by Tate, Harley
“And John?”
“He’s still in play.”
“Are you?”
“Of course I am. Took a beating but I’m still here.” He sniffed. “I might have underestimated that woman, but Nick was right about John. He’s gone totally soft. Cross has him wrapped around her finger.”
“Then her fingers need to be broken. Find Cross, find John and the other researcher, and kill them.”
Willy protested. “It’s not going to be that easy. They’re at some farm and I can’t get a read on it thanks to the topography. For all I know there’s ten guys with machine guns in there.” He hesitated, but one glance in the rearview at his bandaged head and he pushed on. “I need some reinforcement.”
Laughter echoed across the line. “You’ll get no such thing.”
“But Uncle—”
“Was I wrong when I trusted you? Did I send a little boy to do a man’s job?”
Willy snuffed back the hurt and the blood clogging his nose. “I said I can do it.”
“Kill the women, kill John. Man up and get it done.”
“It’ll take some reconnaissance. I can’t just run in there without knowing what’s going on.”
“Do what you need to do, but soon. Is your sat phone in working order?”
“Yes, sir.”
“Then once you’ve secured the targets, call me and turn on the camera. We need video confirmation of the kills.”
Willy sucked in a deep breath. “Okay. I’ll do it.”
“That’s my boy.” His uncle’s voice warmed across the line. “I’m counting on you, son. There’s no more room for disappointment. Make me proud.”
The line went dead and Willy leaned back in the driver’s seat. I will make you proud, Uncle Dane. I will finish the contract. And I’ll make John pay.
Finally, he’d be out from under that man’s shadow. No more showing him up, no more perfect record. John would be nothing but a memory to his uncle and Willy could finally take his place. A warm and pleasant emptiness filled Willy’s mind as the pain meds took hold. No more worry, no more self-doubt. Only the promise of a fulfilled contract and a future where he never failed to measure up remained. Let’s do this.
He started the engine of the truck and eased up onto the road.
Chapter Twenty-Two
Raymond
“Over here is our current crop. Alfalfa was just planted and should be ready in a few months. We’ll need quite a bit of help at harvest time to preserve it over the winter since there’s no major processor to take it. Over here,” Vince turned and pointed at another field, “is our fallow field. We rotate every year or two to give the soil a chance to regenerate.”
It was a lot to take in. The only farm Raymond ever visited before now was a strawberry you-pick-it place Gloria cajoled him into visiting every spring. He ran a hand over his hair. “I’ll confess, I don’t know the first thing about what I’m looking at.”
Vince smiled. “It’s okay. I didn’t know anything about it when I was a kid, either. But I do now. And I can help you learn, assuming you’re willing to put in the work.”
Raymond wasn’t sure about anything. “Let me ask you something.”
Vince raised an eyebrow. “Go ahead.”
“Why did you take us in? Why are you telling me any of this?” He shook his head as he looked around. “We’re a bunch of strangers. Sure, Holly is with us, but we’ve got a pair of dogs, a pile of guns, and at least one guy with us even I don’t trust.”
“I take it that isn’t you?”
Raymond half smiled. “You know what I’m getting at.”
“I do.” Vince turned toward the house where the women were busy inventorying supplies and calculating days of food. He was silent so long, Raymond wondered if he’d overstepped. At last, his shoulders heaved. “Holly is Sandra’s daughter. She vouched for you, so I’m trusting her.”
“It’s that simple?”
“I don’t see why not.”
Raymond thought back over the course of the prior week and everything that had happened. Normal life seemed so far away. Trusting people because they seemed honest, or were family… He rubbed a thumb across his palm. “What happened around here when the power went out?”
Vince turned back toward the main house and pointed toward the far side. “We’ve got an automatic generator. It kicks on if the power goes out for more than half an hour. At first, we thought nothing of it. Happens often out here in high winds, storms, sometimes just for fun.
