After Today (The After Series Book 1)

by Jacqueline Hayley

  This was more The Walking Dead than Supermarket Sweep.

  Mackenzie gave herself a mental shake. She needed to get her head in the game, or they were going hungry. With renewed focus, she darted and dodged between the other shoppers, blistered feet forgotten, snatching at products until her basket was full.

  “Good job, let’s get out of here,” Jake said, his own basket overflowing.

  “Should we at least leave some money?” she asked, feeling an ingrained guilt at leaving without paying.

  “I love that you’re worried about that, but no. We need to get your asthma inhalers and go.”

  Exiting the store, Mackenzie immediately turned right, heading for the drugstore, only to have pain rocket up her arm as the basket was wrenched from the crook of her elbow. Stumbling, she shrieked, apples spilling onto the ground from the impact. The man in the hoodie didn’t even pause. Just took off running with her hard-won basket of food.

  “What the fuck?” yelled Jake, pushing his own basket at Mackenzie and taking off after the thief.

  “Jake! Stop!”

  Don’t leave me.

  If he heard her, he didn’t stop. Clutching Jake’s shopping basket to her chest, she watched helplessly as he charged away. Not taking her eyes from his retreating figure, she backed slowly against the front wall of the supermarket, suddenly very conscious of the fact she was holding a precious commodity in a volatile environment.

  A woman scooped up the fallen apples and didn’t even glance her way.

  Mac had the distinct, sudden knowledge she was not safe. The intense instinct to run away as fast as she could had her heart beating double time.

  What if the guy had a gun? What if he’d snatched her backpack instead? Not that he’d have much use for the designer ballet flats she’d packed.

  God, what had she packed?

  Even with her advance knowledge, she hadn’t been taking the situation seriously enough. She really should’ve spent the extra ten minutes searching for her passport. And tampons took up hardly any space—why hadn’t she packed more of those?

  If the world really was going to shit, and she was now realizing that was more than a distinct possibility, then shouldn’t she have packed practical, helpful things? A tent? Matches? What the hell else did those apocalypse preppers have in their bug-out bags? And where did one purchase a tent, anyway?

  And where the hell was Jake?

  Nearby, a mob of young men—boys, really—used a trash can to smash the front windows of an electrical store, hooting and hollering as they forced their way inside.

  Really? Upgrading their television was a priority?

  The speed with which civilization was disintegrating was terrifying.

  A splinter group of the original mob turn to approach the supermarket, and Mackenzie’s legs started moving of their own accord. There was no way she was staying there like a sitting duck.

  Walking quickly, she headed for the drugstore, hoping that Mr. Zhang was still open amid all this madness.

  Turned out she should’ve added “gun” to the mental list of things she wished she’d packed.

  Jake was puffing heavily as he lugged the rescued groceries back to where he’d left Mackenzie. Anxiety tightened its hold on his throat when he realized how long he’d left her alone. Anxiety that rocketed to unadulterated terror when he didn’t see her.

  Jesus, was a bag of carrots and potatoes worth leaving her over?

  Scanning the area a second time, he again saw no sign of her. Surely Mackenzie hadn’t gone back into the supermarket?

  At a run, he headed in the direction she’d said the drugstore was and skidded to a halt when he saw the shop. It was dark inside and the metal rolling gate was pulled halfway down. Ducking under, he blinked, his eyes adjusting to the dimness. There was a light at the back of the store where the dispensary was, and he could see movement in a small room beyond that.

  “Mac? Are you there?” Stress made his voice hoarse. He cautiously made his way farther into the space.

  There didn’t appear to be any customers, and the shelves hadn’t been looted. Caution didn’t stop him from calling out again, and he could’ve kicked himself for this carelessness when, alerted to his presence, a man wearing a grey hoodie emerged from the back room.

  With a Remington 870 pointed at Jake’s head.

  Well, fuck.

  “Whoa! I’m just looking for a friend, I’m not looking for trouble.” There was nothing like having a firearm leveled at you to make you feel alive. “I’m looking for a brunette, about yay high.” He waved his hand to indicate five feet four. “Have you seen her?”

