Aftershock (10 page)

How naive.

When he came home for the winter holidays, he hadn’t wanted
anything to do with her—or the baby. She’d been forced to contact his parents.
They offered her a small settlement in exchange for Tyler signing away his
rights, and she hadn’t been too proud to take it.

The money wasn’t enough to give her a comfortable life,
however. Caring for a child was a huge responsibility. Penny didn’t know how she
would juggle college classes with diaper changes and midnight feedings. Her
parents wouldn’t support her as a single mother. They thought she’d brought
shame to their family.

Thankfully, her aunt Bernice had stepped in. She wasn’t as
conservative as Penny’s parents. Her kids were all grown, and she had plenty of
room at her house. Bernice told Penny that she could stay with her as long as
she needed to. Penny felt as though a great weight had been lifted off her
shoulders. With Bernice’s help, she could manage.

But now Bernice was dead—and Penny was terrified. Maybe she’d
been crazy to want to keep the baby. She didn’t know the first thing about
umbilical cords or breast milk. What if she’d made the wrong decision?

She could die in childbirth. They could both die.

Cadence rapped on the door. “Penny?”

“What?”

“Are you okay?”

Wiping the tears from her eyes, she left the bathroom. “I’m
fine.”

“I had a dream last night that the baby came,” Cadence said,
picking up her Nintendo. “We were in Mario Kart land, driving around on the
track with the baby in the front seat. The bad guys were chasing us.”

“Which bad guys?”

“The convicts. Jeb and Mickey.”

“Not Owen?”

“No. I don’t know where he was.”

Penny cupped one hand over her belly, using the other to rub
her lower back. The ache was worse today. “I’m going to see Lauren.”

She looked up from the screen. “Can I come?”

“I’ll only be a few minutes. Stay here.”

Penny waved at Don before she walked away from the RV. Although
she didn’t acknowledge Garrett or Owen, their conversation stalled as she passed
by. Garrett asked a question about the welding equipment, but Owen didn’t
answer. He stared at Penny, his eyes trailing down the front of her body.

She ducked into the triage tent, frowning. What was his
problem? He acted like he’d never seen a pregnant woman before.

Lauren was inside, checking some tubes attached to Sam. He
hadn’t so much as blinked since the earthquake.

“Where’s Mrs. Engle?” Penny asked.

“She died last night.”

Her mouth fell open. “Why didn’t you say anything?”

Lauren tucked a blanket around Sam. “I don’t know. I guess I
felt...overwhelmed. Like I let her down.”

“You didn’t let her down,” Penny protested. “What more could
you have done?”

“Stayed by her side. Not slept.”

Penny didn’t know what to say to comfort Lauren, or how to
broach the next subject.

“How are you feeling?” Lauren asked.

“Okay.”

“No contractions?”

Although she’d had a few cramplike sensations, she shook her
head. “I’d like to talk to you about Owen.”

“You don’t want him here.”

“How did you know?”

“It’s pretty obvious.”

Penny moistened her lips, nervous. “He has a swastika
tattoo.”

“Yes.”

“And...his brother killed someone.”

“I’m more concerned about the way he looks at you, but I doubt
he’ll try anything with Garrett and Don around.”

She pressed her lips together, close to tears. “I can’t stand
sitting in the RV. I feel like I’m going to explode.”

Lauren’s expression softened. “Why don’t you walk around a
little? You can go back and forth from the semi to the RV. I’d appreciate it if
you kept listening to the radio and trying the SOS signal every few
minutes.”

Penny promised to help, but she felt self-conscious about
strolling around in circles. Owen’s scrutiny made her uneasy. She left the
triage tent and trudged toward the semi with her hands splayed over her belly.
Out of the corner of her eye, she saw Owen doing a demonstration with the
cutting tool.

He put his face shield down and turned on the torch. It was
like a spray wand to wash a car, except blue flames hissed from the tip. He
touched the end to a thick piece of metal, slicing it neatly.

Garrett’s grin indicated that he liked what he saw. Owen turned
off the torch and flipped up his face shield. They talked excitedly together,
not paying attention to her. Something about them reminded Penny of outlaws.

