Impact Series Box Set | Books 1-6

by Isherwood, E. E.

  “Besides, weren’t you leaving us? I don’t see why we should listen to someone who was planning to be gone today. The rest of us have to live here, you know.” She angled her head almost sideways, and frowned severely, as if to admonish him like she was his mother.

  He didn’t give her the satisfaction of answering. Ezra shot a knowing look to Susan, and they walked from the scene together.

  Bab’s group headed up to the intersection.

  “Can this day get any worse?”

  Chapter 10

  Yellowstone

  Most rangers didn’t walk around with bear spray attached to their hip, but Grace went to the campfire program the previous night intending to be ready for anything. If a bear did stumble out of the woods while she ran her stargazing event, it would get a face full of hot pepper mix to keep it from advancing. It was a survival instinct she picked up from her dad over the years. He was prepared for trouble all the time, even inside his own home. That’s why he kept a small armory in his basement.

  She got his attention. “Sir, before you take him away, can you tell me where he’ll be, just in case I need to follow up with him about the fire he started up in the mountains? It’s still burning, you should know. Is your company going to pay for the damages?”

  “I didn’t start that fire. I told you—”

  Misha put his hand on Asher’s shoulder, which made him wince. “He is going back to Bozeman, of course. We want to question him about the fire as well. I am sure suitable compensation can be arranged if he was on company time.”

  She held the soda-can sized canister behind her back, clearing the safety off the top trigger. The big man was right where she needed him, though he was a little too close to Asher. As Misha pulled his captive to the side, he sneered at her as if he’d won.

  Grace didn’t announce her intention to fire the bear spray. She lifted it in front of her, arm outstretched, and tapped the button for half a second. At two feet, it was impossible to miss, and it went all over Misha’s face.

  “Der’mo!” Misha cursed.

  Asher cried out in surprise, too, as some of the cloud went toward him. At the same time, tourists all around the moose screamed wildly, as if they’d been struck as well. The canister had a range of about fifteen feet, though she’d done her best to get it on Misha’s face, or on the moose behind him.

  She grabbed Asher’s arm as Misha screamed in agony while covering his eyes with his hands. Grace felt terrible some of the tourists were holding their eyes; it wasn’t going to look good on her probationary report card. Asher’s eyes were closed as she guided him away from his captor. “Come with me!”

  Chaos and panic went through the room like lightning, sending everyone running and screaming at the same time. Most of them dashed for the front door, which was the one everyone used to come in, but she went against the flow and headed for the employee and fire exit at the back.

  “What happened?” Asher inquired as people ran in every direction around them.

  She didn’t reply until they were out the back door. He blinked furiously while keeping up with her. “Bear spray. I saw he had a gun and I knew he wasn’t being truthful about his intentions.”

  “You got that right,” he said while blinking furiously. “I thought you were really giving up on me. Thanks for believing me.”

  She stopped once they were in the backyard of the visitor’s center. There were no fences around, and the flat yard was well-tended, so she had a direct view of her truck, still parked in the grass nearby. “You’re welcome. It was the brother thing that gave it away. He wasn’t even trying to be sneaky. I mean, come on, he speaks with an accent!”

  They shared some laughter for a handful of seconds, but when they didn’t move, he immediately got anxious. “Why aren’t we driving away?”

  “The older gentleman working the desk inside isn’t going to be any help to us if guns are involved, so I’m waiting to see if the police arrive. Someone with a gun should be coming to check out what just happened.”

  People still poured out the front door of the brick house, causing those waiting on the front lawn to scatter as well. From her perspective at the back corner of the building, all she saw were the tourists running away from her. After a minute or two had gone by, the number of people dwindled dramatically, which would make her and Asher stand out if they tried to walk away.

  “I don’t hear sirens,” Asher lamented.

  “Me, either. Okay. New Plan. If the police aren’t coming to us, we’ll go to them. We’re going to the police station. It’s not far.” She tugged on his sports jacket. “Head for the truck.”

  Asher’s eyes were red and puffy, but he didn’t seem to be temporarily blinded. He looked to her truck, nodded to her, then ran for it. She followed, ever alert for the man with the gun. If there was one lesson to know about bear spray, it was that it didn’t last forever.

  Kentucky

  Ezra and Susan headed back to Roger’s home after finally completing Babs’s survey of the Happy Cove subdivision. Notes filled his sheet of paper, and he thought he’d done a pretty good job with it, although he’d intended to go out and get some people on his side. He was less than thrilled to hear several of his fellow homeowners give props to Babs, rather than be receptive to his ideas. After he shut the door and it was only him and Susan, he fake-screamed. “This is crazy! How did that old bag get voted into a position of power? She’s not qualified to lead a dog on a leash; how is she leading our neighbors so far astray?”

  Susan chuckled sympathetically. “No one else wanted the job, remember?”

  He ground his teeth together, unwilling to concede the obvious point so readily. She knew his inner workings better than anyone, so she drilled it home.

  “I asked you to run against her, and what did you say?”

