BLACK

Impact Series

Book 5

By

E.E. Isherwood

Mike Kraus

© 2020 Muonic Press Inc

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Table of Contents

CHAPTER 1

CHAPTER 2

CHAPTER 3

CHAPTER 4

CHAPTER 5

CHAPTER 6

CHAPTER 7

CHAPTER 8

CHAPTER 9

CHAPTER 10

CHAPTER 11

CHAPTER 12

CHAPTER 13

CHAPTER 14

CHAPTER 15

CHAPTER 16

CHAPTER 17

CHAPTER 18

CHAPTER 19

CHAPTER 20

CHAPTER 21

CHAPTER 22

CHAPTER 23

CHAPTER 24

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Special Thanks

Special thanks to my awesome beta team, without whom this book wouldn’t be nearly as great.

Thank you!

IMPACT Book 6

Available Here

CHAPTER 1

Sidney, NE

Grace startled herself awake. The train had been rumbling along the tracks since their escape from Denver, and the diesel engine’s whine put her to sleep not long after the sun went down. Now, in the front seat of her park service Chevy Suburban, she saw sunlight. “We’re out of Denver?”

Asher sat next to her, tapping on his expensive watch-phone. “Yep. We’ve been out of Denver for a long time. We’re in Nebraska. Nothing but flat fields and high grass.” Unlike the boring stretches of eastern Wyoming, Nebraska wasn’t as flat. There was a slight imperfection to the land, as if the horizon were ten feet higher or lower than their current position.

Shawn’s deep voice spoke from the rear seat. “I live on the plains, and even I don’t recognize where we are.”

Grace looked to the seats behind her. Shawn Runs Hard sat next to his boy. Diedre, Asher’s sister, sat against the far door, directly behind Asher. Her shoulder had bled through one of the blue security shirts they’d borrowed. The seat was stained. Twisting, she also saw bloodstains on the seat under Shawn’s leg.

“You two doing all right? We need to find a doctor.”

“I’ll be fine,” the big Crow man announced proudly.

Diedre was less enthusiastic, but she flashed a thumbs-up sign.

When they’d escaped Petteri’s security forces the night before, they’d done it on a train piloted by a group of men who’d been repairing the engine. As a kindness, they’d placed Grace’s truck on a flatbed car with a crane, so she would have it at their destination. She and the others had spent the overnight hours in the truck, which sat alone, secured to the flatbed. It was the last car on the train. A single green boxcar was linked between it and the diesel engine.

They’d arrived somewhere; the final lurch of the stop was what must have awakened her.

“It looks like we’re at another repair yard,” she said. Six parallel rows of tracks led into several hangars, almost identical to the one where they’d started their journey. Hundreds of train cars, mostly coal hoppers, waited on the tracks.

Beyond the buildings and tracks, there was nothing but wild grasses and squares of farmland with grass-like crops, which made it seem like Grace and her friends were on a tiny metal island in the middle of a green sea.

“We could ask that guy.” Asher pointed to Robert, the older Hispanic man in the grease-covered jumpsuit who was responsible for their escape. He stood about a hundred yards away, talking to several of his peers in front of a covered shed with more trains inside.

“I’m on it,” Grace said, opening her door. She had to carefully step outside while avoiding the edge of the train car. Once the door was shut, she sat on the wooden frame, then lowered herself down. When she walked toward the front of the three-car train, she saw Asher doing the same thing on the other side.

He smiled at her through the gap behind the engine.

When they met in front of the big orange machine, they closed ranks. “Fancy meeting you here,” she said, glad he was with her.

“What can I say? I’m trying to be a good partner.” Unlike her, he’d grabbed his rifle; it was slung over his shoulder.

“Well, after yesterday—” Behind the building, miles away, motion in the air caught her attention. A helicopter traveled the sky, not far off the ground, reminding her of a crop duster fertilizing the fields. “—I’d say you’re a great partner.” Together, they’d traveled hundreds of miles across multiple devastated states and made it all the way to Petteri himself.

“Thanks,” he beamed, before continuing. “I managed to get a signal before we left Denver. I told my folks we weren’t coming to the house and they should get somewhere safe outside the city. Petteri’s goons can’t get to me through them. They promised they would leave as soon as we hung up…”

“You don’t sound so sure,” she replied.

He stopped and held her from walking ahead. “My parents are stubborn.”

She tried to lighten the mood. “Now I know where you get it.”

Asher smiled at her. “I think they got the message. They said the radio has nothing but news about how TKM was shooting people downtown. I think that put the fear of God in them.”

Grace pulled out her phone, but it showed zero signal. Not surprising given their remote location. “I wanted to text my dad last night, but he doesn’t have a phone. I was going to try to contact the last number he called me from to see if they’d heard anything from him, but it never connected. I’d do it now, but you know…we’re off the grid.”

He perked up. “I’ve been thinking about that. Why don’t you change your voicemail message? Tell your dad we’re heading east, and he shouldn’t go to my parents’ house. When he finally gets to a phone, he’ll dial your number and hear your plans when he goes to leave a message.”

“It’s pretty brilliant, but I don’t have a signal,” she said, hopeful and disappointed at the same time.

“No problem. When it links back up, your voice message will automatically update. This way you don’t have to worry about it, for now.”

She was already tapping on her phone. “Dad, if you get this message, I’m heading east on a train. Please don’t go to Denver. TKM is trying to hurt us. They’ll try to hurt you if you show up.” She paused, thinking how to end it. “If you hear this, please tell me you’re all right. And tell me where you are. We need a new place to meet. For now, I love you.”

Grace almost hung up, but added one of her trademark claps, putting the game back in Dad’s court. Only then did she feel all right hanging up.

“You going to be okay?” Asher prodded, putting his hand on hers as she held the phone.

“It was a great idea, Ash. Let’s figure out where we are, and maybe I can update my message when we have a better place picked out to meet my dad.”

He withdrew his hand. “Sounds good.”

They walked next to a long line of oily, black coal cars.

Robert caught sight of them arriving. “Hey, you two.” He left his worker friends and met them next to one of the train tracks. “I’m glad you’re awake.”

She waved him off. “Where are we?”

The greasy man ran his fingers through his hair, then scrubbed his forehead with his sleeve. It appeared as if he’d already been hard at work. “We’re at the Sidney Progress repair yard. It’s kind of a sister shop to the one I work at in Denver. I’ve ferried cars up here for years. This is where they fix them up.”

“You went somewhere you were familiar with,” she said, knowing the feeling.

Robert nodded. “Bingo. Go with what you know. With all the shooting back in Denver, I’m glad to be out here in the wide-open country. However, I didn’t expect all this action. There must be a thousand broken cars here. A dozen engines are waiting to take them after the boys fix ’em.”

“What’s it all mean?” she asked, taking notice of how many cars were being serviced inside the machine shop.

“Every hopper car in America is being drawn into TKM’s asteroid dig sites, apparently. Mostly it is TKM doing the drawing, but other companies are trying to cash in by leasing their cars at ten times the market price of freight. It’s driven up the value of these busted cars…” He pointed all around them.

The whumping action of the helicopter rotors carried in on the air. Grace tried to ignore it for a few seconds, but it was unmistakably approaching their position. She pointed behind Robert. “I don’t suppose you also repair helicopters? It looks like they’re coming right for us.”

The older man turned. “Ah, a MH-60 Blackhawk. Like from the movies. If I had to guess, I’d say the military was doing a sweep of the area. I wonder what they want?”

Grace had other ideas. She tugged at Asher’s hand. “Let’s move.”

Near Columbia, MO

“After getting everything we needed to survive out in the wilderness, how the hell did we miss the most important thing?” Ezra asked as he, Butch, and Haley stirred in the early morning mist on the river.

“Coffee?” Butch replied.

“A protein shake?” Haley added, cuddling her puggle in her arms.

“No. Sleeping bags and pillows. Either of them would have made sleeping in the boat a lot less like the torture I endured last night.”

Haley sat up, stretching. “Eh, it wasn’t too bad. I guess I’m a little sore. I had this pack as a pillow.”

Butch laughed. “It wasn’t half as bad as Iraq. At least last night I was fairly certain we wouldn’t get shot at. There was still a slight chance, mind you, but that’s the cost of doing business with E-Z.”

Ezra realized he was the only one who’d been miserable. The two kids could probably sleep on concrete and be happy. They were young.

Last night, they’d sped upriver to escape the TKM search parties around St. Charles. They found fuel near Herman, Missouri, and traveled another forty miles before calling a halt. They’d agreed to hide the boat in a side channel and skip posting a guard, so everyone was able to sleep. Ezra was awake most of the night anyway, which was why he was the one to greet the others as they woke up.

“I’m going to let Liam do his business. I’ll take Victoria with me, too.” Haley slid the cat carrier to the front edge of the boat where it was easy to hop down onto the riverbank. She also pulled out a travel litter box and other gear, though Ezra had no idea what she planned to do with it.

Butch watched her debark as if she were the star of a popular TV program.

As soon as the young woman was out of earshot, he scooted closer to Butch. “Hey, I’m glad we picked up the extra passenger, plus her two friends, but I’m worried this is going to be too dangerous for her. We know there’s been a disaster in Kansas City. All the trash we saw floating by last night was enough of a clue. Once we get past it, we still have another six hundred miles before we reach Denver.” He scratched his chin. “I don’t know if a cat in a box can make it.”

Part of why he’d agreed to allow Haley on board was how obvious it was Butch had been smitten. He judged it likely the youngster would have stayed in St. Charles to be with her, rather than stick it out with him on the boat. To avoid forcing the issue, he’d accepted Haley’s offer to join them. At the time, they were all being pursued by TKM, so it was safer to stick together. However, with each town they’d passed along the river, he wondered if she’d be safer on shore. It was his first chance to speak in private with Butch about his concerns.

“Don’t worry about her. I’ll keep an eye on her pets. I love that little dog, don’t you?” He laughed, checking the shore as if expecting the dog to run out of the woods to him.

“Well, it’s just—” Ezra started to say, before Butch stopped him.

“I know what you’re thinking. Is JJ Butcher going to blow the mission because he’s got other things on his mind?” He took a deep breath. “I can’t deny she’s a ten on this Kentucky boy’s country music volume meter, but I made a promise to you, E-Z. We’re going to find your daughter. From what I’ve seen, she’s as tough as either of us. I think she’ll help us more than slow us down.”

Ezra had expected such an answer. It would have shocked him if the kid had suggested dropping her off. However, he’d made his position known, as did Butch. By the time Haley and her pals were back on the pontoon boat, he knew he could rely on his friend.

“What were you two boys talking about while we were gone?” Haley passed a glance between him and Butch, but she spent more time on his buddy.

“My daughter,” he said dryly. “I told her we’d meet in Denver, but we’ve been dragging butt the last few days. I’d like to find a phone so I can call and see if she’s waiting for us.”

“You can use mine!” Haley said, pulling a slim black smartphone from a pocket in her Yoga pants.

“Oh, thanks.” Ezra dialed Grace’s number, but it didn’t ring. It instantly went to voicemail. Her voice message had been changed.

“Dad, if you get this message, I’m heading east on a train. Please don’t go to Denver. TKM is trying to hurt us. They’ll try to hurt you if you show up.” She hesitated before continuing. “If you hear this, please tell me you’re all right. And tell me where you are. We need a new place to meet. For now, I love you.” It ended with a smacking sound, which was obviously her clapping into the microphone.

He thought about what to say. He glanced at Butch. “Things have changed. I have to leave a message.”

After the beep, he spoke. “Hi Grace. Me and Butch are on the river, moving closer to you. I think we’re close to Columbia, Missouri. That puts us…about a week out of Denver, though we won’t go there now.” He laughed. “But seriously, we’re making our way slowly out west where we can meet up. Wherever you end up, I’ll get there. Please call me back at this number. It belongs to a young woman traveling with us. I love you, kiddo. Talk soon.” He clapped once, laughing as he did it, then hung up.

“I hope you win your game, E-Z,” Butch said with sarcasm.

“Oh, I’m just happy to have some fun with her. Winning isn’t part of it.”

Butch laughed. “Whatever you say.” He then clapped while wearing an expectant expression.

Ezra shook his head. “Don’t get me started. One game is plenty for me.”

“Party pooper,” Butch said, pretending to be hurt.

After handing the phone back, and securing all the loose gear on the floor, it was time to start the boat.

Ezra got in his captain’s chair, followed a second later by Liam. The little brown puggle hopped on his lap and braced his front paws on the steering wheel, as if ready to pilot the boat himself.

“Oh, sorry,” Haley said, trying to grab the pup.

“It’s fine,” Ezra replied. “I’m currently winning my clapping competition and I feel like this little guy is going to bring us more good luck today.”

CHAPTER 2

Sidney, NE

Grace and Asher trotted inside the entrance of the railway repair shed, which reminded her of an oversized barn made of metal. The inside was spacious, about a hundred yards long on each side, with enough room for all six tracks to go in through the front doors. Like the repair yard in Denver, the place had several hoists and cranes, some holding pieces of the numerous coal cars in for repair.

Asher stood closest to the exit. “If TKM has an attack helicopter, we’re screwed.”

Many of the men stayed outside the building, as if they didn’t share the urgency of she and Asher felt. Robert came in, however. “I don’t think there’s a military base within hundreds of miles of here. I’ve never seen a helicopter at this shop, if it comforts you at all.”

“It doesn’t,” she said dryly.

Robert gestured to Asher’s rifle. “At least you have one of those.”

She was glad to have it, for sure, but it wasn’t exactly comforting. “If we have to go against a helicopter, I don’t think any weapon in our arsenal would make a difference. Plus, who knows how many men they have on board?”

The helicopter was almost there. She had enough time to look at her ruined Chevy park service vehicle, aware her friends needed to stay hidden inside. Two injured people and one teenager were no threat to anyone. She prayed they didn’t try to get out.

The rotor noise echoed off the metal frame of the building and reverberated inside the spacious interior as it neared. The dull gray helicopter came in about fifty feet above the ground, passing over the middle of the train yard at a high rate of speed.

It passed in seconds, going over the fields to the south.

“Well, I guess it was nothing—” she started to say.

The helicopter banked to the left.

“Or, maybe it was…” she finished.

“It’s definitely coming back,” Asher said, sounding worried.

More of the workers came inside the building, obviously concerned about the aircraft making unusual maneuvers over their heads. Most stood by the entrance, as she and Asher were doing.

“Ash,” she whispered, “we have to warn the others. I’m sure they’re here for us.”

He glanced between her and the truck. “You want to run out there?” He sounded uncertain.

She shrugged, feeling her stomach clench up. “What else can we do?”

The helicopter flew in a wide banking arc, now lining up with the tracks coming in from the east. She pointed back to the flatcar with her truck. “If we keep close to the coal cars, it should shield us from the air.”

There was no time to debate the finer points of the plan. She shot a glance to Robert. “We’ll be right back.”

She and Asher sprinted across a short patch of open ground, then ran next to the blackened coal hoppers. The helicopter had come around a bit wide, which put it on the opposite side of the rolling stock.

“They’re getting out of the truck!” she yelled to Ash, who was a handful of steps behind her.

Ahead, the three passengers were out of the Suburban. They’d exited on the driver’s side of the truck, which was on the opposite side of the flatcar relative to her and Asher, but hadn’t gotten down.

“Guys!” she called out.

The helicopter glided in a hundred yards behind their tiny train. The rear cargo door had been opened; a woman sat back there, dressed entirely in dark clothing. Her long black hair blew wildly in the rotor wash, though it didn’t seem to bother her. She held a long rifle in her hands. Grace got a look at the huge scope when the woman dipped her eye to it.

“Get down!”

The tear of metal close by was followed an instant later by a crack of thunder from the woman’s gun. The bullet had come down and struck the metal ladder at the back of the boxcar, not far from her friends.

Logan and his dad tumbled off the flatcar. Shawn’s leg collapsed under him, though Logan quickly pulled him under the car itself. Diedre remained where she was. As a second and third shot rang out, she threw herself under the truck.

Asher fumbled with his rifle, intent on returning fire, but Grace didn’t want him to tangle with a hovering shooter with a big gun. She grabbed his shirt and yanked him backward, and down. “Get behind a coal car! We need a plan.”

Several more shots clapped out, some striking very close. Plinks of metal and the crunch of wood indicated the woman had aimed at her and Asher in addition to the three people huddled by the wooden freight car.

The helicopter hovered sideways, then canted a bit forward, as it apparently searched for better shots on her and her friends. All at once, it leaned sideways and banked away from them.

“What’s she doing?” Asher asked.

The rotary aircraft made a wide loop out to the last of the coal cars, perhaps a quarter of a mile away. When it shifted position, lurking closer, Grace noticed a pickup truck parked in that direction, as if it were watching the attack take place.

“Get out of there!” she shouted to the others. Logan and Shawn had been ready. They came out from under the flatcar. Shawn strained to take weight off his injured leg, but he waddled fast enough.

Diedre was slower getting off the flatbed.

Grace saw an opportunity. “We’ll get them over to this side. We’ll get lost in the rows of coal hoppers.”

Asher frantically searched the skies for where the helicopter had gone. She checked it out, too, wondering if the pilot was sneaking up on them from another direction. It didn’t matter, however. The lines of steel hoppers would shield them from multiple directions.

“Guys, run to the coal cars!” she yelled.

Her three friends had left the safety found under the flatcar and were crawling under the joint between the flatcars and boxcars when the helicopter reappeared. It came in from the direction of the lines of coal cars, but it ended up roughly in the same place it had been before. The woman was still in the back, but she now sat in front of a huge machine gun positioned at the edge of the door.

“Get down!” Grace screamed.

Columbia, MO

Once they were on the water, Ezra became fascinated by the lengths Haley went to get her cat out of its cage. She found a five-foot length of paracord, tied it onto her little collar, and let the kitty roam free. However, the cat didn’t seem to savor its freedom; it fell over and wouldn’t move. When she saw Ezra watching the proceedings, she spoke over the engine’s growl. “She’ll get used to it. I’m sure she won’t jump in the water willingly, but Butch mentioned we might hit something in the river that could stop us. I don’t want Victoria to lose her footing and fall in. That would be a bad day for all of us, I assure you.”

He laughed, knowing cats weren’t fond of the water. “It’s all fine by me. It looks like you’ve figured out a nice system for her. But what about your other pal?” He glanced down at Liam, who remained on his lap. He’d expected the chubby little dog to get off right away, but he’d stayed put for the past hour, which suggested the loud motor scared him.

“Good point,” she replied, pulling out his leash. Liam was accepting of being put on a rope. He licked her hands as she fidgeted with his collar but didn’t hop down or move a paw to surrender his spot at the steering wheel.

Ezra was happy to have the company, so he made sure the pup was comfy.

Soon after his chat with Haley, Butch pointed ahead. “Veer left!”

“Whoa!” he said, making the turn.

A giant white rectangle floated by. “It’s a fiberglass swimming pool.” Ezra was impressed watching it go by. Where had it come from?

“Can we stop for a swim?” Butch joked. A little water sloshed inside, as if it had been filled with splashing overflow from the river. If there’d been time, he could have docked with the pool and taken a dip. As it was…

“Crap,” he exclaimed. The pool was the leading piece of a flotilla of debris floating in the water. “We’ve got to pull over.”

He regretted saying the puggle was going to bring them luck. Still, he rubbed the dog behind the ears as he avoided the oncoming mess.

From the safety of the riverbank, they watched as a thick patch of trash and household goods floated by. It was almost as bad as the mashup of junk that made them take shelter in St. Charles. For a long time, they watched with interest as numerous floating objects went by. The backs of tanker trucks. Flipped speed boats. Runaway cargo barges. A stray grain silo.

“This must be from another town, farther up the river from Kansas City. It took longer to get here.” Ezra imagined he was watching the lifeblood of a city float by.

“How long do you think this will take?” Haley asked, holding Victoria to her chest.

“It could be hours. When we saw the remains of Kansas City float by, it took most of a day to clear out.”

“It’s why we ran into you,” Butch said proudly.

She smiled. “I can be patient.”

It took until lunch time before the river cleared up enough he thought it was safe to drive into the muddy current again. He even waited another half hour to be absolutely sure. If they blew a propeller, there was nowhere close to get a replacement.

“And away we go!” he said dramatically as he got the boat moving again.

They’d cruised about five minutes before a bridge appeared ahead of them.

“Let’s see where we are.” Ezra had borrowed a Missouri map during their visit to Bass Pro, which he’d studied many times since leaving St. Charles. He pointed to the upcoming bridge featuring gray metal trusswork above a small portion of the span closest to the eastern shore. “That’s the crossing for Interstate 70. We’re beyond Columbia, now. The next bridge is at Boonville, which isn’t far.”

She looked over her shoulder to him. “You’re measuring our progress using bridges?”

He smiled, face buffeted by the wind flow. “They’re the only markers I can make sense of. There are so many trees along the banks, sometimes I don’t even know when we pass these little towns. The bridges, we can’t miss. I know we have five of them before we get to the outskirts of Kansas City.”

“Will we get there today?” she asked.

“Yep. As long as we can get gas, it’s only about a hundred and fifty miles from this bridge coming up. We could knock it out in four or five hours, under ideal conditions.” The speedometer hovered around thirty miles an hour; it wasn’t as fast as the pontoon boat would go, but it was a safe cruising speed for fuel economy. He had his map, and knew there were towns ahead, but finding gas was never a given. Better to temper the speed and keep extra in the tank.

She patted Liam on the head and spoke in her silly doggy voice. “Who’s a happy puppy? Are you driving the ship, you little puffball?”

Liam tried to lick her on the chin.

“All right, let’s not interrupt the driver,” she laughed, going back to her seat.

Cars and trucks zoomed across the span as they got closer, but he also took note of a few vehicles stopped almost above the middle of the river. There was a huge concrete pylon directly beneath them, so he needed to veer to the right to avoid the middle section.

He watched Haley find a seat near Butch on his left. She barely noticed Victoria had stretched her cord and gone under his legs, tucking herself into the less windy nook created by the steering wheel and dashboard.

I didn’t know I was going to be the one taking care of the pets.

Ezra found it humorous. How many times had Grace come home with guinea pigs, hamsters, or other rodents, swearing this would be the time she finally learned to take care of them herself? And each time, it was dear old dad cleaning cages or filling food bowls. It was—

Movement up on the bridge caught his eye. Men ran alongside the parked cars. Men who seemed interested in looking over the side. He held the throttle tight, though he wasn’t sure why.

“Are those trucks up there? Blue trucks?” He’d spoken loud enough for Butch to hear him. The young man looked back to Ezra, then up to the bridge. They were approaching at an angle, and were only a couple hundred yards away, so it was getting difficult to see the trucks on the deck. However, the men scurrying at the edge were easier to identify.

So were their rifles.

He hit the throttle and banked to the right, shoving Liam between his legs.

“We’re in trouble,” he confirmed.

Denver, CO

It was a new day in Denver, but Petteri’s grip on things was slipping. The rock was secure; his ragtag crew of security personnel had managed to push back the other miners and their own shooters. However, having control of the giant chunk of 586001 Tuonela didn’t mean much if his dump trucks couldn’t get the ore out of the city. They were surrounded by clogged streets and hostile locals. The situation was made worse by the big hole in his organization.

“Tell me again what happened yesterday.” He’d called Dorothy to his office to refresh his memory on how he lost his executive officer.

Dorothy had been there when Asher and his terrorist buddies got the jump on him and his security backup. He was pleased she’d survived, though if he were honest with himself, it would have been better if Howard had come through instead. Looking over to the young woman, her black hair was disheveled, and a dark bruise lurked along the hairline above her left ear.

“Well, sir, we all stood in the lobby with you when someone from out on the street started shooting at us.”

“Did you see who it was?” he interrupted. For his part, he’d been pulled to the ground by his security man the second the first shot went off, though he got up and ran immediately after hitting the floor. It was part of his survival instinct. He justified not waiting for the other guy by reminding himself how important he was to the operation. There was a reason the company was named after him.

“Yes,” she nodded, “it was a teen boy. I think he was with the other Native American man. The chief guy.”

“A teen boy?” he said with distaste. “He’s the one who killed Howard?”

Dorothy thought about it for a short time. Long enough he almost prodded her to answer.

“After you left, the guards went down. Howard, survived, I think, but Asher and the park lady grabbed guns and fired at us. I curled into a little ball on the ground, but Howard fought back. I…uh, can’t say for sure who killed him. When all the gunfire was over, they kicked me in the head”—she pointed to the bruise on her temple—“and told me to get lost.”

Her eyes glistened as if on the verge of tears. Seeing it surprised him; she’d been solid as a rock since he’d met her. However, she was young, and a woman who’d suffered through a traumatic event. It was to be expected.

“You’ll be happy to know I have a pair of experts tracking them down now. Nerio Torres and her husband are two of the best people on my payroll when it comes to…cleanup.”

She sat up. “I don’t care how they do it. Those people need to pay for what they did to us. But, wait, who’s in charge of your security after…”

“After Howard?”

She bowed her head.

Petteri pressed a button on his desk phone. “Miss, please send in Mr. Aarons.” He hung up with his administrative assistant. Since he was on the road, he traveled with a lighter staff. Back at headquarters, he would have taken the time to get to know the ladies answering his phones, but on the job site none of his usual song and dance was necessary. He didn’t care what his people thought of him, as long as they did what he asked.

A young man walked through the door of the conference room. His face was bracketed by a dark, full beard, which Petteri instantly hated. However, the guy had worked under Howard for five or six years. The major had often said Craig Aarons was the one guy he trusted if he ever retired from TKM. The man stood at attention, as if Petteri were a general in the army. An act which almost negated Petteri’s distaste of the man’s facial hair.

“Mr. Aarons, thank you for coming on such short notice. I know you’ve been down on the streets with the others, but I had to call you upstairs last night for a reason I’m sure you already know. Howard was killed by terrorist elements.”

Aarons nodded grimly. He was dressed to kill: black combat boots, black tactical pants, and a blue TKM security shirt. His belt was bulging with ammo clips and whatever else you called the equipment soldiers wore on the battlefield. However, he didn’t see any weapons.

“Where’s your gun?” he asked.

Craig looked directly into his eyes. “Sir, I didn’t want to scare anyone in your office by carrying my weapons. I’ve left them with my team captain on the next floor down.”

He was taken aback. “Scare us? Your job is to protect us. How are you going to do that without your gun? I want you to go right back down there, arm up, and then come back. Don’t ever be in my presence without at least two guns. Do you understand?” His anger rose with each word, but he caught himself before launching into a tirade. Howard had known exactly what Petteri wanted since they’d worked together for so long. It would take time for Aarons to get with the program. He tried to soften his next words. “I want you armed, soldier, in case our prisoner frees himself and comes after me. You wouldn’t want that on your record, would you?”

Aarons had turned to go out the door, but he stopped to look back. “Sir? We don’t have any prisoners. Well, I mean, we did have one, but he got out last night. Didn’t Nerio tell you?”

Petteri’s blood froze in his veins. “Tell me what? Who’s escaped?” There was only one person who was being held captive. One person who he’d come within a second of killing but was prevented from doing so by Nerio. One person who was taken into custody and secured inside a locked room by that same woman.

“Miss Torres caught me after she came back from the parents’ house of one of the terrorists who killed Howard. She said they had no luck there, but also explained Misha Gagarin had somehow escaped from this building. She told me the two of you arranged for her to go after him, and I wouldn’t need to report it to you. I’m sorry if I was supposed to—”

“Dammit!” he slammed his fists on his desk. “Go get your weapon, ten men, and guard every inch of this floor. From this minute forward, you write down every person who even glances in your direction and give me updates about it every half hour. Go!”

He slumped in his chair. Dorothy’s eyes were fearful, so he went ahead and tossed her some comforting words. “Don’t worry. Howard trusted this man completely. He’ll be fine. I’m more worried about Nerio. She’s like a feral cat when on the hunt. She likes to play with her food…”

CHAPTER 3

Sidney, NE

Grace and Asher dove in between two of the parked coal hoppers, barely missing the connector linking them together. At the same time, a brrrrrt sound belted out from above. The metal cars replied with a hundred zings as the bullets from the machine gun rained down on them.

“Holy crap!” she cried out, blood surging through her temples. She hugged the back end of the metal coal car, hoping it was thick enough to shield her.

The next volley went into the wooden flatcar and her truck.

“Oh no!” she shouted. Her worry was for Diedre, not her truck. She’d been slowest to climb down and had been behind Logan and his dad while they struggled to get underneath the hookup. Was she still over there?

She couldn’t look away. The helicopter hovered sideways, coming closer to being directly above them. The woman aimed her spinning machine gun at the train engine below her, perhaps thinking someone had gone under it. The brrrrt of belched-out rounds tore into the side of the big orange diesel. Scanning the flatbed, and the crawlspace under the boxcar, Grace could see that none of her friends were visible.

“They moved,” she said breathlessly to Asher.

“Are they safe?” he asked while smashed against the car with her.

“Can’t tell. They must be over here with us.” She’d motioned for them to come over right as the woman fired her guns. She prayed they’d made it to safety.

The machine gun cranked over another time, and about five long seconds of bullets streamed down into the parked coal hoppers. They all had a distinctive metallic ring when striking and bouncing against metal. However, they also had unusual angles around the reinforced sides and ends, sparking worry one of those bullets might ricochet and somehow tag them beneath their protective shield.

For a few seconds, the machine gun went quiet.

“Maybe she ran out of ammo,” she said with a hopeful voice.

“I really doubt—” he said, before halting. In the distance, a boom went off, sounding like the thump of an airburst firework.

“What now?” she lamented.

The boom resonated again. This time it was followed by a change in pitch of the helicopter rotors. It was enough to get her to check around the corner. “She’s moving!”

The explosion happened a third time. She caught sight of a puff of white smoke at the truck she’d spotted earlier. Even from a quarter of a mile away, she saw a man aiming an impossibly large rifle in their direction. He had it propped on the hood of his blue pickup truck.

“Jeez, she brought friends.”

As Grace watched, her initial impression quickly changed. The man with the rifle shifted his stance, aiming the weapon at the helicopter now veering away from the trains, over the fields. He fired again, but then pulled the gun off his hood and disappeared out of view.

“I think maybe he was firing at the woman,” she ventured, afraid she saw it wrong, but praying she was right.

The aircraft swooped in a long arc around the mystery truck, as if wary of being targeted again. However, after going around it once, the pilot went back into hover mode, changing the orientation so the woman’s machine gun faced the truck. From there, it was obvious what was about to happen.

“Why doesn’t he fire again?” she wondered, mostly to herself.

Asher came around to join her. He leaned on her back, looking over her shoulder. “Would you stick around if that thing was on top of you?”

“But he was fighting back,” she replied.

The woman’s gun chugged out rounds for a solid ten seconds. The report came on the wind as the truck’s tires exploded, every bit of glass shattered, and the fuel tank was penetrated, sending the back end up in a fireball. A much bigger explosion erupted from the first, creating a blackened mushroom cloud.

The hovering copter had to back up midair to avoid being tagged by the smoke. However, it stayed for twenty or thirty seconds, as if waiting to see if anyone walked out of the firestorm. Eventually, it tilted forward, beginning its advance back to them.

“Shit, she’s not giving up.” Frantic to make sure her friends were in secure hiding places, she tried to find Shawn, Logan, or Diedre, but they weren’t anywhere in sight.

Asher pointed. “She’s there! My sister is under one of these coal cars. You can see her shirt about five cars up the line.”

“Do you see the boys?” she asked, aware the helicopter was seconds from being above them.

“No, I—” He hesitated. “It’s turning away!”

She peeked out. The helicopter had banked again, out over the farm fields. The engine sound was different, too.

“It’s smoking,” Asher declared.

The rotor wash made it difficult to spot, but the more she studied the retreating bird, the easier it was to see the black smoke pouring out one side. Unexpectedly, the pilot adjusted his route so the woman could turn her machine gun back to them.

“Get down!” she ordered, falling to the rocks.

The bullets came in before the brrrrt. Pinging ricochets struck multiple cars, train engines, and the metal buildings of the train yard. Men and women cursed from almost every direction.

She realized Asher had fallen on top of her, though she doubted his body would stop one of those military-grade projectiles. She also figured out they were both on the wrong side of the coal cars, now that the woman was out over the field. The machine gun bursts stopped and restarted three or four times as they lay there.

“Good God,” Asher stated. “I think she’s pissed about her broken helicopter.”

Finally, the rotary machine gun went silent.

“No kidding she’s upset at us,” she said, testing a laugh.

The whump whump rotor noise faded completely before Asher shifted to let her up. “Thanks for looking out for me,” she said softly, getting to her feet.

“Anytime,” he smiled, brushing coal dust from his NPS uniform shirt and pants.

By the time they’d emerged from their refuge, Logan and his dad had come out from under the train engine.

“You guys were under there the whole time?” she asked with mild horror. “We thought you were in the coal area, where it was safer.”

Logan smiled, but Shawn was less enthusiastic. He leaned heavily on his boy due to his injured leg.

Diedre rejoined their small group. She came from farther up the line of coal cars.

Grace pointed to the burning truck. “If it doesn’t look like the chopper is coming back, we should go out and see if there are any survivors. Whoever they are, I think they probably saved our lives.”

“We better hurry,” Shawn said quietly. “Or, rather, you guys better hurry. I’m going to stay here with Logan. He’s going to help me see if they have a first aid kit inside. Right, son?” It wasn’t a question.

Logan nodded his head as he helped Shawn walk toward the train shed.

Diedre flashed a smile to her brother but then moved to follow Shawn. “I’m beat up, too. I need to see what they have for pain management.”

Asher seemed torn. Follow his sister or follow her? Grace wouldn’t blame him for tending to his family, but she also didn’t want to go out there alone.

“We’ll make it quick, all right?” she said, hoping to convey confidence.

It seemed to make up his mind. He turned to Diedre. “I’ll be right back, okay?”

She waved over her shoulder with her good arm but kept walking.

“We’re going to take our guns,” Grace assured him. “You can never be too careful.” She climbed onto the flatcar, anxious to see the damage done to her beloved NPS truck.

Near Columbia, MO

He judged they’d have about thirty seconds before they made it directly under the span of the highway. He had the throttle all the way forward, which pumped fuel into the Suzuki outboard to give the full 350-horsepower kick required for life-saving maneuvers.

Butch had fallen next to Haley, using his arm to push her down with him. They were on the floor between the two rows of seats. The big guy looked up once he was certain the young woman was going to stay there. “You want me to return fire?”

There wasn’t time to adjust their gear, get him in position, and fire back. They had twenty seconds until they made it under.

“No!” He veered left, taking them in a more direct path upriver. It kept them a bit closer to the men, but it exposed them for less time.

One of the guys fired straight down at them.

Then another.

The rifle cracks echoed under the girders holding up the highway.

“And…we’re clear!” Ezra ran the boat under the deck, making it impossible to be seen from above. However, he didn’t dare stop. He kept the accelerator smashed forward as he willed his pleasure boat to shoot out of the other side like a cannonball.

“E-Z, I’m getting my rifle.” Butch shifted, reached for his gun, then put his hand on Haley’s back. “Haley, stay where you are!”

