Impact Series Box Set | Books 1-6

by Isherwood, E. E.

  The truck might not have had a working horn, but the engine was still in prime condition. The speedometer reached sixty-five as she sped by the disabled flatbed and continued on toward the woman with the big gun.

  “Might want to buckle up,” she cried out to Asher.

  He scrambled into a sitting position so the belt would secure him.

  A familiar voice came from behind her. “Let me get belted in before you wreck us.”

  “Logan?” she shouted at him in shock. She was only surprised for half a second, though. It was her own fault for not checking for him before she started the truck.

  “Hi!” he beamed. “I did my job for Dad. Now I’m going to help you.”

  There was no turning back, even if she wanted. A bullet went through the front glass of the windshield, directly in the middle. It left a two-inch hole and passed out the windowless back.

  Logan unbelted a second later and fell to the floor. “On second thought, I’ll take my chances down here.”

  A second shot went into the motor. She had no idea where, but the jarring impact rattled the steering wheel. She stayed as low as possible, fearing the next bullet would have her name written on it. But she had to look over the top of the dash in order to keep her aim true.

  “Almost there,” she declared.

  Another blast crumpled the metal support on the left side of the windshield, a couple of feet in front of her head. The jolt also created a series of deep fissures across the lower half of the windshield.

  She looked ahead.

  The sniper left her rifle on the ground as she stood up.

  “Here we go!” Grace declared.

  Nerio wasn’t more than a few yards off the highway. She bounced on her feet, looking like a goalie who was trying to guess which way to jump. Grace slammed the brakes a second before leaving the pavement, trying to create confusion in Nerio’s head about where she was aiming. She used that final second to jerk the steering wheel hard to the left, which gave her a bit of extra turning power.

  The black-clad woman made her move.

  Grace felt the thump.

  Chapter 21

  Outside Boulder, WY

  “What in the—” Ezra was struck dumb as he realized it was his daughter behind the wheel of the wrecked SUV barreling down the highway. “Grace?”

  The universe seemed to stand still as he watched her go by, hair blowing behind her. She looked over once, for an instant, as if to assure him she was going to take care of something for him. But what?

  “She’s going for the sniper,” Haley offered.

  “That woman isn’t firing at us anymore,” Butch added, in a voice suggesting it wasn’t necessarily a good thing.

  “I know,” Erza said dryly.

  They watched the next few seconds as Grace’s SUV swerved around the out-of-commission flatbed a hundred yards away, then continued accelerating from there. The eight guards stood on and next to the flatbed, trying to get into the action at the town. However, they also got interested in her truck as it sped by.

  “Shoot those men,” he ordered, pointing to the guys at the disabled flatbed, already lining up his first shot. “They’re aiming at my Grace.”

  Ezra’s attack didn’t seem to strike any of them, but the guys retreated into their box, or under the safety of the trailer itself, which was enough for him.

  “Watch it,” he willed Grace. “You’re going too fast.”

  As Grace neared the sniper, the woman popped off the ground. Nerio scooted from side to side, awaiting Grace’s arrival, until she lunged to her left.

  The SUV struck Nerio. She flew ten feet in the air, twirling a few times, as if dismounting a trapeze. Unlike her deft landing out of the semitruck, her second one was terrible. She slammed into the dusty rocks face-first as Grace skidded to a stop.

  His full attention was on his daughter, at least until a round tore a hole in the side of the red truck near Ezra’s head. He ducked immediately.

  “We’ve got company!” Butch yelled, pointing to the closest flatbed down the line. Two men squatted next to the flatbed, as if considering whether to shoot or run at him. He and his friends were easy targets from fifty feet away.

  “Under the truck!” he yelled.

  Ezra desperately wanted to see what happened to Grace, but he was pinned down by the pair of men. Perhaps they’d figured out he wasn’t with TKM. Whatever it was, he needed them gone before he could properly observe behind the battle. To test the waters, he leaned out from behind the big rear tires of the semi and took a quick peek.

  Neither of the men saw him.

