by Tate, Harley
The more he thought about everything that had happened, the more Nick’s words rushed through his head, the more adamant John grew. “This isn’t a minor hit anymore. The stakes are too high and the payoff too great for Dane to give up. He won’t stop until Emma, Gloria, and anyone who defends them are dead.”
John’s breath came hot and hard as he sucked air into his lungs. A tirade hadn’t been his intention, but it’s what came out. He was done holding back to protect his precarious situation. If they refused to listen…
Raymond gripped the back of the kitchen chair, nails digging into the lacquered wood. “Everything we’ve worked for is here. What we’ve assembled can sustain us for years. I can’t leave it.”
John turned to Emma, hoping she would understand. She witnessed Dane’s men firsthand and saw the destruction at Zach’s place. “You know staying is suicide.”
Emma wrapped her good arm around her middle. “Will it make any difference if we leave? If they are hell-bent on finding us, then running only delays the inevitable, doesn’t it?”
Gloria leaned forward, propping her elbows on the kitchen table. “We survived this attack. Can’t we survive another?”
John twisted around and pain shot through his side. He bit back a wince. “You were lucky this time, that’s all. Simpson was inexperienced, a relative newbie, and Dane underestimated the pair of you. It won’t happen again. When Nick fails to check-in…” John shook his head. “Dane will be furious. He’ll come down heavy and fast. He won’t make the same mistake twice.”
Emma stared at John, eyes pleading for another option. He didn’t have any. As he stared out at all their faces— Raymond’s deep scowl, Gloria’s indecision, Emma’s begging—anger welled up inside him.
The room fell into uncomfortable silence. The longer it stretched the harder John found it to breathe. Ever since the power went out in the elevator, he’d been surrounded by people who refused to face the facts, refused to accept reality, who always second-guessed his decisions, or faulted him for making tough choices. Well, forget it. Forget it all.
Without another word, he stormed over to the kitchen and slammed open a drawer. He pulled out a steak knife and turned toward the master bedroom, narrowly missing Raymond’s shoulder as he ducked inside. The knife sawed through the plastic zip ties lashing Nick’s lifeless body to the chair, and as the last one gave way his friend tumbled forward. John crouched and tucked his shoulder beneath Nick’s arm before staggering upright. Pain radiated from his wounded side, focusing his attention and dulling the anger.
He emerged from the bedroom with his heavy, awkward load, and half-stumbled toward the front door. “Where’s the other body?” he asked, as he hovered on the threshold.
Gloria pointed northwest. “About a hundred yards past the wood pile into the trees. He’s dressed all in black, but you should be able to find him.”
John nodded his thanks before stepping out into the afternoon sun. It didn’t take long to find Simpson’s remains. A crow perched on the edge of the dead body and John shooed it away as he dumped Nick on the ground. His head lolled to the side, vacant eyes open and unseeing.
Crouching in front of the two bodies, John stared past them into the forest. A wind rippled a branch, sending lime-colored leaves fluttering in all directions. Nature didn’t care about John, the bodies at his feet, or the boss he used to think of as a father. He pressed his palms against his closed eyes until the world faded into spots floating across a sea of black.
What am I doing? He dropped his hands and stared at the blood crusted across Nick’s shirt. They had laughed together, fought side-by-side, been almost as close as brothers. Even after returning to the states, Nick stuck by him. Always around when he needed a friendly face at the bar, never one to tell him to stop or get over himself.
But then Dane came along and everything shifted. Slowly at first—conflicting schedules here, last-minute assignments there. John frowned. When was the last time he’d sat around with Nick and been himself? Two years? Three?
He swiped a hand down his face. Dane siloed each one of them, trapping them into their own private echo chambers of guilt and remorse and efficiency. He’d never stopped to think about it before. The loneliness of the job. The horrors he’d kept to himself. John rocked back on his heels. It had been so long since he’d made a single decision for himself. So long since his daily life wasn’t planned out—bouncing from one assignment to another, home just long enough to regroup.
