Impact Series Box Set | Books 1-6

by Isherwood, E. E.

  “The mining company?” he asked with surprise.

  “The one and only.”

  “That’s amazing. Not two minutes ago we saw some TKM trucks parked in front of a tent city, inviting every able-bodied man to come work for them. They’re paying fifty thousand for three months of work.”

  She gasped. “Don’t sign up with them! Like, ever! Seriously, watch out for those guys. You can’t trust them for a second. They’re the ones who—” She paused.

  “The ones who what?”

  “Don’t trust a word they say, okay? They’re everywhere, too. We ran into them while at Crow Agency. They’re responsible for bringing the rocks down on us, and now they’re trying to lay claim to the pieces.”

  He spoke in a stern voice. “Then why are you going to their headquarters?”

  Grace sighed heavily. “Oh, if you only knew. I don’t have time to explain, but rest assured I won’t do anything you wouldn’t do. We’re going to stay safe.”

  He trusted his daughter without question, but there was a weakness in her voice that indicated doubt in her own statement.

  Grace seemed busy. Her voice rushed. “Dad, is there anything else? Will you be at this number? I tried calling you back from the last phone you used, but they said you were already gone.”

  “Colby?” he shot back. “Did you talk to him?”

  “Yeah. He said to tell you—” she muffled the phone to speak with someone on her end before coming back. “I can’t remember it right now. We think he said some guys made it to him, or someone made it home.”

  “Did you write it down?” he mused. It was another of their running jokes, usually related to computers. Grace knew a lot more about tech than he did, so he would come to her for those times he was on the PC and needed some help. More often than not, he would ask her questions she’d already answered. Her reply was always to ask if he’d written the answer the first time she’d explained it. Without exception, the answer was no.

  “Ha ha,” she replied. “I’m sorry I can’t tell you the details. I do remember he sounded like he was sad to see you go. Wanted to make sure you were all right.”

  “We were sad to leave him, too. There are some good people out there.” He looked over to Haley and smiled. “But it sounds like you’re busy right now. I’ll let you go.”

  “Thanks, Dad. I’d love to talk more, but, yeah, I’m driving. You know what Mom said about driving and being on the phone…”

  The line went silent from both ends.

  Grace spoke first. “Dad, I love you.”

  “I love you, too, baby girl. The last thing I want to say is—”

  He held the phone on his shoulder so he could free both hands. Then he clapped as hard as he could before hanging up.

  Haley looked at him sideways. “Are you sure you’re all right? That was really weird.”

  “Yeah, I guess it was. Me and my daughter are both trying to get the last clap. It’s a game me and my wife used to play. Now my little girl has picked up the slack. I just sent one back to her. She’ll do the same to me the next time we speak. It gives me something to look forward to.”

  Butch came out of the bathroom, almost looking presentable. He’d washed his face, at the very least. When he put on his black hat, he motioned to the door, so Ezra knew it was his turn to clean up.

  The excitable puppy struggled to be put down, and Haley let him go. Liam’s little legs became blurs as he tried to accelerate on the slippery wooden floor, but he eventually made it all the way over to Butch. The big guy crouched down and held out his hands, obviously not expecting the unpredictable dog to come to him. When it got close, the brown fur ball sprang into his arms.

  After his call, both he and Haley were a bit muted.

  “What’d I miss?” Butch asked.

  Chapter 12

  Thornton, CO

  The short drive through the tent city was only made possible by the woman who knew how to whistle at a volume somewhere between train horn and jet engine. People were anxious for her to move on, which helped Grace drive behind her. Once they were in the clear, the woman gave them a thumbs-up.

  “We’ll clean up downtown for you,” Grace joked as they drove by.

  “You do that!” she called out.