  Ezra looked sheepishly at his wife. “I said I had better things to do than compete in a high school drama.” He warmed up to the argument. “That’s all it was with these people. Who has the ugliest lawn? Who rents their docks to outsiders? Who is sleeping up and down the street? It’s worse than high school—it’s middle school.”

  She shrugged. “Some people like living in drama. If you’d won, you’d probably tell everyone to stop whining and solve their own problems. For some, it would have been wonderful, although I think you’d be surprised by the number of folks who always want to be told what to do.”

  He sat on Roger’s recliner, leaning heavily toward the back. “Well, I don’t think now is the time to hold a vote. What should I do?”

  Susan came over and sat on his knee, making him sit up. She wrapped her arms around his neck and faced toward him. “Focus on what you can control. That’s what you always tell me when I get my panic attacks.”

  He’d not brought up the incident in the lake the day before. It was obvious to both of them it was a high-stress situation and if there was ever a right place to freak out, it was after a meteorite struck the nearest town and flipped your boat. Regardless, even with everything going on, he thought of ways to limit her exposure to the worst of his stresses. So far, he’d done a lousy job of it.

  “Hey,” he said brightly while clapping his hands a single time, “why don’t we try calling Grace again? Maybe this time the connection will go through.”

  Susan smiled and a twinkle of mirth appeared in her eyes. “Really? That’s the best you’ve got? Did you think I wouldn’t notice?”

  He feigned ignorance. “What are you talking about?”

  She pushed off the chair and stood up. Instead of stepping away, she clapped her hands one time, right in his face. “This. You’ve got to do better than that, dear husband of mine.”

  He sighed, lifting himself out of the comfortable chair. It was his turn to wrap his arms around her waist. “I’ll work on it.” They embraced in a kiss for half a minute. It was a short respite from the lingering tension from Susan’s attack, the ash heap that was once their house, and what would happen up on the road. When he was
done, he was tempted to clap again, but he knew the time for mirth had passed.

  “Let’s try calling our daughter again,” she suggested.

  Texas

  After the Homeland Security secretary left, Petteri decided it was time to press his people down in the operations room. As he’d done with his phase one team, he went downstairs, intending to pop into their room unannounced and throw them off balance. It was part power trip, but it also served the purpose of getting people to speak from the heart, not the brain. It tended to keep them honest.

  When he opened the door, he was left speechless; only one person was inside.

  “Where’s my team?” Petteri heard what came out of his mouth and realized he sounded consternated, so he straightened his back and spoke with resolve. “There are supposed to be eight geniuses answering my big question. I only see one.”

  A young woman at the far end of the conference table lifted her head above a laptop screen. She looked around, as if hoping someone else would answer the question, but it appeared she was as surprised as he was. “After seeing your data, people have been sneaking out all day. They think we’re doomed.”

  “That’s unfortunate,” he said with disappointment; he’d had high hopes for the best and brightest minds. Petteri walked to the closest phone on the conference table and dialed his man, who immediately picked up.

  “This is Howard.”

  “Yes, I’ve just been informed some of our guests from the operations conference room have stepped out. Would you kindly tell me if you know where they are? I wouldn’t want them to get lost.” Petteri used his polite voice for the sake of the young woman; he remembered she was a Nobel laureate of something or other. Not someone who would likely enjoy knowing how the sausage got made.

  “We caught them leaving in ones and twos, sir. I’ve placed them in the holding room with all the others, including the phase one team. In the absence of new orders, I’ve been following your original directive. No one gets out until you tell me.”

  By Petteri’s estimation, the major was worth his weight in gold; in time, if he could cash in on the contents of the asteroid heading toward Earth, he might even make his executive officer such a statue. He tempered his response, in case the woman was paying attention. It would do no good for her to think anything had happened to the others. “I’m glad they’re safe. We’ll talk about where they’re going next very soon. Thank you. Carry on.” He gently put the phone back in the cradle.

  “Ma’am, did the others say anything before they abandoned you? Why didn’t you go, too?”

  She still peered at him from behind her screen, like a kitten afraid to come out of its hiding spot. It made her seem small and timid, which he assumed was due to who he was. The boss.

  “The others left because they wanted to get back to their loved ones. Your big question, as you say, is a classic Kobayashi Maru scenario.”

  “A what?” he replied with caution.

  “It means this was a no-win situation. You sent us data and asked us to park your big asteroid in orbit around the Earth. If we were brought in the second it missed the moon, maybe we could have worked some magic; at this point, it can’t be done. The Tuonela is going to crash into Earth. That’s why the others left. I, however, stayed for the payout.”

  He’d been careful to take away all methods of communication for the participants; once they knew the risks of failure, they’d naturally try to warn their families and friends. He couldn’t afford such a leak. “So, this is about money for you?”

  She remained in her seat but lifted her head a bit higher. Her straight black hair was parted in the middle, and no effort was made to style it. “If you want me to keep working on this, I’d kindly request all my cash be converted into today’s precious metals market value. I want the physical gold piled right here.” She tapped the table.

  “That seems rather, uh, rudimentary.” He didn’t care either way. A million dollars was spare change to him, no matter if it was bullion or paper money. Petteri found himself more interested in the woman’s frame of mind. “How old are you, if I may ask?”

