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
