After Today (The After Series Book 1)

by Jacqueline Hayley

  “Whatever you need. I’m not going anywhere.” He brought the backs of her hands to his mouth and softly kissed the almost translucent skin. “Get a good night’s sleep. I’ll just switch off the lights and then turn in too.”

  “Where are you sleeping?”

  “Quinn has a spare bedroom. It’s tiny as fuck, but the bed’s comfortable enough.”

  “Do you think…” She paused. “You could sleep with me?”

  She said it so quietly Jake almost thought he’d misheard.

  Motionless, he stared at her.

  “I’m not coming onto you!” Her eyes widened. “I just don’t want to be alone tonight.”

  “Of course, babe.”

  Morning light was seeping beneath the bedroom blinds as Jake groaned softly, drawing Mackenzie’s slumbering body tighter. Burying his head in the crook of her neck, he acknowledged that a stiff prick had no conscience.

  He’d promised himself she needed to make the next move—he was adamant he wouldn’t push her. But Jesus fucking Christ. The soft, languid weight of her curled into him was more than any man could bear. Surely.

  Another groan reverberated through him.

  Jake needed to get out of bed before he did something he’d regret.

  Disentangling their legs, he slid from beneath the covers, pulling them up so they covered the exposed curve of Mackenzie’s shoulder.

  Even her shoulder was sexy.

  “Jake?” she mumbled sleepily. “What’re you doin’?”

  “Go back to sleep. I’m going to check out some of the neighboring houses and see if I can scavenge some food.”

  At that, she sat up abruptly, the covers pooling at her waist.

  “You’re leaving?”

  “I won’t be long. Quinn’s always whining about a neighbor’s rooster crowing at ungodly hours. Feel like eggs for breakfast?”

  She visibly relaxed. “Just be careful, okay? And don’t be too long.”

  “I’ll be back before you know it,” he promised, pulling on the jeans he’d discarded last night.

  Jake didn’t miss the way she watched the flexing of his thighs and hid a grin. Heading downstairs, he collected a shopping bag and tied a clean bandanna around his face. He knew the Evac Area was supposedly deserted, but it was better to be safe than sorry.

  Outside there was a chill to the air, a deceptive stillness. Sanford was at once the town he’d grown up in and an unknown entity. Where forty-eight hours ago cars would be leaving driveways heading to work, school buses would be making their rounds, and joggers would be pounding the sidewalks—now, all was quiet.

  Jake tried to remember which poet had coined the famous quote about the world ending not with a bang, but a whimper. English had never been his strength at school. Regardless, the undeniable truth of the poem was jarring.

  Looking up and down the empty street, he turned to the right, deciding it would be best to check each house methodically. Quinn’s neighbor had a neatly kept front yard with a rolled-up newspaper still sitting on the front porch. Picking it up, Jake noted it was from three days ago, the headline shouting about a celebrity who’d been sentenced to fourteen days in prison because of some college admission scandal… nothing at all about the virus that was about to annihilate humanity.

  It was incredible that the media outlets had been so willing to fall in line with the president’s complete denial of Sy-V.

  Raising his hand, he knocked at the front door and was immediately chagrined. There would be no one home. They were in the Safe Zone, or dead. Absently, he wondered how long it would take for old habits to be replaced by this new reality.

  Sanford was a small town with little to no security concerns, and the doorknob turned, unlocked. Before he could set foot inside, a putrid stench of decomposition overcame him. Instantaneous retching had him gagging behind his bandanna as he fell backward, slamming the door closed.

  Tears ran unchecked down his cheeks as he spat compulsively onto the ground, desperate to erase an odor so pervasive he could taste it. Stumbling to the street, he collapsed into the gutter, shaking legs unable to hold him standing as he gulped deeply of the clean air.

  There was a huge distinction between knowing he could encounter dead bodies and actually encountering them. Surely that person—people?—had been dead longer than the two days they’d known of the virus? Or did the virus make them decompose quicker?