“No worries there,” she yelled over the growl of the maxed-out motor.

The pontoons skipped over the eddies and currents swirling around the concrete bridge pylon. He ignored the larger pieces of trash and driftwood that still sullied the brown water. There was no time to worry about dodging obstacles. He thought back to all the times he’d gone as fast on Kentucky Lake. He’d never done it with Susan in the boat—she hated going fast—and he only did it when the surface of the lake was glass smooth.

By the time they came out of the shadows of the big bridge, Butch was finding a position to aim his Bushmaster rifle out the back of the boat.

“Anyone who pops up, you pop them,” Ezra shouted.

“On it,” Butch said, finally settling into his stance.

Meanwhile, Haley found Liam and dragged him into her protective custody. Ezra had enough time to wonder if the cat and dog got along well enough to huddle under her without fighting, but Butch fired his rifle before he could finish his thought. In spite of the young woman’s protective efforts, Liam yelped in response.

“They’re coming to this side,” Butch said, as if reporting the news.

“Keep their heads down!” Ezra suggested.

His rifle barked several times in a row. A shot. Two-second pause. Another shot. Butch was a professional, but he’d never trained in hitting small targets while bouncing around in the back of a boat. It would have shocked Ezra if he scored a hit.

At the same time, he nudged the wheel left and right, giving them a slight wiggle in their escape path. He didn’t know if it was enough to throw the enemy off their line, but it had to be better than nothing. The boat was going too fast to make dramatic changes in direction. He didn’t want to bleed off too much speed, either.

Ezra almost jumped out of his seat when the depth finder exploded.

“Damn!” He flinched.

He flicked the wheel reflexively, adding an evasive turn a bit to the left. The depth finder had already been hit once by a bullet the other day. Now it was gone; the rifle round had shattered it completely. There was only a fragment of the black casing stuck to his dash.

Butch fired several more times, but as he gained distance from the bridge, he recognized it was increasingly unlikely anyone was going to hit their targets. However, Ezra didn’t slow down, even when they turned a corner in the river, hiding the bridge from them.

“Are we safe?” Haley asked, sticking her head up.

“I don’t think so,” he replied, not sure if he should talk to her the same way he did with Butch. If Butch had asked, he would have told him there was another bridge a few miles ahead. Butch would recognize they couldn’t slow down, not for a second, since it was imperative they beat the trucks to the next crossing.

Ezra glanced down to the girl, hugging her two furry friends. He held out a hand to help her off the all-weather carpet. “Come on up. You can sit back in your seat.”

He watched as Butch and Haley returned to their original spots. It gave him the few seconds necessary to decide which way to go with her.

“Haley, I’m glad you came aboard with us, but this trip is going to take all of us working together to make it out the other side. It looks like the goons from St. Charles aren’t going to let it go. I bet one of those men was the same guy who’s been chasing us since Bass Pro.”

“We got away, didn’t we?” she asked.

“I’m afraid not.” He decided to tell her the truth. “We have four more bridges to go under before we make it to Kansas City. They might be waiting for us at each of them, but I think we can beat them to the next one. We’re going to try, anyway.”

“And the ones past it?” she pressed.

He thought about it for a few seconds, legitimately unsure what to say. If they didn’t slow down, they’d burn through their fuel long before they made it to the second and third bridges. If they did slow down, the TKM trucks would easily beat them to the next bridge and they’d be shot at the instant they came over the horizon.

“Let’s take it one bridge at a time.”

CHAPTER 4

Sidney, NE

By the time Grace and Asher got their weapons prepared, Robert had driven a truck out from the train shed. He honked and stopped to pick them up. “Come on, we’re going to put out the fire.”

The pickup truck carried a tank of liquid with an industrial hose attached to it. It made sense a professional repair shop would have an equally professional fire suppression system. She hopped in after Asher, though they had to share the passenger seat.

Robert drove them on the gravel entry road, passing her truck, which now had a few new holes, and beyond the long line of coal cars. She finally saw some of the waiting diesel engines on the outside track; engineers sat inside or crouched behind their drive wheels. After having a front-row seat for the helicopter raining hellfire onto the train shed, she didn’t blame them for laying low.

By the time they arrived at the burning truck, the giant fire had died down to a smaller but white-hot inferno consuming the entire vehicle.

“You guys check for survivors while I unspool the hose and get started.”

“Got it,” she and Asher replied together.

He parked about fifty feet from the blaze. Probably a smart way to keep from having his own vehicle catch fire. However, it meant she and Asher needed to jog in a wide semicircle around the fiery wreck to see if the man with the gun was hiding nearby, or dead inside the blast zone. Bullets had created fist-sized divots in the gravel and in the dirt next to the road, making her wonder if fire or machine gun was the quicker way to go.

The roadway sat a few feet above the fields, requiring them to look down both embankments to see if anyone was hiding. It didn’t take long to determine no one was there.

“What the hell?” she said, after meeting Asher back on the road. “Where’d he go?”

Glancing around, they were a quarter mile from the rail yard. She saw for miles in every other direction, over the prairie grasses and farm fields. There were no bushes, trees, or clumps of weeds where a person could hide. Even if there was, they would have seen a man running from the explosion. So would the helicopter.

“Do you think…” She almost hated to voice the horrible thought. “Do you think that machine gun turned the man into a fine mist?”

Asher turned up his lip. “God, I hope not.”

“Well, he isn’t in the truck. There’s nothing left there. He isn’t a pile of goo. And he didn’t run away.” She waved to the windswept fields around them. “So where’d he go?”

They looked at each other, then she turned to go back down the slope next to the road. Asher did the same on his side.

She went a few yards closer to the truck, but ran into the divots of the machine gun. It didn’t seem likely the man would have made it through them. If he was avoiding them, he would have gone the other way, so she walked for several yards alongside the road, going away from the rail shed. She paid careful attention to each tuft of tall prairie grass or weedy patch, but none of them were tall enough to hide a person. However, where the weeds and greenery was thickest, she noticed a small drain pipe coming out from under the roadway.

“Ash! I’ve found something!” She trotted over to the pipe, waving to Asher as he came across the white gravel road.

By the time he made it to her, she was crouched next to the pipe. It didn’t seem large enough to fit a person, but she checked anyway. “Oh. My. God. Look!”

She pointed to the bottoms of a pair of boots, toes down, barely inside the hole. They wiggled from side to side, indicating the owner was alive.

“Hey, mister! We’re here to help you!” She motioned for Asher to grab a shoe. She also waved over to Robert, who was spraying a white mist on the fire. He waved back, acknowledging her efforts.

The man had somehow shimmied himself into the hole, but he might have stayed in there forever if she hadn’t noticed him. He seemed unable to move backward. He spoke, too, but it was so muffled and quiet it was impossible to hear what he’d said.

“Pull!” Asher blurted.

The man’s legs slid out. His voice became louder. He was thanking them over and over.

When they pulled half his body from the drain, she recognized the navy-blue material of his TKM shirt. They hesitated for a moment, but the man was able to get his arms free, allowing him to pull himself from his predicament.

She and Asher fell back, reaching for their rifles.

When the man came out, she could confirm he was with TKM, but it wasn’t only due to the shirt.

“Misha?” she snorted, pointing her gun at his face.

He sat in the grass, hands up. “Hello, my friends. I wonder if I—”

“You aren’t my friend! You want to kill us!” Grace sensed her cheeks burn red with anger. His people had shot up Asher’s sister. Shawn Runs Hard. The whole city of Denver. She’d seen all the death up close.

“Is true,” he said in his Russian accent. “But I could call your attention to my saving your life. I used big-ass rifle, no?” He pointed back toward the truck.

It took a few seconds for the words to register. “You saved us from the nutjob in the helicopter?”

“A woman, yes?” he responded.

“She was a woman. Black hair. Likes to shoot machine guns.” Grace hated engaging with him, but there was no denying what he’d done.

“Nerio Torres. Her husband was pilot. They have been sent out here to finish the job I would not do. Kill you two.” He pointed at her and Asher, though it was no surprise.

She reoriented the rifle on him. “And why the hell are you here?”

He lowered his hands, as if unafraid of being shot. “Put guns away. I will explain. I am here to save your lives.”

Boonville, MO

Even going full throttle didn’t seem fast enough to Ezra. He glanced at the map, estimating they had about ten miles between the two bridges. If the men got in their trucks and intended to meet them, they’d be able to go three or four times as fast as his group traveled on the water. His only hope of beating them was they were going almost fifty miles an hour on a straight shot, while the men had to take a longer route with multiple roads.

Fifteen minutes later, the bridge appeared in the distance.

“Are you sure about this?” Butch asked, cradling his rifle.

Haley had asked about using her new rifle, but she’d never fired it. He thought using it would expose her to needless danger, with very little upside. Wherever the men appeared, they would have the concrete railing of the bridge decking to hide behind. They, on the other hand, would be exposed to the world as they splashed on the water. He wanted her to take cover and reduce her risk as much as possible.

“I think we beat them. I don’t see any trucks up there.” He hoped it was all worth it. Their fuel was down to a bit over a quarter of a tank. The last ten miles had burned through a full quarter tank by itself. They’d been forced to slow down and speed up twice when they had to get through short stretches of trash-filled water.

They now faced due west on the wide river, and the concrete span ahead was easily visible since they were on a straightaway. The shifting breeze created a little chop on the water’s surface. It wasn’t glassy as he preferred. Still, it wasn’t enough to slow him down, especially while going in a straight line. He kept the motor’s RPMs maxed out.

“Don’t see ’em yet!” Butch yelled. He’d taken up a position at the bow. He crouched behind what was left of a handrail designed to prevent passengers from falling over the sides and front. It would do nothing against bullets, but at least it hid him from view.

They were about a half mile away when a truck stopped on the bridge. It was easy to spot as there were no trusswork or supports above the roadway. From the side, the span appeared as a flat concrete slab with four pylons pointing into the water. The blue pickup truck drew his eyes to it; there were no other vehicles crossing.

“We’re going for it,” he declared, unwilling to give up the miles of gas they’d burned through.

“Give ’em hell!” Butch screamed into the wind.

As they closed the distance, two more trucks came from the left side and skidded to a stop. Men got out and shuffled around the edge of the bridge, but some of them disappeared almost immediately, as if they had other places to go.

“What are they doing?” he asked.

Haley was on the deck again, holding Liam beneath her. Victoria, the orange tabby cat, was in her cage under Butch’s seat.

Please, Susan, help us get through this mess.

With the wind and engine noise, he couldn’t hear the gunfire from the men on the bridge, but he figured out they were firing when three-foot spurts of water erupted in his vicinity. At first, the bullet impacts were fifty or even a hundred feet away, but they dialed in on him as he approached. By the time he was a few hundred yards away, the shots were almost on top of them.

Butch returned fire as the first bullet plinked against the aluminum of one of the pontoons. He fired several shots toward the middle guy, hitting the concrete rail and causing him to duck down. The other two shooters kept firing, though one had to duck down for an unknown purpose.

A few seconds later, as the shots were hitting the boat all too frequently, the second guy had to drop down.

“They’re reloading!” Butch yelled.

The middle shooter popped up and leaned over to shoot almost straight down at them. Butch had already been zeroed in on his location. When the man presented a target, Butch put one into his head, causing the man to slump over and drop his rifle.

“Nice!” Ezra cheered. He figured they’d make it to the safety under the bridge, but the rifle picked up speed on its fall, and Ezra reacted a fraction of a second too late. The flying object slammed into his replacement canopy, ripping the tarp as it struck the back railing, then bounced into the water. “Holy hell! It almost took my head off!”

Butch looked at him. “You good?”

“Not really!” he replied. Ezra ran his fingers through his hair, marveling at how close he’d come to a freak ending. However, when the boat crossed to the far side of the bridge, the missing men appeared above them.

This time, the men were ready.

Another hail of bullets came down on the boat.

Denver, CO

Aarons came back armed to the teeth. He stood outside Petteri’s office with two other men. As expected, he’d taken the reprimand seriously. Since he didn’t know Nerio’s game, he’d instructed Aarons to let him know the instant the Venezuelan woman reentered the building.

The sound of gunfire alerted him to trouble out on the streets.

“Aarons, would you come here for a second?”

The man came through the door. Petteri didn’t know him personally, but Howard had mentioned him several times over the years, and they’d been in the same room on occasion. The guy was in his forties. He’d done a few tours in sandy wastelands throughout the Middle East. Special forces trained. Aside from the beard, which Petteri couldn’t stop hating, he looked the part of a mercenary. The man’s tall height and stout build reminded him of a high-school linebacker who’d gone off to war and come back a veteran.

“Sir?”

“Why is there shooting still going on? It sounds close.”

Aarons’s eyes darted to the exterior window, then back to him. “We’ve managed to secure a single street leading out of the dig site. Most of our men are guarding it, and we’re getting dump trucks in and out, but it has weakened our lines in other parts of the perimeter.”

“And the other mining companies keep coming at us? Haven’t they gotten the point?” He only had to look out the window to see the bodies of dozens of non-TKM employees who got the message delivered via high-velocity slugs.

Craig Aarons stiffened. “We’re losing men…and women. For each one of us who goes down, there are two of the bad guys who stand up. We’re holding our own, mostly because of the big payoff the men have been promised, but…”

Petteri didn’t like where the conversation was going. “I see. And what can you tell me about the breakout last night? How did Mr. Gagarin get out of his confinement?”

Aarons didn’t know. He saw it in the operative’s eyes.

Petteri continued. “He had help, didn’t he?” It wouldn’t have been his new security chief. The man was new to Petteri, but not new to the TKM organization. He’d seen Howard take care of disloyal employees. In the old days, before the rock fall, “taking care” of personnel meant escorting them from TKM property. More recently, taking care of problems had gotten a lot bloodier. The paychecks had also gotten several zeros fatter. There was no way he’d take the risk of crossing Petteri on day one of his promotion.

“It looks like it, sir. The door was unlocked from the outside. Maybe he got the jump on a guard, and the guard is afraid to come forward…”

They were Aarons’s guards. Petteri was tempted to chew him out for not knowing the answer to such a basic question. However, if it was someone from the inside, there might be a more logical explanation.

Petteri had a pistol pointed at Misha the previous night. Nerio licked her lips as if about to watch a prize fighter take down a hated challenger. However, before he could pull the trigger, she’d put out her hand and asked him to spare the hitman. Petteri could have shot anyway, being the boss of the woman, but Nerio’s big green eyes were very persuasive, and he fell prey to her charms. In the end, he’d decided it didn’t matter to him if the guy was alive or dead, as long as Misha was out of play.

Or so he thought.

“No, I think it’s a lot more complicated. Keep doing what you’re doing. Please shut the door on your way out. I’ve got to make a phone call.”

Nerio had released Misha. He was sure of it. Earlier, he’d made the claim the hard-driven woman enjoyed playing with her food. However, what he couldn’t figure out was whether he or Misha was the target of her whims.

“Dammit, Nerio, I brought you in to clean things up, not make more of a mess.”

CHAPTER 5

Sidney, NE

“We saved Misha?” Grace could barely utter his name. She was shocked at the sight of the man who’d been dragged out of the drainage pipe. He picked around the edges of his ruined truck, as if everything was normal. The side of his face and neck were still burnt from where she’d torched him with the bear mace, and the rest of his skin looked sooty and red, as if the explosion had taken a toll. Injuries or not, they’d taken his pistol and a knife.

“He saved us,” Asher replied dryly, swishing the words in his mouth as if they tasted bad.

Misha paid no heed to their dilemma. “She did number on my truck. Ammo for big-ass gun is gone. Lucky I threw spare magazine in grass, as with rifle.” He pointed to some thick, reedy grass, not far beyond the drainpipe, then hurried over there. A six-foot-long rifle sat where he indicated, but it was unlike anything she’d ever seen. It was oversized to the point of being cartoonish, and it had two legs for a bipod, each of which sat on what appeared to be foot-long sleds.

“What the hell is that?” she asked.

“Lahti 20-millimeter anti-tank rifle. It weighs one hundred pounds and, according to book, requires two people to operate. Lucky for you, Misha can do it alone.”

“Where did you get such a weapon?” Asher prodded.

Misha picked up the loose magazine box. “Very rare. This model is from World War II, but TKM has endless resources. I simply took it from one of their supply trucks. I knew Nerio was coming here, in TKM-surplus helicopter, and knew this was only weapon guaranteed to stop her.”

Grace whistled, impressed at what he’d done.

“If I were back at a full-service TKM depot, I could have gotten a true anti-aircraft weapon; a Russian-built, shoulder-fired Willow would have been een-credible.”

She had no idea what he was talking about.

Misha stowed the mag in his belt. “I know what thoughts go through your heads. Why is Misha helping? Why is he shooting big-ass gun at helicopters?” He ran fingers through his buzz cut, then turned to face Grace. “When we spoke at the roadblock in Billings, you wished me luck in finding my family, even if it meant it would put you in danger. Since then, I have been trying to call back to Bryansk to confirm my wife and mother are okay. We all share apartment, you see. Two days ago, I find out from friend there had been a fire in complex. Wife and mother are dead.”

She sighed heavily, unsure if she should sympathize with the man, but certain it was okay to feel compassion for the dead women.

Misha studied her. “You are only one who cared about my family. Petteri Tikkanen gave order. He had them killed.”

“Did he say he did?” Asher replied, clearly drawn into the man’s story.

The hitman shook his head. “Not in many words, as you say. He threatened, then withdrew his threat. But I know it was not a random fire. I provided very well for my family. They lived in nice, new apartment. It was him. In fact, he called me to Denver, by myself, yesterday. I almost did not go, but I let myself believe he was not the one responsible. When I got there, he nearly killed me for showing up.”

“Why didn’t he?” she asked.

“No way to know. He put me in custody of strange woman. Another of his hitmen. I assumed he subcontracted the dirty deed to her. That is the Petteri way. But she did not kill. After bragging she was going to finish my job for me, she left to go to her targets.” He pointed between her and Asher. “You two.”

When they didn’t respond, he added. “I am Russian. I know many tricks. I escaped from simple cell to follow her.”

“Lucky for us,” Asher commented, sounding equally grateful and wary.

The fire at the truck was almost completely subdued. Robert and his white foam had made short work of it. Misha looked over her shoulder to his truck. “I had many weapons stolen, ready to help you, but they were in bed of truck. Now, I only have this…” He pointed to the rifle on sleds. “With a few rounds. And the pistol you took from me.”

Asher pulled at her elbow. “Can I talk to you for a minute?”

She let him guide her onto the roadway, out of earshot of the Russian agent.

He made sure they were far enough before talking quietly. “What are we going to do with him? I don’t trust any of this. TKM is sneaky. They sent actual hitmen to kill me in your park. That’s not normal, Grace.”

Normal was a word long buried under the rubble and ash of the fallen asteroid. Misha the assassin was the last person on earth she expected to pull from the drainage tube, but…

Grace shifted her weight to one hip, giving her a better view of her captive. Misha stood with his arms folded across his chest, but he also had a foot on the Finnish rifle, standing proud, as if he’d shot a lion on safari with it.

“Maybe he’s the guy we need to survive. Whatever his game, there’s no way he could have faked shooting at the helicopter and getting shot at in return. If he’d meant to see us dead, he could have let the woman—Nerio, I think he called her—kill us with her machine gun.”

“I wouldn’t put it past him,” Asher said dryly, though not with much conviction.

She reached for his hand and held it for a second. “I don’t trust him, but he’s here. If the woman comes back, I’d rather we have someone who can help defend the train. You’ve seen Shawn. He’s not going to be much use. Logan has heart, but he’s got to keep an eye on his dad. Even you are going to be distracted by Diedre.”

“Where do you think Robert will take us?”

She gave him a funny look. “You don’t think he’ll take us east? I just assumed…” She’d been so focused on her own problems, she’d forgotten Robert had brought along a boxcar full of family and coworkers who’d escaped from Denver. They had as much right, if not more, to decide where they went. Their objectives aligned with the engineer’s while they fled north to get out of Denver, but now?

She sighed as if the whole train was on her back.

Asher reached out and held her hand. “We’ll get through this. All we have to do is explain to Robert why we need to get where you want. If he says no, we still have your truck. It isn’t a big deal.”

Her mood came out of the clouds. “Wouldn’t it be funny if we got stuck transporting Misha in the Chevy he shot up? I’d make him sit in the cargo bed. Behind the partition.” Shawn’s brother had made the nice wooden bulkhead to keep out the wind created by all her broken rear windows. By putting the Russian behind it, he’d effectively be out of sight.

They both glanced toward the rail cars and the shed. From where they stood, the NPS truck was prominent on the flatcar. Diedre, Shawn, and Logan stood close to it, watching her and Asher gawk at the wrecked truck. Asher waved; Diedre waved back.

“We’ve got to get out of here,” she suggested. “Get the train moving. We’ll try to convince Robert to head east…”

Misha’s feet crunched on the gravel, announcing his approach. “You will not care to go east. We have to go to the rock at Yellowstone. I have friends there.” He carried the big rifle with two arms, but he couldn’t fire it without setting it on the ground. It was simply too long.

“Yellowstone?” she groaned. “Why in the hell would we go back? We’ve spent the past week getting away from there.”

Misha chuckled. “I thought I just said you must go to Yellowstone if you want to live through this. Me and my friends are the only ones who can help you.”

Boonsville, MO

“Stay down!” he yelled to Haley.

The men on the deck of the bridge had divided into two groups. Three had lined up along the front to shoot as they approached. The other three crossed the lanes of traffic and waited for them to emerge from underneath. The cracks of three rifles were answered by pings of metal and splitting of wood. They’d hit the boat.

Ezra’s heart seemed to stop inside his chest, and he feared he’d be frozen with panic, unable to move. To counter the grip of doom, he spun the wheel, changing his course violently to the left. It bled off lots of the speed, as he’d anticipated, but it also made them a more difficult target to hit. Splashes erupted off to his side, where the boat was originally headed. He kept going toward the left shore once he was aimed in that direction.

Butch readjusted as fast as possible. More shots came in, some hitting the boat, some splashing into the water, while he aimed upward and in reverse. When he squeezed off his first shot, his rifle was held awkwardly in front of him as he lay on the deck. There was nothing to balance it on.

Haley seemed to curl up into a smaller ball, hugging Liam against her chest.

The engine struggled to build up speed again, but once he heard the familiar roar of maximum RPMs, he cut the wheel to the right, trying to zig and zag. Each second took them farther from the shooters. Each change in direction caused Butch to lose his balance while firing from his back.

Two more shots hit the boat, splitting a seat cushion and puncturing the wooden deck. The back of his head felt huge and exposed. At any second, he could get split open by rifle rounds fired by the bastards in blue shirts. However, he kept his eyes forward, his mind focused, and put all his energy into planning escape maneuvers on the open water.

“Holy crap!” Butch shouted. “I almost hit one of them!”

“Keep it up!” he called back.

Another volley of shots zipped toward the boat. Most of those went into the water, some twenty or thirty feet away.

“We’re getting there,” he said to himself before making another course correction. When he checked over his shoulder, the entire span of the bridge was in his field of view. His swerving propeller wash painted an uneven brown trail back under the deck. Looking up, the two men from the front side arrived to join their mates.

Butch saw the same thing. Instead of carefully aiming his rifle, he put out as many rounds as possible in an effort to get the five men to stay low. His intense attack continued for ten or fifteen seconds until he got through his entire mag. “I’m out!”

They had thousands of rounds of ammo, but there was no time to reload. He reached for his rifle and chucked it toward Butch.

“Thanks!” the big man said, catching it.

A bullet struck the wooden deck in between Butch’s legs.

Ezra jerked left before another one found its target.

Butch rolled sideways with the change in momentum.

They went another few seconds before he yanked the wheel to the right. Soon after, he didn’t hear or see any bullet impacts.

His friend finally got his bearings, lined up the borrowed rifle, but didn’t fire. He studied them through the little 4X scope for a short time. “They’re going back to their trucks,” Butch said over the engine’s roar.

Ezra kept the throttle wide open for another few minutes before finally letting off. The bridge wasn’t quite out of view, but it was miles behind them, well beyond rifle range. The first thing he checked was the fuel gauge. “I hate to be the one to say this, but we have to find a place to stop.”

“Gas?” Butch asked.

Haley let herself unwind, careful to release Liam. The puggle didn’t have any appreciation for the larger situation. He came out of his cocoon and immediately pawed at her blowing blonde hair like it was a chew toy. “Down, boy!”

Ezra was pleased to see her happy. It meant no one had been shot.

“Haley, can you pass the map over to me? Butch, I need you to look around to see if we’ve been hit in the pontoons. I can’t stop us yet, but I will if we’ve sprung a leak. We can tape it up now and add epoxy later.”

“Are we sinking?” Haley asked, repeating almost the exact words Butch had once said to him.

Butch replied instantly. “Naw. The pontoons are like compartments. You can pierce one, but the others compensate for it. We’re fine.” He leaned over the side rails, checking the aluminum floats, but it didn’t get past Ezra how he held on to the rails and seats with crushing strength. For a guy who was terrified of the water, he put on a tremendous show of not being afraid. Haley was having an effect on him.

Ezra breathed out, remembering he’d been terrified a few minutes ago, too. Being shot at wasn’t a new thing for him, he was sad to admit, but it was never going to become commonplace. Any of those bullets could end his quest to reach Grace. If the shooters had a bit more skill, or his engine were a bit smaller, or if any number of random factors came out a slight bit differently, he wouldn’t be around to appreciate surviving another attack.

Haley gave him the paper map of Missouri. It was already open to their segment of river, but he had to spread it wider to see what was ahead. They were a little farther than halfway across the state, with three remote bridges between them and the more populated sprawl of Kansas City. Plenty of chances for the TKM goons to catch up to them. Plenty of time to get revenge for killing one of their men.

“Here. Arrow Rock. It looks big enough to have a filling station. We’ll have to get out and walk into town, but it’s only ten miles upriver. The trucks will have to take the long way around. There’s no direct road because of the way the river bends to the north. We should have time.”

“Should?” Haley asked, catching the word and the way he’d said it.

“We have no choice. We either risk getting gas, or we give up the boat.” He wasn’t ready to part ways with Susan’s Grace. It was his last meaningful link back to his wife.

“E-Z can do it,” Butch said to Haley. “I need to show you how to operate one of these, however.” He held up the black Bushmaster AR-15.

“Show me,” she replied.

CHAPTER 6

Sidney, NE

“What does Yellowstone have to do with keeping us alive?” Grace asked Misha.

They chose to walk back to the train shed, giving her and Asher a chance to talk to the man who’d saved their lives. They did not, however, give him a weapon. His Lahti was in the truck, and they’d kept his pistol. She and Asher walked ten paces behind the weary-looking man.

“The dig site is not in Yellowstone, but is close. It is the rock that almost killed us when you left me to die on gravel roadway.” He held up his hand. “I do not blame you. Very clever of you to use bear spray with fire, by the way. I only point out fact.”

“Fine. We’ve established an asteroid came down to the south of the park. But why us? Why there?”

“I told you. I have friends who will come to our side when I explain what their boss did to my family. The more friends you have, easier it is to fight back. Petteri was very upset you killed his beloved assistant, Howard. I think he will send many more assassins after you if Nerio fails. You must be ready. You must have base of defense, not this…” He glanced at the train. “This broken-down machine.”

“For the record, we didn’t kill Howard. Some woman did it. Her name was Dorothy, I think. She arrived with Petteri, but didn’t seem to like the other man. When the shooting started, Howard wrestled me to the ground; I thought I was dead. When Dorothy shot him, I was happy about it.”

Misha studied her over his shoulder while walking toward the first coal car in the line. “He was betrayed by one of his own? You must tell me whole story sometime. I would also like to meet this woman, if she is not already dead. Petteri has eyes everywhere. Even out here.”

Grace didn’t let herself get absorbed in his conspiracies. “All I need to know is whether you’re going to betray us. I know you saved us and all, but it isn’t easy to forget our earlier meetings.”

“I know,” the Russian replied, before dropping into silence for several minutes.

The train engines on the farthest track remained where they were. The engineers now stood next to their machines, but seemed uninterested in getting any closer to her and the action. She waved to them, getting a smattering of waves back.

A few minutes later, after walking along the strings of coal hoppers, they reached the flatbed. The others were shocked to learn Misha’s identity and background, but they seemed satisfied by her acceptance of him. Instead of prodding for explanations about his past with TKM, they asked about his plan for taking them to the Yellowstone dig site.

Shawn rose to the call right away. “It isn’t enough to lay claim to the rock which fell on Crow lands. We need to tell the owners of the properties beneath all the asteroid pieces. It belongs to them.” He smiled mischievously.

Grace knew why. “You want to stick it to Petteri, don’t you?”

He gestured to his injured leg. “His company tried to steal what belongs to our nation. Then he tried to snuff out me and my boy. The only break I’ll give that guy is when I snap his spine in two. Stick it to him? You better believe it.”

In a weird way, it mirrored what Misha had said. Going there would help stick it to Mr. Tikkanen and it would help her and Asher find protection with Misha and his friends. On the flip side, the place would be crawling with TKM security. What if Misha failed to sway those people? Then they’d all be walking into a trap.

Misha brightened. “If it helps, I know who owns land.”

“Really?” Asher said dryly. “That’s incredible. And damned convenient.”

The Russian man smiled, revealing his one missing tooth. “You misunderstand my English. I do not know the exact name, but I have seen the files. TKM absolutely knows who owns land at fallen fragments. They need the information so they can pay for rights to collect the ore and take it back to their properties.”

Shawn harrumphed in the affirmative. TKM had indeed tried to buy him off.

Grace had to take a stab at staying on her mission. “My dad is to the east, though…” She hated sounding like an injured bird, but all of her plans had been centered around reaching Dad and his boat. If she turned around and headed back west, it would make his journey even longer. Still, if he knew all the facts, her father might counsel her to stick with a strong group rather than venturing out alone, or with Asher by himself. And, she reasoned, she already knew the area around Yellowstone Park.

Misha seemed to take the lead on talking reason, which confused her. He focused on Grace again. “You said kind words about my family. Let me prove to your father I can make right after what I did. I protect you with my team. I keep you safe from Nerio and her husband. I keep you all protected from chaos happening in many cities and states of your America. But I cannot do it alone. I have to take you to dig site up north.”

Robert the engineer walked up mid-conversation. He handed Grace a backpack that had been slightly burned in several places. “This was blown clear of the wreckage.”

“Is mine,” Misha declared.

Robert acknowledged him but kept talking. “You want to go up north?”

They all looked to him. Misha appeared as if he was about to reply, but he deferred to Grace. She then spoke to Robert. “I wanted to go east, but now we’re talking about traveling to the west and north. Toward Yellowstone. It’s where this man has friends; men with lots of guns. Guys who can fight off that helicopter if it comes back.”

The man wiped his hands down the sides of his greasy overalls as if it was a nervous habit. “You’ll be happy to know most of my people in the boxcar have gotten rides with the workers here at the rail shed. Their homes are back in Denver. As for me and my crew…”

She braced for disappointment.

Robert cracked a smile. “Would it surprise you to learn this engine has been contracted by TKM to haul a load of these repaired coal hoppers to Kansas City?”

Her heart fluttered, then sank. He was supposed to go east, toward her father. It was the way she desperately wanted to go, but it was suddenly not the way she needed to go.

The engineer continued. “But I don’t think we’d make it if the helicopter came back. Not alone.” He gave Misha a serious look. “Can you get your friends to come here? We could all ride the train to the east. I have an entire boxcar ready for passengers. I’d love to have the protection.”

Misha immediately shook his head. “They are willing to help me, but there are, um, certain financial incentives to stay where they are.”

Grace chuckled. “They’re in it for the money.”

Diedre raised her good hand before speaking. “I vote we go to wherever we can find the biggest number of friendly soldiers. I’ve been inside Petteri’s hive for the past week. I’ve been on his island. In his flight center. In his Denver office. His company is consumed with digging up all the ore they dropped to Earth. They have a huge army of men willing to help. I can say from all my dealings with the man if he means to get something, he will. If he means to hurt someone, he most definitely will.”

“Is what I said,” Misha interrupted.

Asher’s sister continued. “If this guy can protect us, let him try. I’d like to steal some of Petteri’s money, too.”

Laughter all around.

Grace still wasn’t happy about the change in plans but saw the general merits. She rifled through Misha’s pack to ensure there were no weapons inside. It held a few grain bars, a couple of handheld radios, and other junk probably meant for camping.

Shawn grunted as he shifted weight off his bad leg. “I can call my people and see what we can do to help. The more, the merrier, right?”

“Yes,” Misha agreed. “Get whatever help you need. I like the way you think. Be warned, Nerio will be back again. She has no end to weapons provided by TKM. Even if you do not let me come along, please take the Lahti.” The big gun had been placed on Robert’s truck, which was parked over by the train shed. The workers stood around it admiring the giant weapon.

Robert seemed pumped. “I’ll get the engine ready. It took some bullets, but she’s built to withstand anything. It won’t take me long.”

Misha followed up the statement. “If you can, tell TKM you are heading east. It will throw Nerio off scent for a time.” He hesitated, slowly turning to Grace. “That is, if you are going with us?”

She and Asher exchanged a look before she made her decision. Grace tossed the backpack over to Misha. “Fine. It’s obviously as bad as you say. If we have to go to Yellowstone to make a stand, I’m all for it. I just have to change my voicemail message.”

Misha looked at her as if she’d gone nuts, but she was happy to let him think it. She couldn’t trust him, and she wanted him to be unsure about her motives, too. As such, she pulled out her phone and walked away, careful not to let him overhear her important discussion.

Someone had left a message. She checked the network and found it wasn’t connected at that moment, but the voice message had downloaded to her phone, suggesting it had temporarily linked up at some point recently, as Asher had predicted.

Unsurprisingly, it was Dad. “Hi, Grace. Me and Butch are on the river, moving closer to you…” He went on to assure her he’d gotten her message about not going to Denver, and he added one of his claps, which warmed her heart.

She pressed the button to re-record her greeting for him. “Hi, Dad. I’m changing my voicemail message again. My last one said I was heading east. You won’t believe it, but lots has changed for me. Now I’m heading back toward Yellowstone. I’m going to the dig site south of the park. I’ll change my message again when I know exactly where it is. I love you. Please leave your message, and one of these.” She clapped as close to the mic as she could get.

She hung up smiling. Simply thinking about her father did wonders for her morale. And if they were going back toward danger, she needed all the positive vibes she could summon.

Arrow Rock, MO

“Well, this doesn’t look good.” Ezra and Butch came up the steep bank of the Missouri River and found themselves at the edge of what looked like a tasteful country subdivision, rather than a town. The roads weren’t much larger than a single lane, and the small brick houses were dominated by huge oak trees and sprawling grass yards. A two-lane highway was partially hidden by trees about a half mile away, but there didn’t seem to be anything except houses between him and the other end of Arrow Rock.

Haley came up a few moments later, Liam yanking on his leash ahead of her. She also insisted on bringing Victoria in her crate, though she didn’t let it slow her down.

Butch hung back, not helping her, but appearing ready if she asked. When she walked by, the young man took note of the cat carrier. “Would your kitty survive in a backpack? Would be a lot easier to carry around.”