  He looked over to Butch, who huddled with Haley almost between the two sets of rear tires. “I’m going to try to hit them. Can you fire while still under the truck?” From his position, he was unable to tell if there was enough clearance under the engine and front bumper.

  Butch peered under there. “Yeah, I think I can make the shot.”

  “Is there room for two?” Haley inquired, scooting closer to him.

  “Not really. You keep an eye behind us.” Butch pointed back. “There are ten other gun platforms out there. The men could come at us from any which way.”

  “You got it,” she said, patting Butch on the hindquarters.

  He chuckled as he set up his rifle. “Don’t distract me!”

  Though they were screwing around, Haley and Butch were deadly serious in their intentions. Butch sprawled out on the ground. Their female partner held up her rifle, scanning behind the truck. He was thoroughly impressed.

  “I’ve got them,” Butch said quietly.

  “I’m going for the shot,” Ezra replied, bracing himself for the look-around. “In three…two…one.”

  He raised his rifle as fast as possible. His breath caught in his windpipe when he saw the man aiming right at him.

  Butch fired once, then four more times in quick succession.

  Ezra backed off without firing. The man popped off a round, which penetrated the sidewall of the tire he was using for cover. It violently exploded with a thunderous pop, nearly giving him a heart attack in the process.

  “Holy shit!” he screamed.

  “He backed off,” Butch yelled.

  Haley checked out the blown tire, then looked at Ezra. “You okay?”

  “I’m good,” Ezra replied, running his fingers through his hair, glad it was still on his head.

  She went back to searching for threats.

  “I missed him, E-Z. Sorry.” Butch stayed where he was, but he’d scooted back a foot or two.

  “They have to know you’re there,” Ezra reasoned. “Don’t stay too long.”

  He wished he had one of the grenades used by TKM to ambush Calvin’s convoy. While they were inside the shipping container, he’d noticed boxes of supplies, but he didn’t think to check what was inside. If the guys at the other truck knew there were grenades in there…

  “Guys, be ready to run.”

  “Where?” Haley replied, nervous.

  “I’m not sure,” he said with total honesty. “But they might have grenades, like before.”

  Butch scooted back another foot. “That’s good thinking, but we’re kinda stuck here.”

  Ezra again wished he knew what Grace was doing on the highway, but the threat of being shot from the side, or having a grenade tossed at him, made him stay tethered to the moment.

  The big man yelled, “They’re coming over!”

  His thunderous heartbeat doubled as Ezra held himself against the back of the tire. If the enemy was on the move, he had no choice but to lean out and shoot.

  For Grace.

  He took a few shallow breaths, unwilling to waste another second. He kept one knee on the ground as he slid sideways, revealing himself enough to hold his rifle at the side of the tire. Four men were coming out from the side of their truck.

  Blood pounded through his skull, making it hard to concentrate on what he had to do. He steadied the rifle in front of him, looked into the scope—
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  The lead man’s head disappeared from his body.

  “Holy shitballs!” Butch cried out.

  A blue shirt and a set of jeans crumpled to the ground like a rolling pile of bones.

  The other men stopped instantly, looking around for what caused their friend’s decapitation. Ezra used the pause to line up his first shot, but the men couldn’t drop their rifles fast enough. They had their hands up as they stood in the middle of the field.

  “That was a big G-D gun,” Butch cheered. “It was a deal-breaker for those assholes. Not that I blame them.”

  For once, the ordnance advantage was on his side.

  But he didn’t celebrate. Ezra came out of his hiding spot and looked out toward Grace. It wasn’t clear what was happening out there.

  “Get in the rig,” he ordered. “We’re going to get my daughter.”

  Outside Boulder, WY

  Grace hopped out of the truck the second it came to a stop. Her hands were shaking and she could barely suck in a breath; she’d never hit a pedestrian before. Now, she’d done it on purpose.

  “I’m going for it,” she said to Asher and Logan, though they were getting out, too.

  Logan scrambled through the good door, stepping out as she ran by.

