After Today (The After Series Book 1)

by Jacqueline Hayley

  “My name is Zed,” the kid mumbled.

  “I don’t give a fuck what your name is,” Jake responded, watching as Jesse disappeared out of the alley before turning to Zed. “Three women were brought to the hotel earlier today. What do you know about that?”

  “I got nothing to do with it, I promise!”

  Jake restrained from slamming his fist into the kid’s face. Barely.

  “Tell me what you know,” he gritted out. “Or I swear to god I’ll shoot you right now.”

  “It’s Gemma. We worked at the Prestige together, before. Well, she was in management, and I was just in the kitchen, but—” He checked himself at Jake’s fierce expression. “She went to get her boyfriend out of prison and came back with a whole bunch of them.

  “Some of them used to be in a motorcycle gang and they went to the clubhouse first, took all the bikes. They’re bad, real bad. I just keep my head down and make sure they get fed. Gemma’s got them all out looting for supplies. She’s stocking up. And sometimes they find women and bring them back, but I swear, I don’t touch them!”

  The sound that came from Jake’s mouth was animalistic.

  Zed shrank back, his whole body shaking.

  “How do I get them out?” Jake forced the words through his teeth. His jaw was locked tight, aching with the strain of holding himself back.

  “Well, there’s… I mean, they have a lot of guns. And someone guards the room they’re in.”

  “What room? Where are they kept?”

  “One of the suites on level five. But they won’t be there much longer. Soon as it gets dark, the men will all start coming back in, and Gemma’s running a lottery tonight. The men…” He bit his lip and looked away from Jake.

  “The men what?”

  “The men who bring in the best supplies go into the lottery to win a night with one of the women,” Zed whispered.

  The shadows on the street were already lengthening. It would be night within the next hour.

  Jake could feel the ticking of time with each beat of his heart. “How do I get inside?”

  Chapter Sixteen

  “Should we be worried about catching Sy-V from these people?” Caroline whispered.

  “That might be a blessing,” mumbled Maggie. “I’d rather die than stay here as their toy.”

  “Didn’t you listen to Jesse?” Mackenzie said. “We’re probably immune.”

  “Which means so are they,” Caroline said. “Unfortunately.”

  The afternoon had slipped away as the women sat on the sofa, crying, whispering together, slipping into fitful jags of sleep before jerking awake. The serrated edge of terror was a constant grind against Mackenzie’s nerves until she wanted to scream.

  She’d given up defending Jake. Maggie was convinced he was responsible for betraying them. Instead, the women had taken turns watching Leon, hoping he’d fall asleep or get distracted enough for them to overpower him.

  But then Mickey had returned, furious that Gemma wasn’t allowing the men who’d brought the women in to enter the lottery.

  “I don’t care what else gets brought in today, nothin’ is going to trump these three. She shoulda let us all have a turn with them first. The least she could do is include us in the lottery,” he grumbled.

  “What time does West want them downstairs?” Leon asked, picking at his teeth and glancing at the women.

  Mackenzie stilled, the emptiness of her stomach forgotten.

  “An hour,” Mickey replied, glancing at his watch.

  “We bothering to put them through the shower?”

  “Nah. I’ve got a better idea on how to fill the time.” Mickey grinned, his tobacco-stained teeth flashing. “This one over here owes me an apology.”

  He stood, thrusting his thumbs through the front belt loops of his filthy jeans, eyes locked on Caroline.

  “Okay! Okay, please,” Mackenzie called out. “Caroline can apologize, she’s really sorry for biting you.” She turned desperately to Caroline, who was mute in panic. “Caroline! Say sorry,” she pleaded.

  Caroline was shaking her head in distress, her fist back in her mouth and strings of saliva streaking her chin.

  “She’s scared, she’s just scared! She’s not saying she’s not sorry,” Mackenzie babbled as Mickey walked to stand before them, rocking back on his heels with a smirk.

  “I like the way you beg. It’s real pretty,” he said, his attention now on Mackenzie. She shook in revulsion as he perused her body, his eyes sliding over her as though she were already naked. “But I like to settle my scores. And you’re a pretty one, so you’re going to take a pounding later tonight. I’ll give you a break now.”

