“It’s a shitty thing to do, but yeah. Normal rules don’t apply at the moment, and we need to do anything we can to get home safely.”
Mac nodded and pulled back. “Okay, but maybe we should talk to some of these people to see what they know about the virus.”
“All they know is that they have it. And I don’t want us to be anywhere near them.”
“But we could find out how long they’ve had it for, what their symptoms are. If they know anyone—” She paused. “Anyone who’s died.”
“I think we can assume that yesterday is when most symptoms became obvious, although who knows how long the virus was incubating. And the news reports I heard said they were flu-like symptoms, but that must’ve been before it progressed to the bleeding.”
“I don’t think they’re sick for long before it kills them,” Mackenzie said quietly, and he followed the direction of her eyes.
A young woman with a mop of curly auburn hair was sitting in a stationary car, her head tilted at an odd angle and the lower half of her face coated with blood. She wasn’t moving.
In silent agreement, Jake and Mackenzie started moving again, crossing the road to avoid walking next to the line of parked vehicles.
Jake was conscious of a lack of sound—it seemed the entire town was muted. There was no noise of traffic, and even the mob of people at the front of the hospital were milling quietly or slumped listlessly against the walls.
A dog barked once, off in the distance, but there wasn’t even a breeze to disturb the fall-colored trees around them. So they both startled badly when they stepped off the sidewalk onto a front lawn and a gravelly voice greeted them.
“You two looking for transport?” A grizzled man was sitting on his front porch, salt-and-pepper beard neatly trimmed and a shotgun resting on his lap.
Instinctively, Jake moved in front of Mackenzie. “We’re not looking for any trouble. We just want to get home.”
“You’re not sick, are you?” It was more an observation than a question.
“No, sir.”
“Well, you can’t take my truck. But my neighbor fell over dead yesterday. He wasn’t sick for more than half a day. So you can take his truck because he sure as shit won’t be needing it.” He spat on the ground at his feet. “By my reckoning, there’s going to be a lot of shit no one’s going to be needing,” he said, tipping his chin in the hospital's direction.
“Has your neighbor been in his truck recently?” asked Mackenzie, stepping out from behind Jake. “Just in case, you know, his germs are in it?”
The old man chuckled. “Nah, he only left the house on a Sunday afternoon to visit the bar, and then again on Monday to get his groceries. He hasn’t been in it for a couple of days.”
“So you’re okay if we just take it?” Jake flicked his eyes between the shotgun and the faded Ford F-Series in the next driveway over.
“Sure, son. Take it. The keys will be behind the visor.” He nodded. “And you take care of that little missy of yours, you hear?”
“That’s the plan, sir.”
Chapter Four
Mackenzie collapsed into the passenger seat, staring out the window as Jake navigated his way into a deserted downtown Essex. She was exhausted. The last twenty-four hours had depleted her physically and emotionally. She couldn’t handle much more and the idea of sitting still, doing nothing, in the safety of the vehicle was the closest thing to heaven she could think of.
She desperately wished she was home with Chloe, Rachel, and Kat; she didn’t even have the energy to be disgusted with herself for acknowledging Sanford as home. She just wanted her three best friends.
Not that Jake wasn’t a pretty good substitute. He’d literally been her knight in shining armor—it was his logical practicality that was keeping this shit show on the road. The shit show being her.
Unbidden, the memory of their conversation yesterday crept back into her consciousness, making her tummy do a funny tumble.
I know what I want, Mac. I want you.
She wanted to dismiss his declaration. Instead, she worried at it like a child with a loose tooth.
Jake was in love with her? It was just so unbelievable. Jake was Sanford’s golden boy. He was quarterback the year Sanford High School had gone to state. Betty, at Trader Joe’s, still slipped him candy at the checkout and he was twenty-three, not five.
God, he is twenty-freaking-three.
Mac could just imagine how Sanford would react—they’d want to burn her at the stake. Even she knew she wasn’t good enough for Jake.
