Grace tapped the brakes, expecting to take the exit off the interstate.
“No,” he said hastily. “I don’t live here.”
She relaxed. “Sorry, I was daydreaming. You surprised me.”
Asher looked over with concern. “You want me to drive for a while? Despite coming from the big city, I’m a pretty good driver.”
She hadn’t let him drive since they’d met, but it had little to do with trust of his skills. The truck belonged to the National Park Service. During her training and orientation period, Randy might have gone over the rules for using the truck, but she couldn’t remember if he mentioned anything about taking it outside the park. However, even if it was fine to take it outside the boundary a short distance, it definitely wasn’t cool to drive it halfway across the country. If they were pulled over, she wanted to be the one to blame.
“Maybe when I get tired,” she said to be noncommittal. “Right now, I only need some of your stimulating conversation.”
Asher seemed to search her eyes for deeper meaning, but Logan jumped in before he could find any.
“Hey, I have some questions for you. Why are we driving in a truck with no windows, a missing door, and looks like it did one too many spin cycles in the laundromat dryer?”
Asher cracked up, then motioned to Grace that she should do the talking. “You wanted conversation.”
For the next ten minutes she told him about her adventures, starting with the falling star and the man holding the golden rock back in Yellowstone. From there, as she replayed the events in words, she realized how unbelievable it sounded. Hiding in dead geysers. Getting chased by hitmen. Cars falling off cliffs in the mountains. She fully expected him to call her a liar.
“Now I know you two,” Logan remarked. “I saw you in a funny meme.”
“A what?” Asher replied. “A mean?”
“No. A meme. I don’t know, it’s like a short video with a funny message.”
Grace was disturbed. Nothing she’d done lately would be classified as funny. “What, exactly, was the message?”
“Yeah. I can’t remember all the details, but it was something to do with saving the world. I think you tried to warn people about the falling asteroid, but the park visitors shot you instead of saying thanks. The funniest part was how you two didn’t go together. At all. You looked clean and professional and he was dressed like a hobo, with a dirty suit and insane crazy hairdo.” He motioned to Asher.
She nodded. “Yeah, that’s about what happened. Only it wasn’t the visitors in the crowd shooting at us, it was the hitman I told you about.”
Asher tapped his phone watch, ignoring the hobo comment. “Wait a second, where did you see our video? I haven’t been able to get the internet for days. You said you didn’t even have a phone.”
“I saw it on the bus ride into Billings. Not all of the kids in my school are poor, like me. A few have the latest models of phones and boy did they love showing them off.”
Grace could relate. Some kids got them in kindergarten, but she didn’t have a phone until high school. Even then, hers was a hand-me-down from Mom, far from the latest model. Some of the other girls enjoyed telling her how far down the social ladder she was, simply as a result of her less popular phone.
“God, I hated high school,” she said to herself.
“Me too!” Logan added.
“Sorry. Go on.” Grace held the wheel, looking outside. The landscape was mostly flat, though low, rolling grass fields dominated the left side of the highway. There were a few trees, and fewer farmhouses, suggesting people lived on the land. “You said you saw us on the memes?”
Logan leaned between her and Asher. “Yep, each day, new ones pop up and we all check them out. I remember you two, though when we checked later that day, your video was gone. It said the site took it down because it had been red-flagged.”
“The site took it down?” Asher said in a wistful voice. “I wonder who ordered its removal?” He gave her a meaningful glance.
She let it go and concentrated on the road. Minutes later, a small town appeared ahead of them. A few of the low hills were next to the highway, giving small, single-family homes places to nestle among numerous trees.
“This is it!” Logan shouted. “Right here.”
Grace veered right, almost missing the exit. It didn’t occur to her Logan lived in a normal-looking town. He’d said his family lived on a reservation, and she imagined driving down a long dusty road to the middle of nowhere.
“Welcome to Crow Agency.” Logan spoke quietly and sounded like he wanted to be anywhere but there. She figured he was coming to terms with how he’d have to explain what happened to his friend, Noah.