  “Twenty-seven.”

  “You seem well-seasoned for such a young age. Here you are, brokering deals for your financial future and sticking around when everyone else runs away. I don’t say this very often: I’m impressed.”

  “Thanks,” she said while spinning her laptop around, showing the screen. “I’m also doing all this because of our shared problem. The Petteri-2 is hauling a load of buckshot, sir. If you don’t act before it reaches Earth’s orbit, it will most likely fracture and split, same as it did when it went by the moon. Only this time, the pieces are going to fall down in one big splat.” She hit the heavy marble conference table. “And, right now, that splat is going to take place in the middle of Canada.”

  “No; your task was to defy the numbers. That’s why I brought you all together.” He couldn’t accept his brilliant scheme had run its course. His other scientists—the run-of-the-mill PhDs in the space center—were unable to come up with a stable orbital solution, so he reassured them he had the answer. He’d gone to great lengths to convince them his company would figure it out, just like he’d glossed over the possibility of an impact in his discussion with Mr. Stricker. “I always beat the odds.”

  “Not this time. Your people are still trying to push it away from Earth to find the ideal orbit. It’s too late for that, and, as a result, when you figure out it can’t be done, the rock is going to come down at a steep angle. Like a bullet into the side of a gourd. It’s going to be catastrophic for the planet. Your ship needs to shove it a little toward the Earth, so it hits the proper re-entry window and comes in shallow, like a skipping rock. Once you do that, it will hit where I said—Canada.”

  “On us,” he deadpanned.

  “Either some Canucks die, or the whole world dies. I’m assuming you’ll pick the former; it’s why I stuck around. Either way, I think the American dollar will be worthless soon, so, yeah, I’d like gold.”

  “Intentionally ram the planet?” he whispered to himself. It wasn’t the first time he’d thought about the possibility. Seeing seven empty seats in the conference room brought it into clear, terrible focus.

  “You gotta do what you gotta do,” she said with new confidence.

  “Who the hell are you?” he asked, impressed at her forthrightness.

  “Before I met you, I was Dorothy Eversmith. I won a Nobel for my dissertation on hauling space rocks out of the Edgeworth–Kuiper asteroid belt and crashing them into the moon. It was supposed to power a generation of space and technology exploration. Save the world. That type of stuff. Sound familiar?”

  TKM might have borrowed some of her ideas. He grunted, before she went on.

  “But right now, I’m a woman looking down the barrel of a gun. I figure you’re the one person on Earth who can make this right. And, if you can’t, you’re probably the one guy with a plan to make himself right. Am I close?”

  Petteri picked up the phone again. Howard answered before the first ring completed. “Get the helicopter ready. We’re going to the airport. I’ll have one guest with me.”

  He hung up the phone and smiled. “I always beat the odds.”

  Chapter 11

  Yellowstone

  Asher jumped into the front seat of Grace’s truck and was already looking at her when she climbed in. “Wow. All I can say is wow. You are the best park ranger I’ve ever seen.”

  She started the car with a chuckle. “Be sure to tell my supervisor.” She’d done enough damage to her truck to get kicked out of the park service for sure, and maybe discharging the bear spray in a crowd of people would get her tossed in jail. Any positive feedback from third parties would be helpful to her.

  “I will,” he said with determination, checking his watch again.

  Grace didn’t put the truck in reverse to get back on the street. For one, the TKM truck was behind her. For another, the panicked tourists ran like headless chickens o
n the road, and once they got in their vehicles, that chaos would flow out onto the streets around the visitor’s center. The only way for her to get moving was to go forward on the grass.

  “Buckle up, Asher, we’re doing something else illegal.” She spun the tires on the lawn, causing a slight fishtail of the rear end before Grace straightened it out and took them behind the visitor’s center.

  “I’m ready for anything,” he replied, yanking at the seatbelt as instructed.

  Cultivated grass was an oddity in the national park, though it grew nicely around the visitor’s center and the adjacent Victorian-style homes. Tall, leafy trees dotted the yards of the big stone houses up and down the street, and a second row of houses sat behind the first. Since there were no fences or hedges, she basically had two football fields lined up end to end where she could maneuver. Grace veered the truck to the right, tearing up more of the grass, then headed down the length of the empty backyards.

  “Woo-hoo! We made it out of that scrape.” She checked the rearview, to ensure Misha wasn’t following. While her eyes were on the mirror, she noticed soot smudges on her cheeks, but was more concerned with her hair. She’d gotten it cut shorter than she was used to when she’d started at Yellowstone earlier in the summer. Now it was down to her shoulders and in need of a trim. It was supposed to be up, so it would stay in her hat, but a few blonde locks hung below the brim in ratty knots. “Jeez, I’m a real mess. I—”

  Her phone rang, or more accurately, it meowed.

  Asher snickered. “Seriously? Is that your official park ranger ringtone?”

  “Shut up,” she replied, full of mirth.

  She held the wheel with one hand while pulling the device from her pocket. Each series of rings got louder, as if the cat was demanding her attention. Her heart leapt when the number on the screen carried a Kentucky area code; it could be her mom and dad.