  Free of threats, she relaxed a bit, glad to have spoken with Dad for those few minutes. It was a relief to hear his voice, and she’d wanted to fill him in on everything which had happened to her the past few days, but, like their earlier call, she left off the piece about being chased by an assassin. If she’d told him, he’d worry endlessly. While she liked to know he was looking out for her, there was nothing he could do from across the country, so it wasn’t right to dump it on him. He would be surprised when she finally did speak the entire truth, provided she stayed alive to tell him…

  From there, the trail became decidedly more urban. Fewer trees lined the stream, the waterway was much narrower, and there were fewer single-family houses along the bike path. The taller buildings of the region loomed ahead, rising like stairs until the tallest in the center. The number of bikers and walkers swelled, too.

  They had few problems avoiding all the refugees going the opposite direction, but they did approach a man in a lawn chair who would not budge from his spot in the middle of the path.

  “What’s this guy doing?” she wondered.

  While bikes kept going in the opposite direction, she had to stop as there wasn’t enough room on the bike path to go around him. On the left side, the stream flowed beneath a three-foot-tall mud bank, creating an impassible obstacle. To the right of the path, there was a set of concrete steps leading to some fancy condos. It was a natural chokepoint.

  “It looks like he’s going to collect a toll from us,” Asher said, scanning the area.

  Grace stopped about twenty feet from the guy, hoping he would get the picture to move, but he sat in a pose she interpreted as defiance. The man was in his sixties or seventies, with mostly white hair. His wire-rimmed glasses added ten years to his age. He was dressed in a nice blue polo shirt with fancy tan slacks and shiny leather shoes. He might have recently played eighteen holes of golf at the country club. “Maybe,” she replied, “though at least he doesn’t look like a criminal. I’m going to get out and talk to him.”

  Asher opened his door. “I’ll get out with you.”

  “Hats on,” she advised, pulling her NPS hat off the center console. Asher reached in and did the same, which gave her a moment to look him in the eyes from across the front seat. He appeared happy and anxious to get out there, which she keyed on. “Let’s do this!”

  Grace walked toward the man in her best park ranger posture. “Sir, we’d like to pass through here without hurting anyone. Would you mind moving off to the side?”

  Bikes whizzed by with great frequency. Many yelled out “On your right!” as they came around lawn chair man.

  “This is a walking and bicycle trail. There are signs every hundred yards saying no motorized vehicles. Are you stupid, or totally blind?” His face was worked into a permanent sneer.

  Grace kept her body rigid. “Sir, we’re with the National Park Service on official business. I’m going to need you to move aside.” Since she’d picked up Shawn, he became official park service business, at least by her calculation. Traveling with him was not recreational by any definition.

  “You don’t get to hide behind your badge. I’d turn away decorated police officers if they came through in their squad cars. The rules are the rules and around here, we have to respect them. See our grass?” He pointed up the steps to their right. A wall of two-story white condos sat about fifty feet back, with yards manicured to perfection. A walkway came down from the complex, ending at the steps. “It’s green and lush because we follow the rules.”

  She wasn’t expecting his reasoning at all. The man reminded her of Babs, the harsh woman who always gave Dad grief for breaking minor rules in the subdivision covenants. Dad always went out of his way to smooth things ov
er with the woman, saying it cost them nothing to be nice to her, no matter how mean she was in return. He always justified it by saying Babs could put a lien on their house for no reason at all, so they couldn’t push back. Grace thought being nice to the nasty woman was a mistake, though she was willing to give it a whirl with the man.

  “Sir, I think we’ve gotten off on the wrong foot. My name’s Grace, and this is Asher. We’re with the park service, as you can see, and we’re trying to talk to the company who trashed your city with their asteroid. Don’t you want to see things cleaned up so you can get back to…whatever it is you do here?” She figured he was the condo complex’s busybody. Dad said there was one in every living space on earth.

  “I’m Harold, but don’t think for a second I’m going to let you get through here. Go back, then get on the regular streets where you belong. All the other trucks have figured it out. Why can’t you?”

  Since the creek sat a bit below the surface around them, she’d been unable to see if there were vehicles on the streets in their part of the city. By telling her what was out there, Harold had confirmed her fear was legitimate. They were doing the smart thing by avoiding the roads.

