going, dear, and I’ll get them there.”

  Colby smiled at the woman. “That’s my girl. When you get home, send Jack and the boys back here with some food, okay?”

  “I will,” she replied.

  “And you’ll have two helpers.” Colby pointed to him and Butch. “These boys are going your way. They’re going to watch over you with their rifles until you get home. Then, they’ll head off to Yellowstone.”

  Ezra waved at the woman but glanced over to Colby. “We can’t carry our bicycles with us. Do you think we could borrow a couple when we get to your home?”

  “Yeah, sure. Hell, if you’re in the market, I could sell you a couple of old touring motorcycles. Val will put you in touch with my dad. She’ll make sure he gives you a good deal.”

  He didn’t have much to his name, but he did have his wallet. All he needed was an ATM to withdraw some funds. Having a legitimate means of transportation, versus the rental car he’d originally envisioned, would give them a lot more flexibility. Motorcycles had already proved useful in getting around all the downed trees. Who knew how bad the roads were out there?

  Ezra held out his hand to shake Colby’s in front of his people. He was about to hitch his wagon to their cause, and he wanted them all to know he intended to make good on his promise. “We’ll protect your riders until we get them safely home.”

  Colby took his hand. “You guys are doing us a solid. I hope you get to where you’re going.”

  “So do we,” Ezra replied.

  Isla Socorro, Mexico

  Petteri drove to the airport after his speech. His words were being broadcast to radio stations across America, as well as on television, cable, and on shortwave frequencies designed to reach every last person in the disaster zone. At the same time, he already had his mining crews on the roads or in helicopters, searching out the largest intact pieces of the asteroid. Dorothy was working on the satellite imagery, trying to locate the optimal location from above.

  The PR goodwill was designed to give his people cover to go in and poke around.

  Dorothy and Howard waited for him on the back ramp of the waiting transport plane. The company trucks and gear were already loaded in the cargo hold, which put him in a great mood as he exited his ride.

  “Hello to you both,” he remarked as he walked over to them. “Howard, what did you do with the two cleanup teams sent to assist Misha? I’d like to divert them to crash sites, if possible. I’ll need some, uh, local talent, on scene to ensure the TKM flag flies tall on those pieces.”

  United States law was very clear about ownership rules of meteorites, at least up until the previous session of Congress. His lawyers and lobbyists had spent considerable time and money creating the ability to waive the permitting process for collection of asteroid remains. Since he intended to crash rocks onto the moon’s surface, he needed to be sure there would be no legal claims on his treasure. The bill eventually laid out the case that any asteroid brought to Earth’s system under the power of man-made propulsion would forever belong to the owner of those engines. It did not specifically say it had to crash to the moon; he’d considered opening factories in high orbit around Earth, too. His lawyers assured him the language of the bill favored his right to mine the asteroid pieces no matter where they ended up, including on the surface of the Earth itself. Sending his teams to each location was his way of enforcing those legal claims.

  “I was going to send one team to meet and pick up Misha, but I can pull the other out immediately. I only need to know where to send them.”

  He glanced over to Dorothy, somewhat impressed at her transformation. When he met her in Texas, she was dressed like a bag lady, in a pleated black skirt with a frumpy crisscross-patterned top. Now, her black hair was up in a bun, she’d put on some makeup, and her stylish black business suit was more befitting of someone on his payroll. “What do you think, Dorothy?”

  “There is still too much smoke over the big impact zones to say for sure. I think we’ll have better luck with the teams who can visually inspect those locations for high-value ores.” She fidgeted with her fingers as she held her hands together at her waist.

&nb
sp; “I pay you a lot of money, Ms. Eversmith. Can you give me your best guess? This plane has to go somewhere, you understand?”

  She looked up and swallowed hard. “I’ve been seeing the most at the impact crater in the city of Denver. The city itself is toast, which is the cause of most of the fires there, but we’ve had a few brief glimpses below the dust and debris in the air. There’s definitely a big piece.”

  “Intact?” he asked with hope in his voice.

  “Yes, sir. I think it is mostly intact.”

  It would be far easier to stake his claim on a big piece, rather than a lot of little ones across a wide area. She’d given him some fantastic news.

  Petteri golf-clapped. “I congratulate both of you. None of this was planned, but you have both executed what you could. It should be enough to get the rest of our people to these sites and begin the rescues.”

  “You’re helping the people?” Dorothy asked with surprise.

  She’d learn.

  “Of course, my dear. We have the resources to help, and so we’ll help. However, thanks to your keen observations, we’ll also be close by the asteroid chunks for when the time comes to clean them up. I don’t think there’s anything wrong with being ready for each step in this process, do you?”

  She shook her head. “No problems here. I only want to make sure I get paid. If what I’m seeing on the satellite images are any indication, it’s going to be Mad Max out there sooner rather than later.”

  “It’s bad?” he asked seriously.

  “Yep. They’ll be ecstatic to see your TKM relief trucks. I promise you that.”

  He chuckled. I’m sure they will.

  Chapter 13

  Beartooth Pass, WY

  When Grace got back in the truck, her entire body shivered for about thirty seconds. The heater was on full blast, and the fans in the dashboard whined loud with effort as she held her hands to the vents. Asher didn’t say anything while she recovered, which was unusual. She slowly scooted sideways to see his face; he was staring at her.