  Horror had Mackenzie’s chest squeezing painfully tight, and she tore at her jacket pocket to find her inhaler. Gasping for shallow breaths, her hand shook so hard that Maggie held the inhaler to her mouth as she sucked back frantically.

  Mickey reached down and grabbed Caroline by the upper arms, pulling her to her feet. She was floppy and unresponsive, immediately collapsing onto the floor.

  “Fuck, woman!” Mickey cursed.

  “Stop. Take me instead,” Maggie yelled, falling to her knees and covering Caroline’s body with her own. She looked up at Mickey. “I’ll take her place.”

  “I don’t want you, old woman,” Mickey sneered with derision. “Get out of my way.” He kicked, his boot connecting with the side of Maggie’s head. She cried out and fell to the side, allowing Mickey to drag Caroline by her hair into the middle of the room.

  “Ever had a dick up your ass?” Mickey grunted, pushing Caroline onto her stomach and straddling her thighs as he unbuckled his belt.

  The room came into sharp focus for Mackenzie, the cottony haze from lack of oxygen dissipating into dreadful clarity.

  Leon had moved closer, riveted by the scene before him with one hand already shoved down the front of his pants. His gun lay, forgotten, on the nightstand.

  Mackenzie didn’t think. She had the weapon in her hand before she’d decided to move. She noted absently her shakes had gone, her hands were steady. Mackenzie didn’t even worry she wouldn’t know where the safety was or how to take it off. It was easy. It was right there, and gave a satisfying click. And she raised the gun right behind Leon’s head, and she pulled the trigger. Easy.

  The blast of sound was shocking, and she faltered at the kickback. Mickey was screaming something, and wrestling with the jeans around his ankles. He had a gun in his back pocket and she knew she needed to kill him. Now. Because once he had it in his hands, they were going to wish they were dead.

  And so she did. She raised the gun again, feeling the pull in her shoulders, and squeezed the trigger.

  Mickey fell backwards, his lifeless body flopping awkwardly to the floor.

  Seconds ticked by.

  Mackenzie finally lowered the gun, letting it hang loosely from her fingers. The metallic scent of blood was overwhelming and her ears were ringing in the sudden silence.

  Maggie and Caroline, both still on the floor, stared at her. Stunned.

  No one moved.

  Outside, a motorcycle roared by.

  “Fuck. Fuck-fuck-fuckity-fuck,” Mackenzie whispered, stepping backward to sit on the edge of the bed. “I killed them.”

  “You did good, girlie.” Maggie stumbled to her feet, holding her head and wincing.

  “Let’s get the fuck out of here,” Caroline said, reaching for Mickey’s gun.

  She was wet and sticky, wiping bloody hands futilely against her equally bloody jeans.

  Mackenzie nodded, resolutely not looking at the bodies of Leon or Mickey. “We have less than an hour before we’re taken downstairs. We need to move quick.”

  Caroline heaved to her feet and ran to the bathroom, where Mackenzie could hear her vomiting. She came out with a clean face and hands, and lips tight with determination.

  They were getting the hell out of here.

  It was almost too easy, softly opening the door and finding an em
pty corridor.

  “Left or right?” Maggie asked.

  “Right. There were stairs next to the elevator,” Mackenzie replied, Leon’s gun heavy in her hand.

  The corridor stretched before them, dotted with room doors that threatened to open and expose them at any moment.

  Mackenzie ran forward, reaching the elevator first and unable to stifle a scream when she saw the floor numbers lighting up as it ascended. “Hurry!”

  Caroline was supporting a lurching Maggie, and Mackenzie dashed back to help, practically dragging them to the fire escape doorway.

  The fourth floor lit up on the elevator.

  The fire door was heavy, and for a moment, Mackenzie panicked that it was locked. When it grudgingly opened, she pushed Caroline and Maggie through, following so hard on their heels both of them stumbled.

  The door was swinging closed, the strut mechanism slowing its movement until Mackenzie yanked on the handle. It hadn’t latched properly when she heard the terrifying ding of the elevator reaching their level.

