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Bounce: Impact Book 2: (A Post-Apocalyptic Survival Thriller Series) Page 3
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Page 3
“Come in,” he managed to say.
She pushed her way inside, anxiously waving a stack of papers. “It’s like you dropped fifty Tunguska events right in the middle of America!”
He sighed.
“Good morning to you, too,” he replied sourly.
Chapter 3
Yellowstone National Park, WY
Tessa, the dispatcher, was already at the broken front window when Grace and Asher ran up to the small police station. She waved them in through the mangled doors and rushed over to them. “Did you guys see the falling stars last night? They ripped the place apart. Were people hurt out by you? Have you been able to get a hold of anyone?”
Grace saw the humor in a police dispatcher asking if she’d made contact. The woman’s job was to talk to other police units on the radio as well as answer the phones from troubled tourists throughout this section of Yellowstone. Looking behind the wild-eyed woman, she saw several of the phones were off their hooks; no one could call in if they wanted to.
She tried to answer her questions in order. “Yes, we did see the explosion last night, but we were kind of hidden from it. No, we didn’t see any hurt people where we were, though there are some wandering around up by the springs. And, no, I’ve not been able to get a hold of anyone. My phone doesn’t have any signal. I, uh, lost my walkie somewhere yesterday. I don’t remember where it went.”
She pulled hers out and tried to dial again, as a test. It didn’t even have a tone; the symbol for the network didn’t appear, which meant it was down. She kept it open to the recent calls screen as she picked up one of the landlines, then used it to dial the number where her dad had called from yesterday. When she did, the line didn’t ring. It hissed, like air was leaking out of the handset.
“Dang it, nothing works,” she exclaimed.
“Nope. No surprises there. A few people have come in looking for help. I’ve had to turn them away. As you can see, I’m not taking any calls, either. It’s better if people know no one is coming, rather than taking their message and lie about help being on the way.”
Grace wasn’t sure about that, but she was certain they needed a plan. She glanced over her shoulder to Asher, who used his feet to drag glass out of the main walkway. He was a man who wanted to help, even if he was from the big city.
Would Mom like him?
She perked up at the random thought. Would her mother, a woman known for hating big-city life, like a guy who came from that world? Would she approve of her daughter dating such a person?
Dating?
“Ha!” she said out loud.
“What is it?” Asher asked with concern.
She turned to him again. “Oh, nothing. Half of my brain is still hiding back in the geyser shaft. The other half is thinking at a million miles an hour about all kinds of crazy thoughts. What we need right now is to take control of the crowd. That’s what the, uh, training videos showed us.” Her hesitation stemmed from the fact she wasn’t a full park ranger yet. On the plus side, the training films were still fresh in her mind. If she intended to wear the uniform, she had a duty to put those videos to good use and help the visitors.
“It would take every ranger in the National Park Service to control the hundreds of people out there.” Asher pointed through the broken windows.
“Well, I don’t think it will take quite that many, but it doesn’t matter—we don’t have the full force. It’s just going to be the three of us.”
Asher looked around. “Who are the other two?”
“Jeez. You two!” Grace pointed at both of them to be sure they understood.
Asher took it in stride, whereas Tessa didn’t seem overly excited at the prospect. “I’m only a dispatcher. I don’t have any authority other than answering phones.”
Grace straightened her hat. “As the senior-most ranger in this building, I’m deputizing both of you, so you can help me do my job. We’re going to announce the park is closed for the season and we’re going to push them out of the park.” The northern gate was only about five miles away.
“Can you do that?” Asher asked with surprise.
“She can,” Tessa answered.
“But…aren’t you, uh—” Asher stuttered.
“I’m on probation, yeah, but I don’t see anyone stopping me. Ask for forgiveness, right? Not permission. I’m giving myself permission to promote myself to full ranger. I’m giving you the authority to be a ranger, too.” She smiled. “Are you in?”
He shuffled one of his shoes in the shards of glass. “I’d love to help, but I don’t know anything about being a park ranger. You’ve seen me in the wild, right?”