She seemed to consider. “At this point, I don’t think she’d survive in anything. All the noise and shooting has her terrified.” Haley brought the cage up, so she and Butch could look inside. “See? She’s even afraid of me right now.”

The big guy chuckled. “Maybe it’s me?”

“Naw,” she said, lowering the crate again. “My sweet baby has been like this since I took her from Xander’s place. It isn’t healthy for her to have so much stress.”

Ezra crouched to pet the puggle, who’d taken a seat after the long walk up the hillside from the river. “It’s not healthy for any of us, but we came up here for an important reason.” He glanced down the narrow asphalt lane. “Maybe there’s a gas station at the other end of the street. We should find out.”

“Why don’t we ask someone?” Haley said, walking out onto the shady lane.

“Sounds good,” he replied, motioning Butch to go first.

They walked for a short time before seeing several people out in their yards. He and Butch waved to a man sitting on his back porch, though Haley kept going forward. He was about to ask if she’d missed him, but soon figured out her intentions.

The young woman power-walked toward the fenced yard of a house a little farther up the street. A woman threw a bright yellow tennis ball for her black Labrador retriever. As soon as Liam caught sight of a friend, he barked with anticipation. The other dog stopped in place, dropped the ball, then barked in return.

“Now I get it,” he said jokingly to Butch.

Haley heeled Liam about twenty feet from the low chain-link fence before speaking to the other woman. “Hello! We’re on a boat down on the river. We need a gas station so we can fill up.”

Ezra held up the red five-gallon container.

The woman was probably in her fifties, with straight blonde hair with several streaks of gray. She was dressed in sweatpants and a long-sleeved shirt, as if she hadn’t been expecting visitors. “We don’t get many people come up from the river here in Arrow Rock. Tourists usually come here in cars. ’Course, we haven’t got many visitors since the TV went off last week.”

Haley struggled to control her dog. “But does the town have gas?”

The Arrow Rock resident came over to the fence, moving at country speed. Ezra was well familiar with that mode of travel. It was for those times when you wanted to pull up a stump and chat with a neighbor. It didn’t matter how long it took, or what you talked about. It was simply a way to pass the day. “I’m sorry, we don’t. If you’re on the water, you might go up to Glasgow and hit Stallman’s. You could also go downriver to Boonville. Lots of stations there.”

Ezra spoke up. “I’m afraid we can’t go up or down. We’re running on fumes. We need at least five gallons to get us to Glasgow. More if we can find it.”

“I’m not sure…” she started to say.

“We’re being chased by assholes with guns,” Haley said dramatically. “We expect they’ll come through here looking for us in the next thirty minutes or so. That’s why we’re in such a hurry.”

“Oh, you poor dear. Why didn’t you say? How could I refuse helping such needy people? And your puggle is just so darned cute.” She waved them to the gate, which was near the back of her small but tidy brick home. “Can your dog meet my boy? He’d love some company while I help you out.”

Haley exuded excitement, which seemed to make Liam bounce on his tiny legs. “Oh yes, he needs some puppy time. Thank you so much!”

Once inside the gate, Haley unclipped his leash and he took off after the black lab, which had also gone crazy with excitement. Some dogs became aggressive when interacting with others—he’d seen it back at the lake—but Liam didn’t seem to have a mean bone in him. The lab had a similar temperament.

While the dogs circled each other in the yard, the woman pointed to the crate. “Whatchya got in there?”

“My tabby cat. She’s petrified right now. So much shooting…” Haley’s words faded.

The woman looked inside for a moment, then popped up with a concerned look. “I’ve got a pair of calicos inside. Probably sleeping, of course. I know what you’re going through, being on the road.”

“Thanks,” Haley replied. “I love your hair, by the by. The white streaks make you look like royalty.”

The woman’s smile lit up the yard. “Aren’t you the nicest young thing? I really appreciate the pick-me-up. It’s been a long time since I’ve bothered to fix myself up, with the lockdown and all.”

“Lockdown?” Ezra interjected.

“Sure. Governor has everyone confined to their homes until the situation in Kansas City clears up. They’re saying the whole city is ash after being struck by an unidentified object from above. Of course, they aren’t telling us what it was. News has been no help, either.”

“You don’t know? It was a chunk of asteroid. Pieces of it came down around the country. One of them blew up our town” —he motioned to Butch—“of Paducah.”

“Seriously? It was one of the rumors we heard, but we couldn’t be sure. The Missouri governor didn’t say much, neither.” She said the state’s name as if it ended with an ah, rather than an ee. “In the absence of news, my neighbors and I have been trying to figure it all out on the internet, but even that’s been cut off out here. We’re the last to know everything.”

The homeowner waved them to follow her to a tiny shed directly behind her place. “I’m Josephine, by the way.”

They all rattled off their names.

“Nice to meet y’all,” she continued. “My husband is driving a truck OTR, so I do most of the chores ’round here. He’s why I know about this.” She opened the sliding door of the tin structure, revealing a riding mower and several familiar red containers.

“Whoa!” Ezra blurted. It was a gold mine, but he couldn’t ignore what she’d said. “Hey, where is your husband right now?”

She shrugged. “He don’t tell me. Sometimes he calls from Maine. Other times, he’s in Oregon. That man has seen more of the country than I ever will. We’ve talked about riding together once in a while, but we never got around to it. I guess I do enjoy time to myself…”

He didn’t want to ruin it for her. Truckers were probably sitting on the highways, like those he’d seen around the ruins of Paducah, waiting for cities to be opened and traffic to clear. If she hadn’t heard from the guy in a week, he also had to wonder if he’d survived at all. None of those were ideas he wanted to share with her.

The woman went on. “Why don’t you leave yours? Take one of mine. We’ll call it even.”

“No, we shouldn’t,” Ezra said in a wistful voice. He wanted to say yes. Her cans were the old style, without all the useless emissions garbage attached to the spout. They were a lot easier to use when in a hurry.

“Pshaw!” Josephine replied. “You think I’ll need all this gasoline for any other purpose? My lawn isn’t even very big. It’ll last me all summer. You’re doing me a favor by taking some of it.”

Haley cheerfully pulled out her phone. “Give me your number. When we get back to civilization, I want to send you a little token, okay?”

Josephine stepped closer to her, speaking quietly. “Haley, you do have a little token I might take as a temporary payment.”

Haley looked confused. “What? I’ll do whatever I can.”

The woman brushed back her hair, then pointed to the cat crate. “Let me help you take care of your little precious. Leave her here with me. When you come back through, she’ll be waiting for you.”

The pretty girl’s face folded up in horror. “I can’t!”

Denver, CO

Petteri was hip-deep in status reports and updates from Mr. Aarons and his counterparts at all the other dig sites. Each phone call brought him a mixture of good and bad news about how his workers had gained control and continued extraction of his precious ores, but the bad news seemed to edge out the good.

The situation in Denver had been going downhill for days. After the brief interlude of peace imposed by the barrels of TKM guns, the city was breaking down into anarchy. More men were required to travel with each dump truck both in and out of the city. He’d paid off thousands of men to work for him, but there were hundreds of thousands of residents and competing miners trying to stop him.

Similar reports were rolling in from Kansas, Iowa, Arkansas, and Kentucky. He still kept full control of the more remote dig sites in Wyoming, Nebraska, and western Oklahoma, but pinprick attacks were common, even in those places. To speed things up at the sites near rail lines, he’d tried to up the flow of ore by commandeering every coal hopper in America. There was no genuine need to have them all, but it was all about control. As long as TKM had contracts on them, none of the other companies could use them. Rail companies were more than happy to take his money.

He was interrupted by a knock at his door.

“Who is it?” He wasn’t in the mood to talk to anyone.

“Dorothy.”

Even she didn’t rise to his level at the moment. “I’m sorry, I’ve got—”

“Stricker called me on my phone. He wants to talk to you.” She sounded disgusted. It wasn’t tough to understand her reasons. She’d piqued his interest. He became intrigued as to why the government employee had called her.

“Come in,” he said tiredly.

She strode in and dumped her phone on his desk. “I do not want to talk to that man ever again. I’ve already paid my dues with him. He doesn’t get to keep tormenting me.”

He smiled, certain she was being dramatic in a passive-aggressive manner. Sure, he’d asked her to meet privately with the portly fellow, but they’d been in the conference room. Nothing untoward could have happened.

Petteri picked up the phone. “Mr. Stricker? This is Petteri Tikkanen. How can I be of service?” Though he saw the other man as working for him, he maintained the veneer of civility to keep things smooth between them.

“Ah, very good. She put me through to you. I was very pleased to hear your assistant’s voice, as you know.” The man sounded winded, even on the phone.

“Happy to hear it. What do you want?”

“Oh, my friend, I’ve been following what’s happening around the country with each of your impact sites. The ore is flowing out. Trucks, and now trains, are flowing in. Well, I guess that isn’t true everywhere, is it?”

He clamped his jaw tight. What was the man’s game?

“Anyway, there is one teensy-weensy clause in our contract I’d like to execute. Something Dorothy fought me on tooth and nail, but which I was surprised you left in there after the ink was dry.”

Petteri’s head spun. His usual army of lawyers hadn’t been around to inspect every line of the contract. He’d read it himself, but in the interest of time, he may have cut a few pages off the word count. It was all boring standard text. “Go on.”

“Right. The United States government is entitled to one of the ten biggest pieces of 586001 Tuonela as compensation for the damage done to the nation. I’m sure you would agree the nation has suffered from the accident caused by your asteroid, and I’m sure you would agree for the sake of publicity we can square up the costs involved with this minor inconvenience for TKM.”

He glared at Dorothy. At first, he was angry she’d given him the phone, then he was upset with himself for letting her come in, and finally he was mad at Stricker for getting him over a barrel.

There was also the issue of devaluation. One of the reasons he’d wanted to collect all his ore on the sly was to time its release on the markets. If a hundred companies collected a hundred different rocks worth billions of dollars in gold, it would make gold prices plummet. If he could parse out gold and other rare earth minerals in smaller doses, it would preserve the price point, and his fortune.

If there was one thing the government would fail at doing, it was conservation. Stricker and his people would gobble the minerals and sell them as fast as possible, even if it meant they received pennies on the dollar.

“Mr. Stricker. Don’t you think this discussion would be better as part of further negotiations? Perhaps another visit to discuss how this might work to both our advantages? I’m sure my assistant Dorothy would—”

Dorothy turned and stormed out.

“—be able to help you.”

The man blew his nose on the phone. “As much as I would love to talk with her some more, I’m afraid the president himself has asked this of me. You and I have our, uh, arrangement, but there are some situations where I cannot meet you halfway. This is one of them.”

He had to press the guy to the max. It was uncouth to discuss the elements of blackmail with the participant, but a curt reminder was sometimes unavoidable. “Even if it means those untidy photographs were to get out?”

The line went silent for several seconds.

“Mr. Stricker?”

“Let me see what I can do.” He sounded deflated, which suited Petteri fine.

“That’s what I wanted to hear!”

He slammed the phone, sure he’d made his point.

CHAPTER 7

Sidney, NE

Grace wasn’t sure what to think about her recent choices. Misha’s sudden arrival was fortunate, but their group decision to travel west, rather than toward her dad, caused hours of uncertainty for her. They’d crossed into Wyoming before Misha joined her and Asher on the back end of the rolling flatcar. He sat down and hung his legs off the deck, as they were doing.

“Thank you for giving gun back.” Misha patted his pistol. After much discussion about it, she’d decided it made no sense to keep him weaponless. They’d already established he’d had ample opportunity to kill them. She had to take him at his word he was helping them. He couldn’t do it without a gun.

“We also have the rifles we stole from other TKM security goons. You’re welcome to use one. Giving you the guns was Asher’s idea and I supported him a hundred percent.” She talked up Asher so Misha would know they were in it together.

“Harasho, uh, okay,” the Russian man responded. “All very good.”

Grace watched the track roll out from under the flatbed car for a short time. “Misha, I’m sorry it didn’t work out for your family, but, honestly, I don’t know how to feel. If they were still alive, it would mean I was dead. That’s why Petteri killed them, right? Because you didn’t get to us in time.”

He clicked his teeth. “Da. I mean, yes. I understand your confusion. I do. However, you must know I was not always like this. Petteri was good boss for the time I worked for him. I was bodyguard, not paid assassin. I went to gym twice a day. Had nice apartment in city. Made honest living for my family. It was only when asteroid was inbound—” He flexed his arm, drawing a downward path on the horizon, “that he ask too much of me.”

She let him think for a few seconds before he went on.

“I knew I went too far when I accidentally killed traffic officer. But by then, I was committed to protecting my mother as well as my darling Valentina. Problems arrived when you saved my life.”

“Twice,” Grace reminded him on the spot.

He smiled. “Twice. I know. Two times you prove to me you were better person than man I worked for. Two times you reminded me I was working hard to protect bad man. The problem, I realized too late, was I was only one link in long chain of operatives working for him. Some were compromised, like me, but some were in it for power.”

“Like Nero,” Asher added.

“Nerio,” Misha corrected.

“Right. Her. She’s one who likes what she does, isn’t she?”

Grace gave him a curious glance.

Asher acknowledged her concern. “I figure any husband and wife hit team has to be fully committed to the cause. Either way, she didn’t seem too concerned about collateral damage. She sprayed the entire train yard. If we’d been around a lot of people, they’d all be dead.”

“He is right,” Misha continued. “Nerio and her husband are having fun. It would not surprise me if she is in tank the next time we see her. Anything is possible now that Tikkanen mining is in charge of large areas of your country.”

She glanced over her shoulder, around her Chevy truck and beyond the train. The flat grasslands of boring Wyoming were back. If the woman had a tank, they’d see it from miles away.

When she turned back, Asher put his hand on her leg, prompting her to place her hand over his. He smiled broadly at her. “We’re in this together,” he said. Her curly-haired friend spoke to Misha. “We both thank you for what you’re doing, but if you try to hurt Grace, you’ll have to go through me.”

Misha laughed, then slapped him on the back. He was taller and huskier than Asher. If he’d wanted, he could have probably slapped him right off the back of the train. “I like you better as park ranger. Is much better look than in your cheap business suit.”

“Hey!” Asher replied, sounding a little hurt.

Grace stifled a laugh, not wanting to give anything to the ex-hitman. But he was right. Asher had been a fish out of water when she’d first met him. He wore his business suit and stylish dress shoes as if he’d come off the last subway stop from the big city. Now, with his crumpled and worn park ranger uniform, and the rifle slung over his shoulder, she bought into the image of him as a partner.

At the same time, Asher was correct. She couldn’t really trust Misha, no matter how sincere he seemed about finding his purpose.

She squeezed Asher’s hand, glad to have him by her side.

“I like you, too, Ash. Thank you for being here.”

“I wouldn’t—” He froze mid-sentence.

She saw it, too. Far in the distance, roughly above the train tracks they’d already traveled, a black speck coasted through the air.

A helicopter.

Arrow Rock, MO

“I can’t leave her with you. I just can’t!” Haley had taken a few steps back, as if the woman was going to steal the cat.

“She doesn’t have to be alone. You could leave the puppy, too. He and Jabba the Mutt are having a blast.”

Haley stood there for several moments, but abruptly stepped away from the group, almost on the verge of tears. Ezra guessed she might have been rethinking jumping on the boat with her pets in the first place. He might offer for her to stay in Arrow Rock to keep an eye on her pet friends, but he didn’t want to push her away. And there was no denying TKM had their sights on the three of them. If they tracked her down, and he and Butch weren’t there…

Butch sidled up next to him. “What do you think she’s going to do? I have to admit I was scared to death her pets were going to eat a bullet. Almost as much as I was worried about myself. But we can’t protect them. Not unless we have a bulletproof bunker on the boat.”

Ezra was thinking along the same wavelength. “Yeah, you and I need to figure out a way to stop having men shoot at us. I don’t want to lead all these dangerous men right to Grace. Then I’ll have put her in danger, too.”

“But it’s fine for me?” Butch chuckled, hitting Ezra on the shoulder.

Sobering, Ezra glanced toward Haley. “It’s not fair to any of us. Law and order has broken down a lot faster than I ever imagined before this started. It sounds like it isn’t going to get better in Kansas City. It might be a while before our journey becomes safe again.”

“You mean like that one ten-minute stretch we had on the water two days ago?”

He turned to his friend. “You can stay in this yard too, mister.”

“What? Are you going to turn the boat around if I don’t behave?”

Butch cracked up, as did he, at least until Haley returned.

She wiped away a lone tear. “I heard what you two said. Do you really think it’s going to get more dangerous than it already has?”

He and Butch shared a world-weary look. Ezra answered. “Those men on the bridge are looking for the three of us. We’re probably in some federal database they’ve tapped into. I’m afraid we’ll be pursued by this group until one side is totally gone.” Ezra didn’t need to spell it out any further.

He continued. “You and Butch are welcome to disembark. Hide out in a forest. There’s no way they can search the whole state. However, my daughter is counting on me to get to her in Denver. I can’t stop now.”

Josephine spoke up. “Maybe those men won’t be able to catch up to you. No one is supposed to be on the highways right now. They might be stuck in Boonville.”

Ezra doubted the TKM trucks would be stopped by anything for very long. The company had become the law in St. Charles. They probably had a similar arrangement with other cities. Maybe the whole state. “We have to assume they’re coming. We can’t let our guard down.”

“So, totally dangerous?” Haley asked, as if seeing the light.

He nodded grimly.

Haley turned to Josephine. “Would you really take care of them both for me? It’s an awful lot to ask for a few gallons of gas.”

The older lady scoffed. “This isn’t about gasoline. This is about helping a fellow woman in her time of need.”

Butch snickered. “You aren’t going to eat them, are you?”

Josephine and Haley glared at him with double-barreled power.

He put up his hands. “Sorry. It was only a joke.”

Haley eased up. “Don’t mind him. I’ll slap him later.”

The woman softened. “You know it’s the right thing to do for your furry pals. They shouldn’t be out on a boat for days on end. They shouldn’t go to Kansas City, either. None of you should. But most of all, they shouldn’t be put in danger. I promise I’ll take care of them.” She scowled at Butch. “And I promise not to eat them.”

Butch wore a sheepish grin.

Liam chose that moment to run in a circle around Haley. She choked up as she scooped him in her arms. Her puppy voice was almost hoarse. “Would you like to spend some more time here at this lovely place? This nice woman wants you to visit with her boy. Victoria would be here, too.”

Haley laughed a bit, looking to the group. “It’s not a big selling point. Liam is scared of Victoria. She swiped at him a few times when he tried to play with her.”

Josephine took her hand and walked her over to the pet crate, leaving him and Butch to themselves. They swapped out their jug of gasoline for one from the shed, then walked the heavy five-gallon container to the gate. Standing there, he thought he heard the sound of engines from the distant two-lane highway.

“Haley, I’m so sorry, but we’ve got to go. We don’t want to endanger anyone if those men come through here.”

“I know,” she replied with sadness. She spent a few moments talking to her orange cat inside the box. She also allowed a few seconds for hugging Liam. To the pup’s credit, he ran off and got back to the serious business of chasing the bigger retriever, rather than moping around Haley.

Ezra waved to Josephine. “Thanks again for your hospitality. We’ll be back for them, and when I do, I’d love to visit your town more. If everyone’s as nice as you, this would be a lot like my home in Kentucky.”

“We have a big fall festival in October. Come visit us then!”

Josephine had just closed the gate when he heard multiple engines revving. It didn’t sound like normal traffic driving past the town on the two-lane highway. The vehicles were on the residential streets.

“Run for the woods!” he shouted.

“See you soon!” Haley yelled back to Josephine, once again on the verge of tears.

“Looking forward to it, sweetie!” the woman yelled in return.

Liam and Jabba the Mutt barked happily.

They’d brought their rifles, and Butch had given Haley a five-minute tutorial on using it. He’d even let her fire it off the side of the boat a few times. However, they weren’t ready for battle. He also didn’t want anyone to get between them and the boat.

As they went over the wooded hillside where they’d come up from the river, the TKM trucks arrived on the woman’s street. The flash of blue was unmistakable, even through the leaves of the trees. He didn’t think they’d been spotted, but he couldn’t be sure.

“Nobody stops until we’re on Susan’s Grace,” he ordered.

They had to work to keep up with Haley. She wasn’t only running away from men with guns. She’d been forced to run away from her four-legged friends.

CHAPTER 8

Near Cheyenne, WY

As soon as the helicopter appeared on the horizon, Grace and her allies gathered their weapons, secured Shawn and Diedre inside her truck, and positioned the Lahti anti-tank gun so they could fire it off the back of the train. There was some arguing between Logan and his father as to whether he would be inside or outside the vehicle, but the boy eventually relented and stayed with his dad. However, by the time everyone was situated where they were supposed to go, and they had all their plans together about how to fight against a moving target, the aircraft was gone.

Grace was afraid of where it went, but Misha seemed to take it in stride.

While still lying on his stomach under the back axle of the Suburban, he waved her over. “I think they found us on the tracks to establish our route. Now they are going to fly around us. Next, they will set up an ambush. Probably when the terrain allows them to stay hidden.”

She surveyed the grass fields on both sides of the tracks. “So, it will be a while?”

He made a face suggesting he wasn’t sure.

“Well, what do we do about it? We can’t exactly take an alternate route.” Robert had explained there was only one set of tracks cutting across the southern half of Wyoming. It wouldn’t get them all the way to the dig site, but it would get them within fifty miles.

“I have been thinking of how to help you. Does your wrecked truck still operate? I can see sunlight from under it.” He pointed up and down, to a hole that went into the floorboard of the Chevy, as well as the big divot in the wooden car beneath.

Grace couldn’t say for sure. The woman in the helicopter had put several rounds into the rear bed, opening up six-inch holes in the roof and at least one hole on the bottom, but she had no idea what damage the bullets had done to the insides. She’d started the engine to be sure it was intact, but there was no way to move it while it was tethered to the flatbed. There wasn’t time to slide out the ramps and drive it around.

“It should work, yes.”

Misha rolled sideways, out from under the vehicle. “Then I can use it to scout ahead. She will not expect us to do such a thing. I would not expect it, if it were me in helicopter.”

He hopped up off the deck, rubbing his hands together as if anxious to get the truck operational. She might have to defer to his expertise, but she wasn’t going to let him go off alone. Not in a vehicle under her supervision.

“How about we both go? That way if one of us gets into trouble, the other one can help. Safety in numbers, you know?” She was glad the clanging of the rail cars and the drone of the diesel train engine made it harder for those inside her truck to hear them speak. Shawn would probably tell her she was nuts for even suggesting a partnership.

“I’m going, too.” Asher stepped into the discussion. “There’s no way I’ll let Grace out of my sight. No offense,” he added, looking directly at Misha.

“None taken, my friend. The more, the happier, no?” He scooted the Lahti from its position, leaving her and Asher a moment to themselves.

“Are we really going with him?” he asked, suddenly not so sure of himself.

“I think so, yes. Aside from keeping an eye on him,” she tilted her head toward Misha, now shoving the big rifle in through the back door of the truck. “We can help your sister and the Crow men by drawing the female assassin to our truck, rather than the train. With a little luck, the train can sneak through while we deal with the helicopter.”

“It sounds like an impossible plan.”

She couldn’t agree more. “It’s the only plan we have. Misha was right. If we sit on the train and wait to go into a trap, we’ll all be at the woman’s mercy. I don’t think she’ll be so easily fought off again, even with our special gun. Our only hope is to do the unexpected.”

Asher turned thoughtful. “But Misha made one logical error. He said he wouldn’t have thought of it if he were in the helicopter. However, he did think of it. This was his idea. Doesn’t it mean the woman might have thought of it, too?”

It was a gamble from start to finish.

Grace put her best face on it. “I’m putting your words to the test. We need to stick together, whatever happens. Hopefully, nothing will.”

“Fat chance!” he blurted, laughing.

She laughed a little, too.

Glasgow, MO

After getting back to the boat and filling the tank with all five gallons, he hit the throttle as hard as he dared. They had to cover the next ten miles as fast as possible. Haley seemed subdued after giving up her pets, and even Butch laid off the jokes while she stared off into the brown water of the Missouri River. However, they all came alive when they reached the bridge at the town of Glasgow.

The small town was situated on the eastern shore of the river, though, like Arrow Rock, tall trees made it difficult to see the shops and homes. A line of ten or twelve grain silos rose above the far side of the bridge. The other side of the river had facilities for barges, and six of the flat boats were moored over there. The place struck Ezra as more industrial than touristy.

“She steered us right.” Ezra pointed to the shoreline at the south edge of town. He slowed to idle speed and went for a boat ramp and a small marina with a gas pump. The big sign above the door of the wooden shack said Stallman’s, as Josephine had promised. However, as soon as they pulled up alongside the dock, a police car sitting at the nearby parking lot flipped on his lights.

“Oh, crap. You think he’s here for us?” Butch was half out of the boat, laden with multiple weapons.

“Maybe drop the long gun,” Ezra whispered.

Butch hopped back in, doing as instructed. Ezra shuffled some of the packs around to cover the rifles. He and Butch retained their concealed pistols. They were hidden under their shirt tails.

The big guy got out and went right to the pump.

An officer in a blue uniform strolled the dock until he came close. He looked at Susan’s Grace, then at Butch. “You wouldn’t by chance be the three people who just left Arrow Rock, would you?”

Ezra’s pulse thumped. He wasn’t sure what to make of the question, but there couldn’t be many pontoon boats on the water. He’d only passed a handful of working boats over the past few days. They were a trio of people hard to mistake for anyone else. Ezra decided on being honest. “We did stop in Arrow Rock. We needed gas. We took five gallons in trade.”

The officer held up his hands. “Oh, you misunderstand. I got a phone call from a woman named Josephine McAdams. She said there would be a boat coming through with a crew who were being harassed by armed men on bridges. She was very keen I show up and make sure you passed through town without incident.”

Haley choked up.

“You okay, miss?” the officer inquired.

She nodded through the tears. “I want to hug Josephine, is all. She’s done so much for us. I can’t even tell you. It was so nice of her to help one more time.”

The policeman had a few extra doughnuts around his beltline. As he stood there, he hitched up his trousers, as if proud at being a part of such a poignant encounter. “Never let it be said we don’t take care of our citizens here in Glasgow.”

Ezra hopped out to talk to the officer. “Sir, those men who have been shooting at us from on the bridges are with Tikkanen Kinetic Mining. They’ve been after us since St. Charles, where they shot up the town’s police force, as well as people like the three of us.”

The man’s badge said his name was Curtis. “TKM? I highly doubt it. Since this business with the statewide lockdown, their company has given more to local sheriff’s departments than we’ll ever be able to say. I was able to buy four new police cars with cash.” He leaned closer. “And I only have three officers.”

Ezra had the man figured out in seconds. He would never believe those same benefactors would do anything as underhanded as shooting at their boat. He immediately changed tack. “I keep hearing about this lockdown. You didn’t come here to arrest us, that’s apparent, but what can you tell us about the statewide order?”

Curtis chuckled. “It’s mostly for the big-city folk. Don’t want them rioting and all. Out here, we’re a bit more relaxed. Out on the river…” He shrugged. “Stay out of trouble and you’ll be fine.”

Ezra couldn’t contain his own laughter. “Sorry. This boat used to be on Kentucky Lake. It survived passing through the broken dam. So did he and I.”

“The dam broke?”

Ezra nodded with enthusiasm. “We got a Biblical amount of rain after the first rock hit Paducah. Too much for the lake to hold. Anyway, my laughter is because me and my friends have seen nothing but trouble since we left. I’d expect we’ll find it once we leave your town, too.”

Butch caught his attention. “E-Z. Don’t look now, but they’re here.”

Ezra didn’t turn toward the bridge, which was about a hundred yards upriver. However, Curtis turned to see what Butch was talking about. “Yep, those are TKM trucks. Are you positive those are the guys who’ve been harassing you?”

“Yes,” he said, wishing Butch would finish up.

Curtis hiked his pants again, suggesting he needed a tighter belt. “You all have my word no one will harass you on the way out of my town. I’ll go up there and make sure. I guaran-dam-tee you it’s only a coincidence. They’re probably here to buy me an armored car.” He laughed, turned for his car, but halted.

The friendly sheriff glanced over to Haley. “I’m glad Josephine called me. She sounds like a real nice woman. You take care, okay?”

“I will,” Haley replied.

“Be careful up there,” Ezra cautioned.

“Don’t you worry about me. Worry about yourselves. Lots of debris floated by here two days ago. Something bad happened in KC. If you’re going that way, you’re bound for trouble.” He tipped his hat and strode for shore.

Butch finished fueling. Ezra ran into the tiny marina store and paid. By the time he started the motor, Curtis and his flashing lights were approaching the bridge.

Ezra had to talk loud over the motor. “We’ve got to leave while the getting is good. I hope those TKM thugs don’t hurt our new friend.”

Denver, CO

The call from Stricker had been a near-run thing, but his quick thinking had once again saved him from disaster. He went back to communicating with his teams around the nation, as well as the men working the streets below him. He was confident they could hold the line against corporate competition, treasure-hunting citizens, and an unreliable Denver police force.

A red light appeared on his phone, prompting him to use the intercom with his travel secretary. “Who is it this time?”

“Miss Nerio, Mr. Tikkanen.”

“Finally!” he replied. “I’ll take it.”

The woman spoke as soon as he opened the line. “Hello from Wyoming!”

She was supposed to track down Asher’s escape train as it left Denver, not go to another state. “I assume you have some good news for me?”

“I’m afraid it depends on what you consider good news. I’m sure one of your clods in security has told you about Misha Gagarin and his escape?”

“They have,” he said with expectation.

“Of course, you also figured out it was me who helped that terrible person get out. But it was for a good reason, I promise. I stopped you from killing him because I knew he would lead me directly to my targets. Misha has no allies here in this country. As predicted, he went right to his old quarry, probably thinking they would protect him.” Her laughter was shrill, as if it was much funnier than it actually was.

“I figured as much.” Backed into the corner, he had no choice but to pretend he already knew the woman would create such an elaborate plan.

“Well, I was spot on, as usual. Misha made his appearance. I disappeared him. I used one of your lovely helicopters to shred his Russian butt all the way back to Bryansk.”

“I guess I owe you thanks.”

“Not…quite…yet. I’m in the helicopter again, following the biggest, slowest escape vehicle they could have ever picked. I’m going to get around them, set up a proper greeting, and end this.”

“Why don’t you swoop in and kill them right now? Why the delay? You have a helicopter. They have a train!” He didn’t think she needed a schematic to explain it.

She hesitated. “There are, uh, considerations. I had a mechanical failure I didn’t want to mention. It would be embarrassing for TKM if your aircraft broke down while over the target. It wouldn’t make me feel very good, either.”

“Fine. Don’t contact me again until this is over. I’m sick of hearing nothing but excuses with those people!”

He slammed the phone down.

A second later, the red light came on again.

“If it’s Nerio, I don’t want to—”

The secretary interrupted. “It isn’t, sir. It’s Mr. Stricker.”

“Him again?” he said to himself. Louder, he spoke to the phone. “I’ll take it.”

“Hello, Mr. Stricker. To what do I owe this pleasure?” He was certain the threat of releasing those photos had put the man in his place.

“I’m afraid I have bad news. The president was not in the mood to entertain any delays for our offer. In fact,” Stricker gulped on the line, “he says if you don’t sign over one of the largest pieces in the next twenty-four hours, he’s going to demand two of them. And if you keep delaying, he’s tempted to take all of them.”

Petteri recognized he was in the worst possible place of a blackmailer. It would be a snap to order those photos released, and they would be on the worldwide networks in five minutes. The career of a powerful cabinet member would be over. However, from Petteri’s perspective, it would represent a loss of every ounce of leverage he’d carefully built up over the years. Stricker was merely a means to exert control over the President of the United States. He wasn’t willing to throw that away.

“This is an interesting turn of events, Mr. Stricker. I’ll get back to you with my answer before your deadline. Good day.”

He slammed the phone again.

His arm was getting sore from repeating the act.

CHAPTER 9

Somewhere in Southeastern Wyoming

The good news for Grace was her truck still worked, despite having new bullet holes in the rear compartment. The woman had sprayed the vehicle from her aircraft, but didn’t waste enough shells to put it out of commission. The bad news for her, however, was that she now rode in the same truck with Asher and the hitman once sent to kill her. He sat in the seat behind Asher, as if he wanted a clear view of her, the driver. They hadn’t said a word for the last hour.

She glanced sideways at Asher, hoping to think of something to say.

He looked back at her, appearing as trapped in the situation as she.

It was Misha who finally broke the silence. “Who is Alex Trebek?”

In their first meeting she’d told him she was with a guy named Alex Trebek; it was the first name she could think of in the tense moment. She turned to check if he was being serious. His cold blue eyes said he was.

Grace shifted to keep her own eyes on the road. “Mr. Trebek is a game show host. It’s called Jeopardy.”

“Mmm-hmm,” Misha replied. “And you thought you were in jeopardy when you met me. Makes lot of sense.”

She could have told him he was wrong. Her reason for saying the name had been totally random, as best she could remember. Maybe she’d watched the show recently. Maybe one of the park guests had said the name. However, it was easier to let him believe she’d been scared back then. Her mission at the moment was to convince him she wasn’t scared now, even though she was experiencing record levels of jeopardy as she drove with Misha toward a woman in a helicopter with a machine gun.

“I would have made an excellent game show host,” Asher mused. “I have the rakish good looks, telegenic hair, and I dress in the same nice suits as Mr. Trebek.”

She sent over a you-can’t-be-serious eyeroll.

“What?” he replied. “You don’t think I can pull it off?”

“I do not,” Misha said dryly.

“You don’t get a vote,” Asher snapped. “Besides, you hardly qualify as knowing how to dress well.”

In prior meetings, Misha had always been wearing a black suit with a TKM-blue tie, as if he wanted to dress to kill, but when he showed up in the drainage ditch, his casual blue shirt was torn and dirty, as if he’d been robbed on the street. He’d taken off his blue uniform top, leaving only his undershirt. However, since he’d been in the filthy wet pipe, the white shirt was still covered with earthy smears.

“Bah. Maybe on American television. In Russia, we—” Misha cut himself off and pointed ahead. The two-lane road traveled very near the train tracks, as if there was one agreed-upon route across Wyoming. “There. That’s where we need to stop.”

She slowed. “Why there?”

“I will show you.”

They’d been driving long enough that the scenery was finally a bit different than the usual endless expanse of shamrock green. Now it was drier, with more hills, and a few exposed rock faces dotted with trees. There was still a lot of tall prairie grass, but the combination of trees and hills meant there were a lot of places to hide. Misha had pointed to a small hill next to the tracks, which was also close to the highway.

The prominent point was about fifty feet high and covered in saplings and high weeds almost to the top. When they got to the base of the hill, Misha directed her to park near a clump of trees and underbrush. He jumped out and started up without waiting for them.

“I guess we’re going up,” she remarked to Asher, who remained with her in the front seat.

“Or we could drive away,” he joked.

She thought about it, but was resigned that they didn’t have much choice. If they ditched him, there was no telling how he’d react. He might end up working with Nerio to attack the train anyway. It was better to have him on their side.