  It was several long moments before Jake had the strength to stand and the will to continue on. Pausing at the front door to the next house, he steeled himself for what lay beyond before cautiously opening it, sniffing at the air with a curled top lip. The relief at not being hit in the face with a decomposing human body was palpable.

  Shutting the door gently, he ventured down a hallway lined with photos, although he couldn’t place the family. He wasn’t sure if knowing or not knowing them would be easier as he walked through their home. Several pairs of shoes littered the floor and the kitchen still had dirty breakfast dishes in the sink.

  Resolutely blocking out the personal details of the house, Jake went straight for the refrigerator and began loading his bag. The pantry had slim pickings, but there were canned vegetables and tuna.

  It was the third house where he found the chicken coop out back, along with a verdant and well-ordered vegetable garden. Reaching under clucky hens, he collected several eggs, already debating whether he should poach or scramble them. Handily, an egg basket sat outside the coop so he could carry them back to Quinn’s.

  Feeling on a roll, he chanced one more house before heading back to Mackenzie. She had a sweet tooth, and he wasn’t above using chocolate to fight his way into her affections.

  He headed straight to the back door and was relieved to find it open. Although, learning how to pick locks was fast climbing to the top of his priority list. The kitchen cupboards were well stocked—but no chocolate—and Jake’s bag was full before he’d even started on the second shelf.

  He’d just clocked the stack of dog food cans when the clicking of nails on the hardwood floor preceded a warning growl that had his balls shriveling.

  “Hey boy,” he murmured in a low voice, slowly turning to face the dog.

  A large German shepherd crouched in the doorway, hackles raised and teeth bared.

  The growl escalated to a snarl and Jake continued soothing platitudes at the canine while frantically evaluating escape options. He’d have to cross the dog’s path to make it out the back, and it was blocking the doorway to the front.

  There was only one other door, and Jake guessed—hoped—it led to the garage. “Easy boy, easy,” he said, slowly backing toward it.

  The German shepherd tracked his movements, and when it lunged forward on powerful hind legs, Jake flung himself through the door, slamming it just as the weight of the dog crashed into it.

  Panting, Jake looked around the dim interior, confirming it was a garage. To the soundtrack of frantic barking, he located a light switch and found the space empty save a golf bag, a stepladder, and some gardening implements.

  When the bare bulb illuminating the room flickered, and then went out, he swore. Blown bulb, or had the electricity gone out?

  Striding to the automatic garage door, he ran his hand along the wall, searching for a button to open it. The dog was now ferociously scratching at the door and when Jake’s hand finally ran across the button, he jabbed at it anxiously.

  Nothing happened.

  The electricity was out. But surely there was a way to manually open it? Frustration clawed at him. He should’ve gone back to Mackenzie after the third house. He’d already been gone longer than he’d planned.

  Setting down his bag of food, Jake grabbed the step ladder and studied the door, finally seeing what looked to be an emergency cord hanging from the center rail of the garage door mechanism. Pulling it, he expected the cord to disconnect the door from the garage door opener, allowing him to lift it open.

  Jumping from the stepladder, he pulled at the b
ottom of the door, to no avail.

  “Fuck!”

  He tried the cord again, and while it swung from the urgency of his action, the door stayed resolutely shut.

  He slid to the ground, bowing his head between bent knees. He should’ve followed his gut and stayed in bed with Mackenzie. Screw the consequences.

  Pun intended.

  He sighed. Why was everything so damn hard? Nothing was easy anymore. He prided himself on being resilient and practical, but was it too much to ask for a simple home ransacking to go to plan?

  Jake could wait for the electricity to come back on, assuming it would, or find a weapon of some description and brave the dog.

  It was the thought of Mackenzie panicking at his longer than expected absence that had him getting to his feet and finding a garden shovel. The idea of maiming an animal made him grimace, but the option of being mauled to death wasn’t especially appealing either.

  Glancing back at the shopping bag, he decided he’d have a better chance of escaping unharmed without trying to carry it as well, as much as he hated the thought of returning empty-handed.