It was like the Wild West down here. There were no rules.
Nobody cared about Owen’s white-trash tattoos. Garrett looked uncivilized, with
his dirty clothes and beard-shadowed face. They were closed off from the outside
world, but it wasn’t really that different. Men were free to do whatever they
wanted.

Penny slipped into the semi, feeling as powerless as ever.

CHAPTER TEN

O
WEN
HEARD
P
ENNY
climb into the
Kenworth truck and slam the door, but he didn’t turn his head toward the
sound.

He’d already been caught leering.

Garrett had seemed amused by his preoccupation with her, and
Owen understood why. The situation was laughable. She wasn’t just hostile and
unattainable, she was
pregnant
. No dark-skinned girl
would date him, either. The only women he had a chance with were Aryan
Brotherhood groupies and trailer-park whores.

Scratch that. To have a chance, you had to have access. He had
nothing.

“You like her,” Garrett commented.

“No,” he lied.

“If you touch her, I’ll kill you.”

Owen looked into Garrett’s eyes, startled. Unlike Jeb and
Mickey, he wasn’t a big talker. He meant what he said. “I wouldn’t touch her.
That’s...sick.”

Garrett grunted, unconvinced. “How old are you?”

“Twenty-one.”

“Been in long?”

“Three years.”

“Look, I can’t blame you for staring. I’m just letting you know
how it is.”

“You don’t have to worry about that,” Owen assured him. “I’m
not like Mickey.”

“What’s he been saying?”

Owen didn’t want to repeat it. Garrett had already issued one
death threat, and they hadn’t even been talking about Lauren.

“Are they planning anything?” Garrett pressed.

“I don’t know. They hardly spoke to me.”

“What did they say to each other?”

“A lot of bullshit. They want to make you pay for breaking
Mickey’s nose. They’d like to get their hands on Lauren.”

His mouth tightened with anger. “How much time are they
doing?”

“Jeb’s a lifer. Mickey is almost up for parole.”

“Did they send you over here?”

“Hell, no,” Owen said, affronted. “I told you why I came. I
want to get out of this place, not drink myself stupid.”

“They have more alcohol?”

“A few beers, maybe. The hard stuff is gone.”

Garrett hesitated a few seconds before broaching a new subject.
“Lauren and the others don’t know where I’m from.”

“No shit,” Owen said, rolling his eyes.

“If she found out, she wouldn’t let me protect her.”

He smirked. “Or let you do anything else to her.”

“It’s not about that.”

Owen didn’t believe him, but he just shrugged. If Garrett
wanted to pretend he wasn’t dying to bang Lauren, it was no skin off his
back.

He also didn’t understand why Garrett seemed so torn over the
deception. Owen had been raised to lie, cheat and steal. In his experience, the
only time men regretted this kind of behavior was
after
they got caught.

Garrett cleared his throat, glancing up at the ceiling of the
structure again. “I think this job needs to be done in stages. We have to chip
away a lot more of the concrete before cutting the rebar.”

Owen nodded his agreement. He wasn’t in any hurry to fire up
the torch. Although he was confident in his skills, the cutting work would be
dangerous, like using a chain saw while hanging upside down.

“You have any experience with heights?” Garrett asked.

“Nope.”

“I can do the chipping and you can do the cutting. Or, you can
teach me how to use the torch, and I’ll do both.”

“No,” Owen said. “I’ll do both.”

“You’ll get tired.”

“You’re already tired.”

Garrett narrowed his eyes. “Says who?”

“I saw you fall yesterday.”

“You’ve been watching us the whole time?”

Owen didn’t answer. He’d been trying to catch a glimpse of
Penny. Seeing her up close gave his system a jolt. He thought he was getting
used to it, but when she’d walked by in that blue dress, his heart had jumped
into his throat.

“I’m not tired, but my shoulder and arm muscles are sore.
Climbing that wall without handholds was a real bitch.”

“I can imagine,” Owen said. “I think my lighter weight will be
an advantage.”

Garrett had completed the most difficult task yesterday by
securing the climbing rope to the wall. During the aftershock, only the top two
clips had busted loose. Owen would have to place some new anchors, preferably on
both sides of the crevice. He’d also need to get comfortable, because breaking
up the concrete might take all day.

“I wish we had some sort of pulley device,” Garrett muttered,
searching through the gear. “That way we could go up and down without any
trouble.”

