by Tate, Harley
Tangled brown hair emerged and a dirty face followed. “Amicalola.”
John lowered his weapon and shifted the phone to aim at the ceiling.
“That’s right.” Emma stepped forward, one hand outstretched, and coaxed the girl out of hiding.
As the blanket fell to the floor, a spit of a girl emerged. No taller than Emma’s shoulder, she wiped at her stained cheeks with the back of her hand. “Did you find my dad?”
Emma nodded.
“What about the guy who killed him?” John tried to keep his voice gentle. It wasn’t his strong suit. “What did he look like?”
Holly cast an uneasy glance in his direction, but didn’t shrink back in terror. “A video game.” She snuffed back a glob of snot. “All tactical gear and a fancy gun. It didn’t make a sound when he shot my dad.” Her voice broke on the last words and Emma wrapped her in a fierce hug.
A string of choice adjectives unfurled in John’s mind. This was why he preferred to keep things distant and clean. No collateral. No witnesses. It’s how everyone in his organization operated, except one. Willy. John’s jaw popped from tension.
Instead of hearing about her father’s death from the police or family, Holly witnessed it. She would never be the same. He holstered his weapon and took a step forward. He might be a heartless hired gun when it came to his targets, but innocent collateral stuck in his craw.
Until he knew the location of Gloria Sanchez, he was now stuck with Emma and a snot-nosed teenager. One he didn’t want to kill. He stuck out his hand. “Hi, Holly. I’m John. It’s nice to meet you.”
Chapter Eight
Emma
“I don’t know what to do.” Holly teetered on the edge of another round of tears.
Emma couldn’t imagine what the teenager was going through. Not even sixteen, no mom, now no dad. Did she have any other family? Emma ran a hand over the girl’s matted hair. “Do you have any family in town? An aunt? Uncle?”
Holly shook her head. “It was just me and Dad.” She glanced up at Emma with red rimmed eyes. “We didn’t even have a cat.”
Emma pressed her lips together and glanced at John. He’d been willing to help so far, but adding a teenager to the mix was a whole different ball of wax.
As if he’d read her mind, John stepped forward. “I know this is overwhelming, but you should come with us.” He waited until Holly looked him in the eye. “It’s not safe for anyone to stay here.”
Holly paled. “But what about Dad? We can’t leave him up there on the floor just—” She broke off, unable to say the words.
Emma corralled her in a hug, tucking her chin over Holly’s head. As much as she wanted to stay there, comfort Holly, and figure out the best thing to do, they had more pressing concerns. “John is right. If the same people who were following Gloria also came after your dad, then this is more serious than you know.”
Holly pulled away and swiped a hand beneath her snotty nose. “I don’t understand. How can it be worse? My Dad’s dead. His blood is all over the kitchen floor.”
Keeping her tone even, Emma tried to convey the truth, but not frighten the girl any further. “It might be because of our testimony next week. CropForward could be trying to silence us. If so, they might be after you, too.”
Holly sniffed. “How is it safe to go with you, if you’re also in trouble?”
“Because she isn’t alone. She has me.”
John’s support caught Emma off guard. Driving her to Zach’s place was one thing, but sticking by even with a newly orphaned teenager in the mix? Why would he do that? She was about to ask, but forced herself to stop. Don’t look a gift horse in the mouth, Emma. Holly needed her attention, not irrational doubts. She smiled in appreciation at John before turning back to Holly.
The girl was so young and so devastated. Emma softened her tone. “I never said it wouldn’t be dangerous, but you need to get out of here. We both do.” She glanced up at John, hoping what she said next wouldn’t rub him the wrong way. “We don’t have to go to my apartment. We can hide out in a hotel somewhere or we can find Gloria. Her cabin’s pretty remote, but I should be able to navigate by landmarks. I’ve been there once or twice.”
“Good idea,” John offered. “If she’s also a whistleblower, then she’s in trouble whether she knows it or not.”
