Aftershock (6 page)

When he saw Penny standing by the semi, he froze.

She didn’t even think of brandishing the pruning shears.
Lifting her chin, she stared back at him. He looked awful. There were shiny
black crescents under both eyes. The tattooed script along his neck and arms
reminded her of newspaper.

He was a walking advertisement for hate.

His demeanor didn’t quite match the outside. He was tall and
scary, but he didn’t appear comfortable in his skin. There was no hint of
derision or arrogance. If anything, he seemed uncertain. Or...fascinated.

With what—her hideously misshapen form?

Don picked up his baseball bat in a challenging manner.

Owen tore his gaze away from Penny, blinking a few times, as if
he’d seen a bright light. “I found a bag of toys and stuff in one of the cars,”
he said, setting the package down. “It’s nothing we can use.”

They were all silent for several beats.

“What kind of toys?” Cadence asked.

He looked from Don to her, the corner of his mouth quirking.
“The Nintendo DS might interest you. It’s got ‘Mario Kart.’”

“I’ve never played that game,” she said shyly.

“You haven’t? It’s pretty fun.”

Penny couldn’t imagine why he’d brought the device to Cadence.
Most young men enjoyed video games just as much as kids. Under these
circumstances, anything that could be used to pass the time was invaluable.

“There’s some baby blankets, too,” he said, glancing at Penny
again. “They look new.”

Don didn’t thank him or set aside his bat. He kept his hand on
Cadence’s shoulder, preventing her from moving forward.

For some reason, the baby items sent Penny over the edge. She
was terrified of going into labor before they were rescued. Owen’s “gift”
reminded her of her worst nightmare. How dare he waltz into this side of the
cavern and stir up her fears? How dare he flash his white-power tats in front of
a proud Mexicana and a mixed-race girl?

“Get out of here,” she said, her fingers closing over the
handle of the pruning shears. If he tried anything, she’d snip his face.

He flinched at the harsh words, a flush creeping up his neck.
Either from shame or anger, she couldn’t tell. But he didn’t step closer or talk
back to her. Nodding politely, he turned away, limping into the dark.

As soon as he was gone, Don retrieved the paper bag. He found
the game player and a purple-haired doll with black button eyes for Cadence. “Go
back inside now,” he said, passing her the items.

Cradling both in her arms, she returned to the RV.

Don rifled through the remaining contents, as if making sure
they were safe, before he handed the bag to Penny.

Her throat tightened when she saw the soft blankets inside. Her
aunt had taken her shopping for baby items last week. It seemed like a year ago.
She’d purchased some unisex clothes and accessories, along with a big box of
newborn diapers. Tyler hadn’t bought her anything, of course. He hadn’t sent a
single gift.

She resented Owen for doing more than the baby’s father.

Not that she took his gesture at face value. He might be
planning to steal the rest of their food. One of his buddies had tried to rape
Lauren last night. She didn’t know why those men had been in jail, and she
wasn’t going to let her guard down.

Garrett and Lauren returned from their supply run, arms filled
with miscellaneous items. Nothing Penny was interested in. She would have killed
for an orange. The only fruit they had left was a spotted banana.

“Is it okay if I take Cadence back to the semi with me?” she
asked Don. “I can show her how to do Morse code.”

He agreed, perhaps intending to speak with the others about
Owen. Penny was torn between staying and going. She wanted to be treated like an
adult, but the responsibility was overwhelming. Being pregnant, in itself, was a
chore.

Cadence brought her doll and game device with her. Penny, who
had played “Super Mario Kart” once before, gave her some tips. To Penny’s
surprise, the girl set the device aside after a few minutes.

“Why’d you tell that man to go away?” she asked.

“Because I’m afraid of him. You should be, too.”

She shrugged. “He seems nice.”

“Do you know what that tattoo on his hand means?”

Cadence’s face became troubled. “Yeah. My mom told me to stay
away from people like him. They hate us.”

Penny was relieved that she didn’t need to explain, but she
felt sad for Cadence. A girl her age shouldn’t have to deal with ignorance and
hate.

“What if he made a mistake?” Cadence asked. “Some people get
tattoos and feel sorry about it later. I saw a girl on MTV who had her name
spelled wrong on the back of her neck. That was pretty dumb.”

“He’s got a lot of tattoos. They can’t all be mistakes.”