  The door was shuddering as though the dog were throwing itself against it. Bracing himself, Jake raised the shovel and prepared to open it quickly. He hoped he’d startle the dog into charging into the garage while he was shielded behind the door, and he could slip past back into the house.

  “Because everything else has gone so smoothly,” he muttered wryly to himself.

  Rolling his shoulders, Jake took a deep breath… and then hesitated.

  Exactly how much would a dog bite hurt? He imagined its teeth were sharp enough to puncture cleanly through. It was the ripping and tearing of his flesh as the German shepherd pulled away that was concerning.

  “Fuck it.” Gripping the door handle, he pulled down… only to find it locked. It had locked automatically from the inside. “You have got to be fucking kidding me!” he roared.

  Trapped, he turned in a slow circle around the garage, assessing his options. They were few. Resuming his sitting position—as far from the snarling beast as possible—he cursed not having the ability to search the internet on his phone.

  Jake could understand telecommunication going down in an apocalypse, but surely it was just human decency to allow the internet to live on. How was anyone meant to know anything without it? He was pretty sure there weren’t going to be books in Sanford Town Library telling him how to pick locks. Not that he could get to the library in his current predicament.

  T.S. Eliot.

  Remembering the name of the poet, he let out a whimper.

  Chapter Six

  “Fuck. Fuck-fuck-fuckity-fuck.”

  Mackenzie resumed her pacing. Jake was taking way longer than she thought he would, and now the power had gone out. Not even yoga breathing was helping with the restless agitation consuming her.

  It wasn’t so much the lack of electricity that was terrifying—it was daylight, after all. It was the idea of what it represented. How did the world function without power? Did you even still have running water without electricity?

  Spinning on her heel, she rushed to the kitchen, turning on the faucet and feeling light-headed with relief when water spilled out. Out of habit, she flicked on the teakettle and pulled a mug from the cupboard, only to realize the kettle wasn’t boiling.

  Of course.

  Sighing, Mac slumped at the kitchen table. It was unnerving to be alone in the house, knowing only empty houses surrounded her. She was cut off from the rest of the town and the distance created an echo of unease.

  When Jake had left this morning, she’d rolled into the hollow of the mattress he’d vacated, breathing in the wholly masculine scent of him. It wasn’t a cologne, which she’d always found overpowering with other men. No, it was just Jake. A smell that had something warm and unbidden unfurling inside her.

  The idea of him, of them, was fluttery. Exciting. It had her chest tightening with a delicious sense of anticipation. For the first time, cocooned in the warmth he’d left behind, she’d allowed herself to imagine the possibility of them together.

  And it felt right. God, it felt right.

  He promised he wouldn’t be long.

  Resolutely, she stood and marched to the front door. Swinging it open, she hesitated on the threshold, hating the vulnerability that swamped her. Had it really come to this? She was a grown woman who was afraid to leave the house?

  Mackenzie jumped as a sudden electrical whirring preceded the lights coming back on. Well, at least they had power again. Buoyed by this, she stepped onto the porch, letting the front door swing shut behind her. Outside was eerily quiet.

  “Jake?” she called, walking down the steps and scouting up and down the street.

  Nothing moved.

  Turning left, she called out again, wondering if she was brave enough to enter any of the houses.

  “Mac!”

  Thudding feet on the sidewalk behind her had her spinning, arms instinctively raised in defense. She collapsed to her knees at the sight of Jake running toward her.

  “Mac!” he yelled again.

  “Where have you been?” she screamed, built-up tension exploding from her.

  Panting, he dropped to his knees to embrace her, and she shoved him away, getting awkwardly to her feet.

  “You left me! Again!” Her throat was tight as she struggled to rein in a torrent of tears.

  “I’m sorry! I’m so sorry.” His eyes were imploring and his fists clenched uselessly on his thighs. “I got trapped when the power went out. I couldn’t get to you.”

  Gulping at air, she stared as he slowly got to his feet, reaching out until he gathered her trembling body into his.