Emboldened by his support, Emma took a chance. “Could you drive us there?”
John half-shrugged. “I don’t see why not.”
Holly began to protest, her voice rising as she spoke. “That guy who broke in didn’t care about my dad or what he had to say or any of it! He spouted this crazy talk about how it wasn’t CropForward after Dad at all, but the government!”
“What?” Emma shook her head. “That makes no sense.”
“You’re telling me! Why would the government send some scary dude straight out of Call of Duty to kill a boring old guy like my dad? He didn’t even follow politics!” She pouted in defiance, but her red nose and swollen eyes made her seem more like a disappointed child than a teenager.
“It’s not just the man who killed your father, Holly.” John moved his phone around, reminding them all about the lack of electricity. “The power is out and it’s looking like more than an isolated blackout.”
Holly shifted her feet. “What do you mean?”
Emma tried to explain. “The power is out from where I’m working now on the westside all the way over here to Sandy Springs. It’s way larger than anything I’ve ever seen. No radio stations are coming in and the one we heard—” Emma passed. Should she tell the truth?
“It made it sound like the entire southeastern United States is dark.” John stepped closer. “If that’s true, then it might be days or weeks before the power is restored. You can’t stay here that long with no electricity.”
“Can, too.” Holly crossed her arms.
Emma smiled despite the situation. “Think about it. You won’t have a refrigerator or hot water for the shower or any light at night. Whatever is going on is even bigger than CropForward and whoever they’ve sent to take care of us.”
Holly dropped her arms.
“You should pack a bag.” Emma gave Holly’s shoulder an encouraging squeeze. “Anything you’d like to take, okay?”
“We should hurry,” offered John. “The man who killed Zach could be on his way to Gloria.”
Emma pulled away from Holly and the girl hurried up the basement stairs. A gasp sounded from the landing and Emma winced, remembering Zach’s body. “I shouldn’t have let her go alone.”
“She’ll be fine.” John motioned toward the stairs. “We need to get up there and keep an eye out.”
Emma nodded before following him up into the kitchen where Zach’s body still lay. Thoughts of leaving him alone and exposed, growing colder by the minute, made her shudder. But what choice did they have? Burying him wasn’t an option with a murderer on the loose and neighbors probably home from work and all too eager to snoop.
She could see it now: the pair of them digging a grave in the backyard as Harvey from one house over stopped by with a cold beer. He’d been a real talker at one of Zach’s barbecues, regaling her with stories of his rifle collection in the corner of the backyard. Not someone she wanted to meet over a dirt hole in the ground and Zach’s corpse. She shuddered. “We can’t leave him like this.”
John stood at the kitchen window, watching the street. He didn’t turn. “We can cover him with a sheet. There’s no time to do any more.”
So matter-of-fact. So cold. Emma tilted her head. “What kind of work did you do?”
“I don’t follow.”
“Before you were terminated, what did you do?”
John’s jaw ticked. “Financial audit.”
“Really? It’s just—” John turned to face her, brown eyes narrowed in what Emma took for irritation. She held up a hand. “Sorry. It’s not any of my business.” Keep him on your side, idiot. You need him. Annoying her sole source of transportation and securi
ty wasn’t a smart move. “Could we stop by my place before heading to Gloria’s?”
“What for?”
“I have a bit of money. Cash. It’s not much, but it’s better than nothing.”
John leaned back against the counter. “I have cash.”
Emma’s cheeks heated. The whole conversation reminded her why she didn’t date. “I thought I could pay you for your time. You got me out of the elevator, now you’ve driven me here, confronted… everything, and now you’re offering to take me and a teenager two hours north.”
“Are you done?”
Emma swallowed.
“Like I told you before, I don’t have anything else to do. I haven’t worked in six months, I don’t have any family. Hell, like Holly, I don’t even have a cat. There’s no one waiting for me.” He pushed off the counter and his voice lost the hard edge. “This is the first time in a long time I’ve been useful.”
