No Ordinary Day | Book 2 | No Ordinary Getaway

cart.
Raymond stared at the bare shelves and ran a hand over his copper hair. “I’ve never seen it like this. Not even when we had that massive snowstorm a few years back. Sure, shelves were thin, but empty?” He checked his watch as if it held the answers. “It’s only been a few days.”
A shopping cart rattled into the aisle, pushed by a young woman. A toddler clung to the handle, grubby fingers wrapped around the edge as he rocked back and forth inside the cart. The woman stopped ten feet from Raymond and John, mouth hanging open as she stared out at the barren shelves.
The little boy bounced up and down. “EttieOs, mama. EttieOs.”
The woman looked down at her child, eyes widening as the gravity of the situation washed over her. “No SpaghettiOs today, honey. Maybe they’ll get some in tomorrow.”
He began to wail. “EttieOs, EttieOs.” He put his little hands together almost as if in prayer. “Mama, lunch. Mama, lunch.”
Something inside John twisted and he looked away as the woman lifted her eyes.
Raymond reached inside the basket and fished out the lone can of green beans.
“What are you doing?” John kept his voice low.
“Helping someone in need.” Raymond strode toward the woman, can in hand. “We found this wedged under the last shelf. Not SpaghettiOs, but maybe he’ll eat it?”
The woman’s fingers shook as she reached for the can. “He’s not real fond of vegetables, but thank you.” Even from the distance, John heard the tears in her voice. “I should have come yesterday, but I was working at the auto parts store over on Mayfield. I had another shift today, but they fired me as soon as I showed up. Said without power they couldn’t keep us all. Their bank accounts are frozen and they can’t print me my last check.” She covered her mouth with her hand. “I don’t know what we’re going to do.”
Raymond motioned at his cart. “I’ve got some meat. It’s raw, needs to be cooked, but you’re welcome to what I have.”
She pressed her lips together and stared at the cart for a moment before shaking her head. “I don’t have any means to cook it. Everything in the apartment is electric.”
“What about a grill? Fireplace?”
She shook her head. “Complex doesn’t allow grills. The fireplaces are on the second floor. Saved us thirty-five dollars a month in rent to skip it.”
John felt for her, but her plight was no different than tens of thousands of others all across the country. No way to save them all. John pushed the cart forward, stopping beside Raymond. “We can’t stand here forever. If you have anything else you need—” He let the implication hang as Raymond glanced each way down the aisle.
After a moment, Raymond reached into his wallet and pulled out a handful of twenty-dollar bills. He shoved them at the woman. “Go to another store, now. The Dollar General on the edge of town probably has a few things left. Maybe the Ingles, too. Buy everything you can. You’re going to need it.”
She stared at his hand like it might turn into a snake and bite her. He thrust the money out harder. “Take it.”
The little boy turned to his mom as she reached for the money. “Mama sad? Mama cry?”
She wiped away the tears streaming down her face. “No, honey, not sad.” She smiled at Raymond. “Thank you.”
Raymond grit his teeth, jaw clenching as he nodded in reply. He reached for the cart, taking control away from John before turning around and heading down the aisle.
As Raymond disappeared out of view, John hurried to catch up. It wasn’t like him to be bothered by other people’s decisions. Raymond meant nothing to him. He was the husband of a woman he’d been assigned to kill. Not a friend. Not a confidant. Hell, Raymond didn’t even want him around. For all John knew, the man was only humoring him until he tried to stab him in the back when he didn’t need him anymore.
If Raymond wanted to spend all of his money helping some woman who would be dead within the month, that was his choice. John caught up to the man as he headed down an aisle devoid of all but a handful of cleaning products. Raymond set a bottle of 409 into the cart and spoke without looking John in the eye. “I thought maybe you’d come to your senses and decided to go your own way.”
“Guess I’m a glutton for punishment.”
“That’s what you call it? Helping out a woman in need is punishment?” Raymond shook his head. “Why am I not surprised?”
“What’s that supposed to mean?”
Raymond turned in John’s direction, disbelief slackening his jaw. “You can’t be serious. You kill people and get paid for it. It’s not a surprise you don’t have a soul.”
John opened his mouth to respond, but closed it just as quickly. Arguing would get him nowhere. He’d be better off keeping his mouth shut.
But Raymond dug in. “What, cat got your tongue? Or am I just so right you have nothing further to say?”
“Just because I kill people, doesn’t mean I don’t have a soul.”
Raymond snorted out a laugh. “Oh, so you’re a hitman with feelings? Do you go home and drown your sorrows in a bottle of beer and watch Lifetime movies?”
John clenched his fist, digging his nails into his palm to keep from punching Raymond square in the jaw. “Everything is different now. The world has changed. The sooner you wise up to that and act accordingly the better off your wife will be.”
Raymond’s teasing expression shifted into anger. “Leave my wife out of this.”
“I’m telling the truth and you know it.”
“Let’s get the rest of what we need and get out of here. I don’t feel like talking anymore.” Raymond stormed ahead, barreling through the ransacked aisles, only managing to find a handful more items: a pack of Kleenex, a four pack of batteries, a small shovel.
They found the end of a line