  Nerio was a mess. She was on the hard shoulder of the two-lane highway, but looked like she’d been dragged across the rocks by a motocross bike. The truck had hit her hard, but it was the hard landing which seemed to have bloodied her the most. Her sniper rifle was thirty feet in the other direction, and the woman didn’t seem to have any other weapons in her tight-fitting uniform, so she was confident standing over her.

  “You?” Nerio asked when she saw Grace come into her field of view. It appeared as if she couldn’t move her neck as she lay frontside down on the pavement.

  “Don’t mess with the park service, lady. Everyone knows that.” She was feeling cocky. “And you dented my truck. I’m going to have to bill you for it.”

  Nerio’s raised eyebrows conveyed her shock.

  Asher and Logan walked up behind Grace, weapons drawn.

  “You!” the injured woman spit out when she saw Logan.

  He smiled. “Hey, what’s up? The Crow Nation called. That bumper mark in your hip is from my people. Especially my dad. He wasn’t too happy you tried to kidnap me.”

  Nerio stirred, as if sheer force of will could repair her wounds. To Grace’s surprise, the woman did manage to move her neck, arms, and legs, but she wasn’t moving fast. “I’m going to kill you,” Nerio grumbled, looking only at Logan. “You killed my Alejandro.”

  Logan wasn’t a kid who cowered in the face of adversity, but he seemed to feed off Grace’s cheeky attitude. “I guess you shouldn’t have been shooting at my friends. I only drove into your loser husband because you endangered them. My dad would say that makes what happened entirely your fault.” He laughed. “So, you should apologize to yourself.”

  Grace motioned to Logan. “Let’s ease back, okay? We’ll take her to your dad.”

  “Don’t bother,” Nerio exhaled. “My men are spread out as I planned. You can’t penetrate any of my bunkers, even with that big gun of yours. I reinforced the walls to withstand direct hits from armor-piercing rounds.”

  She’d watched as Tom hit the shipping boxes. He’d found out fairly quickly he couldn’t punch through. It was when he switched to softer targets.

  “You should have done the same for your drivers. I bet they’re all dead. The truck engines, too.” She looked back to where the rest of the battle was taking place. Only one of the big rigs was moving, though there was still a lot of shooting from the trailers. The crack-bang of the biggest gun on the battlefield continued to rage, too. The Crow sniper was making good use of his last twenty rounds.

  Nerio coughed up some blood. “Damn you, Petteri. I was supposed to be relaxing at my villa down in Caracas. Come up and take over for Misha, he said. You’ll have more money than you can fit in a bank, he said. Typical lies.”

  Grace wondered if she knew about the hitman. A surly part of her conscience, the section pissed at the woman for shooting at her dad, insisted she rub it in the woman’s face. “You might have taken over for Misha, but he got the better of you. He’s recovering in a hospital at this very moment.”

  The redheaded woman had chunks of her bangs stuck in her eyes, but she didn’t move her hands to clear them. Instead, she slowly turned toward Grace and gave her a glare capable of turning most girls to stone.

  “It’s true,” Grace said in a glib voice.

  Nerio rolled her face into the concrete, seemingly oblivious to pain.

  A semitruck approached from behind Grace, its engine rising and falling as the driver shifted through the gears. Maybe one of the enemy drivers finally figured out it was time to escape. Maybe—

  Nerio rocked to her side, revealing a small pistol in her hand. The front of her top had a zipper down the middle, and she’d apparently pulled out the hidden weapon. “Don’t friggin’ move,” the woman said in her South American accent, pointing the gun at Grace’s face.

  Grace lowered her rifle a little, but not all the way. If she gave up her advantage, a woman with no scruples might shoot her anyway. She had to keep her talking.

  “There’s nowhere to go. You can’t shoot all three of us. We have the advantage.”

  The redheaded woman finally wiped the lost bangs out of her eyes. She half turned, seeing the semitruck rolling down the highway toward her, then she waved at it. “I’m going to get on my truck and get out of this hellhole. Don’t try anything and maybe I’ll let you live.”