“You know, we don’t have to mention those games, Logan. It was a mistake, right? I’m sure you’ve learned your lesson. What’s more important is we get you home, safe, and we report how your friend was hurt by those bad men.”
He shrugged. “Believe me, I want to leave that part out, but I owe it to him and his parents to explain what we were doing. I’ll take responsibility for my actions. It’s what my father would demand.” Logan pointed. “Take a left here. The town hall is a few blocks up.”
“We’re going to the town hall?” Asher asked.
“It’s coming up,” Logan said quietly.
They drove for a short time, passing more of the single-family houses, a few mobile homes, and an open, grassy park. Logan guided them to a compact, somewhat modern-looking building, at least compared to the homes and trailers around it. Grace already had her school on the brain, so it was easy to compare the tan-colored structure to a small school, complete with flagpole, welcome sign, and a hip-high chain-link fence circling the outside of the property. For a town hall, it was, in a word, uninspiring.
“This is it?” she asked with surprise.
“What, you were expecting the Taj Mahal?” Logan replied with snark.
“No, it’s just that…”
The teen laughed. “That’s Crow humor right there. I hear the old timers say the joke all the time when outsiders come here. You know, because they think we’re Indians, and the Taj Mahal is in India.”
Grace rolled her eyes. “Oh, we get it. Why did we come here, though?”
Logan pointed. “That’s where my dad will be.”
“Why there?” Grace asked the question as she noticed a navy-blue pickup truck parked on the street in front of the building. The letters TKM were emblazoned on the side, and it was a logo she’d never be able to miss for the rest of her life. “Oh, crap. Why is a TKM truck there? It’s the mining company that wants us dead. Remember the blue TKM plane we passed back in Billings? They’re everywhere.”
Logan was the only one who didn’t rubberneck as they drove by. “Don’t worry. Those guys are here all the time. Lots of mining out on our lands, I guess.”
She didn’t think it was that simple.
Near Grand Tower, IL
Ezra’s eyesight tunneled as he aimed his rifle at the men intent on shooting his friend. The floating debris provided a lot of hiding spots for the pirates, but the water made it impossible for the bad guys to shoot and scoot. Once they popped up, he knew where they would pop up again.
He fired when a man exposed his head and shoulder to him. At two hundred yards it wasn’t a tough shot, given the size of the target, but it did conflict his moral guide. Shooting at living people seemed wrong in every way, at least until another bullet snapped off part of his pontoon boat.
“Kill or be killed,” he said quietly, quoting numerous war movies he’d watched over the years.
Butch used his strength to push the boat down the slight incline of the flipped barge. The rear end of the left pontoon jutted out from under the flat part of the boat, shielding the middle of his body. However, Butch was six foot six and he couldn’t lean into a push and stay concealed by the aluminum tube at the same time. It was up to Ezra to cover him.
The next man to appear was on the red speedboat, which w
as the watercraft at the back of the pack. He had to adjust his aim to account for the longer distance, perhaps three hundred yards, but he knew his shot got close when the man dropped back into the boat.
As they neared the waterline, Butch was able to shove the boat toward the main channel, which made them miss most of the debris in between the sunken barge and the nearby shoreline. Susan’s Grace picked up a little speed, which forced Ezra to sidestep to keep up. That distraction gave a few pirates time to pop up and put rounds on them.
“Stay low!” he shouted to Butch, knowing he didn’t have a choice.
The front of the pontoon boat went into the water, shoving aside a large log floating on the surface. He realized belatedly if Butch had been short by a foot or two, the log would have gone between the pontoons, effectively beaching them on top of it. Their escape was a game of inches.
Bullet hits crackled all around them. Some whizzed off the hull of the barge. Some impacted the exposed pontoons. A few punched through the cushions of their seats, sending puffs of filling out the other side.
