No Ordinary Day , Tate, Harley [ebook offline .TXT] 📗

deck. You can follow me, if you want.”

Five minutes later, Emma stood outside her electric vehicle, mouth hanging open in disbelief. Where the plug connected to the charging port, black streaks of melted plastic and charred metal remained. She turned to John. “Now what?”

He pointed to a black Jeep a few spots down. “If you don’t mind riding shotgun, I can drive.”

Emma exhaled. Yet another thing to be thankful for. She clutched her bag a bit closer and smiled. “I’d love that, thanks.”

Chapter Seven

John

It had been relatively easy to not only spin a lie about his business in the building, but to coax the truth out of Emma.  He was now a good guy with an ordinary name, tattling on his employer, just like her. A few more shares about his fictional life and the floodgates opened.

Emma spilled about her work at CropForward, her upcoming testimony, and her compatriots in the entire ordeal. From what he could gather, none of the targets were aware of the gravity of the situation. According to his boss, Klein was already out of commission. They were way past the gentle persuasion tactics of black vehicles following a little too close and men in suits showing up uninvited on the front porch.

John didn’t usually get this close to a mark, let alone engage in conversation. But if Gloria Sanchez was really at a cabin in the mountains, John would need Emma to reveal the exact location before he took her out. He’d have to string her along for a little while, coax her into telling him all about it. Not his preferred method.

As Emma finished a detailed explanation of testing phases and USDA approval requirements, John slowed the SUV. Like every other intersection since leaving the lab, the lights were out. As he came up to the line, a white Suburban sped through, not even slowing to check for oncoming traffic. John hit the brakes a little too hard.

Emma slid forward in the driver’s seat.

“Sorry,” he offered.

“Are all the lights out?” Emma craned her head, looking behind her as John eased through the intersection.

“So far.” The further the blackout stretched, the more concerned John became. Intersection after intersection, all without power. It seemed bigger than a blackout. He cut a glance in Emma’s direction. “What do you remember about that news report?”

She stared up at the ceiling as she recalled. “They said something about a flare or a burst from the sun. Showed a video that looked kind of like a volcano.”

“And that’s what knocked out the power?”

“Honestly, I don’t remember.” She shook her head. “I wish I had paid more attention.” She pulled out her phone.

“Still nothing?”

“Not a thing.”

John turned on the radio. Instead of his favorite station, there was static. He hit the scan button. Every station was the same. No broadcast, no music.

Emma shifted in the passenger seat. “This doesn’t feel right. I’ve never not heard the radio, even when the power is out. There should be at least one station.”

She was right. John clicked over to a.m. and scanned. The radio paused on a faint signal and John turned up the volume.

“…strength ahead… big one… years before we recover… last-minute preps now… North Carolina, Tennessee … Virginia…”

He turned down the volume when the signal faded. “Did you catch any of that?”

Emma shook her head. “It sounded like the power’s out for the whole southeast? Could that be right?”

John clenched his jaw. If he weren’t on a deadline, he would detour to the nearest convenience store or bar and ferret out some information. But his boss demanded results and a blackout changed nothing.

He turned at the next street per Emma’s instructions and entered a residential neighborhood. Little brick ranches with tidy front yards and empty carports lined the road.

“Turn here.” She pointed at the upcoming cross street. “He’s the last house on the right. Dead-end, backs up to a creek. If the driveway is full, you can park in the weeds.”

John turned the corner and slowed his approach.

“No car in the drive.” Emma brightened. “Maybe I read the text wrong and he’s simply out of town.”

She reached for the door handle, but John stuck out his arm. “Let me lead. You don’t know what we’re going to find.” He parked the SUV and reached over to pop the glove box before grabbing his Sig Sauer.

Emma froze.

He smiled. “Don’t tell me you’re gun shy.”

“No, not really, I mean, keeping a loaded gun in my glove box wouldn’t be my first choice, but—”

“It’s not your car.” John ops-checked the pistol before racking the slide. “If things are as bad inside as you think they might be, you’re going to be thankful I have this.”

She paled.

“Ready?”

“Not anymore.”

John opened the door. “Just stay behind me.”

He held the pistol low in his right hand as he walked toward the front of the house. No visible signs of entry. No disturbed plants, footprints, broken glass. Nothing out of the ordinary. Maybe his boss jumped the gun.

Bypassing the front door, John eased behind an azalea and peered in the front window. At first, in the dim, powerless light, everything appeared normal. But as he cupped his hands around his eyes and squinted against the glass, the linoleum separated into two different hues. He stepped out of the bushes and put a finger to his lips as Emma approached.

“What is it?” she whispered.

“Blood in the kitchen. A lot of it. We should head around back.”

Emma’s lips parted, but she stayed silent, opting to keep close behind John as they eased around the house.

When they reached the far corner, John turned. “Stay here. Don’t be a target.”

Emma nodded, eyes wide with fear, as John turned back around. He shouldn’t have bothered to warn her, but without eyes on the source of the blood, John had to be careful. If one of his colleagues was dead inside, Emma could identify him. If she somehow got away…

He shook his head. The blackout had impaired his focus. That needed to change. With