CHAPTER TEN
OWEN HEARD PENNY climb into the Kenworth truck and slam the door, but he didn’t turn his head toward the sound.
He’d already been caught leering.
Garrett had seemed amused by his preoccupation with her, and Owen understood why. The situation was laughable. She wasn’t just hostile and unattainable, she was pregnant. No dark-skinned girl would date him, either. The only women he had a chance with were Aryan Brotherhood groupies and trailer-park whores.
Scratch that. To have a chance, you had to have access. He had nothing.
“You like her,” Garrett commented.
“No,” he lied.
“If you touch her, I’ll kill you.”
Owen looked into Garrett’s eyes, startled. Unlike Jeb and Mickey, he wasn’t a big talker. He meant what he said. “I wouldn’t touch her. That’s...sick.”
Garrett grunted, unconvinced. “How old are you?”
“Twenty-one.”
“Been in long?”
“Three years.”
“Look, I can’t blame you for staring. I’m just letting you know how it is.”
“You don’t have to worry about that,” Owen assured him. “I’m not like Mickey.”
“What’s he been saying?”
Owen didn’t want to repeat it. Garrett had already issued one death threat, and they hadn’t even been talking about Lauren.
“Are they planning anything?” Garrett pressed.
“I don’t know. They hardly spoke to me.”
“What did they say to each other?”
“A lot of bullshit. They want to make you pay for breaking Mickey’s nose. They’d like to get their hands on Lauren.”
His mouth tightened with anger. “How much time are they doing?”
“Jeb’s a lifer. Mickey is almost up for parole.”
“Did they send you over here?”
“Hell, no,” Owen said, affronted. “I told you why I came. I want to get out of this place, not drink myself stupid.”
“They have more alcohol?”
“A few beers, maybe. The hard stuff is gone.”
Garrett hesitated a few seconds before broaching a new subject. “Lauren and the others don’t know where I’m from.”
“No shit,” Owen said, rolling his eyes.
“If she found out, she wouldn’t let me protect her.”
He smirked. “Or let you do anything else to her.”
“It’s not about that.”
Owen didn’t believe him, but he just shrugged. If Garrett wanted to pretend he wasn’t dying to bang Lauren, it was no skin off his back.
He also didn’t understand why Garrett seemed so torn over the deception. Owen had been raised to lie, cheat and steal. In his experience, the only time men regretted this kind of behavior was after they got caught.
Garrett cleared his throat, glancing up at the ceiling of the structure again. “I think this job needs to be done in stages. We have to chip away a lot more of the concrete before cutting the rebar.”
Owen nodded his agreement. He wasn’t in any hurry to fire up the torch. Although he was confident in his skills, the cutting work would be dangerous, like using a chain saw while hanging upside down.
“You have any experience with heights?” Garrett asked.
“Nope.”
“I can do the chipping and you can do the cutting. Or, you can teach me how to use the torch, and I’ll do both.”
“No,” Owen said. “I’ll do both.”
“You’ll get tired.”
“You’re already tired.”
Garrett narrowed his eyes. “Says who?”
“I saw you fall yesterday.”
“You’ve been watching us the whole time?”
Owen didn’t answer. He’d been trying to catch a glimpse of Penny. Seeing her up close gave his system a jolt. He thought he was getting used to it, but when she’d walked by in that blue dress, his heart had jumped into his throat.
“I’m not tired, but my shoulder and arm muscles are sore. Climbing that wall without handholds was a real bitch.”
“I can imagine,” Owen said. “I think my lighter weight will be an advantage.”
Garrett had completed the most difficult task yesterday by securing the climbing rope to the wall. During the aftershock, only the top two clips had busted loose. Owen would have to place some new anchors, preferably on both sides of the crevice. He’d also need to get comfortable, because breaking up the concrete might take all day.
“I wish we had some sort of pulley device,” Garrett muttered, searching through the gear. “That way we could go up and down without any trouble.”