“I appreciate it, really, I do, but are you sure? You could just drop us at my apartment. I could rent a car or a cab or an Uber.”
John snorted out a laugh. “I don’t think there will be any Ubers anytime soon.”
He had a point. Still, she didn’t like taking advantage. “Thank you.”
“For what?”
She practically gawked. How could he not understand? “For everything? For helping me and Holly and hopefully Gloria. You’ve probably saved our lives.”
Before she even finished, John twisted back to the window and gripped the counter with both hands.
Emma faltered. “Did I say something wrong?”
John replied without turning around. “There must be sheets down the hall. I’ll go look. You pack the food. Shouldn’t let it go to waste.” He strode from the kitchen without another word.
Emma stood in the spot he’d left her, staring at his wake. What had she said to make him so angry? She ran her tongue over her lips, catching it on dry, cracked skin. The water in the break room had barely quenched her thirst and now it was early afternoon. When was the last time she’d eaten? Breakfast?
She turned toward the fridge. Raiding Zach’s home didn’t sit well, but John was right. Leaving everything was pointless. She glanced at Zach’s body, still sprawled out across the room. “I’m sorry I didn’t get here sooner. I should have known.” She swallowed and opened the fridge. “I’ll take care of Holly. I promise.”
It didn’t take long to empty the kitchen. Emma tried to ignore her friend’s body as best she could as she piled up food he’d purchased, never expecting to die in his kitchen a few days later. Crackers, chips, snack bars and Gatorade. Lunchmeat, cheese, a bag of apples. All shoved into reusable shopping bags and a backpack cooler she found in the pantry.
As she topped off the last bag with a stack of napkins, John emerged from the hall rolling two suitcases. Emma cocked her head. “Going on a vacation?”
“Blankets, pillows, extra socks.” John rattled off the list like it should be obvious. “We don’t know how bad traffic will be or what we’ll find at your friend’s place. We might need to sleep in the car.”
Emma blinked. Traffic hadn’t occurred to her at all. If the blackout spanned multiple states, people would be freaking out. She groaned at the thought of Atlanta drivers in a panic. “About stopping by my place,” she began, pointing down at her work clothes and impractical dress shoes, “I’m not dressed for a road trip.”
“Let’s assess when we’re on the way.” John set the suitcases by the door and strode over to Zach’s body. He unfurled a navy blue sheet and laid it over the corpse. “Sorry we can’t do more.”
“So am I.” Emma knelt down as the blood seeped into the fabric, spreading in a dark stain. “Goodbye, my friend.” She reached out, hand hovering above the sheet.
“Know how to shoot one of these?”
Emma turned. John held a shotgun in his hand. “No.”
“You might have to learn.”
“You can’t be serious.”
He pinned her with a stare. “Don’t forget, we’ve got more going on than a dead man on the floor.”
Emma rocked back on her heels. He was so matter-of-fact about death, as if the body turning cold on the floor was the most normal thing in the world. She stood and rubbed her arms. “Let’s hope it doesn’t come to that.”
“I’m ready.” Holly stood in the hall, a duffel bag over her shoulder and a furry pink pillow gripped to her chest. She’d scrubbed her face, but evidence of hard crying remained. “Are we going or what?”
“We’re going.” John grabbed the two suitcases and pointed toward the door. “Ladies first.”
Chapter Nine
Emma
“We haven’t moved more than ten feet in half an hour.” Holly practically whined from the backseat. She was right, everyone and their brother was on the highway headed north from Atlanta. At this rate, they would reach Gloria’s in a week.
Emma twisted around. “Looks like everyone else has somewhere to go, too.”
“Wake me up when we get there, okay?” Holly slumped back and reached for her mp3 player.
Teenagers. Emma turned back to the front and clicked on the radio, scanning for a transmitting station. Nothing.
The sedan next to them wobbled in place as a man clambered over the console and plopped into the front seat. Suitcases, grocery bags, and what looked like an urn filled the rear window. The woman in the passenger seat threw up her hands, pointing at the sea of cars. Her mouth contorted as she yelled.