“Let’s see what his plan is.” She got out and followed the tall assassin.

They climbed to the summit of the rise. It appeared as if they were looking out at a postcard for Ireland, rather than Wyoming. The vibrant grass dressed up the gentle hills around them, and the two-lane highway and railroad tracks were the only two man-made objects in sight. Far out on the flat lands, the diesel engine chugged its way toward them.

“We have gotten in front of train, as I explained. From here, we watch to see if Nerio set up ambush.” He turned away from the train toward a more rugged section of hills behind them. “This spot would have given her an advantage to spot us coming for long way.”

“You expected to find her here?” Grace asked, gripping her rifle.

“Maybe,” he admitted. “I more expected her to fly away when she saw us arriving on road. But we did not flush her out.”

“Wait,” Asher interrupted.

She froze, as Asher was doing. It appeared like he was listening.

“Do you hear it?” Asher said, still straining to listen.

“A chopper,” Misha drawled.

As she concentrated, the wind brought in echoes of the thumping sounds of a helicopter’s rotors. In the context of where they were, she was positive it was Nerio.

“There!” Misha pointed far to the west. It was low to the ground, and almost at the edge of being audible, but she’d seen it appear for two or three seconds before it dipped below a distant hill.

“Was this a victory?” she asked, not sure if Misha had saved them.

The hitman remained stoic as he watched for the helicopter. “We must get back in truck. I will tell train what we saw.”

Misha pulled out the little radio he’d salvaged from his truck’s backpack. He’d given its partner to Robert the engineer, so they could communicate without needing the train to stop.

Grace pulled Asher away from Misha while he worked the radio. “Nothing about this feels right. I know the woman was trying to kill him and all, but Misha doesn’t act like he’s scared of walking into an attack and getting killed. He told us this could have been an ambush point after we were already here. Does that seem normal to you?”

Asher checked to make sure Misha couldn’t hear him. “I hate to say it, but you and I might be so far out of our element we might not recognize danger if it came up and bit us. This hill didn’t even register as a threat when I first saw it.”

It was even worse than she’d imagined. They were going into the hillier and rockier terrain of central Wyoming, much of which they saw from their perch. The woman in the helicopter could be waiting for them behind any of those outcroppings.

“We’re totally dependent on this guy to get us through, aren’t we?” she whispered.

Glasgow, MO

Ezra thought the men on the bridge were going to shoot at him, despite the presence of Officer Curtis and his flashing lights. He drove Susan’s Grace at idle speed, barely enough to make headway upriver. His thinking was that he wanted to give the policeman enough time to see the men and to be ready if they pulled out guns.

Two of the TKM guys hung over the edge and looked down. While he couldn’t see if they had weapons, he did recognize the handlebar mustache of one of them.

“It’s him,” Ezra whispered, while holding his rifle next to his seat. “From Bass Pro. It’s the guy who was pushing the cart of guns when we took them off his hands. He chased us over the highway…”

Butch and Haley held their weapons as well, though none of them pointed it up at the man, for fear of provoking a retaliatory strike.

“Are you sure? I thought we killed him along with his pals when we were by that smelly dumpster full of diapers.”

Ezra shuddered at the thought. There had been many TKM security guys in the gunfight, and he was fairly sure all of them were killed, but he couldn’t remember seeing the ’stache guy there. “I guess he’s the one who got away.”

The tall man casually waved and spoke down to them. “You people killed eight of my buddies. There will be a reckoning. You can’t hide under the cops’ skirts all the time.”

Ezra was sorely tempted to give him the finger or ignore him completely, but he didn’t want to risk pissing him off while the guy was in such a superior position. He flicked a curt salute toward the guy, then drove the boat under the bridge. Gradually, he gave it more gas, figuring the men weren’t going to shoot. Still, he veered left, toward the middle of the channel, so they wouldn’t be as easy to track from one side to the other.

None of the men bothered observing them as they put distance between themselves and the bridge. He sped up until he was doing fifty. However, when the river turned, and the bridge fell behind the trees, he immediately slowed Susan’s Grace down to thirty.

“What are you doing?” Haley said worriedly.

“I’m going at normal cruising speed.” He pulled out his map of Missouri and leaned to show her and Butch. “We’ve got about thirty miles to the next bridge, here, at a town called Miami. Notice how many roads are between there and the place we just left. The TKM bastards are going to beat us there no matter how fast I drive. We might even be forced to fuel up again. To save gas, we’re going to keep our speed low.”

“So, they’ll be ready for us,” Butch said seriously.

“It’s unavoidable at this point. We won’t have speed or surprise on our side.”

“Can we abandon the boat?” Haley asked.

Ezra scratched his head in thought. “I guess we could, but I’d really hate to go down that road. Unless you have a secret stash of money, I don’t think we could buy or even rent a car. This boat is our best shot at getting out west.”

The young woman seemed determined. “What about calling the police again? Call the army if we have to.”

He pointed to the map. “There isn’t a major town anywhere around. I’m not sure who we’d call. Even if we did, how would we explain who we are, why we’re on the water, and why we think we’re targets? I think Officer Curtis came down to the waterfront as a favor for Josephine. You could tell he didn’t believe there’d be trouble with TKM. The company seems to have hooks in law enforcement everywhere we go.”

“Then we’re on our own,” she lamented.

“Hey,” Butch said brightly to her, “don’t let yourself get down. E-Z and I have a few tricks up our sleeves. We won’t let anything happen to you.”

She smiled weakly. “Thanks.”

They drove for half an hour, each sitting in silence, until Butch pointed to a diamond-shaped river marker on the shore to their right. “Haley!” he barked, sending her six inches out of her seat. “This is a drill. Get out your rifle and shoot that sign!”

“Really?” she asked, fumbling with her weapon.

Butch mimicked her action, taking out his own rifle and aiming it toward the shore. “Like I’m doing. Safety off, aim, exhale, shoot.”

Butch popped off a round, causing Haley to jump again.

“Sorry,” she said, “I’m still not used to the loud noises.”

Ezra knew how she felt. No matter how many times he’d shot, and been shot at, each new crack of the gun did a number on his brain. His stomach clenched at hearing Butch’s rifle, as if it knew the stark bang represented incoming danger.

Haley knelt next to Butch and got her rifle ready. Butch had already checked it, primed the first round, and ensured it was good to go. She used the side railing as a support for the barrel and lined up her target, which was about a hundred and fifty yards away. When she fired, a spurt of water almost instantly shot up near the bank.

“Missing is normal,” Butch advised. “We’re bouncing around, so your aim won’t be perfect. Try to focus on the center point of the diamond. The bullet should still hit above or below and stay inside the sign. When you get a little more practice, I’ll show you what all the minute of angle dials are for on the scope.”

She pulled the trigger, sending up a puff of dirt close to the bottom of the sign.

“Better,” Butch said in a consoling tone, tapping Haley on the shoulder.

“It was,” she said with surprise. “I’m getting the hang of this.”

“Wait. Extend your arm and hold out your thumb so it covers the diamond shape.”

She did as instructed.

“Now, close your right eye. Does your thumb come off the target?”

Haley blinked a few times. “Yes. It isn’t pointing to the sign.”

“Do the same thing again. Hold your thumb in front of the sign with both eyes open. Then close your left eye. It doesn’t appear to move, does it?”

“No!” she exclaimed. “How is that possible?”

“It means your right eye is dominant. It’s good you were already using your right eye for the scope. If your left eye were dominant, I’d have you close it.” He laughed.

The young lady shot through a few more rounds before Butch cried out. “You hit it!”

“Yes!” she exclaimed.

“Now, shoot the rest of your mag. We’ll be out of range, soon.” Ezra hadn’t slowed for them. The sign was falling behind, and it was also no longer facing them, making it a narrower target.

While Haley fired, a distinct echo came from across the river. At first, he thought it was coming from her rifle, but when a tuft of Haley’s empty seat erupted, he knew what it was.

“Down!” he shouted.

He gunned the motor to full throttle, and veered to the right, toward the bank with the river marker. A quick scan of the opposite side revealed three TKM trucks parked on a levee fronted by trees. He figured they were at least two hundred yards away, maybe three.

No other shots hit their boat. The engine’s roar masked the sounds coming from the levee and soon they were beyond the effective range of the shooters. Using his mental map, he figured they were over halfway to the bridge. The TKM men had found plenty of time to pick a road that ran close to the waterway. If he’d been driving closer to the left bank, rather than in the middle of the river, they might have made easy targets.

Haley and Butch were in a pile in the middle of the boat. As he let off the gas and returned to cruising speed, he leaned over to them. “You can both get up now.”

Butch had thrown himself on top of the young lady, but her face was visible to Ezra. She looked to Butch and smiled. “You were saying something about not letting anything happen to me?”

The big guy rolled aside. “Yeah, sorry if I hurt you. It’s habit.”

“No problem,” she replied, rubbing her arm. “Next time, let me knock you down, m’kay? Or, better yet, let’s shoot back.”

Butch got to a crouch and held out his hand to pull her up, which she accepted. “If you’re going to shoot back, we need to get you reloaded. Let me show you how.”

Ezra sat back in his seat, exhaling the tension of the last two minutes. He was happy to see the two kids cooperating, but he was afraid the shooters had figured out they could attack his boat anywhere along the river they could drive. It gave him plenty of new things to worry about.

And the bridge was only ten miles ahead.

“We need a new plan,” he said dryly.

CHAPTER 10

Somewhere in Central Wyoming

Grace stayed ahead of the train for almost an hour, and, hoping to hone her skills, she kept trying to guess where the experienced hitman was going to have her stop. She saw hills similar to the one they’d visited earlier, but Misha didn’t seem interested. They passed isolated patches of forest scattered along the grassy frontier, as if someone had planted the trees in tight groups a hundred years ago. Each seemed ideal for lying in ambush. Still, he didn’t ask her to pull over.

After a certain number of guesses, she admitted to telling herself every new thing on the horizon was where he would point them next. Eventually, she was right.

“There. We must drive there.” He gestured toward a hundred-foot-tall ridgeline covered with grass, perhaps two miles long, and a hundred yards to the left of the roadway. The train tracks went into a tunnel on one end of the rise. The location seemed windswept and isolated, not very good for hiding, at least compared to the clumps of trees they’d passed. As they neared, she wondered why dozens of sections of tall wooden fences had been set in parallel rows outside the train tunnel.

“Why there?” she asked, truly interested in his reasoning.

“We can climb to top. It will let us look ahead as well as see how far back train is. We do not want to get too far ahead of engine, or Nerio could swing around and attack without us knowing about it.”

Asher spoke up. “Ah, that’s why we haven’t been speeding ahead.”

She’d been thinking the same thing. Whenever she started going too fast, Misha would ask her to slow down. She’d assumed it was so he could look at the terrain as they moved, but waiting for the train made sense, too.

“You are correct, Alex Trebek.”

She laughed out loud, despite her deep-seated fear of Misha. “Correct-Trabek? Did you intentionally make a rhyme?”

“Did I?” he asked with surprise. “English is not first language, in case you did not know.”

Asher chuckled. “And I think he just made a joke.”

She parked the truck on a gravel service road leading to the train tunnel. As soon as she exited her door, a gust of wind nearly stole her ranger hat. “Whoa!”

Asher left his hat on the front seat, so she did the same. There was no sense fighting the wind in addition to being wary about the helicopter. It went without saying they took their rifles, as they had to be prepared to fight. However, she also reached behind her seat and grabbed Misha’s backpack. He’d put a few of the remaining bottled waters inside, and she figured they might need them.

As she caught up to the two men, she realized it might have been better to hold the hat on her head, if it’s what it took to keep it on. The wind blew constantly from the west, smacking her blonde locks in and out of her eyes like annoying bugs.

“This is crazy!” she yelled into the gusts.

Asher’s curly hair shifted back and forth, like kelp grass in turbulent seas.

Misha had cropped hair. The wind didn’t seem to affect him at all.

Asher spoke when she got close. “The wooden barriers spaced everywhere out there are snow fences. They keep snow off the tracks during the winter. It must be brutal on this hill if this summertime wind is any indication.”

They walked up the hill until they were above the tunnel where the double set of train tracks entered. She thought it might be neat to sit there and watch the train approach and go into the tunnel, at least until a stout gust nearly pushed her over the edge.

“Okay! Let’s take a few steps back!”

Misha was already higher on the hill, so it was only her and Asher moving from the edge. When they got up to his position, his radio surprised them all by warbling.

“The engine must be close,” she reasoned.

Misha seemed conflicted. “This was not his ring. This is someone else.”

Everyone glanced around, searching for who it might be. It wouldn’t be unreasonable to find other travelers on the same channel, though not as many people were out on vacations these days.

“I will answer,” Misha declared.

“Be careful,” she said, knowing it sounded trite, given where they were.

“Hello?” he said into the radio.

“Delighted to hear your voice, my dear Misha. You know who this is.” She spoke with flair, even through the tinny-sounding speaker.

“Nerio,” he said with an even tone.

“Oh, I’m so happy you remember my name. I’m sure you’ve told your new chums all about me. But I wonder if I should tell them all about you?”

Misha cocked his head, looking at them both. “Everything this woman says is lie.”

The lady’s voice spoke clearly. “I was the one who helped Misha break out of his jail cell. Did he mention it?”

Grace met Misha’s cool blue eyes.

The hitman sighed. “That part is, unfortunately, true.”

Miami, MO

“We’ve got decisions to make about how to plan for the next bridge.” Ezra had the map out so Butch and Haley could see where they were. His dirty fingernail pointed near the town of Miami, but more specifically to the upside-down U-shaped bend in the river a couple of miles short of it. “We’re here, at the start of this turn. Maybe eight miles on the water to Miami. We can be sure these guys chasing us are going to be waiting there. The place barely looks like a town on this map, so there aren’t going to be cops we can call. How we approach the bridge, and survive, is entirely up to us.”

Butch looked up. “Remember our plan back at Kentucky Lake, before we were swept up by the draining waters?”

“How could I forget?” he chuckled.

“We were going to help those ladies get past the roadblock by coming at the men from behind their position. A sneak attack.”

Haley held up her hand. “Wait a second. How many women have you helped on your journey? Is this a regular thing with you guys?” There was underlying sarcasm she didn’t try to hide.

Ezra didn’t miss a beat. “Lots. Maybe a dozen. I drive the boat, but Butch brings ’em on board like nobody’s business.” He kept his expression focused and serious. As he expected, Butch was mortified.

“No, wait a second. It wasn’t how it happened at all. Those women were married.”

“Married women?” Haley scoffed, sliding back from the map. “Is that really your game?”

Ezra cracked a smile.

Butch went on, looking only at Haley. “We were helping them, yes, and they were married, but—”

Ezra bellowed with laughter.

“What?” Butch asked in surprise.

He winked at Haley. Butch caught him doing it.

“Oh, I get it. You two are joking with me.”

Haley came back to the map. “Of course we are. I told you I was going to have fun with you. Do you honestly think I would believe this is some kind of post-apocalyptic booze cruise, full of fun, frolic, and married women?”

“No, not when you put it like that.” Butch shook his head, but was smiling, too.

“I really needed a laugh.” Haley oriented on Ezra. “Thank you for playing along.”

He’d been happy to oblige. The next few minutes were decidedly unfunny as they looked at the map and tried to figure out what they were going to do to protect themselves on the passage underneath the bridge. They discussed building defensive measures, such as using driftwood to construct a shelter. They also considered finding an iron sewer lid, which would make a bulletproof shield, but they were far from any town where they could steal one. Neither method was foolproof. Both were defensive, which was their biggest drawbacks.

“It’s about five miles from here to here,” Ezra pointed at the near side of the U-shaped bend and then at the town of Miami on the far side. “Like Butch said before we had a laugh, our plan in Kentucky would work here. What if we walked along the bank and then snuck onto the bridge? We could shoot the men while they’re waiting for us.”

Butch snapped his fingers. “One of us could go up each bank. We could pinch them from two directions.”

Haley became excited. “I could drive the boat up the middle. Distract them.”

“Absolutely not,” Butch said immediately.

“Why?”

He seemed to think on it. “Because we’re going to drop E-Z off here. Then you and I are going to park the boat on the other shore and go together.”

“Don’t you think she should watch the boat?” Ezra suggested.

She glared at him. “Don’t try to pawn me off as nonessential. I made the decision to travel with you two. I want to contribute. I can’t learn how to do it if I’m watching paint dry on the boat.”

Ezra wanted to argue it was important to keep the boat from falling into the hands of passersby, but he didn’t think anything would change her mind. There was also the risk of backing himself into the corner of guarding the boat, which he didn’t want to do himself. It couldn’t be Butch, either. He was the tip of the spear.

If Butch wanted to take Haley, he thought it was a good compromise. “You’re right. Butch will keep an eye on you. And, yes, I think getting the pinch on these guys is the only way we’ll ever be free of them. There’s likely to be more TKM people closer to Kansas City. We don’t need them getting reinforcements there.”

Everything came together in the next few minutes. They each took a rifle and extra ammo. Only Haley’s rifle had a spare mag, so they needed to lug boxes of rounds in their new backpacks. The major item he changed in Butch’s plan was electing himself the one to drive the boat around the U-shaped bend. It would be his responsibility to park and hide it.

“Good luck, you two,” he said, waving at them as he backed the boat away from shore. As he spun the wheel and adjusted the direction, he imagined the blonde girl was Grace instead of Haley. He sincerely wished his daughter was part of the expedition. Of course, having her with him would negate the reason for the trip in the first place, and he admitted he’d be more cautious about letting her go off with Butch. However, given the available pool of manpower, he honestly believed the young girl would be safer with the experienced warrior rather than him.

The pair headed up the bank and into the woods.

They’d synchronized watches. He had ninety minutes to hop off his boat and run to the bridge. That’s when they both planned to start shooting.

Ezra tapped the bobber keychain, making it sway on his dashboard.

Susan wouldn’t even recognize the violent man he’d been forced to become.

Denver, CO

Petteri spent much of the afternoon moving pieces on his chessboard, which was how he’d come to think of all the dig sites around the nation. When he wasn’t talking to his staff personally, he was considering which of the sites he was willing to give up to the feds. When Stricker had said the president was going to demand two sites if he didn’t give up the first, he was resigned to the fact he didn’t have a viable choice. He needed Stricker to keep the National Guard off his back until he’d collected his ore. Losing one site was worth keeping the larger arrangement.

However, he was going to make Stricker pay for his betrayal at some point down the line. The man had made him look like a fool, and for that there was no forgiveness.

When the phone rang again, he reached for the handset, but instead jolted in place as the floor moved under him.

“What the hell?” He picked up the phone. “Hello?”

“Sir! I’m the lobby security supervisor. There’s been a breach of the building. A group of armed police are inside the lobby.”

“Did they blow us up?” he replied.

The man sounded frantic. “They used explosives to come through a concrete wall. They’re shooting at us and now heading upstairs!”

“For me?” he asked with surprise. Catching himself, he continued. “Of course they’re heading for me. Stop them! That’s an order.”

The line went dead before he got confirmation, giving him heartburn. He imagined the security man hanging up and pretending he didn’t hear the order. The guy was probably more interested in his own safety than protecting his boss. Petteri expected the man to lay down his life for him. He certainly paid enough to demand such a minimal level of dedication.

An instant later, Mr. Aarons ran through his office door. “Sir? You okay?”

He stood up. “You better have a plan. The lobby said the police are breaking into this office building.”

The bearded man nodded grimly. “We have a plan, sir. I need you to come with us right now.” He stood aside, inviting Petteri into the hallway.

His heart fluttered. A sudden wave of extreme anger bubbled up, directed exclusively toward the Denver mayor. She must have betrayed him to allow her police to attack in such a brazen assault. That feeling was followed up by sheer panic, as he suddenly realized the police might not be interested in arresting him.

“My safety is in your hands,” he said, hating how vulnerable it made him.

“Follow us, sir,” Mr. Aarons advised.

Other security officers were down the hall. One man held the door to the stairwell, as if inviting him to lead the charge toward the police ten floors below.

Mr. Aarons waited for him to reach his door, then the security chief ran toward the stairwell entrance. He followed at a brisk walk but hesitated at the final doorway.

The guy waited on the first step down.

“We’re going toward them?” Petteri asked.

“We need to get onto the eighth floor. It’s where I have everything set up. You have to trust me, sir. It’s going to be all right.”

Howard had once trusted the man. It was time to do the same.

CHAPTER 11

Somewhere in Central Wyoming

Grace and Misha stood on the grassy slope of the tall hill in the middle of the big blue sky of Wyoming. A moody storm front loitered on the distant horizon, threatening someone dozens of miles away. As majestic as the scenery was, her attention was consumed by the realization Misha hadn’t escaped from his captors. He’d been released from his prison by the crazy woman trying to kill them.

“Hello? Is anyone there?” Nerio’s voice inquired on the radio.

Misha didn’t hold the talk button. He spoke to her and Asher. “Petteri Tikkanen was going to kill me last night. I told you he brought me from the Yellowstone dig site. That part was true. Only fact I left out was Nerio opened my cage and helped me out of the building. I swear to you on my dead family I am not working with her. I found you because I knew you were in danger.”

Asher crossed his arms. “Or she let you go so you’d lead her right to us.”

Misha actually seemed surprised. “This is not possible. I am professional. Do not make mistakes.”

The radio came to life. “Is he explaining away his role in my finding you? I guess I should thank him. He did lead me right to you people.” She sounded like she was having fun talking to him.

Misha became angry. He keyed the mic and held it close to his mouth. “You know what you say is not true. You let me go, yes, but I was not followed. I was careful. I knew you were a crafty sooka.”

“Ouch, my dear Misha. We don’t have to argue like a pair of lovers, do we?”

Misha held the radio as if it had turned into a hornet. He shot a horrified look to Grace. “I am not her lover.”

“It’s not for me to say,” she replied.

Nerio went on. “If you take out both of the targets while we’re on the radio, I’ll put in a good word with Peter the Tick when we get back to Denver. That would be nice, wouldn’t it?”

Grace’s heart had crept into her throat without her noticing until she swallowed in fear. None of them were aiming guns at each other, but the hitman was a professional. He could shoot them dead before they fumbled with the pistols in their holsters. She watched carefully to see if he was reaching for his gun, but he wasn’t.

The seconds went by.

One of the nearby fence posts cracked as a bullet slammed into it. The three of them jumped, though Misha’s twitch was the least noticeable. A few seconds later, a distant gunshot resonated on the wind.

Misha searched the surrounding countryside. “She is close.”

They squatted to make smaller targets, but they were on an exposed hillside with nowhere to run.

“Kill them, Misha. This is a friendly request with a big cherry on top.”

He held the radio low. “We have to run for tunnel.”

“But we’re on top of it,” Asher replied.

“When you get there, jump down to tracks. She’s going to shoot us otherwise.” He held up the radio and spoke into it. “Nerio, what guarantee do I have you will not kill me once I do as you ask?”

“No guarantee. Consider it a professional courtesy from one independent contractor to another, washed-up, hitman. This moment is the whole reason I let you out of your cage. I wanted to see if you would come through for me after saving your life. Petteri was going to kill you, you know.”

He whispered. “Run, now!”

Grace and Asher took off at a sprint, but Misha lagged. He talked into the radio. “I will have answer for you in moment.”

“I’m sure you—” the woman’s voice cut off. “Ah, I see. Running is a big mistake. As it says on my favorite T-shirt, you’ll only die tired. Alejandro, kill them!”

The zip of a bullet ripped through the windy air. Grace’s hair went sideways and directly in front of her face as she ran the hundred yards down the hillside toward the tunnel entrance. A second bullet whizzed by, slapping into the dirt not more than ten feet behind her. The distant echo of gunfire was off to one side.

“She’s on the left!” Misha advised. “Go down the left side of the tunnel entrance!”

Grace looked toward the sounds, morbidly curious where the shots were coming from. All she saw were more hills and the usual grass, but there was a lot of ground in front of them. The deadly shooter could be anywhere out there.

She ran for a few more paces before a force spun her around and made her fall into the crunchy grass. The echo of a shot followed a moment later, suggesting she’d been struck by a bullet.

Asher had been behind her. He leaned and grabbed her arm to get her back up.

Nothing felt punctured or broken, which she thought was a miracle. After stumbling for a short way, she made it to her feet. The final stretch to the tunnel was steeper than the rest of the hillside, accelerating her run. Moments later, they reached the edge of the tunnel entrance.

“We have to go over there, where it’s lower.” Asher pointed to the leftmost wall. If they jumped down where they were, it was at least a twenty-foot drop to the tracks. A fall with all the gear they carried was almost certainly going to break an ankle.

“Go!” she replied.

Misha hurried by. “Like this!” He ran ahead as they tried to keep up. Without announcing himself further, he slid feet-first into the grass, guided himself over the edge, caught the lip for a fraction of a second, then fell ten or twelve feet to the rocks below.

She and Asher did it with a lot less grace. She sat down with a rough plop, and Asher bumped into her. The shooting continued, but they were already behind the slope of the ground dug out for the railroad. Asher hopped down first, then waited for her to follow. She shucked off her pack and let it drop. Then she held the edge of the rocks and let herself fall.

“I’ve got you,” Asher said, bracing her as she landed.

She spun around in his arms, letting herself enjoy the fleeting feeling of security. However, Misha handed her the pack, which had been split open on two sides by one of the shots. The bottled waters were punctured. They’d soaked the entire underside of the pack.

The radio crackled to life. “My husband has some explaining to do for his poor shooting performance. While we take care of that, I’ll leave you three to discuss Misha’s betrayal. And Misha, my offer still stands. Eliminate them and you can still return to your old job. Unlike some other people, I won’t threaten to kill your family if you don’t get it done. I’ll simply snuff you out with the others.”

Blood drained from Misha’s face. She figured he was going to curse out the woman for being so cruel, but he instead tucked the radio into his belt and ignored it. When he saw her expression, he turned to her. “Nichevo. Is nothing. She lost me completely when she mentioned wife. She knows about it. It tells me she and Petteri are working together. None of what she said was real.”

She cleared her throat. “Except the part where she let you go.”

“Except that, yes. But I think you understand why I did not tell you. She is not exactly, um, how to say? She is not sane.”

Grace nodded. “At least we agree on something.”

Miami, MO

Ezra was glad the younger kids had gone on the other side of the river. By the time he’d parked the boat, he figured he only had three miles to walk, rather than the five miles of woods and farmland they planned to cross. The afternoon sun was hot and the wet terrain alongside the river was a treasure trove of mosquitos.

“For once in my life, I wish I owned a cowboy hat like Butch,” he said to the buzzing cloud of bugs.

At first, he followed the path of the wooded shoreline, but he worried the men on the bridge would spot him as he walked closer. He decided to divert into a nearby field, which required him to travel up and over a tall earthen levee. The thirty-foot-tall structure ran for miles on both sides of the river. It was designed to protect the farm fields from all but the worst floodwaters of the river. He soon heard vehicles on the roadway, signaling how close he was to the bridge.

His watch said he had thirty minutes before he needed to fire the first shot. By agreement, he was to be the one who fired the lead-off round, so Butch would be listening for him. As such, he figured he needed to get closer to the bridge, if only to figure out where the targets would be located. He closed in on the two-lane roadway coming off the bridge.

A few cars had used the bridge during his approach, but the remote highway wasn’t well traveled. He halted in hip-high corn stalks while listening for traffic. It took several minutes before he heard a vehicle.

After waiting for the sound of the car to fade, he walked onto the roadway, intent on seeing if the blue trucks were already parked on the span. He had to go up the embankment of the levee to where it met the highway. The intersection was raised about thirty feet over the surrounding fields, giving him a good view of miles of farmland as well as the roadway over the bridge and into town. Not a car was in sight.

However, as he craned his neck toward the bridge to see what the town of Miami was all about, he noticed movement in the field across the roadway. A farm access ramp ran down the side of the levee, allowing farmers to get their combines and plows into the fields. The slope of the gravel road allowed several trucks to hide down in the depression.

“Holy shit!” he whispered, his heart shredding his insides.

All three TKM trucks were there. Five men were out of their vehicles, huddled around what could have been a map. Planning their mission, exactly as he had done with his team.

One of the men caught sight of him—

Ezra already had his rifle out and aimed. He used his 4X scope to dial in on any blue shirt. They were less than fifty yards away. He couldn’t miss.

It’s me or them.

His first shot created a red blotch in a man’s side.

The next one went into the shoulder of a different guy.

The men didn’t have their weapons out, creating a multi-second dilemma for him. Was it wrong to shoot unarmed men, even if you knew they were out to kill you? Whatever the moral situation might have been, the element of surprise created a golden opportunity he wasn’t going to squander. He strode a few paces forward and took a knee, searching for his next target. His heart slammed against his ribs, giving him instant tunnel vision, and leaving him a little dizzy.

The two mercenaries he’d struck fell where they were. One of the men ran away from the trucks, for reasons he would never understand. Ezra lined him up and squeezed out four missed shots before scoring hits with bullets five and six.

He’d counted through fifteen shots.

A man by the trucks had finally retrieved his rifle and returned fire, which woke Ezra from his bloodlust.

“Oh, damn!” He skittered in reverse toward the backside of the levee, realizing he was on top of the blacktop road, presenting a huge silhouette against the blue sky.

He fired three more rounds at the lone shooter as he retreated across the roadway. At the last second, not hearing return shots, he paused, lined the man in his scope, and saw him stick his head up from behind the hood of his truck. Ezra pulled the trigger. When he still didn’t hear incoming rounds, he looked through his glass again. Ezra wanted to retch.

The man stumbled and fell sideways, next to his vehicle. He’d lost half of his face.

An engine started up. The first truck in the line moved forward. Ezra was still out in the open. Behind him a farm field of immature corn gave him no place to run. He couldn’t run on the levee, nor could he run up the bridge toward Butch. The span was half a mile long. In the far recesses of his mind, he realized their attack plan was always destined to fail. Neither he nor Butch would see or hear the other from opposite ends of the long bridge.

The blue truck came out of the dip, tires slinging gravel rocks into the wheel wells. It neared the highway, leading Ezra to figure out his only course of action.

Fighting the fear in his shaking hands, he raised the rifle and aimed on the round shape behind the steering wheel. His first shot was low. It cracked off the front grille of the truck.

The man’s handlebar mustache came into focus. The driver pointed at him and laughed, as if he was going to run him over. Ezra figured he had time for two shots, then he’d have to try jumping to either side. His first went into the glass close to his target, forcing the wild-eyed man lower in his seat.

“Damn!”

Though there was little of the man exposed, round number twenty-one went through the glass low on the windshield, exactly where he wanted. To be sure, he put one more wild shot on target, then flung himself sideways, losing his rifle in the panic.

The truck roared by without stopping.

Ezra watched it continue along the levee and then drive off the side of the berm and into the corn field. The vehicle kept going for about a hundred yards before slowing, then it stopped. No one got out, leading him to conclude his defensive fire had done its job.

“Thank you, God. Thank you, Susan.” To his disappointment, his heart refused to slow down. It beat as if he were still running at full speed.

“Ezra!” Butch cried out from far away.

The big guy was out on the bridge sprinting his way. Ezra finally experienced some relief. His heart slowed, as if knowing help was close.

Haley came up to him, breathing hard. “Hey, Ezra.”

He looked again, wiping sweat from his eyes. Butch was still out on the bridge, about a hundred yards back. While only expecting his buddy, he’d missed the young woman approaching. Haley had outrun him by a good margin.

She knew what he was thinking. “He’s slow. I figured you needed some help.”

“They were all waiting for us.” He motioned to the far side of the road but held her back when she made like she was going to go over there. “Don’t.”

“Okay,” she replied, warily holding her rifle.

“I just wanted you to be ready, in case they come at us.” He could barely breathe, which upset him greatly standing next to the fit woman. The gunfight had taken the literal wind out of his proverbial sails. In contrast, she’d sprinted across the half-mile bridge and barely seemed to notice.

Butch arrived a short time later, also sounding like the run was nothing. After Ezra motioned to the dip behind the levee, the soldier crept up on the scene of the battle. When he looked over, through his scope, he squeezed a shot off. The report surprised Haley, and for some reason it also shocked him.

Butch stood up. “That sucked. One wounded guy tried to get a bead on me. I couldn’t let it happen. So, uh, I think they’re all dead now. I see three by the trucks, plus one farther down the way. Weren’t there five of them?”

Ezra pointed to the truck out in the field on their side of the highway. “He’s the last one. Let’s go check on him together. He’s the ringleader. Mustache man. I’m pretty sure I got the guy.”

The three of them walked into the corn.

CHAPTER 12

Somewhere in Central Wyoming

The train arrived ten minutes after Grace and the others jumped to the tracks to escape Nerio’s bullets. Once they explained what had happened, the group posted guards at both ends of the thousand-foot-long tunnel and waited to see if the helicopter would show up again. It gave Grace a place of safety to deal with Misha.

“Tell me again why we should trust you? Who is this woman? How does she know you? Why does she think you would even consider killing us?” Frustration leaked into her voice. “I took your word it was necessary to go the opposite way from my father. Was that a lie, too?”

“I already told you everything. My career with TKM was in security. I knew of men and women like Nerio. Paid thugs who did work I never needed to know about. But they are not only thugs. They are highly trained. Intelligent. She knew enough about me to suspect I would go certain direction when set free.” His shoulders slumped in a very un-Misha-like act of contrition. “And I am thinking she was right. I did lead her to you. Not other way around, as I thought.”

She kicked at the gravel next to the railroad tracks. “Forget all that. It’s water under the bridge. I want to know why we should place our lives in your hands. Why should we trust you have friends where you’re taking us? Maybe they’ll betray you, too.”

“Water under bridge?” the Russian asked with curiosity.

She answered. “It means we can’t change what happened.”

“Ah.” Misha walked toward the wall of the tunnel, then leaned against it, pulling out a pack of smokes. As he lit one up, he offered the pack to her and Asher.

“No, thanks,” she said with impatience.

Asher took longer to wave him off. He’d given them up over the past week and probably thought getting shot at by a sniper was a good reason to pick up the habit again. To Grace’s relief, he didn’t break down and accept. It struck her how much she cared for the guy, even when they weren’t kissing under high-stress situations.

Misha lit up, took a long drag, then looked at her. “When I left dig site south of Yellowstone, it was well organized. Well defended. My friends and I had expertly kicked out competing mining company…we kept peace by flying helicopters over nearby lands. But when I got to Denver and saw how chaotic Tikkanen had made it, I knew it was only matter of time before Yellowstone site would go same way. Each person kicked out of Denver will go to next one. Draw of money is too great.”

“I get it,” she affirmed.

“Petteri almost shot me on spot when I arrived. Nerio saved me. At first, I thought it was professional courtesy. Now I know better. You can trust me because I have nothing left to live for but revenge. My family in Russia is dead. Is all water under bridge, as you said. It was Petteri Tikkanen who did it. Killing you to get back in graces of a monster is not how Misha Gagarin plays game.”

She almost believed him. “But you would have killed us if your family was still alive?”

He took a drag. “You already know answer to this question. I did not kill you when I had chance. Multiple times.”