Had Nick been as isolated? As alone? John turned back to stare in the direction of the cabin, unsure of his next move.
Emma barely tolerated him. Gloria was indifferent, and Raymond hated his guts. Only Holly seemed to genuinely want him around, but she had no choice, teenagers never did. And what would he do with a fifteen-year-old and a dog? John was no father.
He stood in a rush and the forest floor spun in his vision. Dane would kill him so much as look at him. He not only failed the mission, but he failed Nick and Simpson. It didn’t matter if John changed his mind, or apologized, or even carried out the job. He was as good as dead.
What did that leave? A solitary existence, always on the run, trying to outlive whatever apocalyptic landscape the country devolved into? Leaving Emma and everyone else to their deaths?
He held his head in his hand. If they wouldn’t listen, his choice was already made. They rejected me, not the other way around. He kept talking to himself, convincing the part of his brain that still cared to leave and never look back. Even if it guaranteed Emma’s death, leaving was the right call. He closed his eyes and took a deep breath.
Something cold and wet nosed his hand. John jumped, almost falling over as Tank barreled into him. “What are you doing here?”
Tank nuzzled him again, adding in a head butt to his thigh as he forced his nose beneath John’s hand.
“I thought you were in the cabin, resting.”
Tank stepped back, favoring his left front paw, and John’s chest constricted. “Did you… miss me?”
The dog wagged his tail and barked a single time. John’s mouth fell open. A dog shouldn’t be the tipping point, especially not one he’d only met a few days before, but as Tank leaned against his side, staring up with his dark chocolate eyes, John changed his mind.
He couldn’t leave Emma and the others even if they hated him, even if he only prolonged the inevitable. Emma saved his life and he owed her a chance to keep breathing. He gave Tank a scratch behind the ear. “Thanks, buddy, for reminding me what matters.”
John bent back toward the ground, taking the opportunity to search Nick and Simpson for anything useful the women might have missed. He retrieved a small multi-tool, a tracker, and most importantly, a key fob for a Jeep. John broke the tracker in two, bending until the circuits inside snapped, before turning to Tank with a grin.
He waggled the key fob in front of the dog’s nose. “I know you’re hurt, so I’ll take it slow, but are you ready to go hunting?” Tank wagged his tail in approval, and they set off together, heading deeper into the forest.
Chapter Eleven
Emma
“He wouldn’t have gotten so angry if you at least entertained the idea instead of shouting him down.” Emma leaned back in the chair, frustration with Raymond growing by the minute.
“Leaving here because the hitman hired to kill you tells us it’s a good idea is not necessarily a good strategy. Has anyone thought of that? Maybe it’s exactly what they want. Maybe he’s leading us straight into a trap.”
“It’s lucky we’re not dead already, hon,” Gloria offered. “You’re just too stubborn to admit it.”
Raymond pressed his lips together, breathing hard through his nose. “We worked for years on this cabin. Now you want to leave everything behind?”
“It’s not necessarily forever.” Emma leaned forward, the spark of an idea growing. “At some point they will have to quit. Either everyone after us will be dead or the contract will be called off. With the power gr
id collapse, they can’t go on forever.”
“What’s your point?”
She indulged Raymond with a smile. “Your cabin will still be here, waiting.”
Raymond thought it over. “It still doesn’t give us anywhere to go,” he said at last.
“I might have a place,” Holly volunteered.
Emma turned to the girl with one eyebrow raised.
Holly tugged the sleeves of her sweatshirt down over her knuckles. “My mom lives in Mississippi with my stepdad. He’s got a pretty big place. A couple hundred acres, a guest house, the whole nine.”
“And you’re just mentioning this now, because?”
The girl shrunk even further into her sweatshirt and focused on the table. “My mom... my mom and I don’t exactly get along. She won’t be happy to see me.”
“Did you two have a falling out? Something recent?”
