Impact Series Box Set | Books 1-6

by Isherwood, E. E.

  “What did you find out there?” she asked as he plopped into the chair swing next to her.

  “I’ll tell you what I didn’t find: a lot of people happy to see me snooping around. At first, I told our neighbors I only wanted to talk to them to see if they were all right, but they always seemed suspicious once I mentioned the meteorite coming down tonight. Eventually, I figured out Babs had already gone around to most people’s houses and explained everything was hunky-dory out there. And you aren’t going to believe this, I’m sure, but she mentioned I was no longer a member of the subdivision, so they needed to be wary of me.”

  Susan drew in a deep breath, then let it out. “That woman needs help. I don’t think she has any idea what she’s doing, so she’s reverting to the same gossipy nonsense she’s always done.”

  If Grace’s abrupt departure was the trigger that set off some of Susan’s more recent panic attacks, Brenda Bower was the catalyst for anger in his own life. And that was saying a lot; hardly anything got Ezra riled up. He’d dealt with idiots in the postal service for twenty years, and they were his fellow workers, not the patrons. But once Babs became the head of the subdivision, it was like she’d found satisfaction in lording over men like Ezra. At first he laughed it off. It only took one letter from a lawyer to convince him she had a little authority behind her.

  From that point forward, it was game on for Ezra. He’d done everything he could to make life as difficult as possible for the trustees. He’d let his grass get to five-and-a-half inches before cutting it; the limit was six. After she’d ordered him to repaint his dock slats from light gray to light tan, as per the rules, he took a whole summer to finish the paint job. And he was always at the subdivision meetings to argue with her about minutiae, to give her grief and prove the power was mainly in her head. Though he’d never admit it to Susan, moving to Wyoming had as much to do with escaping the Happy Cove rule book as it did with seeing Grace.

  “I need you to stick around in this house, Suze. If I go out, you have to stay here. Sit out on the porch and have your AR nearby. Babs was nosing around about Ethel, and we can’t keep her hidden for much longer. We should cover her up, like we did Roger. Once she knows we’re squatting here, I bet my last bullet she gives us grief about it.”

  Susan reached over and put her hand on his thigh. “I don’t want to fight with our neighbors. We’ve built up a lot of friendships here. You don’t think they’d really push us out, do you?”

  “Not all of them, no, but Babs has people riled up. It seems like no one in the subdivision believes me, no matter how long I’ve known them. If we want to help those people up on the roadway, she’s going to make it as difficult as possible. It wouldn’t surprise me if she’s gone up there and told them to watch out for me.”

  “How would that be different than any other time?” Susan laughed.

  “Don’t worry,” Ezra said with assurance. “I’ve been thinking; once we get through this, we’ll borrow Roger’s Cherokee and take it to Wyoming. Then we can put this nightmare behind us. We’ll send postcards to the few friends we have left, and I’m going to draw my hand on a piece of paper, showing it giving the finger. That’s what I’ll send to Babs.”

  They shared a laugh.

  “Promise me we’ll go to Wyoming as soon as we can. This is no longer our home, and I don’t mean because we’re at Roger and Ethel’s. The neighborhood isn’t the quiet, happy place it used to be. I want to…” She choked up. “I want to see my Gracie again.”

  He reached over and comforted her. As stubborn as she was, he knew she’d felt snubbed by Grace’s phone call. It made him hopeful both of his ladies could swallow their pride and admit to each other what they’d been telling him on the sly: that they loved each other despite their disagreement.

  “You will, dear,” he said quietly.

  “Swear to me we’ll see her again.”

  He looked her in the eye. “I swear it.”

