After Today (The After Series Book 1)

by Jacqueline Hayley

  Mackenzie’s face was wet from silent tears, and her heart was bloody and raw.

  How much more could they take?

  “Why?” Rachel asked. “It doesn’t make sense.”

  “Nothing makes sense,” Mackenzie replied dully. She held the coffee mug between both hands, hoping to absorb some of the heat and drive away the chill that shrouded her.

  “Tell me again,” Chloe demanded.

  “I only know what Buddy told Jim. Townsend has accused Jefferies of going against orders and killing everyone at the travel lodge. He’s put a bounty on Jefferies’ head and they’re searching for him now. Apparently, earlier today, Jefferies told some men that Townsend was going to make him a scapegoat, and he was going to ground.”

  “But why? And how did he… do it?” Chloe whispered.

  “They’re saying Jeffries lost it when the old people kept asking questions and demanding to get out. But I don’t know any of the details. I’m sorry.”

  “So we don’t know where her… her body is?” Chloe whispered.

  “I’m sorry, Chlo. No.” Caroline pulled her hair from its disheveled bun and retied it, eyeing them with a weary expression. “I need to get home to the kids, but I’ll send word if I hear anything.”

  They jumped as the front door crashed into the wall as it was opened violently. Loud, masculine voices had them scrambling from their chairs.

  “Jake?” Chloe called, confused.

  “This is the militia,” yelled a voice. “Everyone inside, get down on the floor with your hands on your heads. Do not try to run, we have the house surrounded.”

  The women froze.

  Tom Brenner barreled into the kitchen.

  “Down on the floor!” he shouted, brandishing a rifle.

  Immediately Mackenzie and the other three dropped, her cheekbone slamming onto the travertine tiles in her haste. Another two men rushed the room in a volley of shouted commands, and instinctively, she raised her hands over her head.

  “Check the rest of the house,” Tom instructed.

  Mackenzie could feel the men walking around the room, but she kept her head down. Her breathing was erratic and spots danced in front of her eyes. She blinked rapidly, trying to clear her vision.

  Someone’s coffee mug had tipped over, and a steady stream of coffee spilled, pooling before her. Dex was barking from the backyard. The refrigerator’s motor kicked on.

  Black boots stopped beside her. “Are you Mackenzie Lyons?”

  Her voice caught in her throat.

  The boot nudged into her side. “Answer me!”

  “Yes.”

  “Get up. You’re under arrest for treason.”

  Her mind refused to latch onto his words.

  “Up!” This time, the boot was forceful.

  Mac scrambled to her knees, palms slipping in the spilled coffee. Rachel protested and then gasped in pain as the butt of a rifle was jammed into her shoulder.

  “Which one of you is Caroline Boston?”

  “She’s that one,” Tom answered for them, tipping his chin at Caroline’s prone form.

  “Right. You, up,” he commanded.

  Mackenzie and Caroline stood, shaking hands clasped in unity.

  “You’re both under arrest for treason. Get your hands behind your backs.”

  “John, what’s going on?” Caroline asked.

  John. Right. John Kelly. Mackenzie vaguely recalled him from her childhood. Was he an accountant? Lawyer? He had a receding hairline and a ginger beard that was peppered with white.

  “You’re under arrest for terrorist activities and for conspiring against the council. We’re taking you to town hall to be sentenced.” John’s voice was monotone.

  “John—”

  “Shut it, lady,” the other man cut her off.

  “What do you think you’re doing?” Chloe cried, scrambling to her feet. “You’re not taking them anywhere. Get out of my house!”

  Dex’s barking had become frenzied.

  Tom rounded on Chloe, his rifle raised.

  “Rachel! Get her out of here. Find Jake!” Mackenzie screamed.

  Rachel stepped in front of Chloe, facing Tom with her hands raised. Without a word, she began moving backward, forcing Chloe toward the back door. When Chloe began to shout, Rachel spun and locked her elbow around Chloe’s throat, shoving her outside where they both took off running.

  Mackenzie’s chest released marginally. Chlo and Rach were safe.

  “Tom! What’s going on?” Quinn strode into the kitchen, followed by the man who’d been scouting the house.

