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Chapters (98)
  1. Author’s Note
  2. Tuesday
  3. 1
  4. 2
  5. 3
  6. 4
  7. 5
  8. 6
  9. 7
  10. 8
  11. 9
  12. 10
  13. 11
  14. 12
  15. 13
  16. 14
  17. 15
  18. 16
  19. 17
  20. Wednesday
  21. 1
  22. 2
  23. 3
  24. 4
  25. 5
  26. 6
  27. 7
  28. 8
  29. 9
  30. 10
  31. 11
  32. 12
  33. 13
  34. 14
  35. 15
  36. Thursday
  37. 1
  38. 2
  39. 3
  40. 4
  41. 5
  42. 6
  43. 7
  44. 8
  45. 9
  46. 10
  47. 11
  48. 12
  49. 13
  50. 14
  51. 15
  52. 16
  53. Friday
  54. 1
  55. 2
  56. 3
  57. 4
  58. 5
  59. 6
  60. 7
  61. 8
  62. 9
  63. 10
  64. 11
  65. 12
  66. Saturday
  67. 1
  68. 2
  69. 3
  70. 4
  71. 5
  72. 6
  73. 7
  74. 8
  75. 9
  76. 10
  77. 11
  78. 12
  79. 13
  80. 14
  81. 15
  82. Sunday
  83. 1
  84. 2
  85. 3
  86. 4
  87. 5
  88. 6
  89. 7
  90. 8
  91. 9
  92. 10
  93. 11
  94. 12
  95. 13
  96. Tuesday
  97. 1
  98. Afterword

Jack followed the pickup’s dust cloud along Pemberton. He was gaining on it when it suddenly braked and hung a hard right. Jack skidded to a halt, almost missing the turn. He nosed onto a pair of sandy ruts that curved to the right. He accelerated but the dust was so thick that he missed the path and slid off into the brush. It took a few back-and-forth maneuvers to get moving again, and by the time he made it back to the road—that pair of ruts was nothing more than an arc that curved back to South Road—the truck was nowhere to be seen.

Jack drove to the intersection and got out. He scanned the roads up and down in search of a tell-tale dust cloud, but saw nothing. The truck had either slowed or pulled off the road to hide in the brush.

Frustration set his teeth on edge as he swung back into the driver seat. He pounded once on the steering wheel.

“Not to worry,” Anya said. “I have a feeling you’ll be seeing that truck again.”

“So do I,” Jack said. “That’s the problem.”

5

Jack needed to pick up some beer and a few munchies. Anya said she needed to do some food shopping as well. So, following her directions, he drove them to the Publix in downtown Novaton. On the way he saw a number of homeless types begging on the sidewalks. He hadn’t noticed them on past trips through.

A fellow with a cauliflower nose and a lumpy face that looked like he’d stuffed his cheeks with marbles stood near the door. He held a Styrofoam cup and shook the change within, looking for more.

As Jack slowed, trying not to stare but wondering if this guy was related to the two in the pickup, Anya grabbed his arm and pulled him through the automatic door.

“Give him nothing. His type are up to no good.”

Inside, he and Anya split, she rolling her cart toward the produce section while he headed for the snack aisle. There he found more varieties of fried pork rinds and pork cracklins than he’d ever imagined possible. He’d heard of them but never tried any. He passed them by and stocked up on healthier fare—tubes of cheese Pringles, one of his household staples. On his way back past the pork rinds he gave in to an impulse and picked up a bag. He’d try anything once. Couldn’t tell Gia, though. She’d be grossed out.