“We’re dead,” Butch remarked. He’d peeked his head up in time to see six or seven barges laden with coal approaching at about a hundred yards in front of them. The floating ones were lashed to three or four trailing barges, though they’d taken on water and appeared to be sinking. The whole mess spun toward the turbulence, though the sunken portion was going to be closest to their pontoon boat.
“Yeah, it’s gonna be close. Got to cut it close,” Ezra croaked.
When he neared, it became obvious there were other barges behind the half-sunken row. It must have been a long fleet of barges before some of them sank; the rear ones had tipped out most of their coal, but they struck Cairo’s buildings and houses in the deep water, sending more debris to the surface.
There was no way to go all the way around it. If he went to the left, he’d probably get consumed by the hungry fountain of the river. If he tried to go right, he risked hitting all the parts of Cairo shooting to the surface. The only way was across the half-submerged middle.
We’re going for it.
The lead row of barges got sucked into the thrashing water jets, churning garbage pile, and roiling spray of dead trees. Sounds like gunshots resonated from the lashing ropes holding the containers together; the first row split apart as they went into the vortex. Broken or not, the front barges rose up on the mammoth waves, pulling the train of cargo containers with it. The middle began to shoot out of the water, signaling he was out of time.
“Now!” he shouted.
Before the middle rose too high, he sped the pontoon over the back ends of the first two bulk hauler ships. The turbulence was almost as bad as being inside the colliding rivers, but he skillfully piloted over the ups and downs. As he reached the third submerged boat, it quickly rose toward the surface as it, too, reached the edge of the destruction.
He held his breath as he waited for the prop to catch on the emerging metal giant.
The left pontoon made contact with the back of the barge, tipping his boat to the right. For a couple long seconds, he did his best stunt driver impression, riding the right pontoon and leaning to the left in a futile effort to stabilize. However, before the boat tipped over, the waves and current pushed him back down. The left pontoon slammed the water, causing him and Butch to both yell out in pain with the impact.
They were clear.
Ezra looked back at the passing fleet of barges. As he assumed, the first rows of floating barges were dragging more rows behind them, despite being underwater. Those submerged rows sped by, like dead fish spinning on a string. Pieces of Cairo splashed out of the water behind them as the barges tore the structures apart.
“We’re going to make it!” he exclaimed, once he was certain they weren’t going to hit those remaining barges or get sucked into the deadly water feature.
Ezra had used the river currents to fling the boat around the edge of the dangerous meeting point, but he didn’t want to risk losing his momentum on the far side of it. He jammed the wheel to the right, taking his chances at cruising upriver on the Mississippi. He had to bob and weave his way through the multitude of boats, barges, and other debris in the new waterway, but was able to shift to the far western side, where it was closer to calm.
As soon as Ezra pulled back on the RPMs, Butch looked up. “I knew all along we’d make it.”
“Ha!” Ezra replied, happy Butch recovered his mood, though still recovering his own frayed nerves. “That makes one of us.”
“Gotta pretend, E-Z. You drove us like a boss. Had me fooled.”
Ezra coaxed the pontoon boat toward shore and pulled under a tall cottonwood tree in what had previously been the front yard of a big farmhouse. Many of its leaves had been blown off, and the pattern of broken windows and other trees near the house suggested a blast had come from the east, which was the direction of Paducah.
After tying a rope around the tree and making absolutely, positively, one-hundred-percent certain the boat wasn’t going to be dragged downriver, he looked back from where they’d come. The churn of water and spray reminded him of a Godzilla movie. It could have been a great monster flailing around in the waves, grabbing barges and spitting them out. Even from a couple of miles away, the roaring waters resonated in his lungs.
He took a moment to pray. “Thanks, Suze. I know you were the one who talked to the Big Man and brought back our boat. You’ve saved our lives, no doubt about it.”
“Amen,” Butch added, finally sitting up on the seat, instead of below it.
Ezra wasn’t done with his prayer. “If it’s not too much trouble, maybe you could stick with us as we get our daughter. I think our run-ins with danger are far from over.”
“Amen to that, too,” Butch added without irony. “You saved my life again, E-Z. I’m never going to be able to repay you at this rate.”
He chuckled, content to let go of some of his bottled-up stress. “We’ve got a long way to go. I’m sure you’ll get your chance if our luck continues to be this bad.”
“So, we’re for sure not going back?” Butch asked with surprise.
“Not unless you want to fight the great watery beast one more time.” He pointed to the middle of the river. “I sure don’t. And, I hate to admit it, but we’re going to have to bail on those dirt bikers. I truly hope they get home without us; they seemed pretty resourceful. Maybe they sped by the roadblock before anyone could stop them…”
Butch had almost caught his breath. “Well, you may have cured me of my fear of water. If we have to stay on this thing for a while, I think I can hack it. I don’t want to brag, but I can get over my fears pretty fast.”
“Isn’t that what you’re doing right now? Bragging?” He recognized it for what it was. Bragging to bolster his confidence. The cocky young man no more wanted to be on the boat than he wanted to get kicked in the face, but he was toughing it out.