“When it was still out the next day, I hopped in my truck and drove to town. People were milling about and the mayor was in the town square trying to calm everyone down. Took me a while to ferret out the information, but one of the ladies at the local paper—writes the lifestyle section. Well, she’s always been friends with Sandra since we moved here. Tell the truth, I think they both like themselves a little too much brandy in the evenings.”
Raymond smiled.
“Anyway, she told me the word from the governor was that this was gonna be bad. It wasn’t some easy fix. Told me to get ready.”
“Did you?”
Vince kicked at a clump of dirt. “I’ll confess, I didn’t believe her. She’s always so melodramatic when she’s over with Sandy, talking with her hands about so-and-so’s divorce or what’s-her-name’s new front garden. I thought this was just another of Mary Ellen’s gossipy melodramas.”
“And now?”
He adjusted his hat, lifting the wide brim before snugging it back into place. “Since we have so much, it hasn’t really affected us. We’ve been eating out of the pantry, using the generator when we need to, just living life. Until you all showed up, I was beginning to think it was a big nothing burger.”
Raymond marveled. “It’s not like that in the big cities. Atlanta, where I’m from,” he shook his head, “it fell into chaos day one. Looting, traffic jams, accidents, stopped highways. It was madness.”
Vince whistled. “If the military doesn’t show up to restore order it’ll be a war zone.”
The thought soured Raymond’s stomach. “Even if they come, it’ll only be a temporary solution.”
Vince raised an eyebrow. “What aren’t you telling me?”
Raymond relayed what his former NASA client told him about the grid and the country’s inability to quickly rebuild.
Vince let out a low whistle. “Three years before the power grid can be restored?” He looked up at his crop of baby alfalfa in the field. “I assumed we’d have a hard year, gather the town together to share our resources over the winter and prep for a return to normalcy in the spring. But three years?”
“I don’t think anyone is prepared for how long this will go on.”
“We’ll need to reserve plenty of seed, conserve our supply of water and gas.” Vince pinched the corners of his mouth as he thought it over. “Now I’m even happier you all arrived when you did. Without the extra hands, there’s no way we could do it all. And if Memphis deteriorates like Atlanta…”
“Then you’ll need people to defend the place.”
“Exactly.”
The thought of turning into a bouncer in exchange for food and shelter didn’t sit well with Raymond. “Memphis is quite the drive. Any unrest might not reach Valleyville.”
“It’s not just Memphis I’m worried about.”
Raymond blinked. “The people in town?”
“You don’t know the half of it. My grandfather practically founded Valleyville. When he opened his processing plant, all the pig farmers in the state began to haul their pigs here to be slaughtered. He employed practically every able-bodied teenage boy and man in town.”
Vince shook his head in disgust. “Kept the good-for-nothings employed, too. The drunks, the lazy folk who’d rather cheat than work an honest day, all of them. When my father took over, he said it was our obligation to keep the town afloat. Drove my mother crazy.”
“But you don’t?”
“When my father died,” Vince shook
his head. “I was twenty years old, full of myself and my great ideas. Thought all this town ever did was hold me back. But when my mother called, told me Daddy had a heart attack right out there in the middle of the field, I came back.”
“That had to change a few things.”
Vince nodded. “My mother, poor woman. My father had been her whole world. She just couldn’t get out of bed after the funeral. Died within the year.”
“I’m sorry.”
“After they were gone, I didn’t see the purpose or the point of keeping the business. Sold it to some big company who came in and modernized the plant. Fired half the people. Made myself a few enemies in town, if you know what I mean.”
Raymond understood. If townspeople held a grudge and still blamed Vincent for selling, they would be all too eager for revenge. “I appreciate your candor.”
“It’s the least I can do. If you’re going to stay here, you need to make that choice eyes wide open.”
“About that.” Raymond glanced up at the sky, searching for the right words. “I don’t know if you’ve noticed, but John. He’s not exactly one of my favorites.”
