Aftershock (11 page)

Jeb brandished the weapon from the waistband of his jeans. “In
case
you
didn’t notice, I’m the one with the
motherfucking gun.” He pointed the barrel at Don. “Now give me the goddamned
food and water, Grandpa!”

Muttering curses, Don grabbed the containers and went into the
RV. He returned with two gallons of water and a bag of canned goods. “This is
almost everything we have,” he said. “You’re killing us.”

Jeb turned the gun on Lauren. “Morphine. All of it.”

She had a vial of ketamine in her pack. Hoping they wouldn’t
know the difference, she wrapped it up for them, along with two syringes, and
handed the package to Don. He shoved it into a cardboard box with the food and
water.

“Bring it halfway and set it down,” Jeb ordered.

Don did as he was told, backing off with his hands raised.
Mickey lumbered forward to pick up the box.

Jeb kept his weapon trained on Don. “Next time, I won’t be so
nice,” he promised, retreating into the dark.

Bastard.

As soon as Jeb and Mickey were gone, Penny let out a little cry
and grabbed onto Lauren’s arm. Liquid rushed from beneath her skirt, making a
small puddle on the ground. Penny looked from it to Lauren, aghast.

“Did your water just break?” she asked.

Penny gathered the front of her skirt away from her legs,
clutching the fabric in a trembling fist. “I—I don’t know.”

Lauren didn’t want to embarrass her. Maybe her bladder had
emptied; it wasn’t uncommon for pregnant women, especially in a frightening
situation. “Let’s go in the RV and check you out.”

Don stepped aside to let them pass, almost tripping in his
haste. Garrett went back to the rope to let Owen down. Penny climbed into the
motor home ahead of Lauren, still holding her skirt out of the way.

“Omigosh,” Cadence said, gaping at Penny’s wet thighs. “Is the
baby coming out?”

Penny’s face crumpled with anxiety.

“Do you mind if Cadence stays here while I examine you?” Lauren
asked.

“No,” she said.

“Lay back on the bed and I’ll take a look.” She helped Penny
strip off her wet underwear. The white fabric was soaked with what appeared to
be healthy amniotic fluid, not urine. “Cady, can you hold her hand for me?”

Cadence sat down beside Penny, clasping her outstretched
hand.

Lauren put on her gloves and prepared Penny for a pelvic exam.
“I’m going to see if you’re dilated at all.”

“Okay.”

Although she’d never delivered a baby, Lauren knew the basics.
Penny winced in discomfort when Lauren measured her cervix. “You’re only about
two centimeters,” she said, removing her gloves. “That’s good.”

“Why?”

“It means your body’s not ready yet.”

“Am I in labor?”

“Not necessarily,” she hedged. “Have you had any
contractions?”

“I felt a cramping pain, just now. Outside, I mean.”

Lauren checked her watch, arranging Penny’s skirt over her
legs. “When your contractions are less than five minutes apart, and regular,
we’ll call it labor. Even after that, it could be a long wait. Hours or
days.”

That news seemed to calm Penny down a little. “Days?”

“Sure. We could be rescued first.”

“I still have to pee.”

Lauren told her to go ahead, forcing a smile. First-time
mothers usually labored for at least twelve hours, but she doubted they’d be
rescued before then. The best they could hope for was a quick, easy birth with
no complications.

She stayed beside Penny for about ten more minutes, checking
her vital signs. Everything looked normal. Cadence held her hand as another mild
contraction came. Lauren noted the time and duration.

“I’m thirsty,” Penny said, moistening her lips.

Lauren tried the faucet and noted that Don hadn’t been
exaggerating the water situation. It was dry as a bone. They had a few plastic
containers stashed in the cabinets, however. She grabbed one for Penny.

“I’ll be right back. Try to rest and relax.”

Penny’s eyes filled with tears. She nodded, taking a deep
breath.