“No, bragging about it would be me offering to drive the boat myself. However, after what I just saw, I’d say you’ve got a handle on piloting. Will the boat make it to Yellowstone—to your daughter?”
Over the years, he’d looked at a lot of river maps. There was one summer he and Susan had thought to take a few weeks and drive their boat all over the Midwestern rivers, such as the Ohio and Mississippi. During their research, he joked to his wife they could take the pontoon boat all the way to Montana. The rivers ran deep enough for the pontoons all the way up to that part of the country. It would put them a few miles from Yellowstone before the water finally got too shallow. Of course, getting fuel for a thousand miles of travel would be expensive, which was why he never suggested it.
“Affirmative,” he said, mimicking the ex-soldier’s formal response. “It can make it as far as we need.”
Butch got up on shaky legs and looked over the side. “What’s this tub called?”
He’d always thought the boat was too small to have a name assigned to it, though there was no reason not to give it one now. In his heart, he knew it had to be named for the love of his life. The loves of his life. After a short pause, he tossed it out there. “I’m going to call her Susan’s Grace.”
“That’s a nice name. Do you need a crew?” Butch added with curiosity. “I can change your oil or walk the perimeter as security for you.”
“I could use your help for both. It’s going to be a long journey. Sure you want to ride with me?” It would be nice to have a competent helper for the reasons he mentioned, but he’d also come to like the young man. They’d both lost loved ones and though he wasn’t going to say it openly, Butch’s youthful enthusiasm and braggadocio had kept him going since he’d left the familiarity of his subdivision.
Butch pulled his black cowboy hat out of his pack and slapped it on his head. When he had it how he wanted, he saluted. “Count me in, sir.”
He shook with the big man, sealing the deal.
“Don’t call me sir,” he joked.
Both of them laughed merrily, as if relieved to know what came next.
They ha
d a plan to find his daughter.
###
Adrift
The Impact Series Book 3
Chapter 1
Billings, MT
Grace sat up on the wooden church pew feeling anything but refreshed. As she glanced around at the dozens of other refugees inside the small chapel, it reminded her how lucky she’d been to find a place to sleep last night. Misha had cut her a break and allowed her and Asher to get into the otherwise closed town. Once she drove the streets and witnessed how crowded it was, she understood why the people from Billings tried to keep her and the convoy from coming inside the city limits.
Asher spoke quietly in the early morning light. “Top of the morning. I can see by your face you found this place as refreshing as I did, but, hey, at least we didn’t have to spend the night inside a dead geyser. My wooden plank is ten times better than standing all night.”
She looked over the back of her pew. Asher was sprawled out on the one behind her. Both of them had used their heavy winter coats as pillows, keeping their park ranger hats and other police gear close by. Seeing his similarly dreary face somehow made her feel happy. “Yeah, I don’t wish we were back in that hole, but I still didn’t sleep much last night. Did you?”
“Nah,” Asher replied. “Too many sirens.” The church must have been on a main street of the town. All night police and fire trucks roared back and forth, seemingly every fifteen minutes. Even at that second, sirens wailed in the distance, though it wasn’t yet obvious if they were coming or going.
She sat up and threw her arm over the top of the bench to get a better look at him. “You need to iron your uniform, Ranger. You can’t go around looking like you sleep in it.”
Asher studied her face, eventually finding her smile. “Yeah, well, I bet your uniform is in even worse shape than mine since you’ve been wearing it longer.”
She nodded and sighed. “I should burn it. I’ve been in this for three straight days.”
“Has it been that long?” he asked with surprise.
“I’d already worked a full day when the first pieces of the asteroid came down at the park. I found you that night, then we spent the next day on the run. We spent the second night in the geyser hole. Day three was yesterday; the drive over the mountains. So, yeah, I’m overdue for a shower and clean clothes.”
A woman snorted from nearby. “Good luck with that.”
She and Asher both sat up and looked to their neighbor down the row from Asher. The young lady had a little girl sleeping on her lap, and another child wrapped up in a coat at the end of the pew. Her face and clothing were filthy, like she’d been rolling around in ash.
Grace smiled in her formal park ranger demeanor and spoke quietly out of respect for the sleeping children. “Good morning. We didn’t mean to disturb you. I’m Grace. This is Asher.”
“I’m Alex. Don’t worry about it. These two could sleep through an earthquake. But I was serious about the shower. All of the motels are full, and because the power’s out, no one is being generous about their water. We were told to bathe in the Yellowstone River.”
“We crossed it on the way into town,” Grace said, as much for her benefit as Asher’s.
Alex nodded agreement. “We’ve been here since the beginning. Like you said, three days. Unfortunately, we were only passing through. Me and the kids were gassing up our car the night the meteor came down. I was driving to meet my husband at his oil field job up in North Dakota, but the news said to stay where you were, so we tried to find a room. However, the dang rodeo filled the town up. We had to sleep in the car.”
“Were the kids scared?” she asked, knowing from her time at Yellowstone that some youngsters didn’t take well to camping.