Holly shook her head without looking up. “When my mom and dad broke up, she wanted nothing to do with us. I think she thought I’d only get in the way.”
Emma’s heart went out to the poor girl. Not only did she have to deal with a murdered father and a mother who didn’t care, but she offered to wade into that quagmire on their behalf.
Gloria leaned across the table and gave Holly’s arm a squeeze. “I appreciate the offer, but we can’t ask you to do that. It’s not fair.”
Holly lifted her eyes for the first time since speaking up. “I wouldn’t have offered if I didn’t think it through. It’s the best place to go. They live all by themselves in the nicest house on the edge of this tiny town in the middle of Mississippi. Vincent, my stepdad, his family ran a meat processing plant that employed the whole town and the next one over. He’s retired now—whole outfit was bought by some mega-company for some outrageous sum. They have more than enough to share.”
“I don’t know.” Emma shook her head. No matter how much Holly pushed the idea, it didn’t seem right.
Gloria turned to Emma. “Holly’s right. It’s the best chance we’ve got. Besides, we’re not coming empty-handed. We can bring all the food we can fit in the vehicles. We’re prepared to work, too. It won’t be like we showed up to mooch. We can even take turns watching the place, standing guard, whatever it is they need.”
Emma turned back to Holly. “Do you really think they’ll take us in?”
“It’s worth a shot. Once Mom hears about Dad, maybe—” Holly broke off, pressing her fist against her lips.
Emma smiled in sympathy. “You have a point.” She turned to Raymond. “What do you think? Does that satisfy your concerns?”
He ran a hand over his hair. “I still don’t think we should leave.”
Gloria looked up at her husband. “I know you don’t want to hear this, but I don’t think we have a choice.”
“You’re okay with it?” Raymond stared slack-jawed at his wife. “Leaving everything we have to drive to the middle of nowhere Mississippi?”
“I like it better than sitting here and waiting for someone else to show up to kill me.” Gloria leaned back and crossed her arms. “At least Mississippi will give us an opportunity to regroup. They were never after Holly, only Zach. They probably don’t even know where his ex-wife lives. Without the grid, without the Internet, it might take them a lot longer to find us out there.”
Raymond softened and held up a hand before Gloria talked over him. “Okay, I get it. It’s better than staying here. But we need to pack smart. Fit as much as we can in the Explorer.”
“What about my Highlander?”
“Windows busted. Not secure. One hard rain and everything inside is mush.”
Gloria cast a worried glance about her. “We’ll never fit all the food and us in your car.”
“I know.”
Raymond stepped into the kitchen area, surveying the stacks of provisions. “We should concentrate on everything calorically dense. Bars, canned protein, whatever we have that will give us the most calories in the smallest package.” He reached for a case of soup and hoisted it up. “Everything like this,” he shook his head, “we’ll have to leave behind.”
“Where?” Gloria asked.
He cast a glance about him. “A couple of our closets are mostly empty. We can stack everything inside and make it look like we never showed up at all. If someone breaks in, maybe they’ll give up and move on.”
“You really think that’ll work?”
“I don’t have any idea, but we can’t just leave it all stacked in plain sight. One look through the window and this place will be ransacked.”
Emma agreed. “We can hide everything as best we can and hopefully that will keep most people at bay.”
Raymond set the soup at the bottom of the linen closet before turning to the cans of chicken. “Let’s stack all these in the back of the Explorer. As many as will fit. Water, too.”
They did as he suggested, stacking the high-value items in the back of the SUV all the way to the ceiling. Emma broke down the cases when no more would fit and shoved individual cans and bottles of water in every nook and cranny. It didn’t take long to fill the vehicle.
Gloria flopped into an Adirondack chair at the edge of the fire pit, frustration plain. “We can make it to Mississippi with what’s in the Explorer, but what if Holly’s family refuses to let us stay? It won’t be long until we’re going hungry.” She turned back to stare at the cabin. “All that meat Ray just bought—it would have lasted a month or more smoked.” She tucked an errant lock of hair behind her ear and turned back around. “Maybe he’s right. Maybe we should stay and take our chances.”