The last yard seemed to take all afternoon, at least by Ezra’s accounting. Butch struggled to keep his feet in the sloppy mud near the waterline, and Ezra slipped while trying to aim effectively at the bad guys. After missing several shots, he tossed the rifle on the deck and helped with the pushing.
“We’re almost there!” he yelled.
A second or two before he was going to declare the boat free of the barge, he saw the top deck of the pirate tugboat coming up the main channel of the Mississippi. Based on its speed and position close to shore, they didn’t have much time before it arrived at the entrance to the oxbow bend.
“I’m slipping!” Butch croaked.
“Get in!” he shouted. Ezra latched on to the ladder and followed the boat into the water. As soon as Susan’s Grace was free, he scrambled up the ladder, hopped into his captain’s chair, then lowered the motor. Looking back, there was a floating shipping container between him and the pirates, giving temporary cover from the gunfire. “I’m starting her up.”
He cranked over the engine, which roared to life. He idled to make sure it was going to stay alive, which gave him a couple of seconds to check on Butch. He was nowhere in sight.
“Butch?” he asked with concern. Ezra stood up and looked behind the boat. His friend was still in the water, unwilling to let go of the transom next to the motor. “What are you doing? Climb in!”
Ezra couldn’t risk leaving with the tall man hanging off the back. The blades of the prop might catch Butch’s legs. He leaned over, extending a hand to his friend. “Come on!”
Butch could have been mistaken for the family cat after getting tossed into a swimming pool. His eyes were filled with terror. It took him a few seconds to recognize what Ezra was trying to do, then it took them another ten or fifteen seconds to get him out of the river.
Butch belly-flopped onto the floor, which was enough for Ezra. He leapt back into his seat, caught hold of the wheel, then pushed the throttle forward. The boat immediately lurched out of the water as the giant outboard propelled them into the main channel. Ezra cut in front of the pirate tugboat as it arrived at the entrance to the bend; a guy on the top deck shot from about fifty feet away.
“Butch, we need cover fire!” he screamed over the motor noise, hoping his words would spur his friend into action. When he didn’t move right away, Ezra upped his motivational tone. “Stop laying down on the job!”
Butch rolled to his side, reached for Ezra’s rifle near the rear of the boat, then got to work. Only when he fired the first shot did Ezra focus on driving, including lots of left and right swerves to make it harder for anyone to hit back. However, as the yellow and gold speedboat drivers already found out, there was no place to duck down while piloting the boat. His entire back might as well have been painted as a bull’s-eye.
The veteran soldier cranked out several rounds before shouting, “Got him!”
Ezra looked back, thankful the giant tugboat couldn’t keep up with them. In the few seconds he’d bobbed and weaved, he’d opened up about several hundred yards of distance. Another man took the place of the downed shooter on the top deck, but by the time he got in position, they were almost out of effective range.
Butch fired several more times until he ran out of ammo. After a long pause, he got up off the floor and made his way to the seat across from Ezra. “I think we did it, boss. I don’t know how we got so lucky, but man, I want to learn how to drive this boat as well as you.”
Ezra laughed, glad to finally be safe. “That’s funny. I was just thinking how I want to learn how to shoot on the move like you do.” He looked over his shoulder one more time. “For now, let’s get up to Grand Tower. It’s right ahead.”
“Are they going to see us go there?” Butch wondered. It was less than a mile upriver and in direct line of sight of the pirate ship. There were no places to hide along the straight edge of the shoreline since all the trees and bushes had been stripped bare of cover by the flood.
“I guess we have a decision to make,” Ezra said, wishing for an easy choice for once.
Chapter 14
Crow Agency, MT
Logan took them inside the town hall, but they didn’t get any farther than the antechamber. Two grim-faced guards stood at attention, ready to address them the second they walked in. Grace was certain they were going to stop them, but Logan waved at them with hardly a notice.
Grace was less sure of herself, so she stopped at the officer. “Do you need to see ID or anything?”