  “Keep your hands out in front of you and walk toward me slowly,” the man said, the pitch of his voice belying his nervousness. His shotgun shook.

  “Are you the owner? Maybe you know Mackenzie?”

  “Shut up!” The man waved the gun to show Jake should keep coming forward.

  Jake complied, his eyes tracking the movement of the weapon.

  The man backed into the small room and Jake followed, rushing the last steps when he saw Mackenzie huddled against the wall with a small Chinese-American man wearing a white lab coat.

  “I said slowly!” yelled Grey Hoodie, brandishing the shotgun. Sweat was beading on his forehead and his eyes were frantic.

  “Easy now.” Jake turned to face him, his back shielding Mackenzie. “We just need to grab some medicine and we’re out of here. We aren’t a threat to you.”

  “Mr. Peters, please. I have your son’s medication. Take it all,” pleaded the Chinese man. “Just take it, don’t worry about money.”

  Jake could hear Mackenzie’s panting breaths behind him, and his heart squeezed.

  “Come on, man, please. Put the weapon down. Take what you need and we can forget we ever saw each other.” Jake spread his arms out, palms up.

  The shotgun barrel wavered.

  “I have what I need,” came Mackenzie’s small voice as her arm rose from behind Jake, holding a paper bag. “Please, just let us go.”

  The urge to remove Mackenzie—and himself—from the situation was a visceral thing, but Jake couldn’t just walk away. “Why don’t you lower the weapon, and this guy—”

  “Mr. Zhang,” Mackenzie supplied.

  “—can get you what you need and you can be on your way,” Jake said.

  The shotgun lowered, inch by inch, until it was hanging loosely and Grey Hoodie’s shoulders sagged. “I’m sorry. This isn’t me, but I ain’t getting paid ’til Thursday and I need to get my son’s meds. He needs them, and I can’t leave without them.”

  “No problem, no problem!” Mr. Zhang gesticulated with his hands. “I’ll get them now, and then you can go.” He edged toward the dispensary warily and Grey Hoodie followed, having tucked the weapon into the back of his belt.

  A minute later, they turned as Mr. Zhang reentered, holding out another bag to Mackenzie.

  “He’s gone. Miss Lyons, take more asthma inhalers, okay?”

  “Okay?” Mackenzie accepted the shopping bag, which was bulging. “This is a lot of medication, Mr. Zhang.”

  “Yes, and you’ll probably need them. I’m going to my daughter’s. I don’t know when I’ll come back. If ever. Go, and take good care of yourself, okay?”

  “You too,” Mackenzie said, giving the old man a quick hug. “I’ll see you later.”

  He gave her a doubtful look but said nothing, instead shooing them out.

  Making their way back through the semi-dark store, Jake turned to Mackenzie and she launched herself at his chest, hugging him tight. He couldn’t help the flash of lust that drove through him, as inappropriate as it may have been. He’d been waiting seven years to feel Mackenzie’s body against his and, goddamn, it felt good.

  She was tiny, the messy bun on top of her head brushing the underside of his chin, but the woman had curves for days. Tucked against him with her arms wrapped tight around his torso, he had an agonizing view of her ass, which was so close his
palms itched.

  The peachy scent of her hair invaded his senses and her tits, Jesus fucking Christ, her tits, were pressed against his chest, and thank god she stepped back before she felt just how much he was enjoying her proximity. His cock was painful behind the zipper of his jeans.

  “You left me!” She slapped at his chest, the color high on her cheeks. “It’s scary out there and you took off and abandoned me.”

  Her trembling bottom lip gutted him. “Fuck. I’m sorry, Mac.”

  “It was a dick move, Jake.”

  He cupped her cheek, his big thumb rubbing at a stray tear that was tracking down her face. “Don’t cry, babe.”

  “Since when have you called me babe?” Her brow furrowed. “I’m the one breaking down here. We don’t have time for you to lose your mind, too. Hold it together and get us out of here.”