  On flight to TKM Pacific Launch Facility

  A few hours into his flight, Petteri did his best to relax on his private jet. The swept-wing twin-engine jet headed for TKM’s alternate launch site, which was a desolate island three hundred miles west of Mexico, in the Pacific Ocean. The news broadcast showed a live feed from the Petteri-2 as Captain Davis explained how they were preparing to light up the engines and ease the captive asteroid into orbit around the Earth. The ditzy woman serving as today’s talking head sounded like a flirtatious high school girl thanks to how she talked to the spaceship pilot. It made him sick to watch, even as he kept in mind how it was all part of an intricately planned ballet of public relations.

  The attendant kept his Scotch glass full, and she provided similar service, minus the alcohol, to Howard and the new woman, Dorothy Eversmith. His plane had all the finest accoutrements, including wireless access, hot towel service, and plush seats that were better than any airline’s first class. It was the flying version of his comfortable office space back in Texas, though there was too much going on to truly find comfort.

  He pressed a red button on his arm rest, and Howard appeared in the aisle. “Tell me what’s going on with the Yellowstone project. I thought it would be wrapped up hours ago.”

  Howard shifted the weight on his feet, obviously uncomfortable with the line of questioning. He would never fire the man, given his expertise and efficiency, but he wouldn’t tell him that. It was better to have him scared for his job all the time.

  “Sir, they’re holing up in a police station. My man says there aren’t any officers coming or going, but he can’t see inside. He swears he can see both exits from his position, so there’s no way they can get out without being seen.”

  “So, your man is waiting them out?” Petteri replied matter-of-factly.

  “That’s the plan.”

  “What about the second man?” he asked. “You said you had two teams on it.”

  Howard clenched his jaw before replying. “I do—well, I did. There was a big fire in the park. We think he might have gotten caught up in it.”

  “Hmm.” He glanced at the video screen, noting how well that facet of his operation was going according to plan. The news people fawned over the captain and his team, assuming everything was going swimmingly up in space. Meanwhile, down on terra firma, he had one thorn which refused to come out of his foot. He spoke low, so as not to worry little Dorothy. “We don’t have time to do this the safe way, especially if your second man is gone. Tell your guy to go inside and do whatever it takes. They could be on the phone with this television bimbo right now.” He pointed to the screen. “We need to be sure.”

  “I, uh, will tell him, sir.” Howard did his best to sound confident, but Petteri heard his hesitation, so he decided to ramp up the pressure.

  “Howard, once the Yellowstone situation clears up, you will be the only person on Earth who knows the full story. I trust you with this information because I know you get the job done. Doesn’t that make you feel good?”

  “Yes, sir,” he replied, audibly struggling to sound confident.

  It was time to put it all on the line. “Very good. Now, instill that same sense of urgency to your man on the ground. He’s the one guy who can fix a mission-critical problem for me. The next time we hear from him, it better be good news.”

  “Understood.”

  Chapter 13

  Yellowstone

  Asher tapped Grace’s shoulder. “Hey, you awake? I think we need to go.”

  “What’s up?” she replied. After being refused the gun, she and Asher had spent the better part of the afternoon inside the empty police station, sure an officer would eventually come back. Instead, the situation outside only grew worse as the hours passed by. The legendary Yellowstone gridlock went bonkers, as if tourists sensed they were almost out of time to see the sights of the park. If there was a disaster back in the real world, why not get a few more photos before heading home?

  Grace and Asher took shifts keeping watch for the blue mining truck;
both caught a few snores while the other looked outside. Asher went back to the window after ensuring she was awake, cigarette in hand. “I think I see the TKM truck. It’s weaving through traffic and it’s coming this way.”

  “He wouldn’t come in here, would he?” Grace got to her feet and glanced at Tessa. “Do you have a weapon?”

  The woman with gray and black hair shook her head. “Naw. No one will mess with us in here.” She went back to the game of solitaire on her computer; she played it between 9-1-1 service calls from the outside. In the short time Grace had listened to the woman work the phone, it sounded like a lot of requests went unanswered. No matter how big the emergency, police units couldn’t pick up traffic and move it aside.

  She got closer to Asher so the other woman wouldn’t hear. “We can’t let him come in here. If he does, all three of us will be at his mercy. I don’t know about you, but that’s not how I plan to go out.”