  A spandex-clad biker raced along the path behind Harold. She watched as he held out a foot and clipped the leg of the lawn chair. At the same time, he shouted. “Get out of the damned way!” The man kept going, leaving Harold looking a little shaken.

  She tried to laugh it off. “See? We’re all breaking the rules.”

  He remained firm in his seat. “I’m doing a public service.”

  Being nice wasn’t going to work. “Sir, if you don’t move out of the way, we’re going to have to make you. We can’t risk running into you as we go by. And we are going by.”

  Harold pulled out his phone and dialed. At first, she assumed he was calling someone from his condo complex, but his loud words dashed all thoughts of a harmless call. “Hello, I’d like to report…” He read off her license plate while shoving a wicked grin in her direction. “They are threatening bodily harm to me. Please send help!”

  Grace became stuck in a loop of logic. She had to move him to go by. She didn’t want the police to come as a result. For the first time since she’d put on the law enforcement gear, she wondered if it was the right time to use the taser or handcuffs.

  A woman startled her by shouting from the top of the short stairway. “Harold! What are you doing to those people?”

  She came down as the man waved her off. “Nothing, dear. They have no business driving on the bike path. You know the rules.”

  “I’m so sorry,” the woman commiserated. “He’s not adjusting to things very well. He can’t get it through his thick skull that his precious rules aren’t what they once were.”

  “We have to have rules!” Harold snapped back.

  Grace tried to be cordial. “He called the police on us…”

  “Oh, don’t worry. My husband is all bark and no bite. The police aren’t even answering their phones. He tried calling about a million times as he watched out our back window. He’s been on a kick about no one wearing bike helmets on the path.”

  “The rules say—”

  “We know, dear,” the lady interjected. “Now, let’s get your chair moved so these nice people can go through. We’ll go inside and I’ll make you a nice cup of coffee.”

  The hostility in the man’s eyes was evident as he glanced at Grace, but it softened when he turned back to his wife. A few seconds of internal deliberation was all it took; he got out of his chair and slowly dragged it off the path as if he wanted to savor every last second of being in control.

  “Thank you,” she made herself say, before quickly turning around with Asher. There was nothing to be gained by further engaging with the old fellow. She worried he was going to change his mind.

  “At least he didn’t really call the police,” she whispered to her partner.

  St. Charles, MO

  After he and Butch had cleaned up, Ezra walked around Haley’s living room checking out the antiques. Most of the stuff was recognizable as being extremely old, such as metal irons, cookie cutters, washboards, and fake bird nests. Among them, there was one display which stood out. “Hey, you said this wasn’t your stuff, but surely this has to be yours?”

  Haley strode in and looked where he pointed. “Nope. It was here when I moved in. I’ve never even checked it out. What is it?”

  The small black frame held about fifteen audio cassette tapes in three rows of five. It was not unlike the ones he’d had in his youth. Ezra randomly pulled one of the cassettes out of the display case. “You don’t listen to Supertramp?”

  “No. What’s a supertramp?”

  He opened the fold out case, intending to explain it to her. Oddly enough, his instinct was to smell the inside. It was a glorious combination of plastic and laminated paper, despite probably being ten or twenty years old. “Oh, man, this brings back memories. When I was your age, there was nothing better than going to the record store, buying the latest cassette tapes, then tearing off the plastic wrap and smelling the fresh printing. It was better when it folded out a few times, with lyrics.”

  She glanced to Butch. He’d come into the living room but continued to dote on Liam the puggle. “Do you know what he’s talking about?”

  He looked up from the pup, seeming to think it over. “I’ve heard of cassette tapes, yeah. My unit had a boombox over in Afghanistan, though Supertramp doesn’t ring any bells.”

  Haley became more interested in Butch. “You served over there? Wow, thanks.”