  “I would never leave you,” he whispered into her hair with a tender fervency.

  “I didn’t know where you were.”

  “I know, I know,” he soothed. “Come on, let’s go inside. I promised you eggs for breakfast, didn’t I?”

  They ate the eggs, each hyperaware of the other. Jake kept watching her as though he were worried she was about to have a breakdown, and she was jumpy if she couldn’t see or hear him.

  A fact she didn’t think she was hiding very well.

  Jesus. I need to get my shit together.

  “So the poor dog is still in the house?” Mackenzie asked.

  “I know you love dogs, and I feel like shit leaving it there, but it was vicious. I didn’t really want my arm bitten off.”

  “It was probably just hungry. I think we should go back and feed it.”

  He looked at her dubiously.

  “You know I have some sort of weird affinity with dogs. Remember that cranky old lapdog Grams used to have? That fluffball adored me.”

  “Mac, this was a guard dog, and it was good at its job.”

  “We can’t leave it there,” Mackenzie said stubbornly, crossing her arms for emphasis. She didn’t miss the way his eyes lingered on her cleavage. “Bring one of Quinn’s hunting rifles if you think we need the backup, but I bet the poor thing is just hungry. And I’m going, regardless.”

  “Why is your determination turning me on?” He groaned. “Fine. Let me find a weapon and we can assess the situation.”

  Mackenzie grinned.

  She’d always wanted a dog, but her father could barely feed her most of the time, let alone an animal. And when she’d moved to Chicago, her apartment was too small and her hours at work too long.

  She hadn’t been exaggerating about her affinity with canines; it was almost uncanny. She attracted them and she’d never met one she didn’t like. Or one that didn’t like her.

  Mackenzie had found some questionable lunch meat at Quinn’s and was confident she could win the animal over. She had a bounce in her step as they walked to the neighbor’s house, Jake grumbling by her side.

  “You stand back here, and I’ll open the front door, run back to you, and then we can call for it,” he instructed.

  “You’re no use as backup if you’re
in front of me,” she replied. “How about you wait back here, and I’ll open the door? That way if the dog really is crazy, you can let off a shot to scare it away.”

  His jaw ticked, and Mackenzie knew he hated the sense she was making. She hid a smile.

  “Fine.” He huffed. “But be careful. Open the door and get the hell away as fast as you can.”

  Mackenzie had no intention of running away. She knew, with a bone-deep certainty, the dog wouldn’t harm her. That said, she wasn’t stupid. She wouldn’t try to enter the house, and she’d back away if it barked.

  Stepping up to the front door, she stilled and listened, but heard nothing. She knocked gently before swinging it open and taking a half step back, calling quietly for the dog.

  “Mackenzie!” Jake hissed.

  She ignored him, concentrating on the steady click of nails on the hardwood floor until the dog appeared at the end of the hallway.

  “Well, aren’t you handsome?” she murmured encouragingly. Coming toward her cautiously, the German shepherd stopped at her outstretched hand, sniffing. “Hey there. You hungry?”

  The dog sat back on its haunches, cocking its head. Mackenzie dropped the sandwich meat at her feet and, although the dog eyed it hungrily, it waited.

  “Eat,” she commanded, and it wolfed down the meat in a single bite. “Oh yeah, you’re hungry,” she said, ruffling its fur and noting the tag on his collar read Dex.

  Dex whined and nudged her hand with his nose before turning and heading back into the house. When she didn’t immediately follow, he looked over his shoulder and yipped.

  “Okay, okay. I’m coming.”

  Jake joined Mac as she entered the house, muttering about how the animal could still be dangerous while angling himself in front of her. They found Dex in the kitchen, sitting in front of a cupboard wagging his tail. Mackenzie opened it to reveal tins of dog food, laughing when Dex sat up on his back legs in a begging position.

  “This sure is one ferocious animal,” she said.

  Jake sighed. First the dog had tried to eat him, and now it was stealing Mackenzie’s affection.