“I think he likes you,” she said.

Penny recoiled from the notion. Smoothing a hand over her
watermelon-size stomach, she glanced at her reflection in the rearview mirror.
If Owen found her deformed figure attractive, he had really bad taste. But
they’d already established that.

“One of the other men attacked Lauren,” Penny warned, frowning
at herself.

“I know. My grandpa told me. He doesn’t want us to get
hurt.”

Don had been kind to Penny, and for that, she was grateful. She
hoped he didn’t consider her a bad influence on Cadence. Some people—like her
parents—disapproved of pregnant teenagers. They ignored her or gave her dirty
looks.

Since she’d started showing, she’d felt like a pariah.

“Don’t worry,” Cadence said, putting her arms around Penny. “We
won’t let anyone attack you. I’m pretty sure Owen wouldn’t do that, but the rest
of us will be watching out. You’re safe here.”

She’d meant to comfort Cadence, not be comforted by her. But
the girl’s embrace felt warm and sweet, and Penny didn’t have the heart to pull
away.

CHAPTER SIX

G
ARRETT
SPENT
MOST
of the
morning searching the vehicles.

He found a blowtorch and some welding tools, along with a
crateful of aerosol cans. The spray paint and lacquer could be used like
mace.

There were no concealed firearms in the vehicles, as far as he
could tell. That was unfortunate. He collected an arsenal of blunt objects and
chemical irritants, but those weapons were useless at a distance. Jeb wasn’t
going to put down his gun and engage in hand-to-hand combat. Not by choice,
anyway.

He needed to climb the wall before sundown or he wouldn’t be
able to see anything with the mirror. So they gave up the search and went back
to the RV for a lunch of beef jerky and rice with baby carrots.

The carrots were the last of the fresh food. They still had
some dry goods, a dozen cans of soup and a large jug of apple juice. Lauren
found a jar of raspberry jam and a tub of peanut butter in one of the cars.
Those items would go a long way. Supplies of everything else, especially water,
were dwindling.

Garrett tried to limit his consumption of liquids, but he was
doing thirsty work and he couldn’t afford to get dehydrated. They all needed
water to stay alive. Penny was drinking for two. He didn’t even bother to warn
Don about using water. It wasn’t as if anyone in their group was washing clothes
or taking showers.

They couldn’t even wash their
hands
. Garrett had used Lauren’s hospital wipes once or twice when he’d
gotten really filthy, but otherwise he ignored the grit. He assumed that he
looked and smelled like a vagrant.

Don was in charge of rationing the food, and he took the job
very seriously. He’d been giving them just enough to keep going. The water would
run out first, so there was no reason to starve themselves.

As he studied the climbing gear, Garrett realized he’d been
overly optimistic about his abilities. He had no experience with the sport. He’d
done a few HALO jumps, and navigated some treacherous terrain, but he wasn’t a
paratrooper or a rescue expert. His knowledge of rope systems and safety
equipment was limited.

He winced, looking at the wall in front of him. It wasn’t just
sheer; it sloped inward. There were no hand or footholds, just flat concrete. A
hairline crack started about six feet up and zigzagged into a narrow crevice
near the top corner. The distance between the crevice and the floor was at least
thirty feet. If he fell, and his gear didn’t hold, he might not die, but a
broken leg was a fate worse than death in here.

Garrett wavered for a moment, mulling over the consequences.
Lauren and the others needed him to stay healthy. But if they failed to
communicate with the outside world, they might not be rescued for weeks. Their
water supply would last another day or two at the most. He had to try to hang
that flag.

Decision made, he donned the safety harness, adjusting it to
fit his larger frame. The owner of the equipment had a lean build, which was
probably ideal for rock climbing. Garrett didn’t carry any excess weight, but he
was heavier than Sam Rutherford. He hoped he wouldn’t snap the lines.

The bag was full of square-shaped metal pieces, wire loops and
aluminum clips. There were also some round wedge-type things. He couldn’t use
those until he got up higher, as the crack wasn’t wide enough for them at the
bottom.

He’d thought about getting started up the wall by standing on
the roof of a car, or stacking a few crates on top of each other, but he wanted
to get the hang of climbing before he was too high up.

The kit included a small pickax, which he used to notch a space
about three feet under the crack on the wall. He stuck one of the squares into
it. When it felt secure, he did the same thing a few feet up, at the base of the
crack.