  Oh god, oh god, oh god.

  The three of them froze, soundless, expecting the door to burst open.

  Nothing.

  “Quick, quick!” Mackenzie hustled them, ducking beneath Maggie’s other shoulder. But they couldn’t fit three abreast down the stairwell and she paused, unsure if she should lead the way, or protect their rear.

  A flash of doubt had her focus wavering. What did she think she was doing? She was going to get them all killed. Or worse.

  “Girlie! Get moving!” Maggie hissed, pushing her forward. “Don’t lose it now, we need you.”

  It was enough to clear her indecision. She leaped forward, gun raised. The slap of their feet descending the stairs was unbearably loud. Level four. Level three. Level two. They paused.

  “Let’s stop on level one and see if there’s a service elevator,” Mackenzie said. “If we keep going down these stairs, we’ll end up in the lobby, right?”

  “Exactly where we don’t want to be,” agreed Caroline.

  They rushed the last level of stairs, listening at the fire door for any sound beyond.

  “I think I should go out,” Mackenzie stated. “I’ve got the gun and, if I get caught, they’ll only have me and not all of us.”

  “What? No!” Caroline protested.

  “Just let me find where the service elevator is and make sure there’s no one around,” Mackenzie insisted. And then, not waiting for their reply, she pushed the door open cautiously and slipped through. It snicked closed, and she was alone.

  Adrenaline spiked her throbbing heart, and she scanned left and right, searching for a telltale exit sign. Nothing. She ran to the very end of the corridor, terrified at every moment of discovery. It finished with a wall of glass overlooking the street outside. No service elevator.

  Mackenzie remembered a nightmare from her childhood, where she was trapped in an endless maze with no hope of escape, and despair threatened to swamp her.

  Retracing her steps, she reached for the fire door when she noticed an unobtrusive door beside it, with a small Service sign.

  “Oh god!” she gasped, pulling it open to reveal a second set of elevators. “Oh god, thank you!”

  She flung open the fire door to a cowering Caroline and Maggie, who followed her without question to the service elevator.

  “Kitchen?” Her finger hovered over the control panel of buttons.

  “Laundry,” Maggie said. “They’ll be using the kitchen, but I’ll wager they haven’t set foot in the laundry.”

  Mackenzie’s stomach dropped along with the elevator. What if there was no exit from the laundry? She hated that there was only one way to find out.

  “Can we trust him?” Jim said, rubbing his hand roughly against his whiskered cheeks.

  Jake was crouched between Buddy and Jesse, with Jim taking up the rear, waiting behind the row of dumpsters at the back of the hotel for Zed’s signal.

  “We don’t have a choice,” Jake snapped.

  “Are you still bleeding?” Jesse asked, eyeing Jake’s side.

  “It’s fine. You patched it up, and it’s stopped bleeding. Quit thinking about me and get your mind on what’s about to go down.”

  Jake was tense and coiled. Ready.

  Zed was going to take them in through the kitchen and escort them to the suite upstairs, promising to act as a decoy if needed. In return, he wanted to leave with them.

  As much as Jake wanted to go in with guns blazing and kill every single last one of the bikers, stealth was the only way he knew he could get Mac out safely. And failure was not an option.

  When Zed’s arm stuck through the kitchen door, waving an empty garbage bag, they sprang to life, running for the back entry.

  “They haven’t brought the women down yet, but everyone’s heading to the ballroom to hear Gemma announce the lottery,” Zed said, motioning them into the stainless-steel industrial space. “We can take the service elevator.”

  Jake handed Zed their only spare weapon, a small hand pistol. “Know how to use this?”

  Zed nodded, and Jim glared first at Jake, then at the kid.

  “Don’t make us regret giving that to you,” Jesse muttered.

  The five of them crowded in front of the doors to the elevator, going over Zed’s directions for the fifth floor. Jake needed them to shut up and do the job. His skin was crawling with suppressed anticipation. He needed Mackenzie back in his arms.

  “Ah, shit.” Zed inhaled, eyes trained on the lit-up floor numbers. “There’s someone coming down!”

