Chapter 11 - The Whisper in the Market
Despite the looming threat, we could not simply stop living. Aaron needed formula, and the house needed supplies.
Three days later, I drove into the small coastal town to visit the local market. Daniel had explicitly forbidden me from going alone, so Caleb rode shotgun, his eyes constantly scanning the perimeter.
I was standing in the produce aisle, examining a carton of strawberries, when the hairs on the back of my neck violently stood up.
It was a primal, undeniable instinct. I was being watched.
I slowly turned my head.
At the end of the aisle, standing near the exit, was a tall man in a dark gray raincoat. His face was obscured by the shadows of a baseball cap, but his posture was rigid, military, and entirely out of place in the sleepy coastal town.
He didn't move. He just stared directly at me.
"Caleb,"
I whispered urgently, abandoning the shopping cart.
Caleb was beside me in an instant. He looked down the aisle, catching sight of the man in the gray coat.
The man tilted his head slightly, tapped two fingers against the brim of his cap in a mock salute, and seamlessly slipped out the automatic sliding doors.
"Let's go,"
May you like
Caleb ordered, grabbing my arm and pulling me toward the back exit of the store.
"Right now."