  They both peeked around the edge of the window.

  A breath caught in her throat. “He’s here.”

  Misha had parked the truck along the curb, remaining inside like he was deciding where to go. It shouldn’t have been a tough choice; her beat-up park service SUV sat on the sidewalk in front of the police station. Belatedly, she realized her hasty parking job was a flashing beacon for anyone looking for them. The only reason the security man hadn’t found them sooner was that he’d chosen to drive his truck. It probably took him a full hour to go the quarter of a mile from the visitor center to the station, since tourists flooded all the streets.

  Grace hastened to the counter. “Tessa, are you sure you can’t get us some weapons? We won’t take them out of here. There’s a man out there who’s got a gun and we believe he’s coming in here to harm my friend.” She pointed over her shoulder to Asher.

  “I can’t, sweetie. It’s against the rules. Did the man point a gun at you, or otherwise threaten violence?”

  “No, but—”

  Tessa huffed. “There. See? Probably just your imagination. Wyoming is also an open carry state; it’s perfectly fine to walk around with a pistol on your belt, though they legally can’t fire them inside the park. I told you, no one is coming into a police station.” She went back to her game, immediately cursing as if she’d made a mistake.

  Grace wondered if it would have been all right to lie in order to get what she wanted. She could have said Misha pulled the gun on them or fired it. But telling lies wasn’t high up on the park ranger oath; it also went against everything her mom and dad had instilled in her.

  “Can you at least get one for yourself?” she pleaded.

  Tessa turned all the way around on her swivel chair. “No. If there’s trouble, I’ll call in one of the officers. That’s protocol.” She seemed to get upset with Grace, though there wasn’t any time to ask her why. The phone rang, and Tessa had to take it.

  “9-1-1, what’s your emergency?” After a short pause, the woman added. “No. All of our officers are busy.”

  I guess you don’t see the problem here, do you?

  If Misha walked through the door with a gun, how was the dispatcher going to get an officer to come save her? Grace didn’t let the setback get her down, though it miffed her to know the police couldn’t protect her.

  Grace went back to Asher, who’d never left the window. “Is he still there?”

  “Yes. I get the feeling he’s watching us. Waiting for backup, maybe.”

  “Then we have to leave,” she replied. “It’s the only way to protect the police lady.” She motioned back to Tessa and rolled her eyes, hating the thought she knew more about defensive awareness than someone who dealt with lawbreakers all the time.

  Asher crouched low and went to the far side of the window, then he pointed away from Misha. “I say we make a run for it back toward the hot springs. There are so many people over there, we could blend in and never be found. Then, maybe we double back and get your truck. While you were sleeping, I talked to my, uh, source again. Things aren’t getting any better up in space. We really need to get somewhere safe.”

  She’d sent his warning to her parents without giving much thought to herself. The meteorite chunks weren’t supposed to arrive for several more hours, and it was hard to plan beyond the man with a gun. Yet, the large crowds and Asher’s idea made her realize there might be a way to help everyone at the same time.

  “Okay, we’ll go out the back door,” Grace said, making up her mind. “He shouldn’t be able to see us escape.”

  “And if he comes in here looking for us?”

  Grace picked her hat off the countertop and planted it on her head. She’d put her uniform shirt back on, so she looked like a proper park ranger again. “I hope he’ll leave her alone once it’s clear we’re not here.”

  Asher took a deep breath. “We could run out the front door to make absolutely sure he sees us leave. That would ensure there’s no chance the guy will come in here.”

  Grace was surprised by the suggestion, and almost dismissed it out of hand, before she took a few moments to think it over. Was it the right thing to do? They could easily shield themselves while putting Tessa in a bit of risk. Or, they could endanger themselves, and keep Tessa’s risk down to almost nothing. It would have been easier if the woman acted more logical about their dilemma, but she was steadfast in dismissing all of Grace’s worries. It was likely a result of her only being a ranger trainee, a fact she’d yet to tell Asher.

