“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