Grace accepted the truth of it. At the time, he’d claimed it was payback for saving his life, but a less scrupulous assassin would have ignored the imbalance and simply done away with her. She’d thought about it a lot over the past few days, but it was the first time she realized he didn’t have to abide by an agreement at all. He didn’t kill her back then since he wasn’t actually a cold-blooded killer.

However, there was a killer out there.

She inhaled, sucking in some of the stinky cigarette smoke. Maybe it was her who was stuck in the past. She couldn’t ignore the facts of the last few hours. He’d saved their lives again by getting them into the safety of the tunnel. “Fine. We have to trust you. How the heck do we escape this tunnel, get across the state of Wyoming, and make it to your friends?”

Misha saw her distaste for the fumes, so he blew them away from her. “The middle of Wyoming has lot more places to hide train. I saw it all on my helicopter ride to Denver. Tracks go in valleys. Along rivers. Through trees. Once it gets dark, we will split up again and go in your truck to scout ahead. Maybe we will catch her in air. Maybe not.”

“You don’t sound too sure of yourself,” Asher volunteered.

“I do not, my friend. A helicopter can fly at night. We have no night-vision equipment. No way to get any. We have to push through while we can. There is no waiting out darkness.”

She looked outside the tunnel on her end, which faced east. The sun was low in the sky, casting the tops of distant clouds in soft, orange light. She felt marginally better about Misha the person, but he didn’t sound as if he believed his plan would work.

Once it got dark, the predator would see them, but they wouldn’t see her in return.

Miami, MO

Ezra and Butch made a big production about sneaking up to the truck in the field, each taking a side, weapons drawn. However, when they reached the front window, the blood splatter all over the interior assured him they’d been cautious for nothing.

“You got ’em, E-Z. You got him good.”

“Yeah,” he agreed, stomach reeling.

Haley took a peek inside before glancing somewhere else. If she was upset by what was left of mustache man, she didn’t let on. Instead, she hastened to the cargo bed of the truck. “Jackpot!”

He and Butch joined her.

“Let’s take what we can,” he suggested. “These guys obviously looted a store somewhere. This is probably all from Bass Pro.” The back bed of the pickup truck was filled with camping and survival gear. There were multiple tents. Sleeping bags. Cooking stoves. Tanks of propane.

“Butch, could I ask you a huge favor?” he said while they stood admiring the gear.

“Anything, boss.”

“Would you open the door and yank our guy out of the front seat? We’re going to drive this truck out of the field, down the levee, and back to my boat. It will save us the effort of carrying this stuff.”

“I’ll help,” Haley said without hesitation.

He gave her a sideways look.

“I know what you’re thinking. Why?” She smiled. “I know what it’s like to be in shock after violence.” Her eyes went to his hands, which he held over the lip of the truck’s bed. They trembled enough to be noticed.

“Damn,” he said, pulling them behind the side of the truck.

She and Butch made short work of the task. They opened the door, pulled the man out, then Butch used his strength to drag the guy several more yards out into the corn, so he was out of sight. When they were done, they used something from the bed to wipe down the rear window. They also put a camo jacket over the seat, to hide the blood. It was more than he’d asked, but the delay gave him needed time to calm himself and bring his blood pressure back down to normal.

While they worked, he used Haley’s phone to try Grace again. After what he’d done, he needed to hear her voice. However, it went to her voicemail. He was anxious to hear her, even in recorded form, which was why he noticed she’d changed the recording again. It said she was going west, not east. A huge change.

He calmed himself before speaking, so she wouldn’t worry about him. “Hi, honey. I got your voice message. I won’t go into Denver. We’re on the river, though, heading west. I’ll try to get to where you said. TKM has been after us. They almost killed me.” It came out without him consciously saying it. Inside, he must have needed to talk to her more than he admitted. Still, he tried to end without sounding worried. “I have to go. I love you.”

Once back at the boat, they didn’t hop in and go. Ezra advised them to take their time, since there was no one coming for them. They could finally stow things in a logical way.

He grabbed three sleeping bags. Transferred two tents. He considered bringing one of the propane stoves but didn’t think it would mix well with bullets. He also thought about taking all the extra rifles, but if anyone ever figured out the three of them were responsible for the attack, they wanted the authorities to know the dead men were armed and dangerous. They already had three good rifles and bulk ammo to share between them. Finally, after loading all the new gear on the boat, he realized he’d missed a critical piece of their leisurely boarding process.

“Um, people. This is all wrong.”

“It wasn’t me,” Butch replied sarcastically.

“Yes, it was,” Ezra insisted. “You let me load all our stuff while we have a perfectly good truck at our disposal.”

Butch gave him a blank look. “I’m not tracking you.”

“We ate some more bullets, which added to those already in the pontoons. We can use this truck’s tow hitch to pull the boat onto the shore, then I’ll use the epoxy to properly seal the holes, then you two fine youngsters can push Susan’s Grace back into the water.”

“That doesn’t sound fun,” Haley deadpanned.

“What part of this has been fun?” he asked seriously.

She turned pensive. “Seeing my Liam play with Josephine’s black lab was a little fun.”

Butch materialized next to her, then slung his arm loosely over her shoulder, as if not quite sure he should do it. However, she leaned into him, before continuing. “I’m sorry, I don’t want to bring down the mood.”

He chuckled a little. “Haley, you have nothing to worry about with the two of us. Our moods have been in the crapper since we left Kentucky. The only thing keeping us going is our sense of humor. Sometimes, all you can do is laugh.”

Butch picked up on his vibe. “Yeah, you have to laugh when the dam breaks in front of you.”

Ezra continued. “You have to crack up when six thugs force you to take six lives.”

Haley brushed back some of her bangs. “You have to laugh when the only way to keep your furry friends safe is to leave them in a remote country town.”

“That’s the spirit,” he said in a soothing tone. “I’d be happy to drive you back down the river so you can get out and stay with your pets. My daughter’s voicemail said she’s on the move. We’re not going to Denver. We’re going to Yellowstone. It could change a dozen more times, so you don’t have to come with us…” He hung it out there now that they weren’t under the gun. It amazed him how fast his perspective changed when no one was chasing them. They could go up the river. Down the river. It didn’t matter, as long as they eventually went toward Grace.

She seemed to think about it. “If I’m honest with myself, I got on the boat to escape what happened to Xander. Before he died, he told me to find someone who could protect me. Since the TKM people were rampaging through St. Charles, he thought a second wave of violence was coming, and he wanted me to be ready for it.”

Haley tilted her head to look at Butch. “I knew you were capable of keeping me safe, and I’ve already admitted part of my reasoning was, um, because you were a cool drink of milk.” She giggled. “But all these men shooting at us tells me Xander was right. I need to stick with someone who can take care of himself. Someone who can train me to survive. If you’ll let me stay, I really think I found the right guys.” As an afterthought, she looked over to Ezra.

He shrugged. “It was only an offer. I think I speak for both of us when I say you’ve made our day brighter, not darker.”

Butch nodded. “He speaks for us both.”

“Aww,” she bubbled. “You want me to stay?”

“I do,” Butch croaked.

She separated from him, brandishing a toothy smile. “Good. You can unload the gear. I’m hoping Ezra will show me how to hook his boat to the back of the truck with a tow strap. I have to learn, right?”

He and Butch shared a knowing look. In that moment, he’d never seen his friend happier. It was a nice silver lining to the day they’d endured.

The muddy water continued to flow by, even as the shade of the trees blocked the sun and cooled things down. He figured it had been a couple of hours since he’d first set foot on dry land, and the day had gotten away from him.

To all, he added, “Let’s hurry. Once we fix the boat, we’ll steer the truck into the water to make it disappear. Then I want to get a few more miles while we still have some light.”

Denver, CO

Aarons brought him down the first two flights of stairs. As he ran by the door for floor nine, he caught sight of Dorothy in her business suit. The men tried to keep him moving, but he grabbed the door handle to stop.

“I have to get her.” He pointed to the dark-haired woman.

Petteri didn’t need their approval. He opened the door and shouted, “Dorothy! Over here. Come with me.”

She jogged up to him. “What’s going on?” As she arrived, she caught sight of his security team with their weapons out. “Are you all right?”

“Yes, come inside. Hurry.” He held the door ajar so the young woman could come through. Once in, the security men shoved them both toward the steps. He allowed them to shepherd him, glad he’d done a heads-up play to rescue his helper. If anyone was watching, he’d be labeled a hero. He’d also make sure she didn’t forget it.

Dorothy was unable to stay silent. They’d gone down a few steps before she spit out questions. “Where are we going, sir? Are these guns really necessary? Where’s everyone else?”

“Shush. We must both do as we’re told.” He wasn’t sure if it was necessary to tell her it was the police coming up the steps. It wasn’t the time to explain why his people couldn’t allow a small-town mayor to put an end to his business dealings.

“Okay,” she said, growing scared.

Aarons held the door as they went into the hallway of floor eight. It was pitch black, suggesting the lights had been shut off. He pointed where they should go using his flashlight. The first two security men guided them to an interior room in the middle of the building.

“Wait a second,” Petteri pleaded, realizing they were going to shut them inside.

“No time,” Aarons replied.

“Who’s staying with us?” he asked his security chief.

Aarons was going to close the door, but he paused and pulled a pistol from his belt. After a quick pull to cycle the action, he handed it to Petteri. “Safety is off. She’s hot. Shoot anyone who comes through this door.”

“Where will you be?”

Another explosion shook the building. Pieces of the ceiling tiles rained from above, like snow on a dark night.

Aarons flipped down a mask he recognized as a pair of night-vision goggles. “Sir, I’ll be out here making them pay for every inch they try to take. Don’t worry. We got this.” The man slammed the door.

Petteri went back to feeling out of control.

It didn’t suit him.

CHAPTER 13

Somewhere in Central Wyoming

When it was near dark, Misha called them all together. Besides her, Asher, and their immediate friends, there were still a few people in the boxcar who wanted to tag along, plus Robert and a fellow railroad employee who helped pilot the engine. All told, there were twelve people in their group.

“We will be safer in darkness,” Misha said dryly. “We should go.”

“Safer?” Robert asked. The man in the greasy coveralls had been a good sport about having been shot at several times, but he was clearly growing weary of the activity.

“It will never be perfectly safe. Nerio—the woman in the helicopter,” he added for the new people, “has the tools to make our lives miserable all hours of the clock.”

“He means our best chance is now,” Grace added, amazed to find herself backing up the ex-hitman. She continued. “We’ll go back out in the truck and scout ahead.”

Robert and the others didn’t immediately jump at the chance to go, but Misha reminded them why they were heading to the rock near Yellowstone. As before, he told them how he had friends there who could protect them, but then he added a line about making them all wealthy with the ore from the dig. That seemed to entice everyone into accepting the risk.

When she and Asher got back in the truck and drove toward the orange sunset, she asked him about it. “Why did you tell those people they would get rich going toward Yellowstone? Was it a lie to get them to do what you wanted?”

Misha shifted forward, one arm on each of the front seats, so he could speak from the back. “Nyet. Not a lie. Your friend, the Crow, said he wants to secure rock on his land. We can do the same for TKM piece where we are going. When you see it, I am sure you will agree is enough wealth to share with those who help defend it.”

She saw a flaw in his plan right away. “But you don’t know if the owner will agree to it.”

He exhaled. “I am betting he will.”

They drove for several hours during the night. Misha radioed back and forth with the train at regular intervals, to ensure Robert didn’t see the helicopter, either.

Traffic on the highway helped them blend in. Nerio couldn’t shoot at each car, Grace reasoned, so the threat to them was much less than those on the bigger train. A few times they spotted aircraft in the sky, causing her to ask if they should pull over and turn off their lights, but each time Misha counseled her to drive on.

“If you stop, we will stand out,” he said the first time. “That would be bad.”

She continued on, ignoring the second and third brushes with lights in the sky.

After traveling the interstate for another thirty minutes, the truck crested a rise which allowed them to see a straightaway at least twenty miles into the distance. The white twinkles of headlights were barely visible at the vanishing point near where the ground met the starry sky. However, a black shape passed in front of her sight line, far closer.

“Stop!” Misha shouted.

She slammed on the brakes.

“Lights off!” Misha yelled, already almost in the front seat.

Grace slowed the truck, kicked off the headlights, and veered toward the side of the highway. She rolled the window partway down to listen for the expected sound of a helicopter.

An eighteen-wheeler roared by in the next lane, momentarily drowning out everything else.

“Did you hear it?” Asher asked, rolling down his own window.

“I think so,” she whispered.

“It was her,” Misha said, shifting himself around the rear seats. “I know it.”

The semi’s red lights continued down the highway, allowing the air to settle outside the truck. As she listened, the sound of a chopping rotor became evident. “Yes, I hear it now.”

“Where is she?” Misha said evenly.

“Can we get out the big gun?” Grace asked, feeling as if the truck were about to be split open by the machine gun.

“There is no time for it. It is not effective when the helicopter is directly above.” He continued to move around from one side of the rear compartment to the other.

“There’s always fine print,” she said to Asher, seeking a laugh from her friend.

He smiled in the low light of the dashboard before responding. “We have to trust him.”

“I know,” she lamented, anxiously slapping the steering wheel.

“Be ready to go when I say.” Misha’s voice had become clinical.

The dark shape returned, a few hundred yards in front of them. The silhouette blotted out the stars. “I see it!” she exclaimed.

“Drive!” Misha shouted.

The clatter of Nerio’s machine gun tore through the nighttime air as Grace pushed the gas pedal all the way to the floorboard. The concrete of the roadway behind them lit up with fireworks as a laser-like line of orange zipped out of the sky.

Misha finally sounded nervous. “She uses tracers. Avoid those.”

“No kidding!” she railed. Another volley came down from the flying platform of death. Grace realized, too late, there was no hiding from the glowing fingers of the tracer rounds. Both lanes of the highway were easily visible to her in the orange hue burning off the incoming rounds, and thus they were an easy target for the killer above.

She didn’t wait for guidance. As the woman searched for her target, Grace let off the gas and slammed her boot into the brake pedal. The truck skidded, sloughing off all the speed she’d built up in her short escape.

Misha tumbled forward.

Nerio’s aim was disrupted. It went in front of the truck, as if she’d been anticipating its movement. Then the blazing light turned off again.

“Hang on!” she advised before kicking her beloved Suburban in the guts one more time. “And get in the very back!”

“I try,” Misha squawked, bouncing around the cabin.

There was only one place she could go.

On the Missouri River

They gained a good number of miles before the sun was totally gone. Based on what he saw on his map, he guessed they were on the outskirts of Kansas City. As much as Ezra wanted to keep going into the night, prior experience with the debris in the water made him pick a spot to beach the pontoon boat until morning. Since they had tents and sleeping bags, all they needed was a patch of forest to hide in.

“I’ll put the girls’ tent over here,” Haley said in a mocking tone.

Butch was already setting up what Ezra assumed was the boys’ tent.

After securing the lines and checking his epoxy patches on the bullet punctures in the pontoons, he came over to where Butch had piled a few branches for a fire. “Need me to collect some wood?”

Butch nodded. “I’ll have this tent up and the tinder started by the time you get back.”

Haley made less progress on her tent. If she was still at it when he returned, he’d offer a little help. They were going to be on the water for a long time, so she might as well learn how to set it up at her own pace. It’s what he would have done with Grace.

He walked into the trees, eager to find dry wood for the fire. His eyes were adjusted to the moonlit darkness, making it easy to see the numerous logs and sticks on the ground. After filling his arms and turning to go back, however, he heard the distinct footfall of someone crunching a branch.

Without waiting for it to happen again, he dropped his bundle and unslung his rifle. There was no way he’d ask if anyone was there. He was sure someone was close. It wouldn’t be Butch; he wouldn’t play around when weapons were involved. Haley might be out there, but he didn’t think she was that reckless, either. Plus, Butch wouldn’t let her go off alone. All signs pointed to it being a stranger.

The crackle of a human’s steps happened again. Closer.

He gently set the safety to the hot position.

“Hello?” a man asked from the darkness. “I give up.”

Ezra hesitated for half a minute. Was it a trick? A trap? Should he respond?

The voice came closer. “I’m done for. You got me.”

He saw the outline of the man in the moonlight. He was much closer than he would have thought. Ten feet, at best.

Ezra needed to reply. “I’m not here to hurt you. I came from downriver.”

“Really?” The talker stumbled forward, out of the brush. It was a dangerous act if the man really thought someone was out to get him. Didn’t he know how easy it was to be shot these days?

“Hold up! I don’t know who you are.”

The man stopped a little beyond arm’s length. “I ain’t nobody. I’m unarmed. Got nuthin’.”

“Why are you out here sneaking around?”

The man seemed surprised. “Because it’s the only safe time to move. Don’t you know about the gangs up and down the river?”

“No,” he admitted.

The guy whispered. “The gangs make sure no one can walk down the street no more without being hassled for food and water. Even sitting inside your house ain’t no guarantee. They come in and help themselves to what’s yours.”

“So you came out here?” he asked with doubt.

“We try to escape. Most of KC was blown up by the falling star. I had to go out to find some, uh, food for my family, but the gangs chased me all the way to here.”

“How far are we talking?” The answer might give him a clue how many people were on shore in the miles ahead.

Even in the darkness, the shrug was evident. “Not sure how far. Ran all day in the woods along the levees next to the water. It’s the only place they don’t have eyes. I got turned around a couple times. Now I’m too far to get back through all them tough guys. That’s why I was giving myself up. I’ll take my medicine from them and get back inside the city.”

He heard laughter in the distance, causing him to seize up like a rabbit spotting a hawk. “Are they still following you?”

Ezra thought the man nodded yes, but he didn’t wait. He spun around and ran for his friends.

“Wait up!” the guy said in too loud a voice.

“Come on,” he replied, anxious to get the man to shut up.

He ran around the trunk of a huge tree and found Butch stoking a tiny fire. “Put it out!”

“Why?” his buddy replied, instantly tipping the kindling and throwing dirt on it.

“Company. We have to get out of here.” He almost forgot about the man behind him. “The first guy is with me.” As he said it, he wondered if it was true. How easy would it be for a group of bad guys to send one loner in front of them to lure victims into a false sense of security? While they focused on the men laughing in the background, the faker could get the jump on everyone.

“Haley, grab what you can. Get on the boat. Butch, watch this guy with your rifle.”

The man came out from around the trunk, winded from trying to keep up with Ezra. There were fewer trees near the water’s edge, making it easier to see the guy was in his fifties or sixties. Balding head. Thick glasses. He didn’t appear overly dangerous, nor did he seem to carry any weapons.

He and Haley yanked the tents down and rolled them into crude balls, with the poles sticking out and the sleeping bags inside. He threw his in the middle section of the deck, then caught Haley’s as she tossed it onboard.

“Let’s go,” he hissed.

Butch retreated to the boat.

The man came with him. “Take me upriver. P-please,” he stuttered. “It will get me around them!”

Ezra had a split-second decision to make. The sounds of men talking and laughing was closing in on them, as if the gang members wanted to be heard. It meant they carried no fear of who they might encounter. By contrast, the lone man shook in his tennis shoes.

Ezra reached out a hand. “Welcome aboard.”

CHAPTER 14

Somewhere in Central Wyoming

“Get your gun ready!” Grace shouted over the revving engine. She’d punched the gas pedal, squeezing every ounce of horsepower possible out of her park service truck.

“It is,” Misha said, holding the rifle she’d taken from the TKM guard.

“Not that one,” she blurted. “The big-ass gun!”

The helicopter shooter had stopped firing as she reoriented on the moving truck. Grace wasn’t driving according to any plan or template for dealing with flying aircraft. Instead, she was motivated by the base instinct of survival. The only spot on the entire frontier she could get safe from the bullets was directly below the helicopter.

Misha had to kick the wooden partition behind the rear seat, but he struggled against the g-force of her acceleration as he tried to get in the far back.

The helicopter began moving, though it was hard to tell where. She imagined the woman yelling to the pilot, telling him to swing her around to get a shot on the truck as it sped away.

She smashed the brakes once more when she estimated she’d reached the underside of the copter.

“What!” Misha cried out, falling back into the rear seat again.

“Just hang on. I’m doing something. Be ready with the gun out the back window.” She’d never experienced such focus. Her insides rode a tidal current of panic swirling around fear, but Grace didn’t let it show. Not in front of the hitman. Not in front of Asher.

She cut the wheel before the truck stopped, which whipped the back end sideways. Misha went tumbling again, this time into the rear cargo space. In the middle of the action, she let herself smile at the minor bumps and bruises she was giving to the guy. However, the important fact was he was with his Lahti. It was the only reason she was trying such dangerous maneuvers.

The U-turn wasn’t as clean as a professional stunt driver’s, but she was proud of her performance. As she hammered the gas once more, her truck was aimed against traffic. Lights far down the highway were only a vague concern. They’d either be dead by the time the lights reached them, or…

“Be ready!” she screamed.

“I am trying,” Misha replied.

“It’s still there,” Asher said, looking behind them.

“I know,” she exhaled.

“It’s turning…”

“I know,” she repeated. Her plan was dead simple. Get the helicopter pilot to think she was going to speed down the highway, force them to start a turn to match, but then reverse course at the last second. The park service truck might have been clunky and unwieldy, but it was still more agile than the helicopter when turning on command.

“I can see them now.” Misha spoke dryly. The workman-like tone of an assassin dialing in on his target. “I need second.”

Grace heard the Russian jam metal on metal, like he was cocking the heavy rifle. A quick glance over her shoulder confirmed it was balanced on the broken rear window. The lights of the helicopter were coming into view. She also saw the woman behind her own big gun. “Oh, jeez,” she croaked.

Looking ahead, the world turned orange. The tracers fell from the helicopter as the whir of the machine gun dialed back up. However, an ear-splitting hammer drop came from the rear end of the Suburban as Misha fired his anti-tank rifle out the back.

“Holy shit!” she screamed reflexively, only half-aware of what it was. The concussive blast slapped her on the back of the head with real force.

“Hit!” Misha exclaimed, sounding a little excited.

Fingers of light danced outside her window, flying into the fields on both sides of the roadway, suggesting the hit hadn’t stopped the shooter up there.

Another concussive pop rattled the inside of her brain.

Distantly, Misha claimed a second hit.

Grace’s heart begged her to slow down, get out of danger, jump from the target on wheels, do anything to allow it a breather. The orange tracers swung closer to her truck, forcing her to both swerve right and ignore every inch of her body except the two hands working the wheel. One of the orange fingers of death appeared inches from her window. If the bison hadn’t ripped off her side mirror days ago, the maniacal woman’s bullets would have done it in that second.

She swerved onto the shoulder. The grassy median offered a little extra room, but there was a wire running down the middle. If she got caught up in it, game over.

Misha fired a third shot. Her ears were about to burst from the pressure and the painful thunderclap. He scored another hit, but his voice sounded like he was yelling from far down the roadway.

The orange flares of tracers shut off in an instant. The returning darkness outside seemed absolute. The sudden switch seemed to indicate he’d struck true with his shot. However, he spoke with frantic urgency. “We have to jump out!”

“Out?” she replied, not sure if she heard his muted voice correctly.

Asher reached over. “He’s right!”

She trusted Asher. Grace hit the brakes, feeling lost. Was the helicopter still there? Wouldn’t they be easy targets on the outside? Didn’t Misha have the super gun? He couldn’t carry it with him…

Asher immediately opened his door the second she had the truck parked.

She hopped out of her door, still disoriented.

Someone grabbed her by the arm.

“Misha?”

“In ditch!” he ordered.

She ran with him for about fifty feet until they both fell into the tall grass in the median of the highway. Looking back, out of breath, her watery eyes confused by everything, she saw a small fire in the back of her beloved truck.

Misha got up in her face, as if she couldn’t hear him speak. “Do you hear it?” He pointed up, intentions clear.

She searched the sky for the helicopter.

Admittedly, she wasn’t sure her ears even worked.

Kansas City, MO

Ezra watched as Butch gave Susan’s Grace a huge shove off the bank. He was about to start the motor, but he thought better of it when he observed how quietly they’d departed from shore. “Butch. Be ready with the rifle. We’re going to float out of here.”

The big guy looked at him, not saying anything for several seconds, before replying. “I understand.”

It didn’t take long before the voices came closer to where they’d been. Flashlights bobbed and weaved in the trees, arriving at their camping spot even as the boat drifted out into the current.

“What’s your name?” he whispered to the man they’d picked up.

“Kelly. Kelly Hobson.”

“Well, Kelly, nice to meet you. I’m Ezra. That’s Butch, and the young lady is Haley.” His intention was to keep the guy calm. The guy’s entire body shook violently, as if panic had taken deep root inside him.

Kelly kept talking, a little louder than he was comfortable with. “I hate to ask, but do you guys have any pain meds? I’ve got a bad back…”

Ezra reached over and touched the guy on the shoulder. “Stay quiet, okay? We’re in the middle of a maneuver, here.”

The boat drifted in the night.

The lights became more distant.

Even the voices faded.

“I think we made it,” he finally said.

Kelly spoke as if he’d been waiting his turn. “So, about those meds?”

Ezra looked at him anew. Kelly wrapped his arms around himself as he sat up against the bulkhead by the motor. He was also sweating profusely, constantly removing his glasses to wipe his brow. Something was seriously wrong with him, and it wasn’t the fear of being captured by gangs.

“I’m sorry, Kelly. We don’t have any meds. We can offer you a little food or water, if it would help you or your family.” He’d said he’d come into the woods looking for help for his family.

“Damn. Well, can you take me upriver like you said? I need to get out.”

While the man put his head in his hands, Ezra grabbed his rifle and set it against the side of the boat on his right. He caught Butch’s attention and got him to secure his as well. Haley was near the front of the boat, well outside the reach of the probable addict.

Ezra let the boat drift for five additional minutes. Kelly asked a half-dozen times about meds, where they thought he might find some, and if they knew anyone in the area who might, possibly, just this once, prescribe some for him.

Finally, he started the motor.

“Hold on, Kelly, we’ll get you upriver like you asked. Then you’ll be free of the gangs and able to find what you need.” He felt bad for the guy, but he represented an unnecessary risk to him and his crew. The sooner he could kick him to the shore, the better.

It was impossible to mask the sound of the engine while on water. He and Susan used to sit on their dock watching boats ply across Kentucky Lake. The far shore was almost two miles away, and they could still hear the boats on that side when they were at speed. On the Missouri, they only had maybe two or three hundred yards from one bank to the other. His options were to drive slowly and keep his engine noise to a minimum or go fast and get past the search party in the least amount of time.

“Butch, we’re going to take it slow. Be ready.”

He throttled up enough to get them moving, staying on the opposite side of the river from the group of men, and hoped they wouldn’t be of interest to anyone. He assumed there were other boats on the river, and there was no way the men could reasonably suspect he’d picked up the guy they’d been searching for.

Over the course of those minutes he’d begun to wonder about Kelly’s story. If he was an addict, what were the chances those men were lawful citizens trying to catch someone who’d done them harm? Why did it have to be a crazed group of gangbangers? Of course, the laughter and loud voices of the searchers didn’t seem overly professional…

Ezra kept one eye on the far bank.

And the other on their strange passenger.

Denver, CO

Out of everything happening in his life over the past week, including living under the threat of a rock dropping on his head, Petteri hadn’t come close to being frightened to the point of panic. However, holding the cool metal of the pistol while sitting in absolute, smothering darkness made him appreciate a new bottom on his fear spectrum.

“Sir, are we supposed to sit here and do nothing?” Dorothy asked from close by.

He noted she wasn’t latching on to him, like in a movie where he was the hero. Instead, she sat about five feet away, if he was any judge of voices in the dark. It bothered him on a fundamental level that she seemed so confident while he experienced such fear.

The building shook, as if another bomb went off. It wasn’t his building, so he didn’t care much about the damage being done, but each strike indicated the police were getting closer to his position. Breaching walls, as his man in the lobby had relayed before he cut and ran.

Another item nagging at him.

He gripped the gun firmly. Whatever was heading his way, and however fearful he was inside, Petteri Tikkanen didn’t cower in the darkness and take it. He’d used a gun before. It was time to do it again.

“I’ll protect you,” he said to the young woman.

Dorothy grunted noncommittally, which he tried hard to not hear as her mocking his statement. If there was one thing he was confident about, it was his own confidence. The young lady would be grateful to have him around. All he had to do was show her. He aimed at where he thought the door was.

A burst of gunfire rattled from close by.

Several booming shotgun blasts came from another part of the level. Since he was inside an interior room, the battle seemed to be all around them.

Men shouted.

Petteri’s old heart skipped up to jogging speed. Then a sprint.

The battle raged closer. Gunshots and screaming men mixed into a soundtrack of destruction. How anyone could survive it was beyond his understanding.

An explosion seemed to come from right at the door. An object struck his head in the darkness. Not in a painful way. More like someone slapping him. In reaction, he fired the gun toward where he thought the entrance was located.

Dorothy’s reaction to his gun was to squeal with fright.

“I’ve got you,” he said, mimicking the tone of the action hero he knew he could be.

The room filled with light as the door blew open.

“Breach!” a man shouted.

Petteri’s ears popped with the pressure, and his eyes filled with dust, but he aimed at the dark shapes coming through the doorway.

In seconds, the gunfire seemed to erupt from all over the room. How many of those shooters were searching for him?

Heroes don’t die like this.

CHAPTER 15

Somewhere in Central Wyoming

Grace hopped out of the grass, intending to stop the fire now burning in the rear corner of her truck.

“Wait,” Misha advised. His eyes were on the helicopter.

“My truck—”

“A second, pajaloosta. Please,” Misha implored in mixed Russian and English.

She did take a pause. Asher quickly crawled across the grass to get next to her. Together, they waited for the green light.

“It is going,” Misha assured her.

“I’m good?” she asked.

“You seem fine,” he agreed.

“I mean, can I go to my truck?” she said with exasperation at his English comprehension.

“Da! Go!”

She hopped up and sprinted to her truck. On the way, she made sure Misha was right; the helicopter rotor noise faded into the night. She also tried to triage the truck. The flames didn’t appear to be spreading. They were focused on the rear corner of the driver’s side.

“Help me put it out!” she yelled to Asher, not knowing how to do it. They didn’t have a fire extinguisher or more than a few small bottles of water.

By the time they arrived, he’d unbuttoned his park service shirt and ripped it off. The second she opened the rear gate, he patted the fire with his makeshift blanket.

“Over there. Get it!” She pointed to a secondary fire spreading along the rear wheel well. The carpet had been singed. There was also a large hole in the frame of the truck. She looked straight through to the road below, which was now bathed in light from an arriving vehicle. Before she pulled herself from the smoky cargo area, she took note of the fill pipe leading to the fuel tank. The heavy machine gun shell had narrowly missed it. It also missed the rear tire.

“We got lucky,” she said.

Misha sauntered up to them.

A big rig slowed and stopped beside her truck. The driver, a young woman, rolled her window down. “You folks okay? From back there it looked like a fireworks show had gone wrong. What the heck happened?” She checked out Asher, who was shirtless and panting to catch his breath.

Grace waved in a friendly manner. “It’s nothing. Just a little fire in the rear compartment. We’re good.” The ski-feet of the Lahti sat on the open tailgate. If the driver saw it, she didn’t make a comment. Grace shifted on her feet to try to block it from view.

“Well, do you need anything? Is it out? I have a fire extinguisher on board.”

The woman was about a minute too late to be of use. However, since she was there, Grace figured it was worth asking. “You wouldn’t by chance have any bandages? We have an injured friend in another vehicle.”

The woman smiled. “Yeah, I can scare something up. Let me check in the back.”

While she drove ahead and moved the sleeper cab to the shoulder, Grace jumped in the truck and turned it around, so it faced the proper direction. She put it directly behind the woman’s tractor trailer. Asher, smudged shirt mostly back on, immediately climbed in the front with her.

“Hey, you did good putting out the fire. I wouldn’t have thought to take off my shirt.” She laughed at herself for saying it.

Asher chuckled as well; he was tucking in his soot-stained shirt while they sat there. “If I’m being totally honest, I would have preferred you’d taken yours off.”

She glared at him.

“I meant because I didn’t want to ruin my shirt!”

Grace maintained her focus.

He relented. “Okay, I guess I also wouldn’t have minded seeing you without it.”

She relaxed. “Well, unlike you, I have a tank top underneath, so I wouldn’t mind taking my own shirt off. However, I didn’t think of it. You did. That’s the important thing right now. Thank you for saving my truck.”

He patted the dashboard above the glove box. “She’s taking quite a beating, isn’t she?”

Grace sighed. “I’ve given up worrying about what my bosses are going to say when I bring this back to the depot. I figure I’ll be paying this off for the rest of my life. On a park ranger’s salary, it’s not an exaggeration.”

A couple of cars roared by on the highway, then the woman walked up to Asher’s window. “I don’t have much. I forgot I helped at a motorcycle accident a few weeks back. Haven’t replaced my supply.” She held up a small bundle of gauze bandages.

Asher took them. “Thank you.”

The woman looked across Asher’s spot and directly at Grace. “Are you all right, miss? I’ve been on the road long enough to ask questions when I see a young woman in a wrecked truck with two men,” she turned to Asher. “No offense.”

Grace smiled. “Oh, no. It’s nothing like that.” She stopped to think about it. How would she explain one of the men was previously a hitman sent to kill her? It was best to avoid such thoughts. “These two guys are my friends.”

An orange glow lit up the sky across the highway. The woman stopped looking at her and instead gazed at the attraction. Grace turned left, expecting the helicopter to have returned. However, the orange lance of tracer rounds fell from the sky far out on the nighttime grasslands. At first, it seemed as it if was a waste of bullets, but the zaps of light were aimed at one point.

Misha slammed the rear liftgate, pushing the heavy Lahti inside the truck. “We have to go!” he shouted, while walking around Asher’s side. When he climbed in, he added, “Nerio is using her minigun on the train engine. We have to get out there to shoot her from sky once and for all.”

Grace turned to find the woman standing with her mouth open. They looked at each other for a few seconds, before Grace spoke. “I promise you, I’m fine. These two men are protecting me. It would take too long to explain all that we’re doing, but thank you for the bandages. We might need them now more than ever.”

The trucker stood back from the window. “You’re going toward machine gun fire?”

“We have to,” Grace assured the lady.

Grace put it in gear. Once she was around the big rig, she put the hammer down.

“How bad is it?” she asked.

Misha was glued to the window, looking to the left. “We will not know until we get there, but attack is already over. She is leaving.”

“That can’t be good,” Asher added.

Kansas City, MO

Butch leaned over to talk to Ezra. It was obvious he didn’t want their new passenger, Kelly, to hear what was said. “I don’t think he’s armed, but maybe we should have a policy where we pat down anyone we bring on board.”

Ezra laughed quietly. “I’m with you. I believe what he said about someone following him, but I think there’s more to it. Stay sharp.” Louder, he added, “Please keep an eye on the water. If you see garbage out there, let me know so I can go around it.”

“Aye, aye,” Butch replied, only loud enough for those on the boat to hear.

They inched through the darkness, ever searching the far shore. Ezra was certain he saw flashlights bobbing after they’d gone a few hundred yards, but it could have also been car headlights far in the woods.

“Where are we taking you?” he asked Kelly, who remained seated against the rear bulkhead.