  She glanced out the front window to make sure Misha wasn’t close, then she headed for the front door. Right or wrong, she had to do her best to protect the clueless woman. She sighed on the way. “Let’s go, before I change my mind.”

  Together, they went through the front door.

  Kentucky

  Ezra did his best to stay busy and out of sight of the subdivision president. As promised, he went over to his boat dock and wrapped up Ethel. He decided to chance moving her along the shore so she and her husband would share the same dock. Several of his neighbors owned or had access to heavy equipment, such as tractors. Over the years he’d seen them in operation all over the neighborhood. He assumed one of them would help him dig graves, if the time came. Still, he held out hope the authorities would come around and collect bodies, so wrapping them in sheets seemed like a solid delaying tactic.

  It gave him plenty of time to think up a plan for what he was going to do for the people on the blacktop road at the top of the hill. Though they weren’t his immediate neighbors, he couldn’t let them come to harm from the impending meteorites heading their way without trying to help. However, by the end of the afternoon, he wasn’t sure if inviting strangers into their home was all that smart; he sought more opinions.

  “I’m heading next door for a few,” he said to Susan. “I’m going to talk to the Burgess clan to see what they think about helping those folks out there.”

  “And what if they say no?” she asked, always pragmatic.

  He could hardly believe anyone would say no, though he wondered if his attitude would be different if he still had all his prepper gear and food supplies. Would having more stuff somehow change his perception of those helpless people on the roadway? He allowed it might make him more wary, but it wouldn’t make him heartless.

  He’d do anything to help move people on the road, so they could go on their way to safety, but a rock was coming down in hours. There was nowhere to send them. “They won’t say no,” he said dryly.

  Ezra carried that belief all the way to the Burgess’s kitchen table. After he sat down and engaged in the obligatory small talk, he delivered the news.

  “I’m going around to my neighbors to ask if you’d be willing to let some of the women and children up on the blacktop come into your basement for the night?”

  “Are you serious?” Clyde Burgess replied with disdain thick in his voice. He was a retired banker from Chicago. He and his wife were one of the wealthier couples in the neighborhood, though they were best known for their feud with Roger
and Ethel. They liked to park their giant RV on the back part of their lot, which blocked the view of the lake for their neighbors. Ezra tended to take Roger’s side on the issue, but he’d never been openly hostile toward Clyde about it.

  “I am. And this has nothing to do with the RV, okay? That’s water under the bridge.” He stole a glance out the back window. The long eyesore remained in the backyard where it always was. “Roger is dead, by the way.”

  Clyde took the news like he’d taken a swig of sour milk. It was as if he’d been prepared to launch into an attack on the man, only to learn of his passing. “I didn’t know that,” he said matter-of-factly. “I’m sorry.”

  “It’s not our biggest problem, Clyde. If there’s another rock about to fall on us, we need to get everyone into the protection of our basements. Your wife, first, of course, but you have plenty of room for fifty more people. That’s fifty people who would owe you their lives.” He tried to appeal to the man’s ego.

  Clyde mulled it over before coming to a conclusion a few seconds later. “Nope. I’ve got to think of Millie. She and I don’t want strangers in our house.”

  He and Clyde went back and forth for a few minutes, during which the other man only hardened his position. Ezra got out of there before he spoke words he’d later regret. Instead of going back to Susan in defeat, he walked to the neighbor on the other side of Roger’s house and rang the doorbell.

  Mrs. Elsworth, one of the street’s many semi-elderly widows, came to the door. “Oh, you again? I already told you everything for your list.”

  He smiled. “I know. I’m afraid I have another favor to ask. There are hundreds of people up on the county road; families fleeing the devastation in Paducah. I’m going around asking if you’d be willing to let some of them into your basement for one night, so if more meteorites hit tonight, they won’t be outside in the destruction.”