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

for Holly to see more than his lower legs. The sound of his shotgun racking filled the silence.

A shudder ran through her body and she braced herself against the door. This can’t be happening.

“I’m in here.” Her father spoke with only a slight warble in his voice.

More than anything, Holly wanted to run to him, beg him to leave, get out, do anything other than stand there in the kitchen with a 12-gauge shotgun that hadn’t been fired as long as she could remember. But she kept her word and stayed quiet and still.

A figure emerged at the end of the hall straight out of her friends’ video games. Head-to-toe black tactical vest, crazy rifle with a scope, sunglasses. More Call of Duty than Halo but terrifying all the same. She bit back a sob.

Her father eased away from the basement door and further into the kitchen.

“Stop moving.” The man with the rifle stepped forward and aimed his gun straight at her father’s chest.

“You don’t have to do this.” Holly’s father took another step and the sunlight from the front window fell across his face.

“I said, stop moving.”

“Do you know why you’re here?”

“Doesn’t matter.”

Her father kept talking. “It’s to keep the truth from the world. CropForward’s seeds will make millions of people sick. Millions more will be unable to have children. You can’t want that.”

“What I want is irrelevant. Put down the weapon.”

“Haven’t you stopped to think about this? They’re producing a product that causes generational sterility and a host of other side effects.”

“Not my problem.”

“The most impoverished nations who rely on CropForward for seeds will begin to experience massive population decline. It will cause upheaval to their social structures, their families, their very way of life. Whatever CropForward is paying you, it can’t be worth that.”

“I never said CropForward was my client. Last chance. Put down the weapon.”

“Then… who?” Holly’s father lowered the shotgun.

No! She raised her hand, about to shout out, when the intruder laughed. “Who do you think? Try the biggest client for military contractors like me. The big one. The one who likes to send in the private companies to do the dirty work so their hands can stay clean. You think they don’t know about the seeds and what they do? You think they don’t want it to happen? Man, for a scientist, you really are an idiot.”

Holly blinked. What did he mean? Was he talking about the government? Holly thought back to her twentieth century history class the semester before. She knew there were contractors in the Middle East that multiple governments used to police food and supply routes, but she didn’t remember anything about something like this. Wouldn’t it be an act of war? She swallowed.

Her father ran a hand over his face.

Holly started. Was he giving up? No! He can’t!

“Are you telling the truth? About your client?” Her father’s voice came out soft and almost resigned.

“No reason to lie, is there? Not like you’re walking out of here.”

“So, it’s true.” Her father’s shoulders sagged. “It doesn’t matter what I say, what I do. The fix is in.” He turned his head and stared straight at the basement door. “At least I know that I stood up for what was right. Even if no one else does.”

He closed his eyes as he pointed the shotgun at the ground.

A million firsts flashed through Holly’s mind: getting her license, prom, graduating high school, marriage. Her dad had to be there. This couldn’t be happening. It had to be a mistake. A bad dream. She must have blacked out between bites of cereal.

They were ordinary people with ordinary lives. Her dad drove to work every day in a Honda Civic and Holly rode the bus to high school. They weren’t criminal masterminds or spies or drug dealers. They were—

The boom of the shotgun caught her off guard and Holly gasped. Her hand flew to her mouth as her father racked the shotgun to fire again. Before he could, he jerked in place, once, twice, three times.

Blood bloomed on his white dress shirt as he wobbled and fell sideways to the floor. His head came to rest on the linoleum in the same spot she’d wiped only a few minutes before. Holly stared in horror at her father’s lifeless brown eyes, staring straight at her, unblinking.

Tears streamed down her cheeks as she watched the killer step forward.

Crouching at her father’s dead body, he plucked buckshot from his vest and tossed the fragments on the floor. “I just bought this vest you SOB.”

Holly kept as still as possible, not daring to even breathe. If he turned around, he would see her. She couldn’t let that happen. Not after her father asked her to hide. Not after watching him die…

The light in the kitchen flickered before turning off.

“What the…” The intruder stood and cursed as he looked around.

Is the power out? Before Holly could move, he strode right up to the basement door. She froze. I’m not here. I’m not here. I’m not here. She kept repeating the phrase over and over in her head, willing the man to leave. Blood whooshed in her ears and her heart slammed against her ribs.

Now I know what deer feel like. She could barely breathe, each more frantic and shallow than the last. She closed her eyes. Tried to find some courage.

I have to hide. I have to try for my dad.

With careful, quiet movements, Holly eased away from the door and down the stairs. In the dark, the unfinished basement loomed like a horror movie set, full of spiderwebs and dust. She paused as her bare feet met dusty concrete. The basement provided little to no cover, HVAC in the middle, storage boxes along the far wall. No hallways, no doors, no secret compartments. Except…

With arms outstretched like the bride of Frankenstein, Holly eased around the stairs into the small alcove behind.  Shielded from immediate view, she might survive a cursory search. Her foot caught on something soft and she bent