  Butch pursed his lips. “It’s nothing. Thank those who didn’t come back; they deserve the praise, not guys like me. I was just young and stupid, looking for adventure.” He chuckled while looking down at the puppy. “I joined up the day I turned eighteen but got out after my two years of active duty. Spent most of my time at a remote fire support base, shooting at goat herders in the hills around us. Not much in the way of heroics or adventure. Technically, I’m now a reservist, though I don’t have a phone or a mailbox anymore. Not sure how they’d recall me…”

  “I get it,” the young woman replied.

  Ezra waited to see if they would say anything more, but they both became silent, so he tried to bring them back to why he was there. “The longer we stay here, the more I’ve come to realize we need gear. If refugees are swarming all over this town, maybe this is happening in other places where we’ll travel. We need to think through what would be useful to have.”

  “Guns,” Butch said without hesitation. “If we don’t have guns, we’re targets.”

  The loss of his two rifles hit him in the gut. Guns were expensive even on a good day. To get a pair of tricked-out rifles like the ones he’d lost would take way more money than he had, unless his credit card still worked. There also weren’t as many places that sold proper rifles, though there were some popular shops that sold other guns. “If we go to a Walmart, I’m sure we could pick up a pair of cheap shotguns. They wouldn’t be as good as having rifles, especially since we have all the ammo in our packs, but shotgun shells are relatively cheap.”

  Haley spoke up. “I told you I’d show you where to go. If you need to buy guns, Bass Pro is practically around the corner. It has the biggest gun counter I’ve ever seen. Plus, we could easily walk there.”

  “Are you sure they’re still selling guns?” he asked.

  “I have no idea. I know the town is strict about having guns out on the streets, but they aren’t coming into houses to take them away.”

  Butch found it funny. “So, you can buy guns, and you can keep them in your house, but you can’t transport new guns to your house?”

  “Those are the rules, yeah.”

  “Do you have a car?” Ezra wondered. “If you had one, you could drive us and our weapons discreetly back from the store and we’d go directly to our boat and get out of here.”

  The young woman seemed to think on it. “I do have a car, but I ran it below E. I wa
s saving what’s left in case I needed to make one last trip to get out of the city. My ex-boyfriend said it might come to that.”

  Inwardly, he was upset at her for letting her car run out of gas. He’d always told Susan and Grace to fill up their tanks any time it got to half on the fuel gage. It was one of the little tricks he’d picked up from the prepper community, though he wasn’t always diligent about it, either.

  Haley went on. “The gas stations are all shut down. The city took possession of the fuel left over, saying they needed it for emergency services.”

  “Dang it,” he said quietly. “We have a gas can back at the boat. If we could only get it and syphon fuel from an abandoned car…”

  Butch had taken one of the other cassettes out of the box and put it under his nose. He then let the dog sniff it. “She needs gas, we have a gas can. If we can find a car left for scrap, we can take the fuel, fill up her car, and then she can drive us to get the guns. Those guns will let us protect ourselves getting back to the boat. It’s like a puzzle.”

  “Or we can walk,” he said matter-of-factly.

  “Seriously?” Butch replied.

  He nodded grimly. “Each time we return to the boat, we draw attention to where it’s at. We know someone is looking out for us, and knows we once had guns, but now we don’t. I figure we should go back only one more time. When we leave.”

  Haley busied herself inspecting the cassette Butch had been holding.

  The cowboy replied. “All right. Haley will lead us to Bass Pro, where we can hopefully still buy guns and gear for the boat. Somehow, yet to be determined, we’ll sneak our stuff back here, then, maybe after it gets dark, we’ll sneak ourselves to the boat. If the garbage is out of the water, we can leave…” His voice trailed off.

  Ezra thought it was as good a plan as they’d think up on the spot. “Haley, can you give us directions? There’s no need for you to go with us if it isn’t far. It seems a little dangerous outside.”

  She tapped her abdomen which imprinted the gun through her blouse. “No, I’m good. I’ll take care of you two. Liam and I could use some cardio, anyway.”