Emma dragged a chair over to Gloria and perched on the edge. “You remember what John said. Someone will come. It might not be today or tomorrow, but it will be soon. We have an empty revolver, a shotgun that’s probably rusted beyond repair, and two pistols with a handful of bullets each. We were lucky this time. I don’t think we will be again.”
Gloria slumped back in the chair. “I know you’re right.” She turned to Emma. “But I’m scared. What if leaving only makes everything worse?”
Emma reached out her hand and Gloria grabbed it, squeezing hard. “Never in a million years did I think this would happen.”
“The EMP or the hit on our lives?”
Emma almost laughed. “When you say it out loud…” She didn’t finish the thought, but Gloria nodded in understanding. They weren’t spies or terrorists trying to destroy a country. They were ordinary women, working ordinary jobs. Whistleblowers, sure, but not enemies of the state. Not worthy of a bullet.
Holly emerged from the house, wiping sweat from her brow. “We’ve tucked away everything. If someone looks through the windows, all they’ll see is an empty cabin.”
Gloria smiled in thanks.
“Raymond is hauling the meat out into the forest. He thinks maybe a coyote or a possum will eat it. Better than leaving it to rot.”
“Thank you for all of your hard work today,” Gloria offered.
Holly’s brow furrowed. “I’m sorry you have to leave so much behind. I know you worked hard to get it all.”
“It’s not your fault. Emma and I are who these men are after, not you.”
Emma chimed in. “Gloria’s right. Not only have you helped today, but you’ve given us a fighting chance. You’ve given us a place to go where we might be safe for a little while.”
Holly nodded, but Emma wasn’t sure she bought their praise. For the teenager’s sake, Emma hoped Holly’s mom wasn’t as disinterested as Holly believed. Emma was no mother. Holly’s mom might not win a parenting award, but she was family. If Emma and Gloria were forced to stay on the run, maybe Holly could find a new home in Mississippi. Somewhere safe where she could start again.
“Raymond’s just about ready. He asked us to do a final walk-through and get the dogs.” Holly turned toward the cabin and Emma watched her go, silhouette blending into the increasing darkness.
Gloria stood and Emma followed a few steps behind. As they stepped inside the cab
in, Raymond emerged from the bathroom, wiping his hands on a towel. “I think that’s everything.”
Pringles ran in a circle around Gloria’s feet, yipping, and she scooped the little dog up. “Then we should find Tank.”
Holly rushed into the main living area from the bedroom. “I can’t find him. He’s not in the bedroom where I left him, and he wasn’t outside.”
Emma stepped out onto the porch and cupped her hands around her mouth. “Tank! Tank, here boy!” She waited, squinting against the fading light. “Tank!” She called a few more times, but no responding bark reached her ears. She ducked back inside as worry settled low in her gut. “Tank’s not responding.” She glanced at Raymond, anticipating his response to her next observation. “And John’s not back, either.”
Raymond rolled his eyes as Emma expected. “We aren’t waiting for John.”
“But we are waiting for Tank.” Holly crossed her arms in classic teenage fashion. “I’m not leaving without him and I’m the only one who knows where we’re going.”
Raymond cursed beneath his breath and Holly’s lower lip jutted out as if she were about to cry. Emma looked at both of them, worry growing by the minute. She stepped up, waiting until both turned in her direction. “We can wait a little while, can’t we? Maybe Tank just needed to go to the bathroom. We can spread out and try to find him.”
Raymond focused on his watch. “Sunset was five minutes ago. If we don’t find him soon, we’ll have to wait until morning to leave.”
“Is that wise?” Gloria pulled her jacket tighter as she glanced at the forest beyond the open cabin door. “John made it sound like we needed to leave ASAP.”
“Then where is he?” Raymond threw out a hand. “If it’s so important, then he would be here, pacing and cursing and generally being the charming killer that he is.”