  “Boss’s orders. We have to bring them in.”

  Mackenzie felt a sharp tug as a plastic tie restrained her wrists behind her.

  “Just hang on a minute,” Quinn barked. “You—”

  Kat burst into the kitchen, skidding to a halt at the scene before her.

  “Fuck. I thought,”—she paused for breath—“I could get here before them.” She panted, eyes latching desperately onto Mackenzie. “Everyone’s talking about the arrest warrant. And that motorcycle gang, they’re at the bridge demanding entry.”

  At that, the militia men stilled.

  “We need to get back to town hall. Now,” Tom ordered.

  “What? No!” Kat launched herself at Tom, with Quinn intercepting her. Two guns swung her way until Quinn growled, a barely veiled threat.

  “Let me go!” Kat screamed, as Quinn hauled her out the back door, whispering urgently into her ear.

  Before Quinn could object again, Mackenzie and Caroline were roughly hustled from the house and bundled into an SUV. Caroline was sobbing, pleading with John. But Mackenzie was numb. Nothing touched her. Sound was muted and time had a hazy quality to it.

  What had she expected, coming back to Sanford? This town wasn’t her home. And Jake wasn’t for her. She’d known that all along. She was tired of the struggle. The struggle to adapt to this new life, the struggle to fit with Jake. Love shouldn’t be this hard.

  Townsend wanted to throw her out of his town? Okay. She’d go back to the city, bunker down in her apartment. The girls weren’t going to like it, and her heart wrenched a little. But she’d been gone for years. They’d be okay without her.

  Mac blinked slowly. Had Maggie just slapped her?

  “Ow. Maggie!”

  “Snap out of it, girlie. We need you,” Maggie said.

  Mackenzie looked around. She was inside town hall standing between Caroline and Maggie, and they were pushed back into a corner and penned in by the backs of armed guards.

  “Why are you here?” Mackenzie asked Maggie.

  “Same as you. Townsend needs to prove a point, and we’re it.”

  “What point?” cried Caroline. “This is ridiculous.”

  “That he’s the boss. And anyone against him gets thrown to the wolves.”

  That made Mackenzie think of Dex, and tears clogged her throat. She knew Chloe would look after the dog, but she’d become attached to him.

  Voices reverberated off the high ceilings as more residents entered the hall. Mackenzie hadn’t realized the town still had so many people—there must’ve been close to three hundred. They were anxious, agitated.

  Only a few spared a glance at the women held prisoner. They were too preoccupied trying to get answers from Townsend’s men.

  “We can hear the motorcycles—”

  “What if they breach the bridge and get into town—”

  Where was Jake? Chloe, Rachel, and Kat weren’t among the crowd of people. Were they looking for him? Did he know she’d been taken? Did he care?

  She wanted to slump to the ground, but Maggie’s sharp elbow was in her side and Caroline was holding her other arm.

  A hush fell over the room, and Mackenzie heard the self-important footsteps of Townsend as he entered. She couldn’t see him over the crowd of people until he ascended the podium, gazing benevolently at those gathered before him.

  “Thank you all for coming,” he began, raising pl
acating hands as several voices shouted from the crowd. “I know you’re concerned, but your fear is unfounded. I will keep our town safe.”

  Townsend didn’t need a microphone; he was a gifted orator with an invested audience. He was measured and calm, a balm against the rising tide of apprehension.

  “There are those among us who wish to disrupt the peace and order we have established, and we cannot accept that. We are living through extraordinary circumstances, which require extraordinary actions. We cannot allow certain individuals to risk our safety.”

  Mackenzie felt the heavy weight of stares as several in the crowd turned to her.

  “And so, my fellow townspeople, we must deal with the traitors.”

  Jake was sitting on Gram’s stoop, where he’d watched the sun rise, the sky lightening from black to charcoal to gray. His ass and feet were numb, which was a nice distraction from the shredded, pulpy mess of his heart.

  He wasn’t brave enough to face Chloe. To tell her Grams was dead, that she’d died on his watch. Because it was his watch; with their parents overseas, it was his duty to protect his family, and he’d failed.