She’d literally grown up with Jake on the periphery; he was a constant, a touchstone of familiarity and the comfort of childhood. And while she was forging a new life for herself in Chicago, he’d grown into a man. A man with intriguing possibilities.
The pull of attraction was unsettling. Not only had she been in a relationship just yesterday, but this was Chloe’s little brother.
She wondered where Peter was right now, if he’d made it to pick up his daughter. She was sad for him, but in a detached way. Like she’d known him years ago.
A small convoy of military vehicles rumbled up from behind and overtook them, not pausing as they continued on. Starting, Mackenzie blinked her eyes back into focus.
A man was crumpled on the sidewalk and a woman was sobbing, pulling futilely on his arm. She had twin rivulets of blood streaming unchecked from her nose.
“Jesus, people are literally dropping on the sidewalk!” Jake swore.
Mackenzie continued to watch the convoy as they drove slowly past.
A cavern of hopelessness bloomed in her chest.
Turning back to face the windshield, she closed her eyes. Was this life now? Watching people die and just driving past?
“That’s the hiking store,” said Jake, pointing at a bright blue building to their left.
“It doesn’t look open.”
Jake ignored her. “Are you ready to do some shopping?”
“I think it’s called shoplifting, not shopping.”
“Come on, Mac. Weren’t you the one asking for a sleeping bag last night?”
“That was you.”
“Okay, maybe it was,” he conceded. “But if we’re going to sleep outside again, wouldn’t you prefer to do it in a sleeping bag?”
“I don’t plan on sleeping outside again. Do we really need to do this? We’re on our way home. We don’t need camping supplies.”
“We don’t need camping supplies,” he agreed. “But this is serious, Mac. Life isn’t just going to go on like it did before.”
Mackenzie shifted in her seat, finally taking the time to digest their new reality.
“You’re right,” she said slowly, thinking. “How long do you think the electricity is going to keep going? And even if some of the country’s food producers survive the virus, what are the chances that the transport drivers will also survive? The distribution facilities? The warehouse and supermarket workers?”
He nodded, eyes somber. “This could all blow over tomorrow. Next week. And I’m happy to be called a fool for being a doomsday prepper. Because I’d much rather that than find out it’s not going to blow over, and we don’t have matches and flashlights and batteries for when the power goes out. When we don’t have hunting knives and fishing rods to keep ourselves fed. Whatever happens, we’re going to survive, Mac.”
Jake had a determined tilt to his chin and Mackenzie felt a flutter of something, knowing he’d look out for her, care for her, no matter what. There was something primal—primitive—in his confidence, in his assurance of protection.
And hell, maybe she and the girls could finally sleep out in the backyard overnight.
“Okay.” She nodded. “But we can’t just smash the front window to get in, we don’t want to draw attention to ourselves.”
“Sit tight. I’ll walk around to the back of the building and see if there’s a window I can break into there.”
She nodded again, locking the truck’s doors as soon as he’d got
ten out and watching as he walked with a long-legged stride around the corner.
Was it wrong to check out his ass? Definitely. It’s a really nice ass though.
In less than five minutes, he was inside the store, unlocking the front door and gesturing for her.
“That was quick.”
“The back door was wide open,” he admitted. “No need for hero tactics. I don’t think we’re the first to have this idea.”
Checking the empty sidewalk behind her, he pulled the doors closed and bolted them.
The store was enormous, with row after row of outdoor camping equipment; tents and canoes, hiking gear and paraphernalia she couldn’t guess the use of.
Her eyes widened with overwhelm. “Where do we even start?”
“We’ll kit ourselves first,” Jake said. “Choose a backpack that you can easily carry when it’s full and then look for hiking boots. The women’s hiking clothing is over there. Pick out two full outfits and a couple of extra pairs of socks. But do it quick, there’ll be others who think of raiding this place.”