Unease snaked down Emma’s spine. She glanced at John. He gripped the steering wheel with both hands even though they weren’t moving. Was he regretting his offer?
She angled toward him. They needed to break the ice. “So, tell me a bit about yourself. Where are you from? What brought you to Atlanta?”
“Why do you think I’m not from here?”
The flat question zapped her brain. “Oh, um...I don’t know, I guess the lack of an accent?”
“You don’t have one.”
“I’m from Boise. Came out here for college and never went back.”
John didn’t respond and Emma lapsed into silence. He obviously wasn’t interested in sharing about himself and she’d already run her mouth in the car on the way to Zach’s. Maybe enlisting John’s help wasn’t the best idea. “If you—”
“Tell me about CropForward again.”
His request stymied her attempt at offering him an out. “Excuse me?”
“I confess I wasn’t really listening before.” He flashed her a self-deprecating grin. “I didn’t think there was anything to it. I thought you—”
“Were crazy?”
“Something like that.” His smile softened. “Obviously, I’ve changed my mind.”
Emma turned to check on Holly. The poor thing was passed out, mouth open and drooling on her fuzzy pillow. With her adrenaline crashing and grief taking over, Emma was surprised Holly lasted this long. She twisted back around. “Where do you want me to start?”
“Your testimony. Why would it be so dangerous? What’s the real issue?”
Emma thought it over. “The seeds have been hyped for years. If they can quadruple the yield and be resistant to pesticides and herbicides, the crops can be grown in poor soil and climates more susceptible to fungus or insect damage. It basically increases the arable land in the world.”
“So, places without resources could grow their own food?”
“Exactly.” Said like that, she could understand why some countries wouldn’t be interested, but the United States? She frowned.
“What is it?”
“I’m thinking about what Holly said. If the government is really behind this—if the guy who killed Zach was some henchmen for the United States—why would they want to kill us? I’d think they’d want to protect us.”
“I don’t follow.”
“The US is a net exporter of pretty much all agricultural products. If CropForward is successful, then our export business would suffer. More places woul
d grow their own food; they wouldn’t need our wheat or corn or soy.”
John was silent for a few moments. “But if your research is true—if the seeds actually cause a host of problems—then maybe that’s the goal. If places like India and China begin using CropForward seeds, their population levels will begin to decline. In a few generations, they’ll be reeling from lack of young people.”
Emma thought it over. “Why would we want that?”
“Power.” John straightened up in his seat. “It always comes down to power.”
“I still can’t believe it was the government. It had to be CropForward.”
“Corporations don’t usually hire hitmen.”
“How would you know?”
John shrugged. “Too many movies, I guess.”
Emma barked out a laugh and the tension coiled up within her eased. “We haven’t moved in an hour, at least.” She reached for the door handle. “I’m going to stretch my legs.”
The sun hung low in the horizon as Emma wove through the stagnant line of cars. A few vehicles ahead, a group of motorists gathered in a makeshift circle. She smiled as she approached.
“Hi, there.” She gave a small wave.
A woman in athletic gear and a high ponytail slid over to make room. “You sick of waiting, too, huh?”
Emma nodded. “Anyone know what the holdup is?”
A man wearing a Braves baseball cap pointed behind him with his thumb. “Guy in a big rig back a hundred yards said it’s like this all the way to Alpharetta.”
The woman nodded. “Everyone’s trying to get out of the city.”
“Why?”
Everyone in the circle stared at Emma. The man in the ball cap took it off and wiped his brow. “The EMP.”
“The what?”
An older woman with gray hair piled up in a messy bun laughed. “You can’t be serious. Don’t tell me you’re on the way to a movie or something. Honey, we’re in a nationwide pickle.”
Emma swallowed. “I was trapped in an elevator when the power went out at work. All I’ve heard was a tiny snippet on the radio before we lost the station.”