“So far, so good,” he said under his breath, glancing back at
Lauren. She and Don were working on a pop-up tent for the triage space. Her
patients would be better protected inside the canvas shelter.

He turned back to his task. The metal squares had wire loops
connected to them. He put his right foot in the lower loop and grabbed the
higher one with his left hand, pulling himself up. He felt more like a gorilla
than a monkey. His oversize boot scraped against the concrete as he fought for
balance.

Christ, this wasn’t easy. And he was only three feet up.

When he felt confident that he wasn’t going to fall backward
and crack his head open, he clipped his belt to the higher loop. He was
reluctant to let go, but he needed both hands to make another notch. Using
extreme caution, he released the loop and leaned back, testing the security of
the harness.

The metal square snapped out of the concrete and he stumbled,
putting his left foot down. His knee buckled and he tried to jerk his right leg
out of the loop. He got tripped up and landed on his ass, one leg in the
air.

Thankfully, his skull didn’t hit the concrete.

He unhooked his boot and glanced around, feeling sheepish.
Lauren was striding toward him with a protective helmet under one arm. She
looked upset. He scrambled to his feet, smiling to let her know he wasn’t
hurt.

“Just like skydiving?” she said, shoving the helmet at him. It
hit him in the stomach like a not-so-playful punch.

“Once I’m up
there,
it will be more
like skydiving.”

She followed his gaze to the top. “Except, no parachute.”

“Right.”

When her eyes reconnected with his, he read the fear and anger
in them. She was mad at him for scaring her. He hadn’t experienced female
concern in so long, he almost couldn’t recognize it. This level of emotion was
foreign to him. He marveled for a moment, soaking it in. “I’ll be okay,” he
said.

She crossed her arms over her chest, frowning at the ground
where he’d just fallen.

“I think I’m doing it wrong.”

“Then why risk getting injured?”

“If I can’t get the hang of it this afternoon, I won’t keep
going.”

She let out a ragged breath and walked away, her hands clenched
into tight fists. He stared at her retreating form for a few seconds too long.
She had a cute little butt. In another life, he might have tried to get lucky
with her.

In this life, he wasn’t free to pursue female company, and the
only person he got lucky with was himself.

Flushing, he turned his attention back to the wall. Taking a
quick drink from his camel pack, he stuck the helmet on his head and reevaluated
the gear. The lower square had stayed secure because it was lodged against a
piece of rebar.

He glanced up at the crevice, where the crosshatch of rebar was
more exposed. The structural component helped reinforce the concrete. Not enough
to prevent it from buckling, in this case, but well enough to keep them trapped.
Even if he could chisel his way through the concrete layer, the bands of rebar
created an effective metal prison.

He repositioned the higher square against a piece of rebar,
putting his weight on the loop to test its strength. This time, it held. Using
the loops as footholds was awkward and unfeasible. He needed to attach clips to
the loops, secure a lead rope to the wall and thread it through the clips as he
progressed.

Frowning, he took a fifty-foot rope from his pack and attached
it to his harness. He’d have to ascend the wall, little by little. The only
problem was that he couldn’t anchor the other end of the rope.

This was a two-man job.

Don had greater upper-body strength than Lauren. Garrett called
him over. “Can you hold the line and give me slack when I need it?”

“Be glad to,” he said, picking it up.

Garrett realized that Don couldn’t handle his full weight for
more than a few seconds. He’d have to use another line for climbing. He attached
a clip to the upper loop and threaded a shorter rope through it, gripping one
end in his hands and attaching the other to his belt. This way, Don’s line was
just for safety.

Leaning back, he braced his boots against the wall. At the same
time, he pulled on the shorter rope, climbing fist over fist. He made slow
progress, walking up the wall carefully. It was a hell of an upper-body workout.
He wished he wasn’t so goddamned heavy. Finally, his harness was even with the
upper loop. Grasping the rope with his left hand, he used his right to clip the
loop directly to his belt.

“Hold the line steady, but don’t pull on it unless this
breaks,” he said to Don.

“Got it,” Don replied.

When he let go of the rope, his harness held tight, anchored to
the wall by a well-placed metal square.

He exhaled a pent-up breath.

Don gave him a nod of encouragement. They both knew he had a
long haul ahead of him. The safety line was no guarantee against injury. But,
unlike Lauren, Don didn’t belabor those details. He understood what needed to be
done.

