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CHAPTER SIX: MISERABLE
In the bright summer morning, Emma left to go to work. Another day, more work. Despite the fact that she discovered the compass with John B, she was busy with her job, busy trying to keep the house together with her brother.
John B had the compass with him while he tried to figure out what it meant—why Scooter Grubbs had it. Emma would've helped him but she was too busy; she had to go to work. It was a short shift, anyway, she'll go help her brother sooner or later.
She doesn't have the Twinkie. Her brother and JJ took it. Thus, she decided to just go walking. Why not? It's not hot yet, there is still a miniscule bit of a cold breeze in the air, so she doesn't mind. Additionally, she loves walking.
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By the afternoon, Emma was done with her shift, saying goodbye to Pope's father and heading out. She remembered that she didn't have the Twinkie. With this hot afternoon weather, she wanted to scream.
Maybe I don't like walking anymore. Damn you, JB!
All she wants to do was to lay down in her bed in the Chatéau. She's so exhausted. Work this time was a little too much to handle. Customers were actually coming in and buying food. Something that didn't happen so much but she was happy for Heyward. More importantly, she was happy she got a few extra tips.
However, she was so tired from serving people. She imagined sitting in a restful room with air conditioning, lying on a couch and eating ice cream. That. That was the life she wished for.
While the girl was daydreaming about eating ice cream and being cozy, she was yanked off to the sidewalk. Two big arms wrapped around her shoulders and dragged her away while one hand reached to cover her mouth before she could scream.
She writhed, tried to free herself, but the assumed man that grabbed her was too strong for her. She was then led to an alleyway. There was another man there, waiting for her and the first man that dragged her.
Emma looked up with wide, horrified eyes to see who it was. They look familiar. Too familiar. These were the men that chased Emma and the Pogues down the marsh the other day.
Shit.
"Emma Routledge, what a pleasant surprise." The thinner adult male with a beard spoke, pointing a gun at her. He held a malicious grin on his face, like he did this on occasional days. She panicked and tried to get out of the other one's grip, but he wouldn't let go.