“Oh, I know your background. To get through it, pretend the trees are buildings, the forest is the city, and the attractions here are fancy museums back there. It’s the people you need to worry about, and they’re the same as anywhere; they’re scared and need the appearance of someone in charge.”
He scratched the back of his neck. “Well, if you’re asking me to only give the appearance of being in charge, then I suppose I can do that. But what if they ask me tourist questions, like where stuff is or what kind of animal is biting them?”
She looked at Tessa. “Can I have the keys?” It was understood what she needed keys for. They both looked to the door at the back of the office.
The dispatcher paused for a moment, then pulled a small ring of keys out of her pocket. “It’s the one with the black markings.”
Grace ran to the back and got the door open. Before she went in, she looked back to Asher to answer his question. “If you ever get into trouble out there, just do what my dad taught me to do: make it up as you go!”
She ran into the armory.
Kentucky
The soaked ground made it a challenge to operate the tractor off the pavement, and the high water made it impossible to dig in his own yard, but he found a plot in a part of the common ground up the hill from Happy Cove Avenue. Ezra managed to dig a pit about five feet into the loose soil before he hit bedrock. Butch arrived about midway through to help clear some of it with a shovel. Then, before he had a chance to overthink it, Butch lifted Susan’s body, still in the cheery tablecloth, and respectfully walked her over to the edge.
Ezra’s only pause was to remove Susan’s diamond solitaire wedding ring, which she kept on a chain around her neck. She wore it that way, she’d told him, so if she ever got robbed again, it was harder to see than if she’d kept it on her finger. It was a result of the convenience store theft that so influenced their lives, but Ezra saw it as one of the many quirks he loved about her. He gave Susan a peck on the cheek, weeping openly for a couple of minutes.
“Thanks, Butch,” he said, to return to something normal. “You didn’t have to help me with this.”
“It was my honor, sir. I couldn’t bury my mom, so this helps. Sorry about your loss, by the way.”
“You, too,” he agreed.
Ezra rewrapped Susan tightly in the tablecloth, disappointed it was the best he could do for her, then fought more tears as he and Butch got her inside the hole.
Butch seemed to know what needed doing, so he jumped on the tractor before Ezra could get on it again. He looked down at him until Ezra tossed a handful of dirt in the hole. After a final nod, Butch pushed a large shovel-full of mud over the side. While the young man filled the hole, it gave Ezra time to pull himself together. He also latched the small gold chain around his neck, inside his shirt, so Susan’s ring hung close to his heart.
I’ll never stop missing you.
When Butch finished, he climbed off the tractor and stood next to the muddy patch of ground. He reverently held his cowboy hat across his chest, as if waiting for Ezra to speak.
In his head, he thought about delivering a long-winded eulogy to convey the depth and intensity of his love for his wife, but he didn’t have a clue how to do it. Susan was the bright center of his universe. What could he possibly say to do her any justice? Still, he had to try. He spoke quietly, whil
e looking down.
“I’ve got to leave you, now, Suze, but it’s for a good cause. I’m going to go and see our daughter. I’ll do everything in my power to keep her safe. Someday, if this disaster doesn’t go on for too long, I’ll bring her back to you. I love you, my wife.” For a few moments he stood there staring at the grave, but his eyes filled with painful memories, and he didn’t want to blubber again in front of Butch. A part of him wanted to clap one final time, but they’d already declared a tie in that game, and he didn’t want to go back on their agreement to share the victory. He also didn’t want to have to explain it all to Butch. Not so soon. Instead, he spun around and took charge of the tractor.
“Where are you going?” Butch asked before he could start it up.
“To put this away. Want to go with me up to the county road? I’m going to see if anyone can help Babs, uh, Brenda.”
“Don’t sweat it. I used some of my super-Army skills and cinched her arm in a sling. Then, on my way up here, I found some other residents and told them where she is. It should buy us some time until we can find legit help for her.”
