Jill Sorenson - Aftershock

Garrett returned with Don, holding a crowbar at his side. He studied the newcomer in an openly adversarial manner.

Lauren finished with the IV and came forward. She remembered the young man’s name: Owen. Did he know what his comrades had been up to last night? Was he a sexual predator, as well as a convict and a racist?

Unfortunately, those questions went unanswered.

Jeb’s voice rang out from the back of the cavern. “Get some food, Owen.” He flicked on a flashlight to reveal his location. He was standing next to an empty car, gun shoved in the waistband of his pants.

Owen flinched at the command, as if he didn’t like being ordered around. But Jeb had the gun, so he was in charge. The younger man scanned the group he’d been told to steal from, and found no sympathizers. His gaze settled on Garrett, their obvious leader.

“We’ll share on one condition,” Garrett said, speaking directly to Jeb.

Jeb smirked. “What’s that?”

“Keep your boys in line. No more...visits.”

Lauren frowned at the innocuous-sounding characterization. Mickey had sexually assaulted her, not dropped in uninvited for tea.

Jeb seemed insulted by Garrett’s suggestion that he didn’t have control over his cronies. “I don’t think Mickey’s up for another visit, thanks to you. But we’ll stay out of your hair.” He winked at Lauren. “Ma’am.”

When Garrett nodded, Don packed up a box of their much-needed supplies.

She wondered if Owen was cut from the same cloth as Mickey and Jeb. Maybe he didn’t want to do this. Clearly, he had no choice. When Don handed him the box, Owen fumbled for a moment, almost spilling the contents on the ground. With a terse thank-you, and one last glance at Penny, he returned to his crew.

Lauren moved to stand beside Garrett, her hands clenched into fists. The lines between factions had been drawn. Their side had a lot more to lose.

Feeling helpless, she looked up at Garrett. Yesterday, Jeb had been spoiling for a fight. They might try to isolate Garrett and take him out. Without him in the picture, Jeb would have free rein. Lauren and Don couldn’t stand up to three men with a gun.

“What’s to stop him from shooting at you?” she asked.

“Common sense.”

“I don’t trust him.”

He deliberated for a moment. “I’ll clear more space around the RV so there’s nothing to hide behind. Don and I will take turns keeping watch.”

She nibbled her lip, worried.

“He’s not going to shoot at me, Lauren.”

“Why not?”

“Because I’m the best chance they have of escaping. I’m collecting all the resources, doing all the work.”

Lauren didn’t have to ask what would happen when their resources were gone. She already knew. If they ran out of water, they wouldn’t have to worry about getting shot. They’d die of thirst in three days.

CHAPTER FOUR

GARRETT NEEDED A gun.

He’d already looked near the northeast corner, where the prisoner transport vehicle had been. Jeb must have taken the 9mm from the guard, but Garrett couldn’t find him. He’d probably been crushed under the wall of concrete during the first aftershock.

Lauren accompanied Garrett to search the cars for supplies. He hoped one of the glove compartments would yield a weapon. He should have thought of this yesterday. Then he would have been able to prevent the attack.

“Did you see the way Owen stared at Penny?” she asked.

Garrett kept the RV in sight as he attempted to pry open a trunk with his crowbar. It hadn’t escaped his attention that Penny was easy on the eyes. Owen had taken a good look. “What about it?”

“I’m worried that the convicts won’t stay away like they promised. Especially now that they’ve seen her.”

He continued to wrestle with the trunk, sweat dampening his forehead. The vehicle was half-crushed, which made it difficult to open.

“Maybe they’ll come after her next.”

“I hope not,” he said. “But if they do, I’ll be more prepared.”

Garrett knew he had his work cut out for him. He was trapped in a collapsed structure with two beautiful women, and a group of men who hadn’t touched one in years. Jeb and Mickey apparently had no qualms about rape. They’d probably have gone after anything female, but Lauren’s sexy figure didn’t help matters. Garrett had tried not to notice her as a woman, and failed. His mouth went dry whenever she got close to him.

Penny was too young and too...pregnant...for his tastes. She had a full-grown baby inside her. He couldn’t be certain how the other men felt, but he hoped her condition would be a powerful deterrent against assault.

“What about Cadence?”

The crowbar almost slipped from his grip. “No,” he said, sickened by the thought. “They wouldn’t.”

“Why not?”

He stopped messing around with the trunk and leveled with her. “There’s a code against hurting kids in prison. Pedophiles get the same done to them—or worse.”

She didn’t ask how he knew that. “We’re not in prison. Whatever rules they follow in there don’t apply.”

Garrett didn’t necessarily agree. This was very much like prison. They’d already established a hierarchy and formed alliances. After living the same routine day by day, rules and structures weren’t easily shed. “You’re the most desirable target,” he said flatly. “If anything, they’ll make another move on you.”

Her cheeks paled. He suspected that she felt more comfortable focusing on the well-being of others. So did he, but he’d learned the hard way to put himself first. Dead men couldn’t save anyone else.

She stared at the RV, crossing her arms over her chest. “Well, I should warn them anyway.”

“Good idea. Tell them exactly what happened to you.”

Her soft mouth twisted into a frown.

Garrett turned his attention back to the crumpled trunk, concentrating on creating a wedge for the crowbar. He didn’t want to replay the events from last night in his head. Seeing her in a state of dishabille had disturbed him on many levels. He had to admit that not all his feelings toward her were protective.

How different was he from Jeb and Mickey?

He’d been in dark places and done terrible things. Situations like this turned good men into animals. Maybe there was a reason she’d thought it was him attacking her. He was certainly capable of violence. And—he wanted her. A primitive part of him had been excited by her torn clothes and exposed flesh.

Putting all his frustrations into the task at hand, he wrenched the trunk open with a grunt of exertion.

Jackpot.

The owner of this vehicle was Lauren’s coma patient. He’d been wearing hiking boots, and he had a national parks pass. His truck was full of climbing gear.

“What’s that?” Lauren asked.

He removed a backpack loaded with carabiners, ropes and pulleys. “It might be our way out of here,” he said, glancing at the narrow crack that snaked along the easternmost wall of the structure. A few stories up, near the top, there was a crevice that appeared wide enough to stick his arm through.

“You can’t be serious,” she said, following his gaze.

“We can fit an SOS flag through there. If the roads are blocked, our best chance of being seen is from the air.”

“Are you an experienced climber?”

“No, but I’ve done some parachuting.”

“Well, that’s practically the same thing,” she said with false brightness. “Collapsed freeway, open sky. We’re saved!”

He smiled at her sarcasm, taking no offense. “I meant that I’m familiar with heights and safety gear. Pararescue is all about rope work. But there’s no guarantee anyone will notice our flag, even if I can get up there.”