The guard’s uniform reminded her of the police back in Billings. Black shirt, black tie, and black pants. A thin blue line down the outside of each leg set them apart from the other department. He wasn’t carrying his sidearm, but he did have a rifle slung over his shoulder, knowing trouble was out there. He nodded at Logan. “If you’re with him, we’re all good here.”
She accepted the wave-through and followed behind the kid, but when they were out of earshot, Grace stopped him. “Who the heck is your dad? He’s not the, uh, chief, is he? Do you still call them chiefs?” She didn’t want to offend him.
“No, he’s the chairman of the tribal council. It’s not like the old days. I heard there hasn’t been a real chief for about a hundred years. They teach us history in high school, but I’ll be honest with you, I’m not much of a student.” He kept walking.
“None of this is what I envisioned of this place,” Asher remarked matter-of-factly.
“What did you expect, the Taj Mahal?” a wide-shouldered man stood at the door to an office.
Asher seemed surprised. “That’s exactly what Logan told us.”
“It’s a popular joke around here,” the man admitted.
“Hey, Pops,” Logan said to his father, before passing him and going through the door. “These are two of my friends. They brought me from Billings since the stupid rez bus wasn’t working. Hey, did Noah Talks Always show up?”
Grace stood before the boy’s dad, uncertain what to say. Before she got the chance, he held out one of his meaty hands, a huge smile on his face. “My guards saw you coming; that’s why I was here waiting for my boy. You’ve done a great service to me. Please, come in.” Speaking to his son, he added, “No, Noah isn’t here. Why?”
Logan didn’t answer. Instead, he went to a small refrigerator in the back corner of the office. When the boy didn’t respond, the father turned back to her and Asher, still holding out his hand.
She clasped it. “Thank you for seeing us.”
“I’m Shawn Runs Hard. I’m the chairman, as I’m sure my son explained on the way in. Take a seat. Let’s talk. I want to hear what happened.”
She and Asher went for the comfortable leather chairs in front of the desk, though Logan remained in the back corner of the office.
“I’ve been worried beyond words my son was in trouble back in Billings. None of us could have foreseen what was going to happen after the heavens fell the other day. The
power went out after the big roaring thunder. Then we started getting visits from travelers who were much closer to the rocks. We sent the injured up to Billings and expected the bus to bring back kids like Logan, but none of them ever showed.”
“Billings is a disaster, sir, but not because it got hit by the asteroid pieces. The power is off there, too, and it has made the whole city fall apart. We found your son in the mall parking lot. There were thousands of people trying to get in, and he said there were criminals all over the inside already. It’s the reason he left when he did.”
Chairman Runs Hard turned to his son. “Is that what happened?”
Logan popped open a soda can and took a big swig before facing his father. “Yes, but it isn’t the whole truth. Noah and I found some video games sitting unattended in all that mess. We each took a few as we ran out of the mall. Some other bad guys wanted us to give them over to them—” He choked up.
Grace knew with certainty Logan was on a train heading for a disaster, so she spoke up. “Sir, that’s when we found the two boys. They were being assaulted by men with guns. Logan escaped with his life, but the other boy was knocked down before he could escape. I drove your son away rather than engage a large group of armed attackers, so if the other boy got hurt, please blame me. We couldn’t go back for him.”
Shawn had been happy to see his boy, but his face soured hearing about Noah. “I’m disappointed in you, son. When you’re outside the reservation, you represent the Crow Nation. You represent me. Your mother and I taught you better.”
“I know,” Logan replied, sounding sincere. “We were only playing around. It was an adventure after days of being bored. I threw the games down when the men asked, but Noah didn’t take them seriously. I think that’s why they hit him first.” He looked out the window. “I hope he escaped somehow. That’s why I asked if he was already here.”
The chairman sighed. “I haven’t heard of anyone making it back home, save for you. As if my day isn’t full enough with meetings, we’ve got to figure out what happened to all the others who were on that bus with you. The tribe is missing many of its citizens. For now, I’m glad you made it home in one piece.”
Impact Series Box Set | Books 1-6 Page 50
