Aftershock (21 page)

Garrett shrugged, indifferent. He knew how to handle himself in
a fight. Right now, he’d welcome a physical confrontation.

“Owen’s going to take a beating, too,” Mickey said. “And I’ll
get someone to work over your bitch. I have lots of connects in San Diego. One
of these days, she’ll go out in her ambulance and never come back.”

Owen had a gang of young white criminals at his disposal, so
Garrett wasn’t worried about him. Lauren, however, was off-limits. He’d never
been in love before, and he was fiercely protective of her. She hadn’t been
receptive to his feelings, and there was no future for them, but that didn’t
mean he’d let anyone hurt her.

He slid the end of the flashlight into his tool belt and
removed the hunting knife he’d taken from Sam’s gear bag.

Mickey laughed when he saw it, aware that his last threat had
hit a nerve. “Yeah, she’s a hot little piece, isn’t she? Whoever I send will
tear her ass up.”

He rotated his wrist, letting the blade catch the light. There
was nothing he wouldn’t do for Lauren—including murder. “I think I’ll just kill
you. We already established that I’m not short time. I don’t have much to
lose.”

“Unlock me, so I can defend myself.”

Garrett smiled coldly, thinking about what Mickey had done to
Lauren the first night. What he would have done, given the opportunity. Carving
up this piece of shit would be a service to society. “No.”

His ugly face paled. “You wouldn’t kill a helpless man.”

“Why not? I’ve done it before.”

CHAPTER TWENTY-ONE

O
WEN
COULDN
’
T
EVEN
BEGIN
to process the
devastation.

After nearly a week without sunlight, his eyes stung from the
brightness of the outdoors. He tried to take in a panoramic view before he
climbed down, but it was too chaotic. There were demolished cars and collapsed
buildings everywhere. Along the coast, massive flames arched up toward the sky,
as if the ocean was on fire.

Fear coursed through his veins, urging him to crawl back into
the cavern. It was that bad. He couldn’t look.

Focusing on the rope, instead of the Technicolor apocalypse, he
fed it through the clip at his harness, lowering himself slowly.

Breathe
, Garrett had told him.
Don’t forget to breathe.

The line ran out before he hit the ground. He had no other
choice but to let go and slide down the collapsed freeway. His boots scraped
along the concrete and his palms burned inside his leather gloves. He landed in
a pile of crashed vehicles. Momentum sent him rolling across the hood of a car
and toppling over the passenger side.

Heart racing, he hooked his arm through an open window to break
his fall. It took him a few seconds to gain his bearings. He’d have to climb
over several more cars to reach flat ground. After that, it looked like...hell.
Traffic was bumper-to-bumper as far as the eye could see. If he didn’t pick his
way carefully through the rubble, he’d risk a serious injury.

He assumed that most of the cars in the distance were empty,
abandoned by drivers who couldn’t move forward or back. The closer vehicles were
full of bodies. Owen gagged on the smell of burned and decaying flesh.

“Agua,”
a voice said.

He almost screamed at the sound. Getting his two feet
underneath him, he scrambled upright, looking through the open window. A
dark-haired, heavyset man was trapped inside the car. His large body was wedged
between the steering column and driver’s seat. His skin was the color of ash,
his lips chalky.

There was nothing Owen could do for him.

“Water,” the man repeated.
“Agua, por
favor.”

Owen didn’t think the man could see him. He was staring in his
general direction, but so close to death that his vision had failed.

Garrett had warned him that there would be people who needed
help along the way. There would also be bloodsuckers and thieves, ready to steal
from the dead and prey on the suffering. Owen had promised to move fast and not
stop for anyone. He truly hadn’t thought he’d feel sorry for the wounded. The
first rule of survival in prison was minding your own business, and he’d
mastered it.

Already, he was faced with a horrible dilemma. Should he leave
his water with this man, and have none for himself?

He couldn’t do it. Owen didn’t know how scarce water would be
away from the epicenter, but he needed to drink to survive. If he gave away his
water and didn’t find more, he’d be in big trouble. And so would everyone he’d
left in the cavern.

Gut clenched with regret, he moved on.

For the next thirty minutes, he weaved through the snarl of
parked cars. Most were deserted, and he avoided those that weren’t. It was hard
to avert his gaze. Even in his peripheral vision, the horror was astounding.

Women. Children. Jesus.

He kept moving, his stomach churning with nausea. Tears
streamed down his face, but he felt strangely disconnected from his emotions.
Maybe his eyes were reacting to chemical irritants. It smelled as if some gas
lines had been busted during the quake. The stench of fire and death was thick
in the air.