Lauren left her with Cadence and stepped out of the RV. Garrett
and Don had lowered Owen from the ceiling. He was sitting on the broken asphalt,
sweating. They appeared to be having a powwow.

“How is she?” Garrett asked.

“Fine,” Lauren said. “In the early stages of labor.”

The three men stared at each other, their expressions grave.
They were hiding something from her.

“It’s going to take several days to break through the
concrete,” Garrett explained. “We can’t do it without water.”

She glanced up at the still-narrow crack in the ceiling, her
throat dry. It was amazing how parched her tissues felt now that she knew she
couldn’t drink as much as she wanted to. “We have the camel pack.”

Owen had been wearing it during his climb. “It’s almost empty,”
he said, looking ashamed, as if he’d wasted it.

“There are a few bottles of water and some sodas in the
RV.”

“How long will that last?” Garrett asked.

One afternoon—if they were stingy with rationing.

“We have to steal the gallons back.”

Her mouth dropped open. “How?”

“There are three of us,” he said, gesturing to his male
comrades, “and only two of them.”

“Jeb has a gun.”

“I’ll sneak up on him.”

She pictured him creeping through the dark and a shiver of fear
coursed down her spine. If Garrett made one false move, Jeb would turn on him
and shoot. Once again, Garrett was ready to jump headfirst into danger. Did he
have a death wish? His appetite for risk indicated that he didn’t value his own
life.

Lauren felt as though she cared more about his safety than he
did. She was terrified he’d get hurt, and not just because he’d been offering
her protection. It pained her to imagine his bullet-riddled body. She didn’t
want to let him out of her sight.

“He’ll kill you,” she said in a furious whisper.

His jaw tightened at her words. “We’re going to wait until
Mickey is drugged. If they both look alert, we won’t approach.”

Lauren didn’t like the plan. Jeb was a walking rattlesnake, and
they wanted to go poke him with a stick. “I kept the morphine, so you’ll have to
be careful. He might not be nodding off into oblivion.”

“What did you give them?”

“Ketamine. It causes disorientation, not necessarily
drowsiness.”

Garrett shrugged one powerful shoulder. “Fine.”

“It can also make the user more prone to violent impulses.”

He gaped at her, incredulous. “You can’t be serious.”

“I’m dead serious.”

“Why would you give them a drug like that?”

“I had no choice, Garrett. I needed to keep the morphine for
us. I’m glad I did, especially now that Penny’s in labor.”

Dragging a hand down his face, he consulted the others. Neither
Don nor Owen seemed interested in abandoning the reckless pursuit. “We don’t
have a choice, either. They took our water, and we’re taking it back.”

“We
do
have a choice,” she said.
“We can wait to be rescued.”

“No,” he said, shaking his head. “We can’t count on anyone
getting to us in three days. And without water, we’ll be too weak to climb.”

Lauren turned to Don for help. Owen was young and impulsive,
and maybe a little crazy, so she couldn’t expect him to back down. But Don, the
most reasonable member of their group, would surely be on her side.

“I’m with Garrett,” Don said.

She looked away, blinking to rid the moisture from her eyes.
They were damned fools. And so was she, apparently. With every waking hour, she
became more attached to these men, and more aggravated by their rash
decisions.

“How long does the drug last?” Garrett asked.

“A few hours, at the most.”

“We’ll go when it gets a little darker.”

Day faded early in the cavern. The crevice was on the east
side, so any sunlight that shone through did so in the morning hours. By early
afternoon, it was almost black. Today seemed dimmer than usual, as if the sky
were overcast. A pall had fallen over the confined space, casting deep shadows
into its recesses. Piles of rubble loomed like hulking brutes. The effect was
menacing, monstrous. Mrs. Engle’s death and Jeb’s threats hung in the air, along
with the unpleasant miasma of charred rubber and gasoline-soaked graves.

“Maybe it will rain,” she said. If they could collect and drink
rainwater, they wouldn’t have to steal the gallons back.

“This is Southern California,” Garrett replied. “It might not
rain for months.”