The man glanced up. “Not far. Upriver until you see the casino. It’s pretty much the last thing standing in these parts.”

“You said you came from your home. Where is that?”

Kelly sniffled loudly. “I live around. Drop me at the casino and I’ll get there.”

Ezra liked the guy less with each interaction. Was anything he said truthful?

After a short drive, they’d gotten around the searchlights on the far shore. He guessed they’d passed their old campsite and had added another quarter of a mile of river. He was beginning to feel better about their chain of events.

“Hey!” a man shouted from the near bank. A flashlight beam cut through the darkness until it found the boat. “I see you! Can you stop?” The man’s voice was loud and colored by desperation.

Ezra went into full alert mode. He’d gotten them so close to the left bank, someone could probably throw a rock and hit them. Even the darkness couldn’t hide them completely.

“Sorry!” he said forcefully, but not in a loud voice. At the same time, he gave the motor more gas.

“Bastard! Don’t go!” the man seethed. “Are you with TKM?”

Additional flashlights appeared on the near shore. Some were behind them, but many appeared in the trees on the bank ahead. Kelly popped his head up and down, getting more anxious as the number of beams converged on them. “Don’t stop,” he cautioned.

“Are these the gangs?” Ezra asked, wondering if it was the same on both shores of the river.

“All bad,” Kelly whined.

Another man shouted from the trees. “There’s a boat! They’re with TKM!”

Many people rallied to his words.

“We’re not with them,” Ezra replied, still unwilling to shout and attract more attention to himself. He didn’t dare go too fast; Ezra had to keep watch for debris in the water. However, he veered toward the middle of the river, hoping to put some distance between himself and the angry people.

“Butch, what do you see?”

“Lots of threats, E-Z.”

Sure enough, as he continued upriver, the woods on the left side cleared out. A number of tents had been pitched along the open shoreline. Lanterns illuminated many of them, despite the late hour.

“It looks like a campground,” Haley volunteered.

“No,” he replied. “Those are refugees.”

“Come back!” a man bellowed across the water. There was a pregnant pause before the guy added, “Or we’ll shoot!”

“Crap,” he said under his breath. “Hang on, guys.” After giving his crew a few seconds to prepare, he shoved the throttle forward, getting them up to a reckless cruising speed for the middle of the night on unfamiliar waters. The wide river made it easy to avoid the shore, but everything below the surface could potentially destroy his prop.

Flashlights followed Susan’s Grace, despite Ezra’s push to reach maximum speed. Seconds later, the man made good on his threat. The boom of a shotgun echoed across the water as if chasing his speeding pontoons.

“Stay down!” he ordered his people, knowing it wasn’t necessary to be so obvious.

The shooter manually cycled another round and shot toward them.

“What are they thinking?” he asked the wind. “If they shoot us, do they think we’ll then willingly come over to them?”

Somehow, Kelly heard him. “People aren’t right in the city, dude! The space rock has ’em spooked.”

“I’m spooked, too,” he agreed.

Butch edged over to Ezra. “Want me to pop a few back to shore?”

“No, there are tents everywhere. I don’t want to hit an innocent bystander. Then the whole city would be after us.”

“Smart, as always, E-Z, but I think the whole city is already after us…” He pointed to the riverbank ahead. More lights blinked on, as if the tents weren’t part of a small campground isolated by the river but were instead part of the city itself.

The man with the shotgun gave it one more try, but they were at the edge of the gun’s range. However, Ezra wondered if the man was trying to hit them at all. Maybe it was a call to arms for those on the shore.

“Ezra, look back there.” Haley pointed behind them. More tents lit up, on both sides of the shore. Running flashlights were everywhere.

Kelly cautiously peered over one of the seats. “I told you the gangs were out there. Now they’re going to get us.”

The boat was in the middle of the river, but Ezra wasn’t sure any distance would make a difference. Ahead, more lights focused on the waterway, some very bright. Car headlights were turned on, pointing toward his boat.

“My God, why are they doing this?” he shouted to his friends.

“I don’t know,” Kelly yelled back. “But I see the casino.”

While almost everything else in the city was dark, or run by battery lights inside tent canopies, the two-story hotel and casino was shrouded in bright white floodlights. A three-story clocktower served as the centerpiece. The time showed three thirty.

“I’m not sure if we can—” Ezra started to say.

He was cut short as Kelly sprang up, climbed over the rail, then jumped into the water. He didn’t explain himself or say goodbye.

Ahead, more headlights came on.

Apparently, they were about to be the main attraction.

CHAPTER 16

Somewhere in Central Wyoming

“Please be all right,” Grace mumbled to herself while driving off road toward the train. The moonlight provided enough of a guide to see the stopped engine and she was able to drive alongside the tracks to get there. When she got close enough, she saw several small fires burning in the wooden boxcar, showing her the extent of Nerio’s attack. Things weren’t going to be all right.

“Stop here,” Misha instructed when they were about a hundred yards out.

“No thanks,” she replied.

Misha made a sound of frustration from the back, but she ignored it. He might have been thinking about a repeat attack, but she knew Asher needed to see his sister without delay. Grace skidded the truck to a halt as soon as she was next to the smoky engine.

She glanced over to Asher. “You check on her. I’ll help at the front.”

“Got it,” he said, springing into action.

“You are too close to train,” Misha said quietly.

She yanked the keys out and tossed them back to him. “Move it if you want.”

The engine was a mess. There were many holes in the orange metalwork of the side, and a round or two had gone into the compartment at the front where the engineers worked the controls. As she ran along the side rail, the voices of men in the front caught her attention. She became concerned about being mistaken for the assassin. “Hey, this is Grace Anderson. Is Robert in there?”

A few seconds went by before a face appeared at the open entrance. She exhaled with relief to see the engineer alive. Robert waved her closer.

“I’m glad to see you,” she said on approach.

“You too,” he replied, before turning somber. “I lost my partner.”

It had been ten minutes since the helicopter attack. It took her about that long to get off the highway, find her way through the tall grass, and drive the rest of the way next to the tracks. Robert’s overalls were covered in blood, suggesting he’d been working those ten minutes to save his partner.

“What about everyone in the back?” she pointed over her shoulder, toward the boxcar. The flatcar was presumably empty, since her truck was no longer on it.

He shrugged. “I haven’t been back there.”

She spun around, knowing there was nothing to be done at the front. She noticed Misha had moved her truck. She heard it in the darkness.

After hopping off the engine, and running along the boxcar, she found a handful of passengers in the grass, tending their wounded. Asher wasn’t there, prompting her to look around. The boxcar door had been left wide open, giving her a clear view of the fires inside. “Asher?”

“He went that way,” one of the men said without looking up at her.

“Thanks,” she replied, already jogging toward the rear of the train.

The tendrils of flame from the wooden panels lit up the empty surface of the flatcar, as well as the closest parts of the fields next to the train. It was evident in seconds Asher wasn’t there.

“Ash?” she cried out, feeling legitimate worry for the first time.

Grace went all the way to the back end of the flatcar. She checked underneath the car, simply to be thorough, but he wasn’t there. She even went to the far side and glanced toward the engine. Not there, either.

“Where the heck are you?” she said to herself.

“I’m here,” he finally replied. Asher came running up from behind her, sweaty and winded.

“Did you run around the whole train?” she asked with surprise.

“She isn’t here,” he said, ignoring her question.

“Seriously?” Grace knew he wouldn’t joke about it, so she waved him to follow her. “We’ll check again.”

He was about to follow when he enacted a robotic halt as he watched the tracks behind the train.

“What is it?” she asked.

“I see someone.”

They both studied the darkness as several shapes strode into the aura of light thrown out by the fires. One of the figures was limping. Another supported the injured man. A third person walked nearby, though not with much haste.

“It’s them,” he exclaimed. Then, louder, he yelled to the trio. “Diedre!”

A woman waved with her good arm.

“Let’s—” she started to say.

Asher was already on the move.

“Go help them,” she finished.

Kansas City, MO

Ezra was tempted to turn around and give up the idea of using Susan’s Grace to reach his daughter, but the rising anger on both shores of the river suggested he was on the one and only course to get through the crowds. Kelly might not have been telling the truth about why he was in the woods, but it became clear with each new headlight that something big was going on at the borderlands of Kansas City. The tweaker had run the gauntlet on foot and remained so fearful of doing it again he preferred to swim in the hazardous river.

Butch and Haley huddled together in the middle of the boat, serving as weights for the tents, so they didn’t blow away. It was also the only shielded position on the deck; the chairs and side rails provided a minimal amount of protection. Butch’s rifle lay next to him. Haley’s was close by.

“Stay down, guys,” he said over the engine noise. Though they had rifles at the ready, there was no way to fight back against such odds.

“I’m comfy,” Haley joked.

They were passing the casino when an explosion of light erupted about fifty feet over their heads. Fingers of purple light shot out in multiple directions.

“Damn!” Butch shouted.

The concussion from the blast fell upon the boat, literally blowing his hair back. Butch’s cowboy hat seemed to be glued to his head. It didn’t move at all.

“They’re using fireworks,” he said as an attempt to comfort his passengers.

Haley pointed to the next one arcing across the sky toward them. “Incoming!”

A giant pink starburst exploded over the middle of the river. The airburst was so large most of the display went right into the water. The top half went up a short way before collapsing and fizzling out.

The first two fireworks signaled the start of the follow-on show. A dozen streams of industrial-grade pyrotechnics rose up from the area around the casino. Ezra had no choice but to risk going faster, throttling up to about forty.

“E-Z, you enjoying this?”

“The fireworks?” he asked with surprise.

Another went off about ten feet over the water. Fortunately, it was about fifty yards behind them. They were bathed in a wash of warm air.

“Not really. Susan and I preferred watching them from across the lake, not directly inside them.”

Haley laughed.

“Just get us through,” Butch said in a reasonable tone of voice.

A ping on metal suggested it wasn’t merely harmless fireworks heading their way. Someone, maybe everyone, was shooting real guns at them. It occurred to him what the people on the shore were doing.

“The fireworks are only a light show. They’re using them to spot us!” More quietly, he added, “I think they believe we’re with TKM.”

Butch went right to sarcasm mode. “And why would that piss anyone off?”

“Because TKM are assholes?” Haley replied in a serious voice.

The headlights, spotlights, and fireworks combined to make the filthy river light up as if it were the feature in a Broadway show. Ezra needed to keep his eyes forward, ever searching for floating debris to avoid, rather than look into the blinding lights. Water spurts shot up in random places around them.

“I hope they shoot themselves in the crossfire!” Butch yelled, keeping his arm over Haley’s back.

Ezra couldn’t think of a valid reason why anyone would want to shoot at them. Even if they were with TKM, they hadn’t been given a proper warning or been told the area ahead was off limits. It seemed absolutely random.

Not far ahead, the line of lights ended.

“We’re almost at the end, I think,” he said, though he was unsure. The river went around a bend to the left, and it was mercifully dark there, but he wasn’t prepared to say it would be any safer. It seemed like a trap.

More bullets impacted his pontoons. He imagined them skimming by his head. Under his chin. Through the railing.

“Stay down!” he yelled.

A fury of explosions ripped the sky above, as if the fireworks people gave it one last finale to try to stop his boat. Guns discharged in winks of light from many places along the shore. He saw them as flash bulbs in his periphery.

“A little more,” he begged of Susan’s Grace.

The darkness ahead beckoned. As he rounded the bend at fifty miles an hour, the fireworks faded along with the gunfire, but the watery path ahead wasn’t much better.

“What. Is. That?” Haley snarked.

Ezra’s hand hovered over the throttle, again unsure if the sight ahead called for them to go faster or slower.

They’d found the reason for all the excitement.

Denver, CO

Petteri fired every round in his gun. The entire time he discharged his weapon, a dozen other guns fired through the dark room, every one sounding close enough to be inside his ear drum. Mr. Aarons told him to fire at anyone coming inside the room, and he’d done as instructed. What hadn’t been explained to him was what he was supposed to do when he ran out of bullets. When he fired the last round, he thought about it for a few seconds, then chucked the gun in the direction of the door.

Dorothy was crying on the floor nearby, but he wasn’t going to go out like that. He marshaled every ounce of his composure and stood in the darkness, ready to take it like a great leader.

Seconds went by. The spray of gunfire became a trickle.

His ears rang like Sunday church bells, but he caught a snippet of Mr. Aarons yelling to his men. He sounded close.

“Are you okay?” a voice asked from directly next to him. “Damn! You stood on your feet through that attack? Hardcore, sir.”

“Mr. Aarons?” he said with surprise.

“I’m going to turn on the lights. Don’t shoot me.”

“I won’t,” he replied, trying to hide how helpless he felt. The other man seemed to thrive in the darkness.

When the lights came on, Dorothy gasped. A dozen armed men, each with the word Police stenciled on their backs, were on the floor. Aarons and his men stood above them, their night-vision goggles shoved up over their heads.

He brushed himself off. “You planned this?”

Aarons beamed. “This was Howard’s idea. I just did like he taught me. He said there was a greater than zero chance the local police would figure out this building was your headquarters. He also worried they would try sending a S.W.A.T. team to decapitate your operation here in the city. He set up this floor to cut all power to the lighting as well as bathe it in a low dose of infrared light so his team could see the enemy. It was a trap sprung to perfection.” Aarons kicked one of the dead policemen.

Petteri experienced a mix of emotions. There was the huge hole created by the loss of his number two, Howard. The guy had planned for everything. He was happy to see Aarons carrying on Howard’s tradition. Obviously, he was pleased to have survived the attack. However, he couldn’t go to war with the mayor of a city. It would set a bad trend.

“What do we do next?” he asked his security chief. Petteri decided he had to trust him.

“Sir, I think we’re safe for the time being. The streets outside are still chaotic. They probably struggled to put together this breach team. You can carry out your business tonight. However, once the sun rises on the streets, we’ll have to reevaluate.”

“Do you think it would help if I called the mayor?” He wanted to chew her a new one, but also to prove the attack had failed.

Aarons shrugged. “You’re in charge of politics. I wouldn’t tell her about this.” He pointed to the men on the floor.

Petteri tapped Dorothy on the shoulder. She remained on the floor, crouched with her head between her legs as if prepared for a tornado, rather than bullets. The dark-haired woman looked up with wet cheeks. “Are we safe?”

He smiled. “Stick with me. No one is going to hurt you.”

She reached for his hand, hesitating for a second, then relenting. “Thanks.”

Petteri basked in the glory of being a hero.

CHAPTER 17

Somewhere in Central Wyoming

“What happened?” Grace asked as she ran up to Shawn Runs Hard, Logan, and Diedre.

Logan spoke first. “My dad heard the chopper coming. Made us jump off the side of the train. It was pretty sweet.”

His father was more tempered. “How did the others fare? It looked terrible.”

Asher hugged his sister, leaving her to answer. “I know one of the engineers was killed. I’m not sure about the others. I think a few were injured.” She turned around. “The wooden car is burning.”

“Do they have any way to put it out?” the Crow leader pressed.

“I don’t know. Robert is in the engine. I’m sure he sees the fire, but he isn’t doing anything about it. If anyone would know where to get fire suppression equipment, it would be him.” She absently glanced toward the horizon. The storm she’d seen before sunset was out there somewhere. If only it were over them. As it was, the fire was too big to use shirts to pat it out.

“So, the train gets smaller,” Shawn said sadly.

They walked back to the others, who now sat farther from the edge of the railroad grade. The fire had spread throughout the boxcar, and the intense blaze burned fast. The survivors were forced to go deep into the grass to avoid the heat.

Robert appeared at the rear door of the engine compartment. “I’ve unhooked from the cars. I’m going to move up the line a little.”

Grace waved at him.

As the engine powered up and rolled away from the fire, she took a moment to scan the flat plains around them. The helicopter was nowhere to be seen, but there were a lot of cars on the nearby highway, as if the lead portion of a city’s rush hour were coming at them.

“What do you make of that?” she asked whoever was around her.

Logan stood up. “It looks like a race. Is there anything of value around here?”

She thought immediately of the rock south of Yellowstone. The cars were heading west, which was the same way they were aimed. It was possible they were all going there, too. Or, perhaps they were getting away from somewhere else.

“I think it’s nothing we have to worry about,” she said, trying to sound confident.

A couple of minutes went by, but the cars were still there. To her eyes, it appeared as if they’d stopped, rather than being a slow-moving line. As she took more time to watch, she became convinced of it. “Maybe it’s the police come to check on reports of a truck being fire-bombed by a crazy helicopter on the interstate?”

An engine’s whine surprised her. A truck appeared fifty yards away. It was coming at them from the direction of the highway. It had its lights off, suggesting it was trying to be sneaky.

“Watch this truck!” she shouted to her friends.

Logan picked up his rifle.

Asher let go of Diedre and did the same.

“Wait a second,” Shawn insisted. “I think I recognize that motor. It’s a Windsor seven-and-a-half liter V8 pushing two hundred forty-five horsepower. I’d recognize it anywhere.”

“Really?” she said, shocked.

He listened for a few more seconds as the truck got closer. There didn’t seem to be anything distinctive about it, but Shawn chuffed as if he’d solved a riddle. “It’s my brother-in-law’s ’85 F-150. He talks up the specs of that old piece of junk every chance he gets.”

“Calvin Tames Horse?” she asked, remembering the man’s distinctive name. He’d been the mechanic who’d gotten her truck running properly. He’d also put the wooden barricade in the back seat, welded on her rear door, and replaced some window glass. As much as anyone, he’d made the rest of her trip possible.

“The one and only,” Shawn said, puffing out his chest.

A white pickup truck came out of the darkness. She recognized it as the one Logan had used to drive her and Asher to the small piece of asteroid which had fallen on Crow lands.

Logan and Shawn both waved. The driver put on his parking lights, illuminating the men. When he had parked, the skinny driver leaned out his window. “Logan? You there?”

“I’m here,” the boy replied.

Cal hopped out, obviously happy and excited. “I can’t believe we found you.”

Logan ran over and hugged his uncle. “How the heck did you do it? We’re in the middle of nowhere right now.”

When they separated, the skinny uncle came over to Shawn, who hadn’t moved. “His mother is with us.”

Shawn held out his hand and shook with his brother-in-law.

Calvin continued. “She’s not happy at what you’ve gotten her son into.”

The Crow leader maintained his poise. “I’ll have to explain it to her. Things are more serious than any of you know. Who else is here? I need to tell you all what is coming our way.” He leaned to see around Calvin, expecting someone to be in the truck with him.

Calvin pointed back toward the highway. “I brought the whole tribe.”

Grace whistled in amazement. “All those lights are with you?” The traffic jam remained where it was. She assumed they were lined up for miles along the shoulder of the interstate.

“Everyone who can carry a rifle. When the chairmen requests your presence, you mount your ride and hit the trail. We’re here to help.”

They spoke with Calvin for several minutes about the logistics of getting the bulk of the tribe together. In return, Shawn explained their situation on the rails. The burning boxcar provided the backdrop for the danger still remaining above them.

“It’s clear what we need to do,” Shawn finally said.

She’d been thinking about their fortunes over the last few hours. Nerio could fly around without a care in the world, save for one unwieldy anti-tank gun which seemed to do little more than scare her away for a short time. What they needed was a more permanent way to take her out of commission.

Grace looked to the engine glimmering in the darkness.

Without thinking, she spoke aloud. “We need to use the engine as a trap.”

The Crow leader became silent.

She turned to him, realizing she’d stepped on his presentation. “Oh, sorry. I was just—”

He waved her off with good humor. “It’s all right. I was about to say that very thing. The only way to end this is to trick her into committing to the wrong target. She has no idea who we have on our side now.” He shifted on his bad leg to look toward the highway. “My people.”

Kansas City, MO

Ezra brought Susan’s Grace around the bend in the river, but the scene ahead looked like they’d driven into the core of a nuclear reactor. A black orb was half-submerged in the middle of a giant lake. The black waters contrasted with the inferno of lights being held above the rock by cranes sitting on flat barges. Other watercraft hovered near the edge of the rock, as if eating away at the core.

“It’s the asteroid fragment. It came down right next to downtown.” Ezra pointed toward the skeletal remains of the tall skyscrapers sitting on a hillside to the south.

“What are they doing there?” Haley asked, still sitting low in the boat.

“Mining,” he said automatically. There was no other reasonable explanation for the operation. A recovery effort would be focused on all those people on the shore, not the cause of the disaster. It was a mining company, and almost certainly it was TKM. Thinking the name, he turned the boat away from the center point on the lake.

“Is that why everyone was shooting at us?” Haley asked.

“I don’t know,” Ezra replied. “If they really thought we were with TKM, then I suppose they figured we were with these miners. Lucky for us. I’d be pissed too, if someone came to my town and started extracting ore while I was stuck in a tent.” He looked over his shoulder, to make sure the light show and gun attacks were over. While there were still a few pops of fireworks taking place, he was no longer able to see more than their tops.

The dark blotch of the lake piqued his curiosity as he sped toward the fallen piece of space rock. The shorelines were about a mile north to south, giving him plenty of room to skirt around the recovery zone. However, there was so much light glaring off the dig site, his boat was impossible to miss.

A guy on a crane leveled his rifle and fired.

“Down!” he ordered.

Other shooters immediately joined in, no doubt expecting trouble after such an extended and deafening warning from down the river.

Three or four pings struck against the hull of the boat. Unlike the citizens on the shoreline, the men in the mining camp seemed qualified to hit moving targets. He imagined more of the TKM goons who’d been following them on the bridges. Did they call ahead, after all? Or was he simply another enemy to be shot on sight for daring to get close to their treasure?

He swerved, starting evasive maneuvers.

“You guys really pissed off the gods, didn’t you?” Haley asked from her hiding spot.

“I swear we didn’t try!” he replied, ducking as more shots came out of the night.

“Do we shoot back?” Butch asked, rifle already in hand.

He’d hesitated shooting into a crowd of innocent people, but these guys weren’t innocent. It seemed not only justified, but appropriate. “Let ’er rip!”

The boat skimmed over the calm waters of the lake, giving Butch and Haley the chance to situate themselves along the right side of the railing. The veteran fighter helped Haley line up her shots, then they both opened fire.

“Shoot for the guys on the cranes!” Butch ordered.

For the next thirty seconds, Ezra held his breath. The outboard was cranked all the way to maximum, spitting out three hundred fifty-horsepower, giving him at least fifty miles an hour. They made their way around the excavation. A dozen empty barges were moored upriver from the site, giving a hint at how much they intended to harvest.

A bullet snapped off the engine housing, then five or six spurts of water erupted a short way off his starboard side. There was no hiding in darkness. No swerving necessary. At that moment, going around the rock, Susan’s Grace presented a juicy profile to the attackers. It was the most vulnerable point in their escape.

Another bullet cracked into the engine, causing it to spurt and sputter for a few seconds before going back to normal.

“Thank God,” he said to himself.

Butch and Haley poured on return fire, but it was futile. They could only aim for sparks of light where they thought the shooters were perched. None of them stood in plain sight. As best he could tell, none of them fell to their deaths like in the movies. Still, it was a comforting sight to watch his friends fight back.

If they were on a clock, and the rock was the center point of the lake, he figured they’d made it to about the ten o’clock position before the engine sputtered again. The boat lurched forward as if the prop stopped spinning for a few seconds. Then it restarted.

“Uh, we’ve got issues,” he said, his voice steeped in fear. If they stopped for good in the middle of the lake, they’d be in worse shape than sitting ducks. They’d be sitting ducks with huge spotlights pointed at them. “Come on,” he coaxed his boat.

The motor resumed its powerful thrust, giving him hope they were going to make it. They creeped toward the eleven o’clock position, putting a little added distance between them and the shooters. However, another couple of rounds rattled the pontoons, then cracked into the plastic housing of the motor. A shower of sparks made him crumple into his seat.

“Dang!” he blurted.

The motor stopped abruptly. The boat immediately lost its momentum, stopping completely after a few dozen yards. They were at the edge of the lighted shooting gallery but were upriver. If they floated free, they’d go back toward the mining equipment. “I think we have to get off the boat,” he said evenly.

More rounds came in. His nightmare about being an easy target was coming to life as he sat in his comfy seat looking at the broken depth finder.

“Uh, what?” Butch asked with fear in his voice.

Ezra scooted off his chair and scampered over to Haley. “Butch can’t swim. You have to help him.” As an afterthought, he asked her a follow up question. “You can swim, right?”

“Of course. But he’s twice my size. It might take some time.”

Butch looked back toward the motor. “You want to try the engine again? Maybe it’s still working…”

“It’s not,” he snapped. “We’ve joked about it, but this time you really have to jump.”

He gathered his rifle, as well as his backpack. He also yanked Butch’s rifle out of his hands. “I’ll get this to shore for you. Right now, I need you to go with Haley.”

“In the water?” the big man asked, dubious of the answer.

“Yes. Get in the damned water!” There wasn’t a chance he could push the giant of a man over the side, so he hoped he’d go on his own. Haley seemed to see the problem, so she talked with a lot more calm than Ezra.

“Come on, my tall, cool, glass of milk. I’ll be with you the whole time.”

Butch’s chest heaved as if his lungs were full of nothing but fear. But he let Haley lead him toward the front of the boat. Since there was no way to prevent Susan’s Grace from turning in the slow current, he had to accept the front was swinging toward shore, which was good, but it would soon swing all the way around, which would be bad.

“Come on,” Ezra said under his breath. He didn’t want to be the first one in. It wasn’t because a captain was supposed to go down with his ship; he needed to make sure everyone was off before he abandoned it.

As he sat there praying for Haley to get Butch over the side, he noticed a distinct tilt. One of the pontoons must have taken a lot of hits. Or his epoxy seals had broken.

There was now no question Butch was going to get in the water.

Susan’s Grace was sinking.

CHAPTER 18

Somewhere in Central Wyoming

After Cal made sure there were no major threats at the site of the train attack, he gave the all clear for several more vehicles to leave the highway and come out onto the plains near the tracks. Logan and Shawn both became animated when a big red SUV pulled up.

“It’s my mother,” Logan said to Grace on the sly.

“Is it a good or bad thing?” she asked with equal confidentiality.

“This time, it’s good. I would have gotten in trouble if she’d been the one there when I got back from Billings with you. Now, it’ll be my dad who’s in the hot seat.” The boy snickered.

Several women climbed out of the SUV. They were all dressed in jeans, colorful long-sleeved shirts, and had their hair braided and in headbands. At first glance, they were dressed to work on a farm. Which, as she thought about it, made sense for where they were.

“Logan?” a woman called out.

The boy walked over to her. Instead of taking him in a hug, as Grace expected, the woman grabbed both his shoulders and looked him in the eyes. “What has your father gotten you into? He said to bring everyone I could, so I did. But I didn’t expect you to be involved with this.” She pointed to the burning boxcar a short way down the tracks.

“Ka-hay, Mother. Hello. Don’t worry. Dad has been keeping me safe.”

Grace knew it was an exaggeration beyond comprehension. No mother would want to hear her son and husband had been shot at multiple times over the past several days. She wondered how much Logan’s father had told her.

“I’ll be the judge of that.” She tried to let her boy go, but he held on.

“Wait. How did you find us here?”

The woman was very pretty, even in the low light. She was tall, like her son, and carried herself with poise. However, when Logan asked the question, her shoulders slumped in the same motherly way her own mom’s had when asked a silly question.

“The entire state saw your fancy light shows. The CB chatter about it has been nonstop. The real question you should be asking is who doesn’t know you’re here.” She finally separated herself from Logan and walked the short way to her husband.

“And what’s your story?” she asked without preamble. “Why are you taking my son into a war?”

Shawn Runs Hard held up his hands in mock surrender. “I can explain everything. I promise. I—”

“You’ve been hurt,” his wife added, softening her tone. “Are you all right?” She closed the last few feet and hugged him.

“It’s only a little leg wound. I’ll be fine.”

They separated enough to see each other’s faces. She touched his cheek. “I brought the cavalry, as you requested.”

Shawn smiled at her, then seemed to notice Grace gawking. He alternated between her and his wife. “Grace, this is my wife, Tyressa Runs Hard.”

The woman seemed to look over Grace’s park ranger outfit, noting Asher wore the same style. “Nice to meet you. You two are government officials?”

“Well, yes,” she agreed.

“Can’t you get us any help? Why is it my husband had to call my people halfway across the state of Wyoming, when you could call the governor, or the president?”

She chuckled. “It doesn’t really work that way. I haven’t even been in touch with my immediate supervisor back in Yellowstone. I don’t know if any of them are alive.”

Tyressa thought it over, then relented. “I like to be the other half of Mr. Runs Hard’s brain. I’m sure he’s probably asked you the same question.”

Grace was caught off guard. “I can’t remember…”

The woman laughed it off. “I’m not trying to fly a bird in your tent. I only want to know what’s been shared between you, so I don’t waste your time. My husband said there are many threats out in the wild, including the mining company who tried to come onto our lands.”

She nodded. “Right. We’re running from them. We’re also, uh, considering chasing them. We’re heading for their dig site to try to secure the wealth for your people.”

“My people?” she said with surprise, turning her gaze back to her husband. “This is about money? You endangered my boy for nothing more important than money?”

Grace felt a little sorry for the man as he became embroiled in explaining what he’d been doing the past several days. She moved closer to Asher and his sister, intent on letting the Crow woman interrogate her men.

To her surprise, a glimmer of morning appeared on the eastern horizon.

There was finally a new day with some hope. Assuming Shawn Runs Hard could get them to stay, they now had an entire tribe in their corner. There would, at the very least, be safety in numbers.

She was part of a pack.

Kansas City, MO

Haley was already in the water, treading to stay next to the pontoons and hiding from the lights and shooters at the asteroid fragment. Left with no choice, Butch put on his bravest face and threw himself over the edge of Susan’s Grace. After a brief but intensely uncoordinated arm thrashing, Butch let himself settle into Haley’s grip. “Just kick your feet, okay?” she said calmly.

“I’ll try,” he replied, spitting out water.

The boat was listing to the right, making it harder to climb out the left side. Ezra secured the guns, and his backpack, but he ditched all the hard-earned treasure they’d gotten from Bass Pro. He lamented they hadn’t even been able to properly use the expensive camp tents before losing them.

He slipped into the water, not far behind Butch.

“Paddle!” he insisted.

The current was relaxed on the lake, but it was flowing a little. They used the boat to shield them from the workers, which required them to swim faster before the boat got too far away. Thankfully, most of the shooting had stopped, probably because it was clear the boat was out of commission. He absently noted to himself the men weren’t killing them for sport…

Don’t jinx it.

Ahead, Haley had helped Butch shift, so he was on his back. She held him under the shoulders, in the classic pose of a lifeguard rescuing a lost swimmer. It was touching to see her take such good care of his friend.

They were ashore in minutes. As he clambered onto the rocks, he experienced a flashback to doing the same thing on that first night at Kentucky Lake. He’d left Susan in the water to go rescue his guns from the fire eating away his house. As he pulled off those same two guns, he realized they, not his boat, were the last two links to the love of his life. He set them gently on the rocks, then helped Butch come ashore.

“Do you know how to swim now?” he joked to the big guy.

Butch could have been a wet cat for how miserable he appeared. “I had a great teacher. She talked me through it. However, I’d just as soon never do that again.”

“Aww,” Haley complained in a mocking voice, “I thought we connected out in the water.”

Butch froze. “No, I didn’t mean—”

“Relax,” she chided, “I’m only playing with you. You didn’t freak out. There’s nothing more important when helping a swimmer.” She leaned over and used her hands to wring out her long hair. “I did four summers at the local pool. I’ve seen it all.”

“I bet,” Ezra replied.

“Let’s get farther inland,” Butch added, slipping a little on the wet rocks.

They walked up a gentle hill for a few minutes before finding a place to catch their breath. A line of skyscrapers stood at the top, as if they’d once stood vigil over the flowing Missouri River. Now, they looked out over the black lake.

“What do you say we go up there?” Ezra pointed to the first building. It was about twenty stories tall and appeared to be missing most of the glass along its face. The light of the dig site behind them reflected off its few remaining windowpanes.

They’d gone to the third floor before Ezra declared they’d climbed high enough. He pushed through the fire door of the stairwell, taking them into a vacant office space. “I was hoping to see my boat before it went under. I’m sure it’s gone.”

“Lead on,” Butch said, holding the door for him and Haley.

He sat next to an open window, careful not to fall out. When he searched for his boat, it was nowhere to be seen.

“It must have floated away,” he commented, wondering if it was really going to sink after all.

From their vantage point at the edge of the lake and thirty feet up, they had a commanding view. The half-submerged rock seemed to be a hive of activity relative to the rest of the city. The spotlights on the cranes and on the towboats hovering near the rock were dialed up to eleven. Giant hydraulic jackhammers cracked into the rock from their spots on flat-bottomed boats. The split ore fell into open-topped barges moored up against the round island.

“They’ve got their model of efficiency going.” Ezra admired how the company set things up, though he was seriously considering using his new position to fire rounds on them. The rest of the city was cast in total darkness, as if the power had been knocked out. There would be no way for them to see where he was. But firing from such a distance would only antagonize them for no good reason. The smart play was to focus on their own issues. “Let’s rest here until sunrise,” he suggested.

“That won’t be long,” Butch replied, sounding more like himself.

Ezra didn’t mind. “I don’t know about you guys, but I need a few minutes of rest. This has been one of the craziest nights of my life, and I’m including the one where an asteroid shockwave blew my boat onto dry land.”

The youngsters understood what he wanted.

Ezra curled up in a corner, silently saying goodbye to his beloved boat. It felt as if one more piece of his life had died, and he needed time to process the loss. He couldn’t tell if it was moments or minutes later, but the first ray of sunshine soon appeared in the window. Even grieving needed to be cut short in the new reality.

Denver, CO

Petteri watched the sun come up from the tenth floor of his temporary headquarters in Denver. He pined for the warm tropical safety on Isla Soccoro. Armed shooters would have a hard time reaching the island, then they’d have to deal with his Mexican navy commandos working as guards. Still, he was glad Mr. Aarons came through for him.

The situation outside wasn’t to his satisfaction, however. When the light of the new day reached into the canyons of Lodo, he’d expected to see his dig site running at full tilt. At the moment, there were no trucks loading ore. Several piles had been placed next to the rock, ready to go, but the dump trucks were gone.

He picked up the phone and dialed his dig supervisor.

“Hello? Cassens, here.”

“Cassens? This is Tikkanen. I’m looking at your operation from up here. Where the hell are my trucks?”

The man cleared his throat. “We’ve been trying to get them back all night. Some of them were commandeered on the outskirts of the city. It scared off most of our drivers. Uh, but not all of them. Small groups have made it through. They have armed men riding with them.”

Petteri wasn’t surprised by the news. He’d asked his men to perform miracles in a city about to crush them. The guns had come out on the streets, giving his people some extra breathing room. But the noose was tightening around him. The mayor had even sent her hit squad after him. Maybe she wanted to put a stop to his men shooting up the town from their dump trucks.

He chuckled at how everything spun round and round in their little battlespace.

“Sir? Is there anything I can do for you?”

“Yes,” he said curtly. “Tell your dump truck drivers to get one more load if they can. Let them know they can split half of what they carry with anyone willing to protect it through enemy territory.”