The knowledge they could soon be joined by other survivors gave Mackenzie a jolt of trepidation. The fewer people they came across, the less the chance of the virus infecting them.
“Meet me at the front counter when you’re done, and we’ll get together some camping equipment. I’m hoping there might even be a small solar generator here.”
Mackenzie hadn’t even realized that solar generators were a thing. Shaking off that thought, she headed for the racks of women’s clothing, a trickle of anticipation replacing the trepidation. Shopping, she could do.
Slipping behind a half-wall of shelves, she changed into a pair of black, fitted cargo pants and a gray waffle-knit Henley. The thick merino-wool socks were deliciously soft on her ravaged feet, and when she found a pair of hiking boots that had shearling inserts, she almost cried. It was like walking on clouds.
Coordinating a second outfit and some lightweight merino base layers, she then stuffed them all into a bright yellow backpack.
“Don’t forget to grab a warm waterproof jacket,” Jake shouted from across the store.
“I’m almost done,” she called back. “Need me to find anything else?”
His head popped around the corner, grinning. “I think I have everything. I’m just going to look for a portable water purification system.”
By the time Jake finally deemed them sufficiently prepared, Mackenzie’s backpack contained a flashlight, a first aid kit, a water bottle, sunscreen, matches, hand sanitizer, a survival knife, a compass—“Do you really think I’m qualified to use this?”—an LED headlamp, and a sleeping bag.
Jake had also put together a pack with tent and cooking equipment, along with the water purification system and solar generator he’d been looking for.
Mackenzie smirked at him. “You look like a packhorse.”
“A prepared packhorse.” He grinned back.
Jake was energized with purpose and Mackenzie took a moment to admire his assertiveness, the straightforward manner in which he’d taken control, allowing her a comforting warmth in his steadfast protection. Who knew making someone feel safe could be sexy?
His broad shoulders easily carried the weight, and her stomach fluttered at the man before her. He was gorgeous. And competent. Did she mention gorgeous? Her eyes roved greedily over the hard planes of his chest, down the thickly corded muscles of his forearms.
“Like what you see?” he drawled quietly, stepping so their torsos brushed ever so lightly.
Mackenzie’s nipples hardened perceptibly beneath her top, and her breathing hitched. She couldn’t tear her eyes away from the full bottom lip of his mouth. What would it feel like to kiss him? To kiss Jake?
The faint but distinct popping of gunshots in the distance had them jumping apart, breathing heavily. The hiking store had been a cocoon from reality, and Mackenzie had actually had fun playing at doomsday prepper. But it was time to get moving.
They exited the store, tossing all the equipment into the back of the truck.
They weren’t playing at anything. As evidenced by the dead body of a man in the gutter across the road, who hadn’t been there when they’d parked.
As she stood eyeing the corpse, a police siren split the still air, jolting her. Cowering instinctively against the side of the truck, she watched as a police car careened around the corner, its siren wailing. It was speeding far too fast for safety, and several youths were hanging out the windows, hollering with unrestrained joy.
“What the hell?” yelled Jake. “Mac, get in the truck!”
Scrambling to obey, she slammed and locked the door behind her, but the police car was already in the distance, the siren growing fainter. They sat silently, watching until the police vehicle rounded a far corner and disappeared.
“I can’t wait to get home,” Mackenzie surprised herself by saying.
Jake just nodded grimly and started driving.
They were cruising down the highway, Jake driving with a careless competence, when they came across the first deserted gas station with a handmade sign proclaiming No Gas.
Apart from two vehicles they’d passed going in the opposite direction, the highway had been just as deserted.
“Where do you think everyone is?” Jake asked, breaking off a piece of bread roll and chewing.
“They’re probably either staying inside, or dead.” Mackenzie wished he hadn’t asked. Everyone couldn’t be dead. Surely. “Do you think everyone is okay in Sanford?” she asked quietly.
Jake stared ahead, his jaw working. Finally, he answered, “Yes.” His eyes were trained on the empty highway before them. “They’re going to be fine.”