They had a small lunch of peanut-butter-and-jam crackers.
Cadence was the only one who enjoyed the meal, so Don gave her extra. Lauren
suspected that the men were hungry for meat. She ached for comfort food, like
fresh bread and hot soup.

The snack was unsatisfying, and they didn’t have enough water
to wash down the dry, salty crackers. Don passed around a diet soda, which also
had sodium. Dehydration was going to become a factor, very soon.

After lunch, Lauren peeked in on Sam. Although she found
comfort in fussing over him, she was disturbed by his sunken eyes and slack
form. He needed more IV fluids. She’d have to keep him on a slow drip and hope
for the best.

Garrett met her outside the triage tent. “We’re leaving now. I
want you to stay inside with Penny and Cadence.”

Lauren felt a flash of annoyance. He’d disregarded her concerns
about his well-being. But when he wanted
her
to stay
out of harm’s way, she was supposed to obey? “Fine,” she said, skirting around
him.

He grasped her elbow, holding her prisoner against the
passenger door of the semi. “You know I have to do this.”

“Let me go,” she said from between clenched teeth, close to
tears again.

He didn’t release her. “What if Jeb adds you to his list of
demands?”

“He probably will, after you steal his water.”

“I’m going to take his gun, too,” he admitted. “It’s the only
way.”

“I knew it,” she said, jerking her arm free. “You’re
insane!”

“An ambush is our best chance to disarm him, Lauren. We have to
take advantage of this opportunity.”

“I’ll never forgive you if you get shot.”

His eyes darkened at those words. Instead of promising that
everything would be fine, he cupped his hand around her chin, brushing his thumb
across her cheek. The tears she’d been trying to hide spilled over.

He leaned in, touching his lips to the moisture.

She turned her face to the side. “Don’t.”

He exhaled raggedly against her exposed neck, making her skin
break out in gooseflesh. Although she’d refused his kiss, her body bowed toward
his in an unconscious invitation. He responded to that nonverbal cue. Thrusting
his hand into her hair, he feasted on her neck, dragging his open mouth across
her tender flesh.

She gasped at the sensation, bracing her palms on his chest. He
moved his head to take advantage of her parted lips. With a low groan, he
pressed her against the semi and crushed his mouth over hers.

The kiss didn’t subdue her. She accepted it eagerly, giving as
good as she got, tangling her tongue with his. But, when he broke the contact,
she was still mad. They stared at each other for a few seconds, breathing
hard.

“Is that supposed to win the argument?” she asked.

He let out a startled laugh, raking his fingers through his
hair. “No.”

“Don’t start something you can’t finish, Garrett.”

His gaze dropped from her swollen mouth to her aching body. He
looked away, his throat working in agitation. He wanted to finish her, all
right. But he wouldn’t act on that desire and they both knew it.

“Just—keep your hands off me,” she said, brushing past him. She
hadn’t invited his touch, and she didn’t appreciate being toyed with. If he was
taken, he had no business making sexual advances, no matter how easily she
responded to them.

He made no move to detain her. When she was almost out of
earshot, she heard him slam his fist into the door of the semi.

In anger, self-loathing or frustration, she couldn’t say.

CHAPTER ELEVEN

G
ARRETT
REUNITED
WITH
O
WEN
and Don in front of the motor home.

They hadn’t seen him arguing with Lauren. He’d made sure they
were out of sight. But she’d probably looked angry as she walked by. Her
disheveled hair and just-kissed mouth must have given him away.

Shit.

Don’s eyes twinkled. “Didn’t convince her, did ya?”

“She knows we’re not going just for water.”

A cry of pain rang out from the RV, interrupting their
conversation. It was Penny, having another contraction. She quieted after a few
seconds, but the chill stayed in the air. Lauren had told them that her labor
might last hours. Although they couldn’t help deliver a baby, they could make a
safer environment for it to be born.

Garrett wanted to go now. “Are we ready to do this?”

“I’m ready,” Owen said.