Vince chuckled. “I did notice you two don’t get along real well.”
“That’s an understatement.” Raymond filled him, in explaining Emma and Gloria’s jobs at CropForward, the hit on Zack, and their attempted assassination at the cabin, highlighting John’s role in all of it.
“So, you’re sure he’s changed his mind? He’s not going to kill your wife?”
“Honestly, I have no idea. But Emma trusts him and so does Gloria. I don’t have a whole lot of choice in the matter.”
Vince nodded. “Thank you for telling me.”
As they both stared out at the afternoon sun, a horn blared from the road. Raymond squinted against the light, picking out a Jeep against the backdrop of the fields.
“Is that?”
Raymond’s heart gave a start. “Emma’s behind the wheel.”
“I don’t see John anywhere.”
“Neither do I.” Raymond took off, jogging toward the road as the Jeep approached. He waved Emma down and the Jeep squealed to a stop beside the ditch.
Emma buzzed the window down. Blood smeared across her cheek. “Oh thank God, Ray. John’s hurt real bad. He’s lost a lot of blood.”
Raymond stepped past her to peer through the back window. John sprawled out unconscious on the backseat, pant leg soaked in blood.
“What the heck happened?” Vince caught up, panting and out of breath.
“A man ambushed us on the road. One of the company’s men.”
Raymond cursed. “How did they find you?”
“I’m not sure. I didn’t hear their argument. John tried to kill him, but they fought.” Her words warbled as emotion clogged her throat. “He was stabbed at least once, maybe twice, I don’t know.”
“How did you get away?”
She flashed a tight smile. “I got friendly with a crowbar. I’m pretty sure the guy’s dead, but more are probably coming. We need John.”
“Emma—”
She reached out the window and grabbed Raymond’s forearm. “We need him alive.”
“If he saved your life, then I agree,” Vince offered. “He needs all the help we can give.”
Raymond frowned in annoyance. Why was he the only one still unsure where John’s loyalties lie?
Emma squeezed his arm harder. “Raymond, please. I’m begging you. You’ve got to help him.”
He exhaled, thick and heavy. “I can’t make any promises.”
Vince motioned toward the vehicle. “Raymond, you ride with Emma. I’ll circle back and get Cornflower. We can leave the four-wheeler for now. Go straight to the main house. Tell Sandra I said it was okay. We’ve got running water and electricity. Take whatever you need.”
“Thank you, Vince.” Emma smiled at him as Raymond hurried around to hop into the passenger seat. As soon as he shut the door, Emma punched the gas.
Chapter Twenty-Three
Holly
The stiff bristle brush ran through the horse’s fur and Holly smiled. She’d always wanted to learn how to ride—her father talked about his adventures on his family’s farm when he was a kid—but she’d never had the chance. The horse sidestepped as she paused and Holly picked up the pace, brushing the older mare as she spoke softly to her.
“Any chance you’ll let me hop on you and go for a ride?”
The horse snorted and Holly ran her hand across her fur. The muscles rippled beneath her touch. The horse’s ears flicked forward and moments later, Vince rode in, horse snorting and kicking up a cloud of dust. He dismounted with a scowl.
“Everything okay?”
Vince started, unaware of Holly’s presence. All at once he softened. “Holly, thank goodness. Can you take Cornflower to the water trough around the side? She needs a drink. Just put her back in the stall when she’s done.”
“What about her saddle?”
Vince turned toward the main house. “Leave it on for now. I don’t have time to deal with it.”
“Are you sure everything is okay?”
“It’s nothing for you to worry about. I need to find Sandra, that’s all.” He flashed her a pained smile. “Trouble with one of the fields. You’ve got this, right?”
Holly took the leather reins with a nod and Vince jogged out of the barn. He seemed like such a good man. How had her mother ever found someone like him?