  His face heated. Right. He was her best friend’s younger brother, and they were in the middle of a societal meltdown.

  Stepping onto the sidewalk, they tugged their face masks back over their mouths and, in the encroaching darkness, made their way to Jake’s vehicle.

  “How are you feeling?” Jake asked.

  They were in his SUV, inching forward in the glut of traffic that was evacuating Chicago. Taking his eyes off the endless stream of red taillights ahead, he glanced at Mackenzie, who was chewing on a protein bar.

  “I’m okay. Look, I know I had a slight meltdown back there, but you don’t need to parent me. Even my actual father is too useless to try that.”

  “I’m not trying to parent you, Mac. I’m just worried.”

  “So it’s back to Mac now, huh? No more babe?” She raised an eyebrow, smirking.

  He looked back at the road. “Would it be so bad if I called you babe?” he asked evenly.

  “Uh, yes?”

  Without looking, he knew her nose was crinkling in confusion. Fuck, she was adorable. “Why?”

  “Why? Because I’m not your babe. That’s something you call a girlfriend, not… me.”

  “What if it was something I wanted to call you?” Jake’s tone was mild, but his heart was jack-hammering.

  Over the years, he’d imagined a million different scenarios where he’d declare himself to Mackenzie. Strangely enough, fleeing a city at the beginning of an apocalypse hadn’t featured in any of them.

  Mackenzie shifted in her seat to face him squarely and, as they were currently stationary, he didn’t have the excuse of looking out through the windscreen. It was time to man up and tell the woman he was mad about her.

  “Why… why would you want to?” She was biting her lip. Good. She wasn’t trying to tease him anymore. She was taking this seriously.

  In none of his imagined scenarios had Jake been stuck in a vehicle as this played out. There would be no suave, pulling-her-closer moves here. Awkwardly, he stretched out a hand and placed it on her thigh, squeezing gently.

  “Jake?” Mackenzie’s leg tensed and her eyes locked on his hand. “What are you doing?”

  “Mac, look at me,” he said, his voice taking on a deeper timbre.

  That luscious lower lip of hers was caught between her teeth, but she raised her gaze and held his stare.

  “I’ve been in love with you since that day you sprained your ankle at the lake. Remember? I carried you to the car so you could go get it x-rayed.”

  “You… love me?”

  “Yes.”

  “I was like, nineteen, when I sprained my ankle.”

  “Yes.”

  “That’s seven years ago, Jake.”

  “Uh-huh.”

  There was silence as they looked at each other.

  “Stop gnawing on that bottom lip,” Jake said, “you’re going to draw blood.”

  She swallowed and looked away. “But, you’re Chlo’s little brother.”

  “I am,” he agreed. “But I’m also twenty-three and know what I want. I want you.”

  A mix of dizzying relief and hot terror was swirling in Jake’s chest and his mouth was dry. He swallowed.

  “Why now? Why are you telling me this now?” she whispered.

  “Because you need to know. Because life is short and I’ve already wasted so much time. On my way to get you today, I thought that if I never got the chance to tell you—well, I can’t think of anything worse,” he finished softly, removing his hand from her leg. “You don’t need to say anything. I just needed you to know. Think about it, and when you’re ready to talk about it, I’m here.”

  Facing him again, she raised both eyebrows. “That’s a hell of a conversational bomb to drop, Jake. I don’t… I don’t know what to say.”

  “Don’t say anything. Just think about it.”

  A chorus of car horns started blaring ahead of them. Several people were getting out of their cars, illuminated by the multitude of headlights snaking behind them.

  Putting the gear stick into park, Jake switched off the ignition. “I’m going to get out and see if I can see what’s happening. Sit tight, okay?”

  “Should I come?”

  Her bottom lip was back between her teeth, and Jake realized she was nervous about being left alone. “Lock the doors behind me. I won’t be long, promise.”

  The night air was cool as Jake approached a group of people standing between cars in the middle of the highway, waving his hand in greeting.

  “Anyone know what’s happening up there?” he asked.