“Not as scared as me. There were strange people driving at all hours of the night. Gunshots in the distance. I didn’t sleep a wink. That’s why we ended up here, in the church. The pastor said we could stay here as long as we wanted, but he was also keen to point out he had no food for us.” Alex leaned closer and reduced the volume of her whisper. “There were more sirens last night than I’ve ever heard before. I think the time is coming when we’ll have to leave, no matter what.”
“Where will you go?” Asher asked.
She looked his way. “You two aren’t going to North Dakota, by chance?”
Both of them shook their heads.
“Too bad,” she went on, “I could have used the escort. I guess I’ll get back in my car and try to make it to my husband. He wouldn’t want me staying in some strange town like this.”
Grace wasn’t sure what to make of her statement. Her own father would say to stay put whenever you had a good thing going. Even if there wasn’t much food, there was safety in numbers. Being in a town was probably better than going out on the open roads. The more she thought about it, Grace wondered if her plan to drive back to Kentucky was now too dangerous.
“Do you know anything about what’s going on outside of Billings?” Grace pressed. “If we knew what it was like out there, maybe it would help us all decide if staying here is the right decision.”
Alex shrugged. “No one tells me anything. I haven’t been able to reach my husband on my phone, either.”
Grace pulled out her smartphone, studied it for a short time, then pocketed it again. “Mine isn’t working, either. It’s on, but the network signal is gone.”
Asher checked his fancy watch, but didn’t say anything, suggesting it wasn’t connecting, either.
She was about to continue discussing options, but in the short time she’d been talking to Alex, the siren sounds had grown closer. It was impossible to ignore how the shrieking noises kept getting louder and more urgent with each passing second. They all glanced at the front door when it sounded like a police car had pulled up to the church itself.
Grace turned to Alex. “Is this normal?”
“No,” the woman replied, looking worried. “No one from town has come here. Maybe someone’s been hurt?”
They all looked around, wondering if any of the others in the church had called the police. A few seconds later, the two front doors were flung open by a heavy-set man in a black police uniform.
Grace stood up, ready to help.
The man at the door scanned the room, and his eyes quickly fell on her.
He pointed at her and Asher. “You two. I need you to come with me right this second.”
South of Cape Girardeau, MO
Ezra was startled awake when something hit the underside of the pontoon boat.
“Holy hell!” he screamed.
The sun was low to the southeast, though the sky was thick with a gray haze that made the orb seem faint and smaller than normal. The light of the day helped him see the expanse of water now covering the miles-long stretch of farmland. The overflowing waters of the Mississippi and Ohio Rivers had come together nearby, and the floodplains next to the riverways were swamped. Last night, after navigating the dangerous tornado of raging waters, he’d pulled the boat under some trees near a flooded farmhouse, as it provided a calm place to rest. He didn’t remember parking so far from the main channel, though.
Ezra jumped into the captain’s chair and started the motor.
“What is it?” Butch asked, sounding worried.
“The water went down a ton since last night. I figured it would take a lot longer.” He’d lived near water most of his life and had seen spring flooding many times, but the water level had never dropped as fast as last night. Of course, it had never risen as fast, either. “Untie us,” he insisted, pointing to the line at the front connected to a small tree.
He studied the depth finder to see how bad it was. They sat in about four feet of water, which was barely enough clearance to use the motor. The main channel was about a mile away. The flooding changed the course of the river, adding another reason why things looked different than they did the previous night.
Once free, he set the trim, so the blades of the prop were barely under the surface. It made a
frothy, bubbly sound, and it didn’t provide as much power as when it was deeper, but he had to protect the only propeller they had. Since they were heading over a farm field it was unlikely they’d hit any rocks or tree stumps, but the fast-moving water could have brought in heavy debris. Lots of junk floated in the muddy river, reinforcing his fear that not all of it was visible.
“Are we going to make it?” Butch inquired while looking over the side. He still held on like he was afraid to fall off the boat, but he appeared slightly less ill-at-ease than during their wild escape yesterday.
“We should,” he said cautiously. Yet, as he watched the depth gauge, it was clear the water was draining off the farmland faster than he expected, or the field tilted up as they neared the main channel. When they’d gone about half a mile, he had the prop almost out of the water, which meant they were barely moving. “I think the farmland was rearranged by the flood.”
Butch look at him seriously. “What are you saying?”
The depth was now less than three feet, nearing two. They were going to begin dragging the aluminum pontoons at any second. He lifted the Suzuki outboard engine out of the water, keeping it clear of any hazards. Once the engine was secure, he immediately moved to the rear ladder and climbed into the water. “We have to push it, Butch, or we’re going to run aground and stay there. If we keep it moving, we should be able to clear this high ground and get into the main channel.”
Butch deflated. His eyes darted all around, perhaps searching for the nearest piece of dry land. Though it was quite shallow below them, there was no place to get out of the water for miles in any direction. The half-submerged farmhouse was less than a mile back, and there was a tree-covered hill about a mile behind it, but nothing close by. The big man took a deep breath to steady himself. “Whatever you say, E-Z. I just want to get out of here.”
The young man carefully removed his cowboy hat like he didn’t want to lose it, kicked off his cowboy boots, then he gingerly lowered himself into the water.
Impact Series Box Set | Books 1-6 Page 40