“Wow,” Cassens let out.

“Indeed. Now listen. For everyone else, I want them heading to the dig site south of Yellowstone.” He glanced at the paperwork on his desk. It showed the nearest train route, which was about fifty miles south of the fallen piece. “We’re going to bring in hopper cars and consume every ounce of ore before anyone else gets to it.”

“We’re giving up on this one?” Cassens lamented.

“No, of course not,” he exaggerated. Fear would spread like a disease among those remaining on the streets if they knew his true intentions. “We’re going to do the same thing here in Denver. The train tracks are a few blocks over. We’re going to set up a short relay with the dump trucks left in our possession. I need you to give me the time to set it up.”

“Ah, very good, sir. I’ll make sure my guys know about it.”

He hung up the phone, wondering if he really could pull it off. It had been an idle boast designed to drag things out with his men, but the train line wasn’t far from the rock on the street. If he could pull it off, it could be worth hundreds of millions of dollars. The threats presented by the city were numerous, but the new day presented new opportunities for building his company’s wealth.

Petteri got his secretary on the phone. “Get me the heads of the three largest rail companies. I’ve got an offer they won’t want to pass up.” He’d already had TKM swoop up all the contract freight cars for a thousand miles, but he needed more than those machines. He needed the manpower.

“I’m not done with Denver just yet,” he said to the window.

CHAPTER 19

Rawlins, WY

Tyressa was a strong-willed woman who seemed to carry sway over her wounded husband. She ordered him into her brother’s truck, along with her son, who fought hard to stay with Grace and the train. In the end, the matriarch won all the arguments and the two men drove away while under her watchful eyes.

The Crow caravan planned to travel ahead on the interstate, while she, Asher, and Misha continued to shadow the train engine. The decision to keep possession of the engine was part of their plan to draw Nerio into a trap. It was also pivotal to bringing back ore for the Crow nation. Robert assured them they could pick up new hopper cars in the towns ahead, and he’d been right. They’d made it to the little town of Rawlins, Wyoming, where a train yard contained hundreds of them.

Grace had parked near a Walmart while waiting for the engine to arrive. The coating of dust from the black snow and rain covered many of the cars and most of the buildings. They hadn’t seen it as much in Cheyenne and Denver; those cities were too far east of the fires and debris thrown into the skies above Yellowstone. It signaled they were getting closer the source. “Want anything from the Supercenter?” she joked with Asher.

“Does Supercenter sell rounds for my big-ass gun?” Misha asked from the back seat.

She and Asher shared a confused look.

“I have no idea,” she finally said.

“They sell guns, I know that,” Asher added.

“We should stop and get some more,” the Russian countered.

Asher laughed. “How many guns do you need?”

“In Russia, I would say all of them. All guns. Here, in America, I also want all of them. Can never have too many guns.”

It was Grace’s turn to chuckle. “You’d fit right in on my street back home in Kentucky.” She also turned serious. “But no, we can’t go shopping. We have to watch Robert bring the engine through town. That’s our job right now.”

Misha almost sounded pouty. “Fine.”

After a period of silence, Asher spoke up. “How about Logan’s mom? Talk about a scary mother. She’s like the First Lady of the Crow Nation. It’s got to be a trip.”

“I liked her,” Grace said. “I can see why she and Shawn found each other. They’re both cut from the same cloth.”

Misha became interested. “What does this mean? How are they cut?”

She snorted. “No, it means they’re the same in how they act. They shared the same life experiences.” Before she knew it was happening, she dwelled for a bit on her own family. Her parents each had their strengths and weakness, though Mom seemed to have more issues than Dad. She was the worrier. Dad was the doer. No one would have ever said they were cut from the same cloth.

“You all right?” Asher said, tapping her elbow.

She snapped to attention. “The train is coming.”

Everyone watched as the orange engine arrived at the train yard. Robert went the quarter of a mile to the opposite end before stopping. She put the truck in gear, then drove off the highway and into the railyard. There were no fences or trees, and most of the land was flat, making such maneuvers possible. Trees and houses of the town lined the sides of the long switching yard, but there were few people around.

Grace parked the truck on a service road next to the yard. The three of them gathered their rifles, she and Asher put on their hats, and then they walked together over several empty sets of tracks until they reached Robert. He was messing with a switch to get a junction to change.

“Do they let you do that?” she asked, looking around the train yard.

“Sure,” Robert replied. “These remote yards don’t have the manpower to micromanage everyone. They assume we engineers know what we’re doing.” He looked around with concern, as if maybe he didn’t believe what he was saying.

They watched as Robert got the tracks changed, moved his engine in reverse, then linked up with a row of about ten coal hoppers. The man was obviously an expert at what he did.

A horn signaled the arrival of another train from the east.

“We have company,” Robert called out from his position behind the engine.

“Do you need any help?” she asked. They remained next to the switching boxes at the track junction, but she had no clue what anything did.

“No, I’m good. We’ll be up and rolling by the time the traffic goes by.”

She and Asher stood closer to Robert’s engine. The arriving train grew louder, a deep resonance echoing in her chest. Whatever it was, it sounded powerful.

Robert joined them. “It’s a big one. Multiple engines.”

“How can you tell?” she asked.

He shrugged. “It’s an acquired skill.”

Many of the adjacent residential backyards were lined by tall wooden privacy fences, as if they didn’t want to see the train yard, but one only had a low chain-link fence. Three little kids stood up against the barrier as horns blared, announcing the train’s entrance to the yard.

“She’s not stopping,” Robert called out over the growing excitement and noise.

He wasn’t lying. There were more than a few engines at the front, each pumping horsepower down to the tracks. However, there were two extra cars at the head of the train, in front of all the engines.

“They ran into our lost cars,” Grace said with amazement. The boxcar was at the very front, burned down to its metal frame, but still rolling along. The flatcar was behind it. Both were pushed by the first engine in the line, suggesting the train wasn’t stopping for anything.

The engineer sat on the horn as the two cars and the front engine whizzed by Grace and the others. She imagined he’d done it to be a jerk, or to warn people up ahead, but she saw the kids jumping for joy in the gaps between the cars. The engineer blew the ungodly loud airhorns for the youngsters.

There were eight engines daisy-chained together at the front of a long procession of uniform-colored coal hoppers. Each car seemed to rattle and squeak as they rolled by. The thunderous shaking had to be rattling walls in the houses set next to the tracks. There was no way she’d consider living so close to a rail line, though she’d never thought about it until that moment.

“How long is this thing?” she asked the wind.

It went on and on. She figured there were hundreds of cars. At some point as she watched, Robert came over and tapped her on the shoulder. “I’m ready when you are!”

She flashed the thumbs-up sign. As soon as the train cleared out, she would cross the tracks to get back to the truck. They’d be on their way again.

However, the train wouldn’t end.

To her imagination, it took an hour for the train to travel through the town. When she finally saw a flash of red and orange signifying more engines, she figured the end was near. “Jeez, five more engines!” she shouted to Asher as the noisy diesels approached.

As before, the engineers up in the cabins must have noticed the children. The horns went off for a good ten seconds right as it passed Grace and her friends.  She had to cover her ears.

The powerful motors shook the rocks beneath her feet. When the last one rumbled through, she confirmed those children were there, still cranking their arms up and down to get the engineer to let go of one more horn blast.

However, her attention went to a strange person standing by a tree next to the children’s house. A dark-haired woman had something black and shiny sitting on a low branch. It took Grace a couple of seconds to recognize the threat and decide what to do. Asher and Misha waved to the children, thinking they were waving at them. Unaware of what was coming.

She launched herself at the pair.

“Down!”

Kansas City, MO

“Sorry about your boat, E-Z,” Butch said, once he was sure he was awake.

“Don’t worry about it. I’m glad we got off before it sank. Thanks belong to Haley for being your swimming instructor.” He looked over to the young woman. She was sitting up against a wall on the far side of Butch. Awake. Her tight-fitting stretch pants and shirt were dry, meaning they’d been in the building for a few hours, at least.

She smiled at them both.

He continued. “I’ll get over losing Susan’s Grace. Honestly, it would probably have been better to ditch her before we tangled too hard with those TKM shooters on the bridge. It was needlessly risky for me to get in a shootout with five men.” He wasn’t sure if he’d ever let go of the images swirling in his mind. Shooting those men had been necessary, especially handlebar mustache guy in the truck, but he didn’t have to enjoy it. The truth was he’d been willing to take too many risks with their lives for the sake of the boat.

A rifle shot echoed in the morning air.

“What was that?” Haley asked, sitting up.

“Dunno,” he replied, shifting so he could look out the broken window. There was nothing left in the interior of the office; it hadn’t been as obvious when they’d arrived in the dark. Now, in the morning light, it appeared as if the rock had come down in the river, splashing water or blowing air into the skyscrapers of downtown. The burst of energy pushed everything inside the building toward and out the south-side windows.

“Well, hell’s bells,” he said to himself, getting a look at the scene outside.

The people who’d lined the shores around the bend had come upriver overnight. There were hundreds of them on the bank of the lake, many with weapons. After the first person shot at the rock in the middle of the lake, it seemed to signal others to do the same. In seconds, it looked like a civil war battlefield.

Fireworks guys were out there, too, launching them on a dry slab of concrete at the water’s edge. The shots weren’t as impressive in daylight, but the shooters’ aim was more exact. The big mortar rounds thumped on the shore, then exploded on or above the mining operation.

The TKM miners didn’t shoot back, as best he could tell. Men scrambled down from the tops of cranes, hopped inside the thick-hulled barges for cover, or got inside the captain’s perches of towboats. As Ezra knew from his own experience, there was no fighting back against a raging mob of thousands of citizens.

In minutes, the towboats shucked off their ropes and departed from the unnatural island. The men hiding in the hulls of the cargo haulers made desperate runs to catch them before they left, or they dove overboard to try to swim for it. All the while, bullets plinked around them.

A few were struck and killed.

Others were injured.

“I guess the people of Kansas City have been planning this attack for a while,” Ezra remarked, as if watching a dull stretch of a baseball game.

“Does no one like TKM?” Haley asked seriously.

Butch made a pfft sound with his mouth. “They go around shooting up towns and looting stores. They probably wanted to take all this ore without giving any of it to the people who lost their homes. I bet the same thing is happening back in Paducah.”

Ezra dipped his head, afraid someone in the crowd might have spotted him. “Are you saying you want to go back home and liberate our own asteroid piece?”

“If it would make me rich, sure. Why not?”

Haley perked up. “You think we could get rich?”

Butch nodded. “Why else would they be mining it? Wasn’t that the whole point of bringing in asteroids from deep space, or wherever they got it from?”

For a few moments, Ezra worried the kids would run down the steps and join the crowd.

“Hey, look! It’s your freaking boat!” Butch pointed to the lake.

“Sure is,” he said sadly. Susan’s Grace had been salvaged by the people on the shore. He thought it was still leaning to one side, but it could have been a result of all the people on the deck. Fifteen of them stood and sat wherever they could. The engine was working again, too. The boat moved slowly out toward the abandoned rock.

“Double sorry,” Butch added. “It wasn’t going to sink after all.”

“No, but there was something wrong with the motor when we were out there. I know that for a fact. If I’d had time, and wasn’t getting shot at by those men, I might have fixed it, too.” They watched as the boat inched closer to the black orb half-submerged in the water. From their vantage point, the asteroid piece was at least a quarter of a mile away. His double-pontoon boat seemed like a tiny pebble floating next to the giant orange barges left moored around the boulder.

“Well, I guess I’m glad the boat isn’t lost, after all. Maybe when this is all over, I can come back and lay claim to it.”

“I’ll come with—” Butch began.

He was interrupted by a cracking boom from out at the dig site. The top half of the rounded island disintegrated in an instant, sending rock fragments in all directions, like one of the massive incendiary fireworks they’d been setting off. Instead of harmless flames, it sent pieces of rock into the air.

“Oh my God,” Haley gasped.

Susan’s Grace had been too close. The pieces of rock splashed on top of it, sending it and all its passengers directly to the bottom. The big barges also went down in tremendous splashes.

Debris skipped over the water like a thousand Frisbees tossed at the crowd.

Some pieces were higher in the sky, arcing his way as if fired by giant catapults.

Belatedly, he realized they were in serious danger.

CHAPTER 20

Rawlins, WY

Grace shoved the two men as the bullet cut through the air inches above her head. It clanged off a rail car behind them.

Asher fell flat on his face, losing his hat, but Misha rolled with the shove, putting himself behind the equipment box at the junction of the tracks. Once she saw the logic of it, she yanked on Asher’s collar to drag him over.

Another bullet cracked off a metal bar ten feet from their hiding spot.

She listened as the kids in the yard screamed and ran. When the air settled, Misha’s radio came to life. It was still on from when he’d communicated with Robert.

“Hiya, friends,” Nerio laughed. “I guess I need some new tricks. Your gal pal saw me before I could open up that Russian brain of yours.”

Misha nodded grimly to Grace. “Spesseeba. Thank you.”

“Don’t mention it. Now you have to get us out of this.” She laughed nervously.

Nerio continued. “This is where it ends. You’re getting too close to the train depot at Green River. I know you’re going to the dig site with your native allies. I can’t allow that. This was supposed to be a fun diversion for me as I cleaned up messes for Petteri Tikkanen.”

Misha glanced between her and Asher. “Did you tell your friends to come back and help us if we called for them?”

She pulled out her phone, surprised she hadn’t thought of it immediately. When she turned it on, it immediately meowed at her; her voicemail system was telling her a message was waiting.

Misha gave her and her cat ringtone a sideways glance, which she ignored.

The call was from the same number as before. Assuming it was her dad, she swiped to covertly listen to it. “Hi, honey. I got your voice message. I won’t go into Denver. We’re on the river, though, heading west. I’ll try to get to where you said. TKM has been after us. They almost killed me.” He sounded shaken. “I have to go. I love you.” He hung up without clapping, which could only mean he was in a tough spot.

“Grace?” the Russian complained.

“I’m calling now!” she responded.

Shawn had given her his number, so it was in her phone ready to go. However, the call went directly to his voicemail, suggesting he was out of cellular range. She hung up, knowing there was no point in leaving a message asking for rescue.

“We’re on our own,” she advised.

Misha fidgeted with the TKM rifle they’d liberated from Denver. “This is cheap Chinese garbage. I need proper Kalishnikov.”

“Can you fire it?” she asked, halfway tempted to yank it out of his hands and shoot it herself.

“Of course. I simply wish for better.” He sat up on one knee, aimed toward the base of the tree, and fired a few rounds. The loud bangs forced Grace to protect her ears.

Misha ducked down as return shots came at them.

“They are both there,” the hitman said dryly. He picked up the radio. “Where is fancy helicopter? You are both on ground.”

Nerio laughed in a carefree manner. “Oh, this is rich. We don’t need a helicopter or a machine gun when we have you in the open. One move from your hiding spot and you’re dead. Alejandro and I can wait. Your people aren’t around. If you try to run, I’ll simply use my little tool to track your radio signals.” She paused. “Oops,” she added, obviously playing with Misha.

Misha set the radio on the rocks, then stepped on it.

“Wait!” Grace yelled as he cracked it to bits. “How are we going to talk to them?”

“Safely,” he replied. He yelled over the top of the switching equipment. “You two will have to come and get us!”

Nerio yelled back, not upset in the least. “Maybe some of these children could persuade you? I’d hate for something to happen to one of them. You never know when the next train is going to come by.”

The distant horn of a train caught Grace’s attention. Was it the one that had gone through, or was it another coming from the east?

“She wouldn’t,” Asher exclaimed.

“Dang it,” she replied. “I bet she would.” She hoped the kids ran inside and told their parents about the gunfire, but no one had come out to see what was going on. As odd as it was to think it, she believed the train yard was normally a loud and chaotic place. Maybe no one would even realize those loud noises were gunshots.

The train horn seemed to get louder.

“We have to take action,” she said, aware it wasn’t a plan.

Kansas City, MO

“Up against the wall!” Ezra shouted.

He, Butch, and Haley scooted up to the outer wall of the building. The glass was already busted out, so he didn’t worry about being hit by flying shards, but he assumed they’d be hit in the back by the incoming rock if they tried to go deeper into the building. As long as the rocks didn’t break through the concrete…

Butch and Haley held hands during the two or three seconds before the rocks arrived. They came through the windows and hit the outside of the building, rising and falling in intensity as the pieces rained down. Some of them shot through the open window, skipping across the empty floor toward the far side. A few ricocheted off the edges, deflecting in odd directions, including a few small chunks that splattered over them.

Mercifully, the debris storm ended as quickly as it started. A few smaller chunks fell from the air or from upper floors, but soon it was over.

Haley shook pieces out of her hair.

“Dare we look up?” Ezra asked rhetorically. They peeked over the edge of the windowsill. He wanted to see what had happened, but he was terrified of what he was going to find.

“Oh man,” Butch whispered.

The top half of the rock was almost completely shredded.

“They must have blown it up rather than let the people have it,” he surmised, based on how events had played out. Which side was helped the most? It might have been his own arrival which got the ball rolling on the evacuation by the TKM miners. Or maybe he gave away the attack plan when the crowd on the shore was forced to fire at him. There was no way to ever know.

What he was certain of was the mining company had killed a lot of the men and women who’d been standing in the open at the edge of the lake. The rocks had struck anyone unlucky enough to be in their path. Looking down, he saw about half the people on the ground, and the other half warily crouched or kneeling next to their fallen friends.

“This is a war crime,” Butch said with rising anger. “We have to tell someone.”

Haley pulled out her phone, perhaps hoping to record what she could, but her face said otherwise. “It got wet. I think it’s toast.”

Selfishly, Ezra thought about how he wouldn’t be able to call Grace. A few seconds later, after hearing people cry three floors down, he got his head back in the moment. “We saw it. Those people saw it. We can back them up when it comes time to take those miners to the woodshed.”

“So, what do we do now?” Haley asked.

Without hesitation, Butch replied. “I say we blow up something of theirs. Preferably with a lot of their men standing around. In Iraq—”

Ezra interrupted before he got too far into it. “Right now, we have to get out of here. I wish we could help those people, but look at us. We have nothing. The only thing I can think about right now is getting to Grace. The people we’re dealing with, this TKM outfit, are not people to be trifled with. She warned me not to trust them. Boy was she right. But she’s tangled up with them, too. She’s going to one of the dig sites in Wyoming.”

Butch huffed. “Well, as long as I get to blow up their stuff at some point, I’m still with you, E-Z. You know that.”

“Me too,” Haley added. “I’m with your daughter. I don’t trust anyone working with TKM now.”

He sighed, knowing what he was asking of them. “All right. We’ll go down the steps and slip out the other side of the building. We’ll walk to the west and hope we can find an abandoned vehicle. Without my boat, we’re stuck depending on other transportation.”

The wailing from outside became louder.

“Now. We’ve got to move.” He hunched over and got away from the windows.

The others followed.

He desperately wanted to hear Grace’s voice.

Denver, CO

Each passing hour of the morning brought worse news for Petteri. When he received a call from his Kansas City team, he knew what was coming.

“Yes?” he said into the handset.

“Hello, sir. This is Clay Frontman with the Kansas City recovery team.”

“I know who you are. Tell me the news.”

The man hesitated. “Well, sir, we were attacked by tens of thousands of armed terrorists. They lined both sides of the river for miles around. They tried to send boats after us. We shot back, as you instructed, and I’m sure we put a dent in them, but there were too many.”

“How much of the rock did you get?” The Kansas City operation was one of his favorites. The rock had bounced in from a spot in nearby Kansas, settling into the mud of the Missouri River. Its impact created the lake, which was a stroke of luck as far as he was concerned. No other mining company had the resources to buy up shipping and dredging equipment and mine on the water. He figured they’d get the whole rock before anyone even knew what he was doing. But here he was, listening to another failure.

The man didn’t sound happy. “We got about thirty percent.”

It was more than he’d expected. Secretly, he was pleased at the efforts of the KC team, but he wasn’t going to say it. “And have you made plans for the other seventy percent?”

“That’s just it, sir. We’ve had to abandon it. The people came and tried to take it over.”

He sighed in disgust. It was happening everywhere. The PR efforts and charitable donations had only gone so far. As the nation became fixated on what his company was doing at those dig sites, it was harder to convince them he was doing anything but fleecing them. It was an eventuality he always assumed would arrive. But he’d convinced himself it would take a lot longer.

“Sir, there is, uh, one other thing.”

“Go ahead,” he said flatly.

“Some of the men took it personally when the threat of an attack became apparent. They wanted to show the Kansas City terrorists they would not be chased away without taking a toll on them.”

He wasn’t in the mood. “What did they do?”

“They used up all the mining charges in one big blast. We saw it. The explosion chopped off the top half of the rock and shotgunned it out into the crowds.”

“You killed them?” he said with shock. It wasn’t an act he necessarily disavowed. Deep inside, he was pleased his men took it to heart when the TKM brand was attacked. But in this instance, with all the other pieces of rock in similar degrees of jeopardy, he couldn’t condone the team’s action. Rather than yell or scream, he hung up the phone.

Shooting picked up outside his window.

He got up to take a look.

“This is not going to end well.” While he’d been distracted with other things, the war in the streets of Denver raged on. He admitted, after the fact, the sound of gunfire was a monotonous bore. It was only when he truly listened that he appreciated how close it had come. And none of his trucks were at the dig site. He suspected his dream of bringing in rail cars and ferrying dump truck loads back and forth was evaporating, too. A few men in blue fired their weapons, but they always ran backward, toward his building. Toward him.

He shuffled back to the desk and hefted the phone. He touched the button to call Mr. Aarons.

“Sir?”

“Where’s my helicopter? I’m leaving.”

“I can have it here in ten minutes. It’s on station at a secure location.”

He was pleased at least one thing was being done correctly. “Gather my computer, the server drives, and my assistant Dorothy. I want everything on the roof by the time our ride gets here. You and two of your men are coming with me. Get as many of the rest of them out of Denver and up north to Yellowstone.”

“Sir? Did you say Yellowstone?”

“Yes. The TKM dig site by Yellowstone. It’s going to be my new base of operations.”

“Understood,” Aarons said, a second before Petteri hung up.

He’d have to put out a press release saying he had no idea his people were going to blow up the rock in Kansas City. He’d offer the standard help, recovery efforts, whatever. If he did nothing, it would stir up local mayors and governors to rally against him. Far from being an act of defiance against the terrorist hordes, it would become a rallying cry against him and his company. It might already be too late to head it off.

That being said, he looked down on the partially reduced ball of ore sitting in the street with a new perspective. He wondered if he should ask Mr. Aarons to dedicate a team to wire it up for a second big bang. If one group blew up a rock without him knowing about it, who’s to say two groups wouldn’t act without his express consent? A big explosion could be his personal goodbye to the mayor of Denver.

As he laughed to himself and considered acting out his rage, he realized there was an even better way of torching the rock.

He ran back to his phone.

CHAPTER 21

Rawlins, WY

“All right, super soldier. This is where you earn your keep.” Grace faced Misha, hoping her words would inspire him into action. Instead, he scanned the rail cars, the engine, then the yard containing Nerio’s tree. When he was done, he looked back to her.

“You and him must shoot over switches. I will run for train cars. Then I attack her from other direction.” He pointed behind them. Robert’s engine was about thirty feet away, but the line of coal hoppers was less than fifteen.

She patted Asher on the shoulder. “You got that? We’re the diversions. We’re going to shoot when he says.”

“I hear you,” he replied, not sounding too happy about it.

“Okay, in three, two, one,” Misha counted down, then leaned back as if ready to run. She and Asher stood halfway up, then aimed over the top of the switch boxes.

She lined up the tree where she knew Nerio was standing, but she accidentally saw one of the little kids in the window of the house. The small girl popped up, then dropped back down, perhaps thinking it was a game to play with the strange people in her yard.

“Wait!” she cried out before Asher could fire.

Nerio had no qualms about using her weapon. Several cracks of her gun were followed by metallic zings as bullets hit the hoppers. She spun around, expecting Misha to already be on the far side of the coal haulers, but he was on the ground almost where he’d started.

“Misha!”

He grasped at his neck as if he’d been hit.

“Help me get him over here,” she said with excitement.

She and Asher pulled him over the rocks. His hand was bloody, and the big Russian man groaned in pain, but the wound didn’t seem life threatening. It was, however, on the same patch of skin where she’d burned him days earlier.

“Are you all right?” she asked.

He forced out a smile. “My neck stings like hornet bite. She shot me before I could get safe. Why did you not fire?”

She’d almost forgotten about it. “The kids! There are kids in the window next to the tree. I didn’t want to hit them.”

Misha rolled his eyes.

Nerio cried out. “Misha, I’ll give you one more chance. Kill them yourself and I’ll let you go. But you have to get the engineer and any passengers, too. I don’t want any witnesses.”

Misha checked his hand when he pulled it off his neck. He also showed the wound to Grace and Asher. “What do you think? I am okay?”

The bullet had grazed his neck. No arteries appeared severed.

“You’ll live through this battle,” she said dryly.

A bullet whizzed off the switching equipment.

“Come on!” Nerio screamed. “I don’t have all day!”

Misha looked at her with a serious gaze. “Will you trust me to shoot with delicate touch?”

She waved for him to try it. “Please don’t hit the kids.”

He wiped the blood on his shirt, then got the weapon ready at his chest. After sucking in a few deep breaths, he put the gun up on the equipment, aimed, then rifled off five or six shots. When another came back, he ducked down.

“Her husband is by other tree. He is trying to move around. Take shots on our flank.”

Grace figured there was no way for the man to get around the sides of their position since he’d have to cross empty railroad tracks, but the evil couple was gaining an edge over them. One could talk while the other shot or moved. Grace and her friends were losing more control over the encounter, stuck behind the equipment.

She sidled up to Asher. “Got any brilliant ideas? We could use one about now.”

He laughed a little. “I can tell you what type of rock we’re lying on.” He picked up a three-inch-long piece. “It’s granite.” After dropping it, he continued. “But all this shooting and running isn’t in my wheelhouse. I hate to say this, but my only skill is hiding.”

Despite her misgivings about Asher at the start, she’d come to depend on him for support. He’d often done the saving in their relationship, such as when he’d found the extinct geyser pit. She hoped he’d come up with an equally brilliant plan as they sat there. Grace kept him from seeing her worry. “Well, then, all you need to do is figure out a way to hide us in plain sight. How can we get behind the train without exposing ourselves to the shooters?”

“Is not possible,” Misha interjected. “Only way is for one of us to shoot at them. Other two run behind train car. Then train drives away.”

She was surprised. “You’re talking about yourself, aren’t you?”

He nodded without putting strain on his neck. “Is not suicide. I will jump on train when it starts to move. It will give you two civilians best chance to live.”

Grace fought against a wave of guilt for wanting to let him do it. As she thought it over, she noticed a truck moving on a nearby residential street. There was another car far down the rail yard, crossing the tracks on a road. If they could hold off long enough, someone was bound to notice the gunplay. Someone in the town would call the police. Gunfire couldn’t be such a common occurrence no one would think to involve law enforcement, right?

If she were home, what would happen in a similar scenario? People shot guns around Kentucky Lake all the time. Neither she nor her parents ever raced to the phone to call the sheriff. Even people doing target practice on her street barely caught her notice, she suddenly remembered.

“It might be our only choice,” she finally agreed.

Misha smiled. “Can I have two guns? One for each hand?”

She didn’t think it would matter. Her job was to run. If he wanted two guns, it was no problem for her.

The hitman made sure her weapon was primed to fire. He shifted it to his left hand, adding it as a duplicate of the one in his right. She thought he looked like he was enjoying the moment a little too much.

That was when he pointed the guns at her.

Kansas City, MO

Ezra stood at the exit of the skyscraper. Prior to the asteroid, it was probably an elegant lobby with a fancy restaurant and conference area. Now it was filled with dried mud and a few pieces of driftwood, which had been forced inside when the water came through. There were also several chunks of rock from the more recent explosion. He picked up a shiny piece about the size of a baseball. “Does this look like gold to you?”

They all scanned the lobby. Many of the rocks shimmered. Those by the door reflected sunlight, making them more obvious.

Haley bent over to grab a few. “These all look like gold. It’s a…gold mine.”

Soon Butch joined in, scooping up an armful of it. “You’ve got the backpack, E-Z. Mind carrying my loot?”

He waved him off. “Wait a minute. I can’t carry rocks across the city. We have to find something else. The ammo is heavy enough.”

“Just one,” Butch joked, picking up a black-and-gold rock the size of a basketball.

The three of them shared a few moments of levity. The weight of the daring boat ride and dance between the bullets and fireworks fell away. The fear he’d never talk to Grace again. The disappointment of losing his boat. It all drained out of him, replaced by laughter and his newfound wealth.

“There’s more in here!” someone shouted from across the lobby.

A wave of people crowded themselves through the far door, led by a man in jeans and a dirty white T-shirt. He’d shoved a pistol into the front of his waistband. When the guy saw Ezra, he shouted. “You! Drop it! This is ours!” The man pulled out his pistol while moving closer.

Butch dropped the heavy rock, switching to his rifle in one smooth motion.

He and Haley also let their pieces fall.

“We don’t want any trouble,” Ezra called out, already retreating toward the main door.

It was the same crowd who’d been standing along the shore. They came in through the broken doors like the tide. Some were bloodied from being struck. A few already had bandaged extremities. All of them seemed angry. They broke out in shouts once the leader identified the three of them as interlopers.

“We’ve got to go!” he said to Butch and Haley.

Haley held a small chunk close to her body.

“She’s stealing it!” a woman screamed.

Haley was already through the door and outside, but she tossed the rock as soon as she heard the accusation. “I don’t want trouble,” she said to the man with the pistol, picking up her pace to a jog.

He ran with them, keeping his rifle at the ready.

The street was filled with abandoned and muddied cars, as if there’d been a traffic jam when the asteroid bounced into the river. It took a few extra seconds to get around them and across the street. Haley and Butch stayed ahead of him. When he touched the far sidewalk, someone shot at them from behind.

“Thieves!” T-shirt guy bellowed.

Haley held up her hands, showing they were empty.

A bearded guy lined up a shotgun.

“Run for it!” Ezra yelled, ducking behind the line of cars.

The boom of the scattergun was followed by an unknown number of pellets peppering the nearby vehicles. The tinkle of broken glass was mixed with the pings of metal on metal. Haley and Butch needed no additional motivation. They kept low, ran next to the cars, and didn’t look back.

Ezra quickly fell behind the pair of youngsters. At the first intersection, he was a few yards back. By the next one, he trailed by fifty yards.

“Come on, old man,” Butch laughed as he waited with Haley by the post for the traffic lights.

“Are they still back there?” he asked, winded.

“A few,” Butch replied. “Let me take the pack.”

Ezra could barely breathe, so giving up the pack wasn’t a difficult choice. Haley offered to take his rifle, but he wasn’t ready to be unarmed in a city full of hostiles.

The short break had given the pursuit a false sense of catching up. The shotgun guy stopped, lined up another shot, then let it rip. The birdshot sprayed the red, amber, and green stoplight bulbs.

He pointed to the on-ramp for the interstate, which appeared to run on a viaduct to the west. “Up there!” The same abandoned traffic from the downtown street continued onto the highway. If they could get up there, they’d have a superior position to either hold off the people chasing them, or they could run ahead and get lost among the many vehicles.

“Bring it back!” the man in the white T-shirt complained.

“We don’t have it!” Haley shouted.

“Don’t bother,” Ezra advised. “They’re in shock. I think.”

There were perhaps twenty men chasing them, though many had stayed inside the building, stealing the same rocks they’d been accused of taking. Ezra didn’t think they’d be receptive to allowing him to explain the logic to them.

Another shotgun blast boomed.

“I’m in shock, too,” Haley snarked. “Why don’t they give us a break?”

Butch took her hand and they ran together toward the highway entrance.

He let himself have five extra seconds, aware he couldn’t keep up with them, even without the heavy pack. If he had to hunker down and hold off the men with his rifle, he figured it might go his way. However, he realized his ammo supply was running away from him.

“Dang it,” he exhaled, running across the street to give chase.

Minutes later, exhausted, he made it to the top of the ramp. The highway went due west, as expected, but it also crossed the western edge of the new lake. He figured the area had once been a floodplain filled with warehouses and other industrial buildings. The structures beneath the long span were partially washed away. Some were underwater.

“You going to make it?” Butch asked as he arrived.

He looked back. The only man who’d stuck with them the whole way was T-shirt guy. The rest of the men had turned around or flat-out given up. The owner of the shotgun strode back toward the building with his gun over his shoulders.

Still breathing hard, Ezra could only ask for help.

“Will you put one over his head? I don’t want anyone following us on this bridge. We’re getting the hell out of Kansas City.” Looking to the west end of the span, the greener region of Kansas suggested they didn’t have far to go to escape the urban center.

Butch lined up the shot, but Haley interrupted.

“Let me do it. I’m the one he accused of stealing.”

The big man smiled at Ezra, then winked.

Ezra gave his blessing. “Sure, Haley. You’ve earned the right. Take your shot.”

“Make sure you miss,” Butch added quickly.

She paused. “What do you take me for? An expert markswoman? Of course, I’m going to miss.”

Butch laughed, obviously admiring the young woman.

He watched to see what would happen.

CHAPTER 22

Rawlins, WY

“You can’t be serious,” Grace said with exasperation in her voice. Misha held two rifles pointed at her. Asher shuffled next to her, leaving his rifle on the ground. She thought he did the right thing. There was no chance of drawing a weapon on the guy who already had his guns aimed.

“I am sorry,” he drawled with his thick Russian accent. “This was nothing like what I wanted. We were to go to Yellowstone. Fight noble fight. Win against bad guys.”

“We still can,” Asher said matter-of-factly. “All you have to do is figure out another option.”

“We cannot, my friend. I need you two on your feet.” He slid closer to the switching equipment, then turned a little to face Nerio. “I will do what you ask. I bring them to you!”

Nerio laughed in disbelief. “Like I would trust you! Shoot them where they stand. Then you and I will talk.”

Asher grabbed her hand, which she readily accepted. She turned to face him and his big brown eyes. She’d never noticed they also had speckles of emerald, giving them a deep, rich texture. They were the kind of eyes she could spend a long time exploring. “Ash, I’m so sorry for trusting him. You can blame this entirely on me.”

“Okay,” he joked, barely containing the fear behind those same eyes. “But, seriously, I believed him, too.”

Misha became agitated. “You must get up. We have to cross tracks and go to her.”

“Aren’t you going to shoot us?” she snapped.

“Stand up. I show you what I will do.” He lurched forward, forcing her to rock back on her heels. It seemed like he meant business, so she got out of her crouch and stood up. Asher came up with her.

A second later, Misha stood up as well. To her relief, he was between her and Nerio. It would be sweet justice if she shot him first. Then they’d have a chance.

Misha waved her sideways, out from behind the switches. He yelled to Nerio at the same time. “I bring them to you. I cannot shoot them.”

The assassin sounded shocked. “Did you lose your mojo? You need me to hold your hand?” She yelled to her husband on the far side of the yard. “We will see if he brings them over. Shoot to kill if he tries anything.”

