“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.
* * *
LAUREN 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.”
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 p
robably 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.
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