  “There’s been an accident. A bad one,” said a middle-aged man.

  “Looks like traffic is totally locked up,” said another. “And cells aren’t working, so there’s no help coming. We’re not going anywhere.”

  Jake surveyed the scene. With a sharp embankment dropping away on one side, and a concrete wall on the other, there was no hope of bypassing the accident ahead or turning around. Not that going back into Chicago was really an option.

  “We wait it out or walk,” said the first man, coughing violently as he turned to get back in his sedan.

  Mackenzie popped the locks as he came back, watching nervously as he slid into the driver’s seat and rolled his shoulders, attempting to release tension.

  “So?” Mackenzie prompted. “What’s going on out there?”

  “We’re stuck,” he replied heavily. “There’s an accident up ahead. We can try to wait it out, but it’s going to get cold in here because we’ll need to keep the engine off to conserve fuel. And we have no way of knowing how long we’ll be stuck. Or—” He paused.

  “Or?”

  “We walk.”

  “Walk! Walk where?”

  “Just until we get past the roadblock.”

  “And then what? We won’t have a car to keep driving.” Mackenzie was shaking her head.

  “We keep going until we find a car I can jack,” he answered.

  “Really? Like, you know how to steal a car?”

  Mackenzie’s skepticism was wounding. “Yes, Mac. I have a lot of skills you don’t know about.”

  It was beyond grating that she saw only the teenage version of him. And he thanked a god he didn’t really believe in that she hadn’t witnessed his earlier attempt to break through her front door.

  “So, we’re just going to get out of this nice safe vehicle and go wandering around outside in the dark?” Mackenzie said.

  “It’s not wandering when you’re following a road, Mac.”

  “You know that my version of being outdoorsy is getting drunk on the patio?”

  “I’m well aware of that.”

  Chapter Three

  Jake had found a flashlight and an old sports bag under his seat, which he loaded with the groceries they’d stolen. Mackenzie was still feeling guilty about taking the food—she’d never so much as stolen a pack of gum in her life.

  Considering the magnitude of shit that was currently going down, she wasn’t sure why that was bothering her so much. And then Jake had to go and say the L-word.

  Talk about being blindsided.

  “Ready?” he aske
d.

  “I can’t believe we’re really doing this,” she grumbled, shouldering her backpack. “You know I've been hiding from exercise. I'm in the Fitness Protection Program.”

  He huffed out a laugh. “That was a lame joke, Mac.”

  “It wasn’t a joke. And the blisters on my feet are killing me.”

  She knew she sounded like a whiny brat, but the rubbed-raw skin on her heels was excruciating.

  “We’ll take it easy. It shouldn’t be too far,” he reassured her.

  Walking in single file between the snarl of vehicles, Mackenzie stayed only a step behind Jake. More and more people were exiting their cars, most milling around aimlessly, but some were loaded with bags and walking determinedly forward. She couldn’t help noticing how many of them were coughing and readjusted her own face covering.

  A keening wail broke out, its intensity heard over the general cacophony of car horns. Jake halted and reached back, feeling for her hand.

  An involuntary shudder raced down her back as the cry continued.

  “There’s a woman up ahead, holding a baby in her arms,” Jake said grimly. “I think it might be… I don’t think it’s alive.”

  Mackenzie’s stomach dropped as she spotted the woman, who’d fallen to her knees and was rocking backward and forward, the devastation in her moans heart-wrenching. Obviously not thinking, Jake took a step toward her.

  “Jake! Don’t you dare. She could be carrying the virus,” Mackenzie cried, grabbing onto his arm and holding firm.

  “So we just leave her?” Jake twisted his arm in her hold.

  Tears blurred her vision and ran unchecked down her cheeks. She was a wretched human, and there was probably a spot reserved in hell for people who turned away like this. “We can’t help her. There’s nothing we can do.”

  Resigned, Jake nodded, and they walked silently away from the sobbing woman until they were edging between the concrete retaining wall and tightly packed vehicles. Wiping tears from her face, Mac stumbled, the emotional overload from the day swamping her.