Mac couldn’t bear to think of her best friends suffering.
With blood running down their faces.
She couldn’t imagine a world without Kat, Chlo, and Rach. Her heart ached with a fierce need to be with them.
“Any apples left?” They weren’t far from Sanford, and Jake’s stomach was growling. He nudged at the bag sitting between them and then flicked his eyes to the fuel gage of the truck. “We’re only just going to have enough gas to get us home.”
Mackenzie hummed noncommittally and rummaged through the bag, finally pulling out a red apple, which she promptly licked.
The sight of her small pink tongue against the glossy skin of the apple almost had him veering off the road.
“What are you doing?” His voice was unnaturally hoarse.
“I licked it, so it’s mine.”
Jake emitted a low growl at the thought of licking the milky white column of her neck. Would that then make her his?
“If you think a bit of spit is going to stop me from eating that apple, you’re sadly mistaken,” he warned, reaching out a long arm and snatching the fruit from her.
“Hey!” she protested, swatting ineffectually at his shoulder.
He took a large bite and chewed loudly. “Tastes good.”
“You’re such a dick.”
“I thought you didn’t want to talk about my dick?”
The instant flush that warmed her face had his blood rushing south.
With her red cheeks facing the window, he adjusted himself discreetly. The constant proximity to her—without access to a cold shower—was like playing with fire. And damn if he didn’t want to get burned.
Jake didn’t want to push Mac, but he was desperate to know if she’d been thinking about yesterday’s declaration. His adoration of her had been in a pressure cooker for years, and even when things seemed serious with that asshole Peter, he couldn’t turn it off. There was no stopping the ground-shaking reverence of his feelings.
His heart was heavy with them.
The only reason Jake was on Instagram was so he could follow Mackenzie. The only reason he couldn’t commit to a relationship was because no one else was her. Hell, he still had a T-shirt of hers she’d left behind in Chloe’s room six years ago.
This wasn’t a passing crush
for him.
Casting her a quick side-eye, he sighed quietly.
Could she see past the fact he was Chloe’s brother? Her younger brother?
“You’ve gone quiet,” Mackenzie said, reaching over and grabbing the forgotten half-eaten apple from his fingers. He winced as the movement caused her top to pull tight against the swell of her breasts.
Fuuuuuuck.
“Just thinking,” he said.
“About what?”
Wrapping your thighs around my hips and fucking the recollection of every previous man from your memory. “Probably best that you”—his voice cracked, and he cleared his throat—“don’t know. Have you thought about where you’re going to stay? I’m assuming your dad isn’t an option.”
“You assume correctly. I wouldn’t stay in his broke-down trailer if you paid me.”
“You can crash with me.”
It was her turn to give him a sideways look. “I’ll stay with one of the girls. Chloe, if Ash isn’t back yet. Or Rach, her long hours at the vet clinic make her a good roommate. Not sure if I can handle the hot mess that is Kat on a 24/7 basis, but I could manage for a couple of days.”
“The offer’s there.” He shrugged.
They passed the Welcome to Sanford sign and fell silent, the steady whirring of tires on asphalt filling the truck.
Tightening his hands on the steering wheel, Jake swallowed. He hadn’t allowed himself to think about what could’ve happened in the twenty-four hours he’d been gone. Dread settled low in his belly.
Coming around the last bend in the road before the bridge, Jake saw the local fire truck barricading it, planted sideways across the road and flanked on both sides by several vehicles. But it was the men standing on top of the fire truck with AK-47 assault riffle that had Jake’s skin tightening, the hairs on his arms rising. He jerked the truck to the other side of the road, his foot easing from the accelerator.
“What are they doing?” Mackenzie breathed, transfixed. “Is that Buddy Robinson and Tom Brenner?”
“Looks like it.” Jake pulled his truck to a stop fifty feet from the makeshift blockade.
After Today (The After Series Book 1) Page 5