“How are your arms?”

“Not too bad. They’ll probably be worse tomorrow.”

That was good, because Garrett needed Owen’s upper-body
strength today. They put dark jackets over their light-colored shirts and
gathered a cache of weapons. The arsenal included a hunting knife, a crowbar, a
hammer and a baseball bat.

“I have a question,” Owen said, moistening his lips. “Well,
maybe it’s more of a comment.”

“What?”

“Trying to knock them out and tie them up will be dangerous. If
I have to hit Mickey with my hammer, I won’t hesitate.”

Garrett looked at Don, who glanced toward the dark corner, his
brow furrowing. Garrett didn’t want murder to be the first option, but he
understood where Owen was coming from. “Do whatever it takes.”

“You’ll use your knife?”

“Only in self-defense.”

Owen didn’t seem satisfied by that response.

“You think we should go for the kill, instead of a knockout?”
Don asked.

After a short hesitation, Owen nodded.

Don’s brows rose, but not in disapproval. He deferred to
Garrett.

Garrett wasn’t on board with that. “They might be drugged out
of their minds. I’m not going to slit their throats while they’re sleeping.”

“They’d do it to us,” Owen asserted.

“How do you know?”

He just shrugged, as if he considered it basic human nature to
disregard taking another person’s life.

Garrett didn’t blame Owen for the skewed view. He was young,
and he’d spent his formative adult years in prison. Everything he’d learned
about being a man was shaped by that experience.

“Let’s not get ahead of ourselves,” Garrett said. “Mickey has a
broken nose. His vision will be impaired. He’ll probably be disoriented, and
unarmed. If he doesn’t resist, there’s no reason to use deadly force.”

“What about Jeb?”

“He’s the bigger threat by far. I’ll try to take him down with
one swing.”

“That could be fatal,” Don remarked.

“Yeah, well. I won’t cry if it is.”

Owen smiled a little, hooking the hammer in his belt loop. He
also grabbed a metal pipe. Don picked up the baseball bat. Garrett kept the
knife, and slid the crowbar into the empty camel pack on his back. He wanted to
keep his hands free for the approach.

The plan was simple. They’d sneak toward the enemy camp and
surround it. As long as Jeb wasn’t inside the truck, Garrett would strike first.
Owen and Don would follow up immediately with an attack on Mickey.

Silence was key. They couldn’t make a sound before the
ambush.

Under the cover of darkness, they snuck toward Jeb’s corner. As
they got closer, Garrett could smell the stolen chili cooking. His stomach
growled with hunger. He glanced at Owen, whose pale eyes gleamed like a wild
animal’s in the dim light. If Garrett could hazard a guess, he’d say that Owen
was willing, at that moment, to kill for food.

They ducked behind a wall of rubble, the last protective
barrier between them and the truck. Garrett peeked over it, studying the scene.
They’d made a fire in a hubcap. Jeb was sitting on the tailgate, chowing down.
Mickey was slumped over in the passenger seat, snoring.

Garrett needed to hit Jeb from behind. Once he was disarmed, it
didn’t matter which direction Don and Owen came from.

He crouched down low again, deliberating. The configuration of
demolished vehicles was different after last night’s derby. None of the cars
were close enough to provide adequate cover. Garrett would have to sneak around
the truck and hope Jeb didn’t see him.

“I’m going to army-crawl over there,” he whispered to Don and
Owen. “Stay silent. Don’t do anything until I hit him.”

They both nodded in understanding.

Garrett adjusted the crowbar on his back, making sure it was
secure. There was nothing like clinking metal to give away your position. He
weaved through the shadows until he reached the edge of the wall at the west
end. When he could go no farther without catching Jeb’s attention, he dropped to
his belly and started crawling.

The distance between the first blackened vehicle and the second
was easy to traverse. He moved as fast as possible, aware that Jeb’s eye might
be drawn to the motion. Blood thundering in his ears, he slipped behind the next
obstacle.