Don helped them rig a simple system to lift Owen straight up in
the air. The rope was still hanging from the uppermost clip, where Garrett had
left it. They attached one end of the rope to Owen’s harness, and the other to
the semitruck hitch.

As Garrett pulled the rope, Don took up the slack and wound it
around the hitch to keep it from slipping.

The ascent wasn’t effortless, but it was faster than the
technique Garrett had used yesterday. The main advantage was that Owen could
save his strength for chipping. He reached the top clip without breaking a
sweat.

Garrett held the rope steady, nodding at Owen to get
started.

Owen turned his attention to the wall above him. He was only
about twenty feet off the ground, but it seemed like a steep drop. Things
shifted during earthquakes, and another aftershock could hit at any moment.

He didn’t feel very safe, hanging from a crumbling wall.

Putting the danger out of his mind, he focused on shortening
the distance to the crevice. Instead of wedging a metal square into the cracks,
as Garrett had, Owen hooked one of the clips directly to the rebar.

Pulse racing, he threaded his short rope through the clip. Now
the lead rope was just a backup, and he had to climb higher on his own. With
shaking hands, he pulled on the short rope, his muscles straining. It was a lot
harder than it looked, and Garrett hadn’t made it look easy. When his harness
was even with the clip, he attached them.

Christ. He wiped the sweat from his forehead, glancing down at
Garrett.

“How’s it going?”

“It sucks,” Owen replied.

Garrett laughed in agreement.

Undeterred by the difficulty, Owen secured another clip to the
rebar and heaved himself up another few feet. Twice more, and he was at the
summit, panting like a worn-out dog. He attached two clips to the exposed rebar
and hung suspended from his harness. It took a minute to catch his breath.

When he was ready, he removed the hammer and stake from his
tool belt. Placing the pointy tip of the metal stake against the edge of the
crack, he drew back his arm and struck the blunt end. A walnut-size piece of
concrete broke loose and fell to his right. Owen made the mistake of watching it
hurtle toward the ground.

He squeezed his eyes shut and tightened his grip on the hammer,
fighting vertigo. Nausea and dizziness slammed into him.

“Breathe,” Garrett said.

Owen sucked in oxygen, his heart racing. After a few gulps, the
prickly sensation eased. He lifted the hammer again, determined to keep going.
On his second attempt, the concrete didn’t budge. His third strike loosened
another tiny piece.

Because he was reclining so far back, his arms were already
tired. The hammer felt like it weighed twenty pounds.

This wasn’t working. He was going to fail.

Discouraged by his slow progress, he stared at the red SOS
flag, flapping in the breeze. Cool air drifted in from the outside. Between the
metal bars, the sky was gray. It smelled damp, like approaching rain.

Prisoners were kept inside during stormy weather, which was
unusual in San Diego. Owen hadn’t felt rain on his face in a long, long
time.

His mother had liked the rain.

For some reason, the thought made him feel like crying. He
wasn’t the type to get choked up over little things. They were trapped in a
hellhole with some crazy motherfuckers. He should cry about
that
.

“What’s wrong?” Garrett asked.

Owen blinked away the tears. “Nothing,” he said, setting the
stake in place again. “Concrete dust in my eyes.”

He didn’t know what kept him going. Maybe it was Penny’s
reluctance to let him stay. By breaking through this barrier, he could prove
himself worthy of their group. Maybe it was a cumulative collection of all the
bad things he’d done in his life. He could pretend that every strike of the
hammer canceled one of them out.

Mostly, he just wanted to feel rain on his face.

An hour later, the stake slipped from his sweaty fist. It
sailed through the air and clattered against the floor. Owen hooked the hammer
to his belt, studying the space he’d created. Someone Cadence’s size might be
able to fit through.

The rest of them needed more room.

His arms shook uncontrollably as he unclipped his harness from
the rebar. He felt wasted, as if he’d drunk a fifth of Jack. This was the
hardest work he’d ever done. And it wasn’t enough. They wouldn’t be able to get
out today. Probably not tomorrow, either.

“You ready to come down?” Garrett asked.

“Yeah.”

Owen glanced over his shoulder, his weary eyes detecting
movement from the far corner. Another obstacle to their escape presented itself:
Jeb and Mickey were striding toward the RV like a couple of vagabond
marauders.