She was probably turning the unsuspecting neighbors against him at that moment. He imagined her babbling about how he’d broken her arm during the rescue.
“Right, smart thinking. Help is only going to come from Fairdealing, a small town up the hill and around the corner. Plus, maybe some of the cars are working up yonder.” The cars and trucks of the neighborhood had been tossed over or destroyed by flying debris, but it couldn’t be like that everywhere. Eventually, he needed to find a working model so he could leave; the only thing that would keep him from thinking of Susan was his trip to see Grace.
Butch slapped his hat back on and picked up his rifle. “I’ll meet you up there.”
When he and Butch met at the top of the street, he noted the weird weather. While rays of sunshine poked out of the clouds to the south, it still rained heavily on the far shore of the lake. Lightning flashes sent claps of thunder over the unnaturally calm waters. Paducah still churned out black soot, like heavy factories spit pollution into the sky. Even the intense rains hadn’t put out all the fires there.
The dead traffic jam made the gloomy atmosphere seem worse. As they walked along the line of traffic, each gruesome detail stood out. The broken glass. The weird positions of cars, which had been shifted by the wind. The dead bodies inside a few of them.
Butch whistled in awe. “It looks like the highway of death.”
“Is that from the war in Afghanistan?” he asked, thinking it sounded like it.
“From the Gulf War against Iraq. The Iraqi forces tried to get out of Kuwait, but allied forces ripped ’em a new one. It was a four-mile-long turkey shoot along a flat, wide-open, desert highway. Burnt-out cars, trucks, and tanks were lined up, just like you see here—minus the tanks, of course.”
He shrugged and walked alongside the nearest car. “Let’s head toward town and see if anyone is left alive. There won’t be any ambulance service, though. We’d need a wrecker to clear out one of these lanes.” He already saw where he was going; “town” was less than a mile away.
The town of Fairdealing wasn’t even big enough to rate a stop sign, much less a stoplight. Four or five little buildings sat together along the country road. On one side, the red brick volunteer fire department building butted up against the wooden Baptist church. On the other side, a combination gas station and bait shop sat almost below the area’s water tower. The line of abandoned cars filed through what was left of the structures.
The church’s steeple was gone, as were the windows, leaving most of the rest of it intact. The fire station was also missing some windows, but the bricks appeared unharmed. The hundred-foot-tall water tower looked the same as it always did, but the mom-and-pop gas station building had almost entirely blown away. Three of the four fuel islands were still there, though the pumps themselves were bent over, as if debris had struck them.
“Let’s see if anyone knows what’s going on.” Ezra pointed to the fire station. Naturally, in any emergency situation, he expected people to go there, and even from a hundred yards away, he noticed the movement inside one of the opened garage doors. He started walking, then Butch grabbed his arm.
“Hey, it’s Army-skills time. We can’t walk in there like a couple of lost kids.” He spoke lower. “Not while we’ve got weapons…”
Ezra found it hard to believe what he’d heard. “Are you saying I should use my gun?”
Butch waved him off. “No, of course not. That’s not how I roll. What I’m saying is firepower will either cause people to freak out or chill out. It’s hard to know which. I saw this all the time over in those Afghani villages. They were poor people without a pot to piss in, but when they saw Americans, they wouldn’t give you a lick of respect unless you had a rifle. If you show weakness, you become prey, even if they pretended to like you the day before.”
Ezra slowly shook his head. “They probably gave you respect because you are about a hundred feet tall. I can’t imagine anyone not giving you a wide berth.”
“The AK-47 is the great equalizer over there. Doesn’t matter how big you are.”
“Same here,” he replied, catching on. “But it can’t be like that already. This is a national emergency, sure, but we’ve learned a few things since Hurricane Katrina. People aren’t going to be predatory. We’re from Kentucky, not like those people you saw in Baghdad.”
“That’s in Iraq,” Butch said dryly.
“What?”