Working quickly, Garrett placed another metal square higher in
the crevice. He attached a clip, threaded the short rope through and pulled
himself up.

His biceps were already burning, and he’d have to repeat this
process about ten times, or every three feet. Instead of focusing on the pain
and difficulty, he concentrated on the task and let his mind go blank.

It was just like running ten miles or humping ninety pounds of
gear through the desert. You did it one step at a time, one foot in front of the
other. Unpleasant tasks were accomplished inch by inch, end over end.

As the crevice widened, each metal square was more easily
placed. The climbing became increasingly difficult, however. By the time he
reached the top, he was shaking from exertion and dripping sweat.

He couldn’t celebrate his victory, or even take the flag out of
his pack. Hanging from the ceiling, suspended by his harness, he rested for a
moment, waiting for the feeling to come back into his hands.

Glancing over his left shoulder, he saw that Jeb’s corner was
still and quiet. He hoped it would stay that way.

Lauren had joined Don at the end of the rope. That was good. If
he fell, they would both have to bear his weight.

Although she didn’t say anything, he could read the concern on
her face. Garrett didn’t blame her. He’d made it all the way up here, and now he
didn’t know if he could hang the damned flag, let along climb back down.

He took a drink of tepid water and tried to reenergize. At boot
camp, one of his instructors had stressed the importance of a healthy
imagination. He’d claimed that Marines who could visualize a happy place during
their downtime were better able to deal with the trials and tribulations of
deployment.

Garrett’s favorite coping mechanism was fantasizing about sex.
There was no happier place than between a woman’s legs.

He pictured Lauren writhing underneath him, her lips parted in
ecstasy.

Then he took a deep breath and flexed his hands, focusing on
reality. Directly above him, a strip of smoky-blue sky peeked through the
crevice. The glimpse of the outside world bolstered his spirits further.

Garrett understood the benefits of sunlight better than most
people. Fresh air was a precious commodity to humans in confinement. Without it,
men became monsters. He knew that from experience.

He reached into his pack for the mirror. His movements were
clumsy from fatigue and he fumbled, almost dropping it. The fact that he was
suspended in a reclining position didn’t help. He kept his grip on the wire
hanger but leaned back too far. His helmet slipped off and tumbled through the
air before smashing on the ground.

Fuck.

Lauren stared at the cracked helmet in horror, as if it was his
head. Even Don appeared distressed.

Garrett couldn’t afford to panic, and looking down made him
feel queasy, so he returned his attention to the crevice. The rebar barrier left
open spaces that were almost large enough to accommodate his hand. He slipped
the mirror past the barrier and squinted at the too-bright reflection.

The sun was out. That was all he could see, and it was
enough.

He didn’t want to expend too much effort looking around when
his top priority was hanging the flag. Instead of removing the mirror, he
pointed it upward and bent the wire around the rebar. Reflective flashes could
be seen for miles. Then he took the flag from his pack and passed it through the
crevice.

Don had attached the fabric to a wooden pole with a tie on one
end. Garrett tied the pole to the rebar and hoped the flag wouldn’t fly away in
the wind.

He had one more task to complete, which was checking for cell
phone service. It was worth a shot, even though power was down all over the
county. As he wrestled the phone from his pocket, he started swaying in
midair.

Uh-oh.

An aftershock rumbled through the structure, ripping the phone
from his hand. Concrete bits rained on his face and several metal squares popped
simultaneously. He fell about ten feet, gritting his teeth as the harness
caught. The force of motion sent him swinging like a kamikaze trapeze toward the
far wall.

He slammed into it at full speed, cracking the side of his
head. Pain radiated from his shoulder to his hip, which had taken the brunt of
the impact. The last thing he heard before darkness descended was Lauren’s
terrified scream.

* * *

I
T
TOOK
EVERY
OUNCE
of strength she possessed to keep her grip on
the rope.

Don was working just as hard as she was, if not harder, but
they couldn’t hold on much longer. Garrett was so heavy. His body was slack and
lifeless, head thrown back, arms and legs dangling at his sides.

What if he didn’t wake up?

Lauren shouted for Penny. They needed all the help they could
get. The teenager was at her side in a split second, Cadence in tow. Both girls
grabbed a section of the rope, easing the tension slightly.