Had Jeb spotted him?

Apparently not, as no gunfire followed in his wake. Garrett
craned his neck to look around the wheel well. Jeb was in his direct line of
sight, scraping the bottom of the chili can. He tossed aside the trash with a
satisfied belch. To Garrett’s amazement, he grabbed a beer from the back of the
truck and cracked it open, taking a long pull.

These bastards still had alcohol.

Well, good. If Jeb was under the influence, he’d be sluggish
and easier to overtake. From this angle, Garrett could see the butt of the gun,
shoved into the waistband of Jeb’s prison-issue blue jeans.

There was one more car between Garrett and the pickup. It was
just a burned-out frame, offering very little cover. But there was nothing else
to hide behind.

Pulse racing, he bolted into the open space, edging along the
debris-strewn asphalt. Although he tried to move silently, the tips of his boots
scraped the grit. Sharp pebbles bit into his knees and elbows, making him wince.
It seemed to take forever to reach the next car frame. When he did, he felt
dangerously exposed.

He stretched as flat as possible, his heart hammering against
the cold concrete. Jeb took another chug of beer, oblivious.

Garrett took a deep breath and psyched himself up for the final
stretch. He couldn’t stay here long; he was too vulnerable. Jeb was staring at
the embers in the hubcap, and hadn’t glanced in his direction. It was go
time.

As he started crawling again, he made an epic miscalculation.
He’d skirted too close to the car frame. The bent end of the crowbar got caught
in the front bumper, halting his progress and scraping metal against metal.

Jeb heard the telltale sound. He leapt to his feet, brandishing
the gun.

Fuck.

“Who’s there?”

Garrett couldn’t scramble backward, and he sure as hell
couldn’t continue moving forward. Sliding the crowbar free, he rolled underneath
the car and waited, breathless, for Jeb to walk toward him.

* * *

L
AUREN
REJOINED
P
ENNY
and Cadence in the RV, locking the door behind
her.

Both girls looked scared. Penny was about to give birth under
the worst possible circumstances. Cadence’s grandfather had banded with a group
of vigilante marauders. The two were huddled on the bed, clasping hands.

Lauren’s chest tightened at the touching sight. Her feelings
for these girls went deeper than professional concern. She’d grown fond of
them.

“Any more contractions?” she asked Penny.

“Just one.”

Instead of keeping her distance, Lauren climbed in beside
Cadence and covered their linked hands with hers. The closeness felt strange,
but good. Reaching out to others in a nonmedical way was unusual for her.

“My parents do this,” Cadence said, sniffling. “Sometimes, when
I have a nightmare, they both hug me until I fall asleep.”

Lauren’s throat closed up. She hadn’t been allowed to climb
into bed with her parents. Her mother had worn a silk eye mask every night, and
protected her sleep at all costs. Her father, the more affectionate of the two,
had often been away on international flights.

Thinking back, Lauren’s relationship with Michael had been
similar. Due to late shifts and varied schedules, they’d rarely slept together.
When he had come home to crash, he’d preferred separate rooms.

Penny sat forward suddenly, gripping the sheets on the bed. She
cried out in pain, her face twisted into a grimace.

Lauren noted the time and duration of the contraction. It
passed quickly. After about twenty seconds, Penny relaxed. She settled into a
reclining position, her hands splayed across her huge stomach.

“Okay now?” Lauren asked.

“I think so.”

“Baby still moving around?”

“Yes. I just felt a kick.”

Lauren stroked Cadence’s soft hair, pondering her exchange with
Garrett. His behavior had disturbed her on many levels. She didn’t like the idea
of him taking advantage of her feelings, using her attraction against her. But
the kiss hadn’t seemed premeditated. He’d acted as though he couldn’t help
himself.

Again, she wondered what was holding him back. If he had a
girlfriend, was their relationship in trouble? Maybe he’d been planning to break
things off, but hadn’t. Maybe their love had faded.

What if they had children together?