Uneven roads impeded his progress. There were so many slopes
and fissures that he didn’t bother to look for a bike. He couldn’t have ridden
one.

After he’d gone about a mile, the traffic cleared and the
ground smoothed out. Buildings and houses were damaged, but still standing. He
stopped to take a drink, glancing back at the nightmare he’d emerged from.

Downtown San Diego was unrecognizable. It reminded him of the
pictures he’d seen after the World Trade Center collapsed. Only, this was
nature’s terror attack.

He spotted a BMX in the back of a pickup truck and helped
himself. Climbing aboard, he continued on the deserted freeway. All of the area
residents were dead or they’d evacuated, because Owen didn’t see another human
being for miles.

He didn’t see any rescue crews, either, which concerned him.
Penny and the others might have a long wait. The ambulance couldn’t just drive
up alongside the structure and honk its horn. They’d need a helicopter and some
kind of specialized equipment.

What if he found help, but was turned away? That would be
fucked up. He couldn’t imagine going back empty-handed. He couldn’t imagine
going back, period. There were too many dead bodies. Too much destruction.

Distracted by his thoughts, he didn’t notice the barricade
until he’d almost reached it. Two pimped-out lowriders were parked lengthwise,
blocking several lanes. He could go around them, but not without being seen.

Owen’s pulse raced with anxiety as he slowed to a stop. Four
young men got out of the vehicles, carrying a variety of weapons. He’d
interacted with his share of Mexican gang members in prison, so he recognized
the type.

If they saw his tattoos, he’d be screwed.

He adjusted the hood of his sweatshirt to cover his neck, and
pulled the cuff down over his hand. They probably wanted money, and Garrett had
given him some. After he paid the toll, they’d let him pass.

Taking a deep breath, he moved forward.

Owen hadn’t lied to Penny about his father’s garage. Christian
Jackson had tinkered with a lot of old cars in his spare time. Owen had never
owned an automobile, in cherry condition or otherwise, but he knew quality work
when he saw it.

The El Camino and Monte Carlo had both been fixed up, with
sparkling paint jobs, fat rims and tricked-out hydraulics.

The guys in front of the cars were no slouches, either. They
were pumped with muscle. Maybe they’d done recent time.

A guy with a tire iron stood in front of the group. “We don’t
allow looters in our neighborhood.”

“I’m not looting,” Owen said. “I’m looking for help.”

“You can’t go this way.”

He swallowed dryly. Should he try to explain the situation, or
shut up and search for an alternate route?

“What are you hiding?”

A chill traveled up his spine. “Nothing.”

“Show me your hand.”

Fuck. Again, he considered spilling his guts, but he didn’t
want to look like a coward. So he lifted his cuff to reveal the swastika. The
thorn in his side. If he had to pay this toll with blood, he would.

“Have you been inside?” the guy asked.

“Yes.”

“Where at?”

“Santee Lakes.”

He studied Owen’s lean form with narrowed eyes, as if
contemplating whether or not he was worth fighting.

“I don’t want any trouble,” he said. “My...my girl just had a
baby. She needs a doctor.”

Owen hadn’t expected them to believe him, or to even care. To
his surprise, the guy with the tire iron nodded to his friends. Instead of
beating him to a pulp, as expected, they stepped aside to let him pass.

Maybe their differences didn’t matter anymore. Maybe, after
surviving a major tragedy, they were tired of strife.

He knew he was.

“Thank you,” he said, pedaling around them quickly. His eyes
were acting weird again, but this time, he couldn’t blame it on the smoke.

* * *

L
AUREN
WENT
STRAIGHT
to
the RV after leaving Garrett.

Cadence was playing with Cruz on the bed, smiling when he
clutched her finger. Penny stood by the stove, boiling water for rice. If she’d
overheard Lauren’s argument with Garrett, she didn’t show it. “What’s
wrong?”

“I need to talk to you in private,” Lauren said.

Penny turned down the stove and followed her into the bathroom.
It was a tight squeeze, so Lauren stood in the shower.

“Did you know Garrett was a convict?”

“No,” Penny said, her eyes wide.

“Mickey just told me.”

“Wow.”

“I can’t believe it.”

“What are you going to do?”

“I don’t know. I feel so used.”

“Used?”

Lauren lowered her voice to a whisper. “I slept with him.”

“You did?”

“Yes!”

“How was it?”

“It was—” emotional, intense, amazing. “That’s beside the
point.”

Penny looked disappointed, as if she’d like to hear all the
tawdry details. “Did he wear a condom?”

“Yes.”

She patted Lauren’s shoulder. “Whew. You’re good, then.
Everything will be fine.”

