Mercy (The Night Man Chronicles Book 3) by Brett Battles (most inspirational books of all time TXT) 📗

He stops and watches me get off the bike and says, “Hey.”

“Hey, yourself,” I reply. “You know you probably shouldn’t be here.”

The front door opens and Jar comes out, carrying our backpacks and the duffel bag of the stuff we haven’t already returned to the Travato. “Hello, Evan,” she says.

“Hi. Are you guys leaving?”

“Yeah,” I say. “Seems like a good day to hit the road again.”

“I see.” He looks down, trying to hide what appears to be disappointment.

“How’s everything at home?” I ask.

“It’s…weird, but I think we’re all happy my dad’s not around.”

“Sawyer?”

“He’s great. A lot less tense. He hasn’t gotten upset about anything since we stayed with you. I can’t remember the last time he’s been calm that long.”

“And your mother?”

He shrugs. “She’s not saying too much, but I’m sure she’s relieved, too. That video of me and my dad you sent out helped, I think. Though she did make me go to the doctor on Friday.”

Jar had chosen to include the clip from when Evan called out to his dad through the window, up until just after the point Chuckie knocked him into the shelves. If she’d asked me first, I’m not sure I would have wanted it sent. But I’m glad to hear Evan’s not mad about it.

“Someone put it on the internet and it’s got like two hundred thousand views already,” he says.

“You’re a star.”

He laughs. “I guess. Between that and the nine-one-one call, at least the police know I didn’t have anything to do with it.”

“You didn’t tell them anything about us, right?”

“Not a word. I just said I got knocked out and when I woke up, I was outside.”

“What about Gina?”

“She’ll stay quiet. She’s really good at that.”

While we were talking, Jar pulled out a piece of paper and has been writing on it. She now hands it to Evan.

“That’s your house,” she says.

She holds it out so both he and I can see it. On the paper are rough outlines of each floor.

She points at one of the xs that are all over the place. “Wherever you see one of these, you will find a bug.”

He blinks in surprise.

“I thought you might want to take them down,” she says.

“Do they still work?”

“They do, but you would need the proper software and access code to use them.”

“Oh, then what should I do with them?”

“Just throw them away.” I say.

“Or I could send him the app and he could play with them,” Jar suggests.

His eyes light up.

“Uh, no,” I say. “That’s not going to happen. And you know what? If you do somehow get them to work without the app, I’d better not find out you’ve been using them for anything illegal or just plain wrong. Understand?”

“I would never do anything like that. I promise.”

“Yeah? Well, you promised me you wouldn’t follow your father.”

“I’ll do better this time.”

“I’m counting on it.” When he doesn’t say anything else, I say, “We really should get going.”

“Right. Sure. I understand.”

Jar and I pull on our backpacks and don our helmets. After I get on the motorcycle, she hops on behind me and puts the duffel bag between us. It’s a little awkward, but we have only a few miles to go to reach the Travato.

“Hey,” Evan says. “I just, um, wanted to thank you. I know this was just a job you were doing, but…thanks.”

“I’m happy we were able to help you.” I start the bike.

“Keep helping your brother,” Jar says, “and he will do fine.”

“I will.”

“See you down the road,” I tell him, and pull out of the driveway.

Neither Jar nor I say anything all the way back to the Travato.

After we load the Yamaha onto the trailer, I make calls to our landlords and tell them an unexpected opportunity has come up that requires us to leave town. When I also inform them we understand we’ll be sacrificing our deposits, the financial fight they were probably preparing to have with me vanishes.

Jar and I stand outside, near the entrance of the RV.

“I think I’ve seen enough farms for a while,” I say.

“They are not so bad. The rows of crops are very soothing.”

“Fair enough. I could call Mrs. Turner back and see if we could stay out here a little longer.”

Now I’m the one getting the evil side-eye. “That will not be necessary.”

I chuckle. “How about we hit something else on your list? Where do you want to go next?”

She leans against me and puts her hand on the small of my back. This is not something she does often. “I don’t care,” she says. “Let’s just go and see where we end up.”

That’s also not very Jar-esque, but it sounds perfect.

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About the Author

Brett Battles is a USA Today and Amazon bestselling and Barry Award-winning author of forty novels, including those in the Jonathan Quinn series, the Night Man Chronicles, the Excoms series, the Project Eden thrillers, and the time-hopping Rewinder series. He’s also the coauthor, with Robert Gregory Browne, of the Alexandra Poe series.

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