“I’m on it,” Alejandro said in a mechanical tone.

Misha shuffled around her and Asher, getting behind them. “Walk slowly. Do not try anything.”

A silent sob bubbled up from out of nowhere. She managed to quell it before it escaped her mouth, but Asher noticed it. He strengthened his grip on her hand, which made her even more emotional. If this was how they met their end, it wasn’t very noble. A dirty rail yard was one of the last places she ever imagined she’d visit, much less where she’d die. She gripped his hand in return.

Misha had no idea how scared she was. She wouldn’t give him the satisfaction.

“I hope she kills you, like they killed your family.”

Misha might have made a grunt in his throat, but he was a professional, too. He wasn’t going to rise to her clumsy prodding.

They walked over all the tracks and got to the chain-link fence at the edge of the yard. A small gate was set in the middle, about midway between the two shooters. However, Misha had walked them toward the left-hand side of the yard, close to the neighboring privacy fence. They were in clear view of Alejandro, but not Nerio. She remained hidden behind her tree, as if mistrusting the Russian.

“Are you sure you want to do this?” Nerio asked. “If I have to shoot them, I might accidentally shoot you, too. Perhaps you should put down your rifles, so we can talk?”

Misha laughed. “There must be trust. How about you put down gun? I back up. You kill my friends. I get out alive.”

“Mmm,” Nerio replied, as if licking her lips. “You know how to tempt a girl.” She added, “Alejandro, you got them?”

“Easy shot,” the man replied from across the yard.

Grace sensed Misha’s gun in her hair, behind her right ear. He was close.

“Listen, my friends. Make no reaction with face. You must run to big fence when I poke you in back, yes? I will hold them off. You run.”

She remained frozen for five seconds, processing the new data. “You’re letting us go?” she whispered.

“Da. This is Russian ruse. Works very well. Now you go.”

Asher spoke with incredulity. “Why didn’t you just say so at the beginning?”

He whispered. “You never understand. Easier this way.” Misha then spoke in a loud voice. “This is where we part ways, my stupid American friends.”

“Wait!” Grace blurted. She wasn’t ready to run, she wasn’t anxious to be shot from either direction, but most of all she wanted to thank the man for putting his life on the line for them.

She didn’t get her chance. Misha shoved her hard in the back. So much so it actually hurt, causing her to yelp in pain. She lurched forward out of reaction and Misha fired his gun at point-blank range, causing her to move even faster.

Asher kept hold of her hand, pulling her toward the privacy fence to the left.

Misha fired several times, but the rounds weren’t going into their backs. He aimed them somewhere else. While on the run, she didn’t concern herself about where.

The husband returned fire immediately.

Nerio also shot around her tree, but even out of her peripheral vision Grace was able to confirm the woman couldn’t get a bead on her and Asher. Misha had planned his last walk perfectly, putting himself at the edge of the woman’s vision, while also putting his body between them and the guy at the far side of the yard.

She stopped at the edge of the fence. Misha stood where he was, pumping rounds out of both rifles at the same time. He’d aim in one direction, then shoot a few rounds. He repeated the act with the second gun, shooting at the other target.

“Run!” she shouted to him, amazed he was still alive.

He half-turned, wearing a crazy smile, but didn’t come. Instead, he reoriented on his victims and poured fire onto them.

A white blur appeared on the street in front of the house. It shot past Nerio, went in front of the house itself, then reappeared on the far side. It zeroed in on Alejandro like a cruise missile.

“Oh shit,” she said dryly.

Kansas City, KS

“We crossed the state line.” Haley pointed to the big blue sign hanging above the side of the bridge. The “Kansas Welcomes You” greeting was paired with a sunflower. The three of them stopped at the waypoint, but not to look at the simple sign. They had to check out the wreckage of the city down in the water about ten feet below.

The object that caught his eye first was a partially submerged airplane about a quarter of a mile out in the water. As he searched, several others were wedged in various positions in the lake, as if an airport had been down there before the water swelled over it.

“This looks like Armageddon,” he said with quiet reverence.

Butch spoke next. “It’s no wonder those people were pissed. TKM put all those men and resources into their mining op, but I don’t see a single rescue vehicle anywhere else. This city was left to rot.”

“But lots of people survived. We saw them back that way.” Haley pointed to the remains of the rocky island two miles down the widened river. It looked a lot like a volcano had ripped off most of the top and left only a rump. The empty barges had sunk at strange angles, as he’d seen many times on his river journey, giving an unnatural quality to the scenery.

“And lots of people died,” Ezra added sadly. “The city was hit hard when this came down. I don’t think anyone could have survived in the building where we were. They would have been shoved out with all the furniture and desks. Who knows what happened to all those people in their cars? We know for a fact they couldn’t drive away. TKM should have been in there helping the survivors, not picking at the carcass.”

Haley pulled a golf-ball-sized rock from her stretch pants. “People will do anything for this stuff.”

Ezra shook his head. “You had it all along?”

“No,” she said immediately. “I threw down all the big pieces. However, this is the first one I grabbed. I kept it hidden the whole time. Those guys couldn’t have seen it. I wanted you to have this. For your boat.” She offered it to him.

“No. I can’t.”

“No one saw me take it,” she insisted.

He held up his hands. “It isn’t that. I don’t mind you having it. I’m glad, actually. I want you to keep it.” Ezra chuckled. “I’ll probably get the insurance money on my boat. I’ll just have to explain how we got it all the way to Kansas City and then tell the tale of how it was driven into a fiery explosion by strangers. There are probably lots of small pieces on the bottom of the river I can use as evidence.”

“I think I’d take the gold,” Butch mused.

She spun on the big guy. “You want it? You can buy yourself a new hat.” His black Stetson had stayed on throughout the whole day, and even survived his swim in the water, but it was starting to look dirty and worn out.

He stood back. “Why would you give it to me?”

Ezra began walking. For the next several minutes he listened as the pair argued over who should keep the valuable rock. Later, they disagreed about how much it was worth. Lastly, they huddled around Ezra when he suggested they better cash it in before everyone else in Kansas City ran to the gold dealers with their new finds. Too much gold at one time was going to crater the value. They didn’t seem to believe him.

The bridge ended on the far side of the Kansas River, which ran into the lake portion of the Missouri River. After walking another mile or two, they appeared to be entering the residential area of the metropolis.

“Wait,” Butch signaled, stopping on the shoulder of the highway.

“What do you see?” Ezra asked.

Butch got them off to the side of the road before speaking. “You aren’t going to believe this. There’s a roadblock up ahead.”

Ezra sighed. “It’s TKM, isn’t it?”

Butch tapped his rifle stock. “This nightmare is never going to end. Are they everywhere?”

Haley pointed behind them. “They’ve probably kept the traffic from going back in there. Once we get past them, maybe we won’t see them anymore.”

“As long as those crowds don’t show up,” Ezra remarked.

Butch wiped sweat off his brow. “What’s the plan, E-Z? We going in swinging, or should we go around them this time?”

Ezra sat there thinking about it. They were almost to safety. However, after being tracked by TKM from St. Charles, then almost getting shot at their clandestine dig site, he was worried they still were high on the priority list for the powerful company. He’d witnessed an atrocity back in the city. Could he make someone pay for it?

Ezra rubbed his hands together. “I have an idea.”

CHAPTER 23

Rawlins, WY

The streak of white was Calvin’s beat-up old pickup truck. It cut through the fence on the far side of the yard, swerved toward Alejandro, and crashed into the tree, pinning the man in place. The airbag deployed, masking the driver.

Nerio fumed. “You bastards! How?” She stepped around the big tree trunk, spraying gunfire at Misha with her pistol. The Russian had been focused on the wreck, perhaps deciding if the stricken husband needed a few extra bullets in his head. When Nerio began her barrage, he was caught flat-footed for once.

He fired back, but fell to the ground, trying to avoid getting hit.

Unsure what to do, Grace bent over and scooped up a large rock. Without thinking, and with little aiming, she winged it at Nerio. Precision throwing wasn’t really in her wheelhouse, so it came as a shock when the rock whizzed near the woman’s head. However, instead of hitting her, it sailed through the side window of the small home.

“Great. After everything, I’ll be the one who hurts the kids.”

Nerio stopped firing and turned to face her. “You think you’re funny?”

“I do!” she bragged, falling back behind the fence. If she could distract the woman, Misha might have a chance of scooting over to her. Why he wasn’t already on his feet was a mystery.

“We’ll see.” Nerio pulled a small canister from her gear and tossed it toward Misha. The little can bounced through the fence and started spewing out white smoke.

She retreated behind her tree, tossing a second object after the first. The metal orb struck the rear fence too, then fell to the grass, perhaps ten feet from where Misha was on the ground. Unlike the other, it didn’t start smoking.

“It’s a grenade!” Asher exclaimed.

“Run, Misha! She threw a grenade!”

He didn’t get up, but he tumbled sideways in her direction. He made it into his second roll when the grenade exploded, sending up a fountain of grass and dirt and blowing the fence outward.

Misha yelled some Russian words she assumed weren’t very nice, but he continued toward her. By the time he was a few feet away, he was crawling on his hands and knees. Bloody splotches were all over his right side.

“You’re hit!” she bleated.

“I think I took grenade in teeth.” He smiled, revealing a small hole in his cheek. He spit on the rocks a second later.

The smoke wafted all over the yard, making it impossible to see Nerio’s position or what had become of her husband. However, the shrill scream of a woman came from the far side of the house, followed by a few gunshots.

“What happened?” Misha asked, sitting against the privacy fence, exhausted.

“Someone crashed into that man. They drove right into him.”

“Your friends?” the Russian asked.

She knew the truck, and assumed it was Calvin inside, but she wasn’t ready to say for certain. How would he have found them? The Crow tribe members were supposed to be well ahead of the train. Misha had wanted it that way, he said, so they could deal with Nerio his way.

Misha gave up his guns to her and Asher. She wrapped his bloody arm as best she could, tearing part of Misha’s shirt into a dozen bandages. While Asher watched the smoke clear and stayed alert for more tossed grenades, she wiped blood from the right side of Misha’s injured neck and torso. She judged the man was suffering from shock. He sat next to the fence with a blank stare.

Tires screeched, signaling a vehicle leaving.

Misha snapped awake. “That’s Nerio. She’s abandoning her position.” He struggled to stand, then made his way to the broken fence.

“Are you sure?” she asked, not willing to expose herself to possible gunshots.

“Trust me,” he said, limping across the back yard, heading for the crash scene.

She and Asher followed, noticing the group of kids still inside the house. They were getting the show of their lives, for sure. She waved to them, which elicited immediate and excited replies.

“Are you cops?” one of them asked through the window she’d broken out with her rock toss.

“No. We’re park rangers.”

“Wow!” a few of them replied.

The smallest girl, perhaps six or seven, came right up to the windowsill. “I want to be a park ranger when I grow up. You’re awesome!”

An older redheaded girl added, “I want to be the lady with the black outfit and pretty red hair. She was cool!”

Grace didn’t want to explain the difference in motives to the children. All they knew was that guns were employed by both sides. Who was in the right wasn’t their concern. However, she didn’t want them to see the injured man on the other side of the yard, so she stopped. “Are your parents home?”

The kids shook their heads no.

“Can any of you call 9-1-1? We need an ambulance.” She was thinking of Misha, but Alejandro would also need help, as would the driver of the truck, more likely than not.

The kids retreated deeper into the house, laughing and yelling excitedly at the game they were playing with Grace.

She walked the rest of the way to the tree. Alejandro was in worse shape than she could have imagined. The front of the truck had caught him square against the side of the tree. Everything below his belt was smashed.

“She took your stupid boy. I don’t think she’s going to be too kind to him,” the injured Hispanic man spoke in accented English.

“Boy? Who are you talking about?” After she’d said it, she knew. It was Calvin’s truck, but the older man probably wasn’t the one behind the wheel.

Alejandro had no more to add. He passed out after laughing at her obvious disappointment.

“Logan,” she said with dismay.

Kansas City, KS

Ezra walked alone down the last few hundred yards of the highway before the roadblock. There were three of the TKM-blue SUVs parked end to end, blocking all three lanes of the highway heading into the city. He had to cross from the outbound lanes over to the side with the barricade. When the men noticed him, he raised his hands as high as possible, but didn’t stop walking.

“I’m unarmed!” he shouted.

“Where are you going?” a man asked from behind his truck.

“Denver,” he lied. It wasn’t his destination, but it was somewhere the men would recognize as being behind them, assuming they knew some basic geography. Given his low expectations of the type of people hired by TKM, he figured he ought to add some details. “It’s eight hundred miles in that direction.”

“How did you get through the city?” the leader asked.

Ezra scanned the roadblock to see how many men were there. He figured at least three, if each of them drove their own vehicle, though there could be a lot more if each SUV had been filled to capacity. If that was the case, his walk might have been for nothing.

“If you mean how I got past the giant explosion set off by TKM, then the answer is easy. I was one of the lucky ones who survived.”

He was about twenty yards from the trucks. Close enough to see the young guard holding a small carbine rifle on the hood of his ride. A second man appeared behind the truck on the left. Were there only two?

The man craned his neck, as if looking beyond him. “Not sure what you’re talking about. We’re here to keep people out of the city. It’s for your own protection.”

“So you’re letting me come out?”

The man shook his head. “I don’t have orders for what happens when someone comes the other way. You’re literally the first one I’ve seen today.”

He shrugged. “Surely I can’t be the first one. What about your friends? What’s the protocol for when an inconvenient person comes out of the no-no zone?” His intention was to engage the other men at the roadblock, and he wasn’t disappointed. Man number three came out from the truck on the right.

“We’ve had a few over the past week. None of them looked like you, however. They was wrecked. Beat up. Injured. You look like you’ve been up to no good in there. Mind if we check you for contraband? Weapons?”

It’s what he’d been expecting. “Be my guest. I do need to be very clear, however. I’m not a threat. I have no weapons. Please don’t shoot me.” It was for his own safety. He expected them to be trigger happy and anxious to outdo each other on the Rambo scale. Unlike the men who’d shot up his boat, the guys at the roadblock were probably aching to get into a fight.

That was a pro-tip given to him by Butch.

“We’ll be the judge of whether you’re dangerous.” The three men came out from the safety of their trucks. The first man carried his carbine. The other two had semi-automatic pistols.

He laughed.

“What’s so damned funny?” the leader asked, not sharing his mood.

“Oh, it’s hard to explain. I had a run-in with guys like you back in St. Charles. I stayed out of the way while your team members looted the gun counter at a Bass Pro. Then I tried to avoid being shot by more of your men when they stormed a camp full of families. This morning I watched as your friends blew up the asteroid sitting in the river. It killed a crap ton of Kansas City, uh, people.” He wasn’t sure what to call them. To put an exclamation point on his speech, he laughed even harder.

The carbine guy lowered the rifle, clearly settling into the role of controlling his prisoner. “Still don’t understand why that’s so hilarious to you.”

He snorted, then pointed at their trucks. “Because you forgot your roadblock has two directions.”

Butch and Haley stood behind the men, aiming rifles and looking as if they might pull the trigger on the spot.

The men dropped their weapons.

His plan for a two-pronged diversion had finally worked.

Denver, CO

Petteri allowed himself a moment of reflection while the helicopter blades got up to speed. The city of Denver was crumpling in around him like a wet paper bag. His men had fought off the uprising of citizens as much as they did battle with elements of the city police force and other mining companies. When enough steam gathered against him, he simply didn’t have enough men to hold the line. Even promises of untold wealth couldn’t change that reality.

The executive helicopter lifted off the roof, taking him, Dorothy, Mr. Aarons and his two extra guards to safety. He leaned to see out the window.

“Will we ever see the ore?” Dorothy asked sadly.

His team had done their best. It was no longer a curved ball of rock; one side had been chiseled down by several feet and the ore evacuated on dump trucks. But it was a small portion of the greater treasure. He estimated his people had gotten ten percent at best. It pained him to admit they would never get the ore. There was a way to rephrase what was about to happen.

“Dorothy, the rock down there still has value to TKM. You are about to see how.”

Petteri pulled out his smartphone and dialed a familiar number.

Stricker picked up after two rings. “Ah, Mr. Petteri. How good of you to call.”

“I’ve made my decision.” He sighed for effect. “TKM will surrender the dig site in Denver to the US government as payment for your trouble.”

“Excellent!” Stricker bubbled.

“But that’s not all.”

“Oh?” the man on the phone said cautiously. “I must remind you the president wants this—”

Petteri laughed in a jovial way. “This isn’t about being difficult. This is about helping the nation. I’ve tried to get my relief trucks into the cities to help the people survive. My teams have made some progress, but even I have to admit I might have bitten off more than I could chew. My fondest desire is knowing Tikkanen Mining has done a small service in keeping people alive until your government forces could get in there and finish the job.”

He set up his final gamble with his losing hand.

“I want to offer you the entire dig site in an additional city. Consider it a down payment for all the work you’re going to do with the recovery efforts. Denver was, um, a mutually agreed-upon fee from TKM.” He chafed saying the words but couldn’t get around the fact he’d been played. “However, to show you we are in this together, to the end, we’re giving the second rock as an outright charitable gift. No strings attached.”

Petteri looked over to Dorothy. Her jaw had come unhinged. Probably due to her never imagining he contained an ounce of charity in his body. Stricker sounded equally as surprised over the phone line.

“Hello?” he prodded.

“I’m here,” Stricker replied. “That is very generous, sir. Perhaps, with this new understanding, we could work out an equitable transfer regimen? Say a period where my department takes over, looks at what’s involved, then we get the rest of the agencies in there. I could even cut you in on my operation; say, ten percent of my take.”

He couldn’t pass on an opportunity for free money. “How about fifteen percent? I’ll even leave some of my equipment at each of the dig sites.”

Petteri smiled wickedly at the destruction down on the streets. There was some abandoned equipment scattered on the roads. He hadn’t been lying. But men and women from the city also stood near the giant rock. Stricker would have to deal with them to get to the equipment, and the rock itself.

On the brighter side, Stricker was being Stricker, as he expected. The man no doubt wanted to handle things through his department so he could skim billions off the top and into his own offshore accounts. It would consume Stricker’s attention. It would further delay a proper takeover by government authorities, giving Petteri the necessary time to do what he needed to salvage his own investments.

“My dear Mr. Stricker, I think we have ourselves a nice little quid pro quo.”

The helicopter left the Denver dig site, heading north.

All his resources were going into the remaining piece south of Yellowstone.

CHAPTER 24

Rawlins, WY

Grace hoped to get more information out of the man pinned to the tree, but he wouldn’t wake up. She didn’t need any of her medical expertise to judge he might even be dead. She asked the question, though she didn’t expect the guy to respond. “Why would Nerio take Logan to Yellowstone?”

“As a hostage, I guess,” Asher replied.

“That is right,” Misha added. “She has boy to prevent Crow people from attacking.”

Grace laughed to herself. “Hostage-taking might work in whatever crap-hole she comes from, but I don’t think Nerio knows a thing about Native Americans. Stealing their boy will only make them angrier. They aren’t going to roll over and take it.”

Misha leaned heavily against the tree.

“What about you? Are you going to survive this?” The ex-hitman had been shot in the neck, sprayed with shrapnel from a grenade, and he seemed to have a new bullet wound in his left arm, a little above his elbow.

“I am okay,” he said with a hoarse voice. “You saved my life when you distracted Nerio.”

She smiled proudly. “It was just a rock.”

He bowed a few inches. “You have skill for taking simple and making into weapons. Bear spray. Flamethrower. Truck. Now rock. Maybe you should sign up for being assassin.”

Asher piled on. “Yeah, they’d never see it coming.”

She found the humor in it, but it was tempered by the loss of Logan. As she watched and waited for the paramedics to arrive, a couple of pickup trucks skidded around the corner in front of the house. More followed. Seconds later, there were twenty cars and trucks lined up.

“It’s Shawn,” she said in a knowing voice. “They came to find their son.”

She met the Crow chairman and his wife on the front lawn.

“Where’s Logan?” the sour-faced man asked as soon as he saw her. A moment later, as he noticed Calvin’s demolished truck, he continued. “He snuck away from us to come here. I should have known he’d do it. He spoke only of helping you to make his mistake in Billings balance out.”

She didn’t know how to explain what had happened, but she started out in the most honest way she knew how. “He did show up. I think he was watching us the whole time. When the shooting started, he jumped in the truck and sped toward danger. As you can see, he got in on the action. He saved all our lives.”

Tyressa propped up her injured husband, who still looked as if he’d lost a lot of blood. The Crow woman didn’t let the big man distract her. She glared at Grace. “Where is he now? Is he…in the truck?”

“No,” she said with relief. “He’s not hurt, as best I can tell. But, well, he…” She didn’t know how to explain those crazy few seconds. Somehow, Nerio had gone around the house, using the smoke as a diversion, and pulled Logan out of his truck, and into her vehicle. Then she sped off. Besides knowing the kid wasn’t dead, there was almost nothing good she could say. “He…”

“I’m fine!”

Grace whipped her head toward the other end of the street. Logan walked along the sidewalk as if it was any normal day.

The Crow parents hobbled their way onto the sidewalk and watched the boy come in. He was unarmed and seemed bruised and sore, but otherwise in good spirits.

“How?” she queried, joining Shawn and Tyressa.

Logan jogged the last few paces and threw himself into the waiting arms of his parents. Around them, the Crow citizens fanned out like a pack of protective wolves, rifles and handguns at the ready, as if the person who took Logan might try to come back.

Some of the neighbors were now at their doors, observing the scene. Sirens wailed in the distance; the children had made good on their promise to call for help. She had a tickling sensation they needed to clear out, but she couldn’t go anywhere without hearing Logan’s explanation of his last few minutes.

Shawn demanded answers. “Son, what the hell happened here?”

The boy pulled away from his mom and dad. He acknowledged Grace and Asher. “I parked down there,” he pointed toward the rail yard, “and watched as the train arrived. I figured this town was a good place for the woman to make her attack run, so I watched the skies all around. I was going to warn my friends when I saw her.”

He inhaled deeply. “But instead, I heard gunshots. Saw these guys get pinned down. That’s when I drove on the streets, came around behind the woman and the other man. I considered trying to shoot them, but I knew it would be too risky to take them both on by myself.” The boy looked at his mother. “I knew you would not approve.”

Tyressa Runs Hard stared at him with a stone-cold, emotionless look.

“So, I drove onto the next block, watched through the trees, and waited until I was sure where the man was standing. Then I came back to this street at high speed, went across the yard, knocked over the fence, and hit the guy in the teepee.” He giggled at his joke.

His mother was still frozen, as if disapproving of it all. Shawn, however, wore a wide grin.

Grace kept the questions rolling. “And how did you get away from her? Alejandro, the man against the tree, said she took you.”

Logan cracked up. “If there’s one thing she should have known about me, it’s how I like to do my own thing. I snuck onto your ride when you and my dad left the rez. I didn’t wait and do nothing when you told me to stay in that train shed. I stole Uncle Cal’s truck instead of sticking with the convoy. And, well, after my brain stopped ringing from hitting the tree, I decided I didn’t want to be her prisoner, so I let myself out of her moving truck.”

“You j-jumped?” Tyressa stammered in shock.

“Yeah, Mom. I’m fine. A few bruises is all.” He showed her his elbows, which were bloodied, but not ruined.

His mom broke down with tears of relief and wrapped her arms around him.

Shawn turned to Grace. “You better tend to your odd friend.” He pointed to Misha, who was now on the ground next to the wrecked white truck.

“Oh, crap,” she blurted.

When she reached him, he was face-down in the uncut grass of the yard. His injuries must have been worse than he let on. He was already wrapped in her ugly homemade bandages and looked like he’d been dragged behind the nearby train, shredded by a pack of wild dogs, then tossed like trash into the middle of the backyard.

He whispered. “You should get out of here. Will be hard to explain.”

The sirens were close.

“We can’t leave you,” she replied, wondering if it was a true statement. It would be easy to run through the crushed fence, hop Robert’s train, and slip out of town.

“I will need medical help. I will explain what happened. No need for you to be here. Go to Yellowstone. I will catch up.” He laughed, as if it weren’t obvious he was being sarcastic.

She scanned the yard, looking for alternatives. What would the police think about what really happened there? How could anyone explain a scene involving hitmen, foreign assassins, grenades, and wrecked trucks? Who would believe the entire Crow Nation randomly showed up on the quiet street? None of it would make any sense, especially without capturing Nerio.

Grace turned to Asher. “Should we get out of here?”

He did the same survey of the yard. “I would rather hop the train than go to the police station. We might be stuck in this town for a long time. And if TKM has any tendrils inside their department, we might be in even more trouble.”

That sealed it for her. Seeing Misha next to the open truck door gave her an idea on how to make things right. She first turned to Asher. “Run out front. Get Shawn and the others to clear out as fast as they can. We don’t want to be here when the ambulance arrives.”

“Roger,” he said, smiling at her, then running.

Once he was gone, Misha spoke from the grass. “You have admirer.”

“Oh, please. Don’t tell me you’re into me.”

He croaked laughter. “No. Not me. Him. Your curly-haired partner.”

She blushed. “Sorry. Talking to you is confusing. I know in my brain you aren’t trying to hurt me, but I guess it will take a while before my heart believes it. And, as for what you said… Don’t tell anyone, but I’m into him, too, but this isn’t the time to be lovey-dovey.” She figured the injured man wouldn’t remember what day it was, much less a silly one-liner about Asher.

Grace went on. “Now, listen. You’re going to do as I say for once. Help is on the way for your wounds. All you have to do is lie here and do absolutely nothing. Do you understand?”

“Nothing,” he echoed.

“Correct. They’ll think you were the driver of the truck. You hit this guy on the tree by accident. It will all add up, I hope.”

He spoke with a cold, dry tone. “Witnesses. Should I kill the children?”

She’d almost forgotten about them. They were the only ones who’d been there for the whole attack. They saw Nerio. Knew she and Asher were involved. They were indeed witness—

Misha quietly chuckled.

Grace caught on. “You’re kidding, right?”

“I am learning English joking.”

She laughed with him. “Thanks for being an okay dude. I hope they fix you up and you make it to Yellowstone. We’ll do our best out there.”

He turned serious, trying to angle his head her way while keeping it on the ground. “Find man named Jake Ray. He was partner at dig site. Tell him Bryansk is beautiful this time of year. Is our code. He will know I sent you.”

“‘Bryansk is beautiful this time of year.’ Got it.”

“Take rifle. Knife on ankle. You will need them if Nerio comes back.”

She pulled a huge knife from Misha’s ankle holster. He’d been armed the entire time, much to her surprise. As she gathered his rifle, she realized Nerio had taken Alejandro’s weapon. It made it easier to scrub the place.

Asher came back as car tires peeled out in the front. “They’re leaving,” he declared.

The sirens were a street or two over.

“We’re making a break for the train. Get our guns, Ash. We don’t want to be here when the cops show up.”

“Will do!” he exclaimed. Asher hopped up, about to run off, but he stopped and looked down on Misha. “Uh, thanks for your help. They’ll take good care of you here.”

Misha snickered. “I told her you like her. Take from me. Do not mess up, kid.”

Asher’s face turned red, which made Grace chuckle at what the Russian man had done to both of them. All she could do was roll her eyes at Asher. “I guess your secret’s out.”

He smiled at her as he spoke to the prone figure. “I won’t, Misha. Thanks again.”

“Do not mention,” he said to the grass.

Together, loaded with weapons, they ran toward the train.

A child’s voice called out to her as she went out the back gate. “Hey! Park ranger lady!”

“Oh, crap,” she said in a low voice. “I forgot about them again.” Grace made it through the gate but turned around. All the kids stood in the rear sliding glass door.

She saluted them. “The super park ranger squad has to go now! We have to help other children. Be sure to tell the police all about our guns, grenades, and smoke bombs, okay?”

The children nodded with zeal.

She laughed to herself as she crossed the tracks toward Robert’s waiting train engine. None of it was planned, but she’d fallen into what she hoped would be a convincing explanation for the children to provide. The kids would speak of park rangers toting heavy weapons and grenades, and strange ladies dressed in black, but who would believe them? Their stories would be seen as embellishments of an already-exciting car accident. The police might not even notice the damaged fence and torn-up yard.

Once on the train, watching the flashing lights in front of the tiny house, she felt as if they were on the way to something bigger and better. The Crow Nation was on her side. Her dad was on the way. Nerio was in retreat. Nothing stood between her and the fallen Yellowstone rock.

Asher stood close as they watched the town of Rawlins fade into the distance. Neither of them had said anything about Misha or his sneaky way of pushing them to be more open about their feelings. For the moment, while catching their breath from the day’s challenges, it seemed enough for both of them to simply be next to each other.

“We’re going back to where it all started,” she said in a tired voice.

“You and I are going to finish this,” he said with confidence, reaching for her hand.

It had been less than a week, but she could hardly remember her normal life prior to the asteroid strikes. If they did finish their fight with Petteri Tikkanen and his hit squads, what would life look like for her going forward? What would normal be like after a near apocalypse? At that moment, she couldn’t imagine it, but it didn’t trouble her as an unresolved feeling might have done in her past.

“Don’t get too comfortable. I don’t care what Misha said back there. You’ll still need to ask my dad’s permission to date me.” He’d joked about talking to her father before, so she tossed it back at him in a friendly way. It was, she admitted to herself, a distraction for expressing her emotions, but she had to stay true to her mission. If she got all slobbery with Ash as her heart was constantly asking her to do, she might miss Nerio or a hundred other threats. For now, her focus needed to remain on finishing their battle. Then she’d worry about the peace.

She really looked forward to it, however.

Grace clasped his hand and squeezed.

Kansas City, KS

“You can’t do this,” the leader of the roadblock said, putting his carbine down.

Haley and Butch swooped in and took their weapons and phones. Then they herded the three TKM guards into an open area on the highway.

“After what you guys did, you should be worrying more about what we can do, rather than what we can’t.” Ezra laughed. “We can make you walk up this highway to meet the people injured by the rock blast. We can make you go into the surrounding neighborhoods and apologize for keeping them in the dark about what’s really going on in the city. Or, I guess, we could put bullets in you here and now, saving everyone a lot of trouble.”

Haley seemed uncomfortable about his acting, but he didn’t blame her. They hadn’t planned what he would say once she and Butch had made it to the roadblock, but he hoped they knew him well enough to know he wasn’t capable of shooting anyone in cold blood. However, he did want to scare the men.

They raised their hands in surrender.

Ezra pointed his rifle at their feet. “I want you to walk away.” He pointed behind them, toward the city.

“Don’t shoot us,” one of them begged.

“I ain’t planning on it, unless you turn around and make a run at me. All I want to see is you walking in that direction. What you do when we’re gone is your decision. But don’t you dare turn around until you see the sign welcoming you to the state of Missouri.” He assumed there was a Missouri sign close to where he’d spotted the Kansas billboard with the sunflower. It was at least a mile away.

“We will,” the leader said, slowly backing away from Ezra and his armed friends.

“Go!” he ordered.

The three TKM men trotted away for a few seconds, then slowed to a brisk walk. He wasn’t going to nitpick. As long as they moved away, he would allow it.

“Well, now what?” Butch asked, stoically watching the men retreat.

Ezra got to work searching the three trucks. He found food, water, ammo, and a gun-cleaning kit. The men had made few preparations for helping the locals, but they came prepared to grease and clean their own weapons. It was the TKM way in a nutshell. When he tossed all the valuable gear into the middle truck, he came up for air to respond to Butch’s question. “Guys, I know where Grace is going to be. I have a pretty good idea what we’re going to find when we get there. I also have a clear idea on how we’re going to get ourselves there.”

They gave him blank looks.

He patted the door of the truck. “We’ll drive there posing as a jolly crew of TKM assholes.”

“To Yellowstone?” Haley asked.

“Close to there, yes. Grace told me she’s going to TKM’s Wyoming dig site, so that’s my destination. There are two other trucks here. If either, or both, of you wants to turn around, I give you my blessing to take a truck and go your own way. For me, my path lies there.” He pointed west.

Butch and Haley shared a friendly smile. Butch looked back to him. “I think we’d like to stick with you. Speaking for myself, if we’re finally off the water, I’ll be in a better frame of mind to provide overwatch.”

Haley jumped in. “And I can help keep the two of you in shape.” She frowned at Ezra. “I noticed you lagging behind when we were on the run.”

“Please don’t make me pull a huge tire,” he mockingly pleaded.

“No, but I could hook a rope to the front bumper of a truck and make you pull that.” She remained serious for a moment, then cracked up.

“You two are okay sticking with me? It really isn’t—”

Butch cut him off. “You didn’t happen to see wire cutters in these trucks, did you?”

He wasn’t sure what to make of the question, but he had seen a small toolbox. When they looked inside, Butch grabbed what he needed. Then, without waiting for approval, he walked over to the side truck and quickly cut the valve stem on each tire. The air whooshed out, soon giving the truck four flat tires.

When Butch saw them watching him, he explained. “They won’t be able to use these trucks until someone comes in with new stems. It will give us plenty of time to escape, and make it hard for those guys to report back in. It looks like these trucks don’t even have radios.”

“You read my mind,” Ezra admitted.

“Remind me never to piss you off,” Haley jested as she patted Butch on the arm.

“This is nothing. I used to put ball bearings in the valve caps of dirtbags I didn’t like back in high school. Over the course of a school day it would slowly let air out of their tires. When they came out to the parking lot, they’d waste so much time airing them back up. I’d laugh the whole time.”

“Good to know,” she said dryly.

Butch smiled. “I’ve always been mechanically inclined, I guess. Nowadays, I put my skills to better use.”

Ezra took a peek at the men far down the highway. They’d made good on their promise to keep going. It gave him the ability to get in the last truck without fear of them coming back to stop them. “There’s plenty of room in the crew cab. Haley, why don’t you take the back seat? Since you have the least experience with guns, maybe Butch can show you how to clean our rifles, plus the new ones we’ve picked up. It will help you learn more about them, for sure.”

“I can get in the back seat with her,” Butch said matter-of-factly. “Just until we have them all cleaned. Then I’ll get in the front to keep watch again.”

Haley spoke up before he could reply. “It would be nice to have a teacher next to me. It would be hard for us both if he had to look back from the front seat.”

Ezra took it in stride. They were making huge concessions in their lives to go on his cross-country adventure. The least he could do was let them have some time together. There was no need to have a girls’ area and a boys’ area, like those lost tents.

“All right. I don’t care where you sit. Get in before I leave you both behind!” He climbed into the front seat, watching with humor as they scrambled one after the other through the rear door. When they were settled, and he saw them in his mirror, he had a flashback of one of Grace’s first dates to a movie theater. She and some boy whose name he couldn’t remember sat in the back of his Jeep. He eyed the couple warily in his rearview mirror, making sure her date didn’t try anything with his precious daughter. Grace once caught sight of him peeking, but she didn’t scowl; instead, she smiled. It was one of those rare instances where he thought she understood why he and her mother were always so protective of her.

This time he did not look back again.

He clapped once, in homage to the game he’d once played with his wife and now his daughter. A game he desperately wanted to continue face-to-face with Grace.

“To Yellowstone!”

IMPACT Book 6
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