  The truck was closing in fast. Grace hadn’t planned what to do with the woman when she drove over her. All she wanted to do was protect her dad. If the standoff led to Nerio escaping, but everyone else she cared about getting to live until tomorrow, she figured it was worth it. Still, she didn’t let her rifle barrel drop all the way.

  “The truck’s not stopping,” Asher commented, as if trying to mediate.

  “It’ll stop,” Nerio said with assurance, again waving her arm to flag it down. She stepped next to the yellow line of the paved lane, giving Grace an idea.

  “Nope, it’s not,” Asher said again, maintaining his poise.

  Nerio turned her head and sized up the truck. She seemed to calculate speed and distance, before turning back toward Grace. “Aw, the hell with it. I surrend—”

  The assassin half crouched, whipped her tiny pistol toward Logan, and fired.

  The truck was seconds away.

  “No!” Grace shouted, hurling herself bodily against the other woman’s wounded side. She was only a few feet away from Nerio, so it happened in a flash. In that brief instant, Logan sent a round into the woman’s chest right before impact.

  Nerio seemed to ignore the penetrating round, perhaps spending all her remaining hatred and focus on the Crow boy. She didn’t expect the shove, however. Caught unaware, Nerio took two steps backward.

  The flat edge of the truck’s bumper caught her square on the thigh. Unlike being hit by the Suburban, she hadn’t prepared to dodge it, so she took the full brunt of the giant vehicle. Grace heard several bones crack, even as Nerio let out a brief yelp.

  “Oh my God!” Grace yelled as the giant machine passed by only a few inches from her face. She balanced on the edge of falling forward until Asher grabbed her police belt and yanked her back to safety.

  In one brief moment, she caught a glimpse of the driver’s hair.

  The operator slammed on his brakes and locked up the tires with loud, big-dog barks. When the heavy machine came to a halt, Nerio’s body slid forward another twenty or thirty feet.

  “Thanks, Ash,” she said with a huge smile. “I know who it is.”

  She ran down the highway to where the driver had come to a stop. The man behind the wheel smiled down at Grace as he opened the door, looking as surprised as she about how they were meeting.

  “Hey, honey,” he said with a friendly wave.
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br />   “Dad!” she cried out with relief.

  Chapter 22

  Outside Boulder, WY

  After Ezra watched the TKM man’s head get removed, the tone of the battlefield changed entirely. Those closest to the victim threw up their hands, desperate not to meet the same fate. The guards in the shipping units nearby also stopped firing, perhaps knowing the trucks were out of commission and they were trapped. Many of the others gave up, too. The ceasefire provided an opportunity for him to get in the semi, quickly turn it around, then race toward Grace.

  Along the way, he couldn’t see what was happening other than his daughter was out of her truck, standing next to highway talking to the sniper. Reading the situation, he judged that he needed to get there as fast as possible. However, when he was about to hit the brakes and stop, the sniper-woman pulled out a gun.

  “Grace!”

  Ezra held his breath as he willed the truck forward. There were four people standing in a clump. It would be dangerous to try to hit the sniper; he might also clip Grace. Events, as always, quickly went out of his control.

  The woman fired her gun.

  The boy returned a shot from his rifle.

  Grace lunged for the redheaded sniper.

  “No!” He crushed the brake pedal, sure Grace and the sniper were both going to be struck by his anvil of steel. The impact barely made an impression on him. Instead, he bounced up and down as the brakes fought to hold the ground.

  “Did I hit her?” he asked, barely aware Butch and Haley were in the passenger seat together.

  Once stopped, he quickly kicked open the door to see what he’d done.

  His little angel stood there, looking up at him.

  Air rushed into his lungs as if a dam had collapsed. Composing himself, he tried to think of something to say that would dispel the fear still draining out of him.

  “Hey, honey,” he said with his friendliest wave.

  “Dad!” she replied.

  Butch and Haley expressed relief, but he was out the door before they could say anything. In his haste, he slid off the top step, clumsily catching himself on the lower one. Then he tried to recover as he stepped down to the pavement.