She reached up and rubbed Cornflower’s neck. “Thirsty? Let’s get you some water.” She led the horse out of the barn and around toward the water trough. The horse pulled her the last ten feet, dipping her head to get at the water as quickly as possible. Holly tugged on her sweatshirt sleeve. Something didn’t seem right.
Why would Vince rush out of the barn over a problem with the fields? And why would her mother even care? She wasn’t the farming sort when Holly was little and it didn’t appear anything had changed. After a few minutes, Cornflower turned and gave Holly’s hand a nuzzle. “All done?”
The horse whinnied and Holly led her the long way around, skirting the edge of the main house before she planned to loop back toward the barn. As she slipped behind the side of the house, Cornflower’s tail swishing against the shrubs, the front door slammed open.
“You can’t be serious!” Her mother’s voice sliced across the yard.
Holly froze.
“There’s no need to shout.”
“Yes, there is! First you let these people stay the night, then you talk about letting them live here, now there’s blood all over the carpet! This has to stop. Now.”
“They need our help.”
“No, they don’t! They can find someone else to take advantage of down the road. Not us.”
“What about Holly?”
Holly swallowed.
“What about her?”
“She’s your daughter.”
“I don’t see what that has to do with anything.”
Vince lowered his voice and Holly strained to listen. “I understand if you don’t want Raymond and the other adults to stay, but Holly is family. She’s polite, and kind, and she’s already helping with the horses without being asked.”
“I don’t care if she’s the second coming of Mother freakin’ Teresa and she’s out there curing lepers. I want her, and the rest of her group, gone.”
Vince might have been kind, but her mother’s words punched deep in Holly’s gut. She clutched at her middle.
“You can’t mean that, sweetheart. She’s your daughter. Your own flesh and blood.”
“And I wish like hell she weren’t. Every time I look at that girl, all I see is her good-for-nothing father. Do you know what he promised me before we married? That’s he’d be a doctor for goodness sakes. A real M.D. with patients and everything.”
“So?”
“He ended up a research scientist at some stupid corporation instead, spending all day running experiments on lab rats.” Her voice edged higher. “R
ats, Vince.”
“I don’t see what the problem is. The way Emma and Gloria describe it, he was doing valuable work.”
“That’s not the point! He could have been the head of a hospital or a plastic surgeon. He had the grades to become anything he wanted, but when I got pregnant,” she almost spat the word, “he said he didn’t want to be absent from our child’s life. Said residency would be too intense, too many hours. He’d never see his kid grow up. So, he dropped out. Got a job, instead.” Her voice cracked. “We could have had the world.”
“You had a daughter.”
“Exactly.”
Holly’s stomach lurched and she fought the urge to be sick. Tears came hot and fast, welling up behind her eyes.
“I never wanted children, Vince. You know that. It was always supposed to be about us, not some little crying thing that woke us up and demanded our attention. Holly ruined everything.”
“You don’t mean that.”
“Yes, I do.”
Holly wiped her cheeks as the tears kept flowing. She’d always known her mother didn’t like her, but this was beyond dislike. This was hate. She blamed Holly for everything.
After a minute of silence, Vince spoke again. “So, all this time… All these years when I’d ask if you wanted Holly to visit, to come for the holidays or stay for the summer and you told me she wasn’t interested. That her dad refused to allow it. That wasn’t true, was it?”
Vince’s words were laced in disgust. “It was you. You pushed away your own daughter. Your own flesh and blood.”
His tone gave little comfort to Holly. Cornflower nuzzled her in the side and Holly ran an absentminded hand down the horse’s side.
“I don’t know you, Sandra. I don’t think I know you at all.”
“Make her leave, Vince. Make them all leave. Do it today or so help me, we’re through.”
Vince began to argue, but Holly couldn’t listen to another word. Without thinking, she shoved her foot in the stirrup, swung her leg over Cornflower’s back, and flicked the reins like she’d seen Vince do that morning. “Go, Cornflower. Get us away from here.”
