No Ordinary Day by Tate, Harley (best large ereader .txt) 📕

tilled fields from scrub brush and weeds lining the ditch beside the road.

An old tractor perched, half rusted, on an outcropping for gravel and wildflowers. Emma turned to John. “How long do you think we have before Dane’s men find us?”

John glanced in the rearview mirror. “Optimistically, I’d like to think we’re too far away to be found.”

“But realistically?”

“I’d say we have a few weeks. If they don’t know about Holly’s mother—if she’s not on their radar—then we might have longer. They’ll be tracking us, but the trail will be cold by the time they find the cabin.”

“So, we might have longer.”

“I wouldn’t get cozy. Vince’s offer is nice, but—”

“It’s assuming too much.”

John nodded. “Even if we never hear from Dane again, which I doubt, do we want to put Holly in that constant state of danger by sticking around?”

Emma frowned at the map. Everything John said was true, but it still hurt to hear it out loud. She’d grown fond of Holly. She cared about the girl’s well-being, even if she couldn’t be a surrogate mother. “Do you think Vince will take Holly in?” She shifted on the seat. “She should be safe there without us, right? There’s no reason to kill her, if we aren’t there.”

John tightened his grip on the steering wheel. “I don’t know anymore, Emma. With what Nick said about Dane and the contract… I just don’t know.”

They drove the rest of the way in silence, Emma speaking up only when John needed fresh directions.

As they reached the farthest suburbs from Memphis, scenery shifted. Gone were the green fields and roadside flowers and in their place were signs of chaos and confusion. The burned-out husk of a gas station clung to the side of the road, heaps of metal and charred plastic piled like the remains of a fried chicken dinner.

Nothing remained of a local plumbing store except for the sign out front advertising blackout specials. Heaps of trash bags piled up outside a painted white concrete building. Emma leaned toward the window to read the sign.

Edward Benson and Sons.

Funeral Directors.

Emma swallowed hard. “I’m not sure heading toward Memphis is such a good idea.”

John nodded as he gripped the steering wheel with both hands. “I’m beginning to agree.”

Past the funeral director, an empty husk of a strip mall gaped and mawed, glass glittering across the pavement in the morning sun. The worst damage centered around a storefront on the end. Empty metal racks lay discarded in the entry, while half of the siding warped and rolled open to reveal a destroyed store. The store’s sign, broken in two in the parking lot: WIC Distribution Center.

Emma curled inward, wrapping her arms around herself. “There’s not going to be anything left. We’re too late.”

“Let’s drive a little further. There might be a place that’s still untouched.” John pressed on the gas, bypassing an abandoned vehicle here, a shuttered car wash there. As they neared a wider intersection, John slowed. On the driver’s side, graffiti covered the boarded-up windows of a store proclaiming “Discount Beer & Tobacco.”

“We might be able to break in there. See if there’s anything.”

John motioned to the other side. “I’m thinking here.”

Emma swiveled. “A pharmacy?”

“Judging by the looks of it, the place hasn’t been touched.” He pulled the Jeep into the lot, parking next to a bright blue PT Cruiser. “We should go together, but I need you to keep an eye on the parking lot. If anyone makes a move toward the vehicle, let me know.”

Emma nodded, nerves turning her palms clammy as she reached for the door handle. They stepped out into the sunshine and shut the doors. John hit the lock button and strode forward, rifle slung across his back. Beneath the green awning stretching across the low-slung building, a man leaned against the wall. A ball cap hid his eyes in shadow and he nodded at John. “You don’t look like a local.”

“We were hoping you all might still have some food available to purchase.”

“Don’t sound like a local, neither.” He bent and picked up a shotgun leaning against the wall.

Emma flashed a tight smile. “We’re from Atlanta, just passing through.”

The man whistled. “Ooh, them big-city types already filtering on down into us here little towns, trying to take what they think they deserve.” He spat a glob of brown liquid onto the ground. “Bout time you moved on, I think. Nothin’ for any city types in here.”

John palmed the rifle.

“Wouldn’t do that if I were you.” The man motioned behind them.

Emma turned to see a kid of no more than ten holding a knife to the front tire of the Jeep. “One word from me and that sweet ride of yours is nothing but a pretty little shed.”

“We should go.”

The man turned to Emma. “Aw, shucks, ma’am. I guess you do have some smarts.” His stare turned cold and she shivered. “I’d use them.”

She reached for John’s arm. “It’s not worth it.” He resisted as she pulled him toward the vehicle. “Come on. We can find somewhere else where they aren’t so unwelcoming.”

“Good luck with that, sweetie.” The man laughed and Emma turned around.

Anger boiled up within her, but she shoved it down. Nothing good would come of a fight with the guard. Besides, the local townspeople needed the medicine inside. She couldn’t fault them for hiring protection. The boy standing beside the Jeep ran at their approach.

John hit the unlock button on the key and tore the driver’s side door open. Emma hurried around to the passenger side as he revved the engine. Before she buckled her seat belt, John was off, driving back the way they came, away from Memphis and toward Holly and the others.

Emma leaned against the passenger-side door as she stared out at the town already so ravaged by crime and despair. “It’s never going to get better, is it?”

“Excuse me?’

“If it really will take years to rebuild, what chance do we have as a nation?” She turned to John. “People are already hungry.