Her stomach clenched with distress. She had to focus on
something else. Worrying about Garrett was making her crazy.

“Do you have brothers and sisters?” Lauren asked Cadence.

“No. It’s just me.”

“I have two little sisters,” Penny said. “One is your age.”

“Eleven?”

“She just turned twelve. She’s a sweetheart, like you. The
other is sixteen and so full of herself.”

Cadence giggled at the description. “I always wanted a sister.
Two sisters, so we could be in a dance group like Destiny’s Child.”

“You like to dance?” Penny asked.

She nodded. “I take ballet and hip-hop.”

“Do you watch
ABDC?
”

“All the time! It’s my favorite show.”

“What show is this?” Lauren asked.

“America’s Best Dance Crew,”
Cadence explained in a rush. “Last season was so amazing. I got the Wii game for
Christmas. It’s supercool. My friends come over and we dance to the songs.”

Lauren tried to remember the last time she’d gone dancing, and
couldn’t. Her social life was sadly lacking. Two of her best friends had gotten
married last year. One moved away, and the other had a baby. Although Lauren had
attended some work functions and family parties in the past few months, it
wasn’t the same as a girls’ night out.

Cadence jumped up to demonstrate a new technique, making Lauren
smile. She was so adorable and full of energy. Even Penny, whose mouth was
pinched with discomfort, seemed to enjoy the girl’s performance.

A sharp crack brought the fun to a halt.

Cady scrambled back toward the bed. “What was that?”

Lauren put her arms around the trembling girl. Over the top of
her hair, she met Penny’s frightened eyes. She wanted to assuage their fears,
but she couldn’t bring herself to lie. “It sounded like a gunshot.”

* * *

O
WEN
WATCHED
THE
events unfold with
disbelief.

If he didn’t do something, Jeb was going to discover Garrett’s
hiding place and open fire. Making a split-second decision, he picked up a chunk
of concrete from the pile of rubble and chucked it at Jeb’s head.

He missed by a few inches.

The rock bounced off Jeb’s left shoulder. He let out a startled
yelp and turned around, swinging the barrel of the gun toward Owen.

Shit.

“What the fuck,” Jeb growled.

Owen ducked down and looked for another rock to throw, but
couldn’t find one. Don stared at him, thunderstruck. They were doomed if they
stayed where they were. They’d be shot at if they tried to flee.

Out of options, Owen lifted Don to his feet and shoved him in
the opposite direction. “Run!”

To his credit, Don took off like a lightning bolt. Owen tore
after him, hoping like hell that Garrett would use this opportunity to escape.
Jeb saw them running, of course, and opened fire. The hard pop of gunshots
echoed in his ears as bullets ripped through the cavern. One split the air near
Owen’s right arm.

Ten feet ahead of him, Don cried out and staggered to the
ground.

He’d been hit.

Owen sailed past him, diving behind a smashed car. Another
bullet penetrated the hood and ricocheted around the engine compartment. He
covered his head with his arms and waited for more gunshots, his body
trembling.

Don’s face was only a few feet away. His eyes were dark with
pain. “Go,” he whispered to Owen.

“Is he coming?”

Don looked over his shoulder, wincing. “I can’t see him.”

Owen didn’t know how many shots Jeb had fired, or how many
bullets he had left, but he wasn’t going to abandon Don. Fuck that. His ears
were ringing so loud that he couldn’t hear approaching footsteps. He snuck a
glance around the side of the car.

Jeb wasn’t coming.

Bastard. He must have gone back for Garrett.

Owen couldn’t do anything about that, so he focused on helping
Don. “Where are you hit?”

“My thigh,” Don said. His face was pale, and he was short of
breath. “It’s bad.”

“Can you walk?”

“I don’t think so.”

Keeping an eye out for Jeb, Owen crawled out from behind the
vehicle. “Roll over so I can drag you,” he whispered. Working together, they got
Don on his back. Owen grabbed him by the arms and pulled him to relative
safety.