  Mackenzie didn’t get it. She’d never had a family. She didn’t understand the overwhelming need to protect what you loved. And now Grams… his throat swallowed convulsively, bile threatening.

  Why hadn’t he gone to see Grams as soon as he’d returned from Chicago? He knew the answer, of course. Mackenzie. He’d been so beguiled by their fledgling love, he’d neglected his responsibility. Resentment began a low burn in his belly. He’d forfeited his grandmother, for a relationship that was now nothing but ash.

  In the early dawn hours, he’d cried for the loss of Grams, but now he steeled himself. Now he needed to face his sister. To be there for her through this senseless tragedy. He knew there was a manhunt for Jefferies, but he honestly didn’t give a damn. The fury of his grandmother’s murder was directed at himself. Jefferies may have pulled the trigger, but he was but an arm on the beast. The beast Townsend had created.

  Disillusionment threatened to swamp his resolve. He’d always prided himself on being on the “good” side. He didn’t believe in shades of gray. But who was he kidding? Townsend wasn’t gray, he was black. And Jake had been following him willfully.

  “Jake!” Chloe and Rachel careened around the corner, red faced and out of breath.

  He stood, feet stinging with pins and needles. They knew. “Chlo. I’m so sorry.”

  “What?” She looked at him with confusion, panting.

  “Grams.”

  “Oh.” Her face fell, tears welling.

  “It’s not that,” Rachel said. “It’s Mac. Townsend has had her arrested!”

  He stared at her dumbly, not comprehending.

  “Jake! We have to get to town hall.” Rachel clutched his arm, her nails digging through his jacket sleeve. “I’m sorry… I’m sorry about—about Grams. I know… look. We can’t think about that now. We have to get Mackenzie back.”

  The streets were quiet as they approached town hall, and once they entered, Jake understood why. Every remaining resident of the town was here.

  Townsend had the stage, and Jake had to concentrate to hear him over his own labored breathing and the throb of his gunshot wound. The girls had their hands on their knees beside him, catching their breath.

  “In this new world, we have to make unsavory compromises,” Townsend was declaring from his position at the front of the crowd. “We are not making allies of the men at our gates. But to satiate them, to protect our town from their invasion, we will bargain with them. These traitors will be traded for the very thing their dissent was threatening, the stability and safety of our town.”

  Jake’s knees buckled when he saw Mackenzie, Caroline and Maggie dragged onto the podium, bound and gagged. Galvanized, he pushed at the backs of those in front of him, struggling to move through the crowd, intent on reaching Mackenzie.

  “Hold up there, Jake. Where do you think you’re going?” a quiet voice said in his ear.

  Trent and Gavin had flanked him, halting his movement.

  “We can’t let this happen, you know that,” Jake gasped.

  “The only thing we know is that Townsend asked us to restrain you until the formalities are complete,” said Trent. “So move on back with us, and let the boss do what needs to be done.”

  “You can’t do this!” Jake screamed as Trent and Gavin hauled him to the recesses of the hall. Several heads turned his way, but no one spoke up. “You can’t barter with human lives!”

  “You don’t get it, do you?” Trent said, conversationally. “These people are scared shitless. They’ll willingly trade someone else, so long as it’s not them.”

  “Townsend is doing this for the greater good,” Gavin added.

  “Were you ever on Maggie’s side?” Jake said, holding his wounded side. It felt like a hot poker was stabbing him mercilessly.

  “We’re on the surviving side, Jake. Which is where you should be.”

  “Hold up!” Rachel’s strident voice reached him, and he jerked his head toward the front. “Why are you doing this? There has to be another way.”

  “What about whiskey?” That was James, who stood beside Rachel. “Offer them whiskey in return for leaving us alone.”

  “I’m not giving these degenerates our whiskey.” Townsend laughed.

  “You can’t give them our people!” Chloe screamed. She turned to those around her. “If you let this happen, you’re all complicit in what happens to them!”

  As he struggled against Trent and Gavin, Jake could see the crowd murmuring. The rapt attention they’d focused on Townsend was dissipating.

  “This is what dissension looks like!” Townsend bellowed. “I won’t let our community be divided. We stand united. And unless you want that motorcycle gang to invade our town, this is what’s happening!”