Don helped them rig a simple system to lift Owen straight up in the air. The rope was still hanging from the uppermost clip, where Garrett had left it. They attached one end of the rope to Owen’s harness, and the other to the semitruck hitch.
As Garrett pulled the rope, Don took up the slack and wound it around the hitch to keep it from slipping.
The ascent wasn’t effortless, but it was faster than the technique Garrett had used yesterday. The main advantage was that Owen could save his strength for chipping. He reached the top clip without breaking a sweat.
Garrett held the rope steady, nodding at Owen to get started.
Owen turned his attention to the wall above him. He was only about twenty feet off the ground, but it seemed like a steep drop. Things shifted during earthquakes, and another aftershock could hit at any moment.
He didn’t feel very safe, hanging from a crumbling wall.
Putting the danger out of his mind, he focused on shortening the distance to the crevice. Instead of wedging a metal square into the cracks, as Garrett had, Owen hooked one of the clips directly to the rebar.
Pulse racing, he threaded his short rope through the clip. Now the lead rope was just a backup, and he had to climb higher on his own. With shaking hands, he pulled on the short rope, his muscles straining. It was a lot harder than it looked, and Garrett hadn’t made it look easy. When his harness was even with the clip, he attached them.
Christ. He wiped the sweat from his forehead, glancing down at Garrett.
“How’s it going?”
“It sucks,” Owen replied.
Garrett laughed in agreement.
Undeterred by the difficulty, Owen secured another clip to the rebar and heaved himself up another few feet. Twice more, and he was at the summit, panting like a worn-out dog. He attached two clips to the exposed rebar and hung suspended from his harness. It took a minute to catch his breath.
When he was ready, he removed the hammer and stake from his tool belt. Placing the pointy tip of the metal stake against the edge of the crack, he drew back his arm and struck the blunt end. A walnut-size piece of concrete broke loose and fell to his right. Owen made the mistake of watching it hurtle toward the ground.
He squeezed his eyes shut and tightened his grip on the hammer, fighting vertigo. Nausea and dizziness slammed into him.
“Breathe,” Garrett said.
Owen sucked in oxygen, his heart racing. After a few gulps, the prickly sensation eased. He lifted the hammer again, determined to keep going. On his second attempt, the concrete didn’t budge. His third strike loosened another tiny piece.
Because he was reclining so far back, his arms were already tired. The hammer felt like it weighed twenty pounds.
This wasn’t working. He was going to fail.
Discouraged by his slow progress, he stared at the red SOS flag, flapping in the breeze. Cool air drifted in from the outside. Between the metal bars, the sky was gray. It smelled damp, like approaching rain.
Prisoners were kept inside during stormy weather, which was unusual in San Diego. Owen hadn’t felt rain on his face in a long, long time.
His mother had liked the rain.
For some reason, the thought made him feel like crying. He wasn’t the type to get choked up over little things. They were trapped in a hellhole with some crazy motherf*ckers. He should cry about that.
“What’s wrong?” Garrett asked.
Owen blinked away the tears. “Nothing,” he said, setting the stake in place again. “Concrete dust in my eyes.”
He didn’t know what kept him going. Maybe it was Penny’s reluctance to let him stay. By breaking through this barrier, he could prove himself worthy of their group. Maybe it was a cumulative collection of all the bad things he’d done in his life. He could pretend that every strike of the hammer canceled one of them out.
Mostly, he just wanted to feel rain on his face.
An hour later, the stake slipped from his sweaty fist. It sailed through the air and clattered against the floor. Owen hooked the hammer to his belt, studying the space he’d created. Someone Cadence’s size might be able to fit through.
The rest of them needed more room.
His arms shook uncontrollably as he unclipped his harness from the rebar. He felt wasted, as if he’d drunk a fifth of Jack. This was the hardest work he’d ever done. And it wasn’t enough. They wouldn’t be able to get out today. Probably not tomorrow, either.
“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.
“F*ck,” 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 motherf*cking 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.