  “What? Fuck! I just pushed the button to make it stop,” Buddy cried.

  “What do we do?” Zed asked, wide-eyed.

  “I’m not getting shot in the back as I run away,” Jake declared, widening his stance and raising his AR-15. Shoulder to shoulder, the others did the same.

  “No hesitation. Shoot to kill,” he instructed, voice firm.

  The ding of the elevator arriving was innocuously cheery.

  Jake’s finger twitched on the trigger as the door began sliding open.

  Inhale. Fire on the exhale.

  He breathed deep, blood thundered in his ears.

  “Jake!”

  “Stop!” Jake’s shout was hoarse. Ravaged. He staggered backward.

  “Caroline!” Jim surged forward, knocking Maggie as he clutched his wife. “Oh god, Caro!”

  Mackenzie blinked at Jake, steady hands pointing a Glock at his chest.

  “Whoa. Mac, it’s okay.” He raised his hands, reaching for her. “Come on, baby. Come out here to me.”

  Slowly, she lowered the pistol before launching herself into his arms. Her shoulders shook with sobs and he held her tight, tighter. It was hard to breathe around his heart in his throat.

  “She’s hurt! We need help!” Jim roared, oblivious to the noise he was making. Jake looked up to see him patting Caroline feverishly, looking for the source of the blood.

  Jesus Christ. Caroline was covered in it. How was she still standing?

  He pried Mackenzie’s reluctant body from his, setting her away so he could see her properly.

  “Are you hurt?” Terror bled through his question.

  “I’m fine. She’s fine. We need to go!” Mackenzie’s eyes were wild, her breathing choppy.

  “Do you have your inhaler?” he asked, prepared to carry her out if necessary.

  “I’m fine,” she repeated impatiently. “How do we get out of here?”

  Her urgency finally registered through his euphoria. They weren’t safe yet.

  “This way,” Zed said, starting forward.

  As a tight group, they ran for the exit, Jesse and Buddy carrying Maggie between them. Bursting through the door into the night, Jim took the lead, directing them to where they’d left the truck.

  “Go, go!” Jim urged, almost stumbling as he looked over his shoulder at the hotel.

  At any moment, Jake expected the night to erupt in gunfire.

  He tugged on M
ackenzie’s hand, urging her to run faster.

  And then they were there, the truck parked inconveniently beneath the bright spotlight of a street lamp. Jesse and Buddy helped Maggie into the bed of the truck and jumped in after her, while Jim pushed Caroline into the front passenger seat.

  “Um, I can still come, right?” Zed’s hand was on Jake’s arm, grasping. “Please say you’ll take me with you.”

  “Get in the truck, kid,” he replied gruffly.

  Jim drove to the outskirts of Dutton, putting distance between them and the gang, and outrunning the glow from the streetlamps. The craving to disappear into the darkness was deep in Jake, and he suspected Jim felt the same.

  “What happened back there? How did you get away?” Jake asked. “And if that’s not your blood, Caroline, whose is it?”

  “I… it’s—”

  “It’s a long story,” Mackenzie interrupted. “Let’s not go over it now.”

  The truck slowed, and then stopped, idling on an asphalt road that had petered to gravel. Jim asked, “Where to?”

  Jake looked at Zed. “Any ideas?”

  “Sanford. We’re going back to Sanford!” Caroline cried. “My kids!”

  “Honey, we can’t go back,” Jim said somberly. “Not now. We’ll get the kids, but we can’t go back now.”

  “Oh god,” Mackenzie leaned forward. “Gemma wants the whiskey from the distillery. They’re definitely going back to Sanford.”

  Caroline’s anguished sobs filled the truck, and Mackenzie burrowed her head against Jake’s chest. He pulled at her until she was sitting across his lap, her hammering heart beating against his.

  The truck shifted as Jesse jumped from the back, making his way to Jim’s window. “That farmhouse isn’t far from here, the one we went to after we got away from them last time.” He looked at Jake. “It’s only about a mile away, right?”

  “Yeah, good idea. It’s far enough away to avoid detection, and they’ve already looted out this way. Hopefully, there’s no reason for them to come back.”