Garrett noticed their approach at the same time. He glanced at
the crowbar he’d been carrying around for the past two days. Unfortunately, he
couldn’t take his hands off the rope to get to it.

Owen was of no use, either. Even if Garrett lowered him to the
ground, he wouldn’t be able to lift a weapon.

“Fuck,” he groaned, expecting the worst.

* * *

L
AUREN
WAS
AFRAID
to
leave Sam’s side.

She avoided glancing at the empty space where Mrs. Engle had
rested. If she kept her focus on Sam, constantly monitoring his vital signs and
holding his hand, he couldn’t slip from coma into death. Not alone, at
least.

He didn’t respond to her ministrations, as usual. His lean,
muscular form had boasted very little body fat to begin with. Now that he’d lost
weight, he looked cadaverous. She didn’t have enough IV fluids to keep him
hydrated. His chances of survival weren’t good.

Troubled by the thought of losing another patient, she fussed
over him for several hours. When there was nothing left to do, she went to the
semi to visit Penny. The girl had been tapping Morse code and sending out
bilingual messages.

Lauren settled in the passenger seat to watch Owen’s climbing
progress. Like Garrett, he made a superhuman effort. She kept her fingers
crossed for no aftershocks. Sweat dampened his T-shirt and beaded in his short
hair as concrete debris rained down from the crevice. Either he really wanted
out, or he was trying to impress someone. Penny clenched her hands into tight
fists at her sides, but she didn’t admit she was worried.

Lauren wasn’t going to tell her how to feel about his tattoos.
Owen had made a conscious choice to mark himself as a bigot. They had every
right to treat him like one. She’d heard that men in prison were divided into
racially segregated groups, but she didn’t think they were held down and
branded.

“I can’t stand it any longer,” Penny said.

“Stand what?”

“I have to pee.”

Lauren followed Penny out of the semi and walked her toward the
RV, paying more attention to the aerial spectacle than to their immediate
surroundings.

“Get back inside,” Garrett shouted, keeping his grip on the
rope.

Don stood beside the RV, a baseball bat in one hand. Jeb and
Mickey hovered in the shadows nearby. They appeared ready to raid the supplies
again.

Lauren froze, placing her hand on Penny’s arm.

“What do you want?” Don asked.

“Food and water,” Jeb said, stepping forward. Mickey inched
closer, holding two empty gallon containers. His eyes were swollen and his nose
was mangled. He’d stretched a piece of gray duct tape across the bridge in an
attempt to immobilize it.

Lauren tried not to flinch.

Mickey dropped the containers and kicked them toward Don. “Fill
’em up,” Jeb said. “We want the drugs, too.”

She stifled a gasp of outrage. They had no morphine to spare.
Sam’s condition was serious. If he woke up, she’d need the remaining amount to
keep him comfortable. “I can give you over-the-counter painkillers.”

“Well, that’s not what we asked for, sugar tits. We’ll take the
good stuff.”

Lauren glanced at Garrett, dismayed. He tightened his grip on
the rope, obviously wanting to tell them to go to hell.

Jeb rested his hand on the butt of his gun and looked up at his
former comrade. “How’s it goin’, partner?”

Owen didn’t respond.

“You boys think they’re going to give you a hero medal when
this is through? Maybe a get-out-of-jail free card?”

Mickey laughed with high-pitched glee, but his humor was cut
short by pain. When he winced, touching his fingertips to the dried blood under
his nostrils, she felt a surge of vindictive pleasure. She was glad Garrett had
big, brutal fists.

“I can’t wait to see what happens,” Jeb said with a crooked
smile. “I’m wagering on two broken necks.”

Don made no move to pick up the empty containers. “We gave you
food and water yesterday.”

Jeb’s eyes flashed with anger. “So?”

“You wasted your supplies. We’ve been rationing ours.”

“There’s also a pregnant woman in our group,” Lauren added.

“And she’s a real beauty,” Jeb said, giving Penny an insulting
examination. “Maybe I should...broaden my demands.”

Garrett had heard enough. He secured the rope around the semi
hitch and picked up his crowbar. “In case you didn’t notice, we’re working hard
to get out of here. If you keep stealing our supplies, we’ll all die.”