“No, it won’t. He’s going back to prison.”

“You don’t want him to?”

Lauren sank to a sitting position in the shower stall, burying
her hands in her hair. “Damn.”

“What?”

She’d fallen in love with him. “I feel like such a fool!”

“At least you used protection.”

“I never would have slept with him if I’d known he was a
convict.”

“Oh.”

“You don’t believe me?”

“I didn’t say that.”

“Well, I wouldn’t have gotten attached if I’d known.”

Again, Penny seemed skeptical.

“I hate him,” she said, banging her fists against the shower
floor. “I hate men.”

“What was he convicted of?”

“Manslaughter. He killed a guy in a bar fight. It was an
accident, and he feels awful, but that doesn’t change the facts. He’s a
criminal, and he pretended not to be.”

“Why didn’t he tell you?”

“He thought I’d freak out.”

“You
are
freaking out.”

“Only because he kept it from me!” Realizing that she was
becoming shrill, Lauren lowered her voice. “He says he’s in love with me.”

Penny’s face lit up, as if this was good news. “You make a cute
couple.”

“He’s a prisoner.”

“So what?”

She gaped at Penny. “It would never work.”

“Why not?”

“Would
you
date a prisoner?”

Penny smiled ruefully. “No. My father would disown me. He
already thinks I’m trash for getting pregnant.”

“You’re not trash,” Lauren said, stricken. “I hope you don’t
believe that.”

“He sent me to my aunt when I started showing,” she said,
twisting her hands together. “Now she’s dead.... I don’t know what I’m going to
do.”

“Can you go back to your parents?”

“Not unless I give up the baby.”

“You’re kidding.”

“No. They’re very conservative. ‘Pillars of the community’ and
all that. My father thinks the scandal will stain his reputation.”

Lauren found the attitude old-fashioned, but she tried not to
judge. “What about the baby’s father?”

“He doesn’t want us.”

“You can still get child support.”

“No, I can’t. He signed away his rights for a small settlement.
We could live on that for a little while, but...I’ve never been on my own
before. I miss my sisters and my mom. I want to be with my family.”

“Oh, honey.” She rose and put her arms around Penny. “I’m so
sorry.”

“Maybe Cruz would be better off without me.”

Lauren pulled back to study her face. “Do you think so?”

“I don’t know.”

“There’s no shame in adoption, Penny.”

Tears glimmered in her eyes. “Before he came, I couldn’t
imagine what he’d be like. I didn’t want to know if I was having a boy or a
girl, because I thought it might influence my decision. It might have, because I
wanted a girl. But now I can’t imagine living without him. I already...love him
so much.”

“Of course you do,” Lauren said, stroking her hair. “And you’re
doing a great job with him. Talk to your parents again. They’re probably worried
out of their minds right now, wondering where you are, or if you’re even alive.
Maybe they’ll reconsider. Babies have a way of bringing people together.”

Penny didn’t seem convinced, and Lauren felt awful for her.
Here she was, complaining about her unfortunate affair with Garrett. It could be
worse. She could be eighteen and alone with a newborn to take care of.

“How long until Garrett gets out?” Penny asked.

“Years, I think.”

“Would you wait for him?”

Lauren stared at the opposite side of the shower stall,
considering. If Garrett was on deployment, she wouldn’t mind the separation so
much. Being apart for months or years at a time couldn’t be easy, but a lot of
couples stayed together for better or worse.

“I don’t know,” she said, shaking her head.

After she left the bathroom, Lauren continued outside, needing
some time to think. Could she have a lasting relationship with Garrett? Should
she invite Penny to be her roommate? Had she lost her mind?

“This is madness,” she muttered. Almost a week in a dark
cavern, and a series of increasingly traumatic experiences, had robbed her
ability to form rational decisions. She couldn’t be held accountable for her
mental state.

Falling in love with a felon—maybe
she
should be committed.

Garrett was in the semi, messing with the radio. She headed the
opposite direction to avoid another confrontation. She wasn’t ready to forgive
him, or even speak to him. Her feelings were so raw and new, she didn’t know if
they were real.

The cavern seemed too quiet. Mickey wasn’t making any
noise.

Frowning, she approached the car he was chained to, peering
around the back bumper. Mickey was lying in a crumpled heap on the ground, his
head turned away. He looked dead or unconscious.

As if someone had beaten him.

Her stomach dropped. Had Garrett exacted some jailhouse-style
revenge on Mickey? Appalled by the thought, she crept forward to examine him.
His body was a shadowed mound between two vehicles, completely motionless. She
couldn’t tell if he was breathing. Before she knelt down to check his pulse, she
hesitated.