No Ordinary Day | Book 2 | No Ordinary Getaway Tate, Harley (the reader ebook .TXT) 📖

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.”

Tears leaked from her eyes, and Holly let the horse lead, spurring it on with a nudge of her heels. The horse took off, gaining speed as it cleared the house and ran along the dirt road between the fields.

Wind streamed past Holly’s face, spreading the tears down her cheeks as Cornflower launched into a gallop. Holly didn’t care where they were going. All she wanted was to get away from her mother, away from the EMP, from the death of her father, from everything. She sobbed and long, jagged noises gargled up her throat.

A creek cut through the fields and Cornflower headed straight toward it, slowing as they neared. She nosed the sandy bank, sniffing the water before dipping low enough to drink. Holly sniffed and wiped her face before flipping one leg over the horse in an attempt to dismount. She fell as she leaned back, landing hard on her backside in the loamy sand at the water’s edge.

She stood, wiping the dirt off her palms before taking a deep breath. If she were braver, she would ride Cornflower far, far away from her mother who wished she had never been born. Away from the strangers who took her in, but probably wished they hadn’t. Away from the constant reminders of a father who truly loved her but was dead and gone. She bent down to the water and splashed it over her face, the cool freshness calming her nerves.

Something crackled behind her and Cornflower lifted her head, ears swiveling at the noise. Holly turned.

“Well, look what the horse dragged in.” A man dressed in all black like her father’s killer stood at the edge of the grass, handgun trained at Holly’s chest. A bandage was wrapped around his head, blood seeping through the tan fabric. Sunglasses obscured his eyes, but if Holly had to guess, he was the man who murdered her father.

Panic reared its ugly head and sweat broke out across Holly’s hairline. She stepped back, foot edging into the current of the stream.

He waggled a finger at her. “Now don’t go getting any ideas. I’ll take you back dead if it’s easier.”

She stopped moving. “Did you kill my father?” The words sounded stronger than she felt on the inside.

The man laughed. “Are you that fat scientist’s daughter? I heard you were there. It’s a shame I didn’t lay eyes on you back at the house. Didn’t realize you were such a looker.” His eyes roamed up Holly’s body, carrying a wave of nausea with them.

“What do you want?”

He tilted his head. “I thought that was obvious. Leverage. You’re coming with me. A sweet little bargaining chip to get me what I want.”

“They’ll see you coming. It won’t be a surprise.”

“I don’t care if it is. They won’t shoot me if I have you.”

“I wouldn’t be so sure about that. I’m not anyone’s favorite.”

He scoffed. “I doubt that. Now come here and be a good girl.”

She turned to run, but he caught her no more than a handful of strides away. Holly fought the urge to panic, trying to remember everything John and told her about how to survive. She sucked in a deep breath and held it as the man lashed her wrists with a zip tie.

“If you’re going to make this difficult, then I’ll have to take a few more precautions. But don’t try my patience.” He yanked her by the restraint, and she stumbled forward toward the horse.

Cornflower sidestepped, eyes swiveling in their sockets, to stare at the man. He held out a hand and shushed her, waiting until the horse calmed down before forcing Holly to climb up. He followed behind her, positioning her awkwardly in front of the saddle. “Not the most comfortable, but it’ll have to do.”

Holly scooted forward as much as she could, attempting to put distance between them. Every time his chest brushed her back, her skin crawled. “I’m not going to tell you how to get back to the farm.”

He snorted. “No worries. I’m sure your horse will show me the way.”

With a kick to Cornflower’s ribs, they took off, leaving the creek and any chance at escape behind.

Chapter Twenty-Four

Emma

“What the heck happened?” Raymond stared at the gash tearing up John’s calf.

“Willy stabbed him. They were grappling on the ground and he pulled out the knife. I didn’t see the whole thing.”

Raymond grimaced. “We’ll have to do this the old-fashioned way. I don’t think the plastic sutures can handle all these flaps and jagged edges.”

Emma pressed a hand against her stomach, willing the contents to stay put. “Will he be okay?”

“I don’t know. He’s lost a lot of blood. His face is even pale.” Raymond shook his head. “This is out of my depth.”

“Let’s just do the best we can.” Emma stood beside John, staring down at his slack face, as Raymond readied the suture kit.

“Irrigate the wound with that alcohol, will you?”

Emma did as instructed, splashing a generous amount of the liquid into the gash as Raymond followed behind with a towel. “Thank goodness he’s knocked out.”

“Let’s hope this doesn’t wake him up.” Raymond leaned in, needle in his hand. His shoulders rose as he inhaled and lowered as he jabbed the needle through the first flap of torn skin.

John moaned but didn’t wake.

Emma bit her lip, watching with worry as Raymond stitched the wound closed.

“He’ll need to stay off his feet for a while, give his body a chance to reduce the swelling and lower the inflammation. Otherwise, he’ll only complicate the healing.” Raymond finished the work in silence, concentrating as the wound grew more challenging. As he tied the last stitch closed, the door to the house swung open.

Gloria stepped inside, eyes wide and frantic. “He’s here.”

“Who’s here?”

“I’m guessing the guy you two fought off in the road.”

Emma gave a start.