  Mackenzie, Caroline, and Maggie were dragged to an offstage exit, thrashing and yelling against their makeshift gags. Jake saw red. His elbow snapped upward, slamming into the side of Gavin’s face, who stumbled backward. Gasping through his own pain, Jake spun to face Trent.

  Trent dropped his hold on Jake. And raised his pistol.

  The loud, reverberating boom of a gunshot had them freezing. Donny, Maggie’s son, stood on the top step of the stage, a bloom of red spreading across his chest before he fell. The crowd at the front of the hall began screaming, pushing back into those behind them until a wall of people surged toward where Jake stood.

  “Stop!” Trent shouted. “Back up!” He fired his AR-15 into the ceiling, which only added to the chaos.

  Using their distraction, Jake ran for the back door. Gavin attempted to stop him, but Jake slammed his fist into Gavin’s face, noting with satisfaction the crunch of nasal cartilage.

  He didn’t have a plan; he just knew he needed to get to the bridge before they handed Mackenzie over to the gang. Sprinting through the foyer, he burst outside, swinging left, and then right.

  “Jake!” It was Jim, waving frantically at him from the street corner. “I have a truck!”

  Jake heaved himself into the passenger side as Jim gunned the engine.

  “Jesse knows where Chloe stashed the weapons they found. We’re meeting him at her place,” Jim said.

  “We don’t have time! We need to get to the bridge,” Jake screamed. Sweat streamed into his eyes, and he swiped at the sting of it.

  “We can’t do anything without weapons,” Jim replied grimly. “Hang on.” He mounted the curb and drove the vehicle through a front yard and down a side lane, leaving toppled trashcans in their wake.

  Jesse was waiting, laden down with several rifles.

  “Do they have ammo?” Jim called as Jesse slid into the backseat.

  “In the backpack,” Jesse confirmed.

  “Go. Go!” Every molecule in Jake strained to reach Mackenzie. He was white-knuckled. Desperate. The truck roared as Jim punched through the gears, single-minded in his focus.
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br />   Jesse leaned forward between the front seats, passing Jake a rifle.

  “Is it loaded?”

  “Yes.”

  “Good.” Jake wouldn’t hesitate to shoot to kill. Again.

  They were too late.

  Jake canvased the area around the bridge frantically, but there was no sign of the women.

  Buddy, shaken, was standing guard at the blockade, unable to take his eyes off the road leading out of town. Quinn had his back to them, and it was only when Jake vaulted from the vehicle and ran to him he realized Kat was cradled against Quinn’s front, sobbing uncontrollably.

  “What happened? Where did they go?” Jake cried, grabbing Quinn’s shoulder. Jesse and Jim flanked him, guns raised as they searched the horizon.

  “I’m sorry. I’m so sorry,” Quinn muttered, not meeting his gaze. “There were too many of them. They were all on bikes, except for three in a van. That’s what they used to take the women.

  Kat and I came straight here, thinking we could ambush the gang, or get intel. I don’t know, really. But Jesus, Jake. There were twenty of them. Fully armed. They were their own army.”

  “How long ago did they leave?” Jim demanded, already swinging around and heading back to the truck.

  “Five minutes, maybe?” Buddy said, and then, ashen-faced, fell to his knees, retching into the dirt. “Sorry. I’m sorry.” He wiped his mouth on his sleeve. “They shouldn’t have done that. Townsend… he, he shouldn’t have done that.”

  “Where were they going? Back to Dutton?” Jesse asked.

  “Get in the truck,” Jim growled. “We don’t have time to stand around.”

  “We need to know where they’re going,” Jake countered. “Quinn, did they say anything that would help us?”

  “Prestige Plaza.” Kat hiccuped. “The gang are based at the Prestige Plaza in Dutton.” She tugged at Quinn’s hand. “Come on, let’s go.”

  “Not a chance, kitten,” Quinn said. “You’re not going anywhere.” He caught Kat about her waist, holding her back. “You need a plan, Jake. You can’t take them on without one.”

  Jake knew he was right, but it didn’t matter. Plan or no plan, they needed to get the women back. Fast. Who knew what was happening to them right now?