“Baghdad is in the wrong country. You might have said Kandahar, Afghanistan. I’ve had the misfortune of having been there.” He smiled, which made Ezra relax. The young man still reminded him of Grace; they were approximately the same age. Their generation surprised him endlessly with how fast they moved from thought to thought without the emotional baggage he seemed to haul.
He pulled the Bushmaster off his shoulder and held it low in his arms. Were they really going to walk in like they owned the place? Was it already necessary to not show weakness? How could the young kid possibly know such things?
Ezra wasn’t an expert on prepping, but he couldn’t avoid picking up some of the basics while gathering his now-burned supplies over the past few years. He’d planned for social unrest, natural disasters, and everything in between. Would the world really be in such a bad state, like Butch thought? The devastation was terrible around Paducah…it couldn’t be so bad everywhere else. Finding out what was beyond his part of Kentucky as soon as possible was critical to his long-term survival, and, by extension, the survival of Grace.
He shifted his rifle, so the sling held it on his shoulder, while allowing him to angle it forward. After testing his ability to point the weapon in various directions, he let it fall a bit, so it wasn’t quite as threatening.
“Let’s get some answers.”
Chapter 4
Yellowstone National Park, WY
Grace stepped out of the front door feeling like she was the lead ranger for the entire National Park system. The police station had a little bit of everything, including clean uniforms. She’d replaced her filthy tan top with a new one, though she was careful to transfer her original NPS badge. It was tempting to take one of the law-enforcement wide-brimmed hats, except she preferred her lighter straw hat, despite the missing chunk. It was a reminder of what she’d been through.
“You guys ready?” She looked back to Tessa and Asher, stifling laughter. She couldn’t imagine a more awkward pair of rangers. The older woman worked as a civilian employee of the park service, but she wasn’t forward-facing, as they said in the biz. Her gruff demeanor and unkempt salt-and-pepper hair wouldn’t impress tourists at a campfire talk. She had to be coaxed into wearing the formal green and tan uniform. And Asher wasn’t any better. He tugged at his collar and constantly adjusted his big hat.
“You want me to take your picture?” she taunted, knowing how much he was cataloging his away-from-the-city adventure.
“No!” Asher chuckled. “I feel like I’m in a Halloween costume. How do you get used to looking like this?” He patted the park police model big black utility belt around his waist; it was outfitted with bear spray, a flashlight, a pouch for a Leatherman knife/pliers combo, and a Glock 22 with a spare fifteen-round mag of .40 caliber ammo.
She laughed, admiring the belt and gun on her hip, too. She kept Misha’s pistol in her front pocket, giving her two options if it was necessary to fight back. “Trust me, once you get out there and help some people, you’ll figure out that though you may look ridiculous, you’ll—” she cracked up and slapped her thigh. “I’m sorry! I can’t lie. You’re rocking the uniform. Please let me take your picture.” She reached for his wristwatch, reveling in the sarcasm.
“This was a practical joke, wasn’t it?” Asher asked dryly, half-turning to go back inside.
She caught him. “No! I’m sorry. I’m just having a little fun with you. God knows we need it. You look really good, actually. You clean up…” Grace didn’t want it to sound too personal, especially in front of Tessa. “Okay.”
Despite her restraint, it set off the older woman. “Sheesh. Get a room.”
Grace straightened up, at first embarrassed, then accepted she’d let herself get distracted. She centered herself by remembering the people milling about outside needed guidance. “Right. Let’s get in my truck and drive on the sidewalk to the junction over there. We’ll get everyone straightened out so they can follow us in their cars.”
It took an hour to get some semblance of a convoy together. Most people had been waiting at the visitors' center for guidance on where to go, and they also needed to get those tourists who’d gone off to the hot springs. Some visitors didn’t let broken boardwalks, a nearby forest fire, dead bodies, and multiple impacts of space debris mess up their vacation. After walking around the area, she figured out there were new water features and hot springs coming to life, probably created as a result of the earthquake-like rumbling the previous night. Getting there first, and sharing the videos with the world, drove some people to take risks.