After the Crux Read online

  Ross straightened and stuck his cold hands in his pockets to warm them. His gloves were too thick for work under the truck’s hood. “Really?” Finding booze was hard enough—it had been the number one looted item after the Crux hit—but actual wine? “Big cellar?”

  “Not too shabby. The door was hidden in the back of a closet behind piles of trash.”

  Ross nodded. It made sense that Jake would have looked. Early survivors hadn’t piled trash in closets—they’d thrown it outside. Trash in a closet indicated hidden supplies.

  “Not just wine either. I found a supply of seed packets. They’re probably not good, but we could take them to Dorian, let him see. Also, DVDs.” His cheeks, ruddy with cold, twitched as he tried not to laugh. He lost and the air frosted his breath. “And porn.”

  “Wine, seeds and DVDs. Plus porn. You sure someone isn’t protecting that stash? Sounds like a survivor to me.”

  Jake’s grin disappeared. “It was. He didn’t make it.” He held his finger to his open mouth and mimicked pulling the trigger.

  Regret filled Ross. They came across survivor suicides so often they shouldn’t have affected him anymore, but they all did. He wished he could find them all. The good people. More numbers in their group meant more protection. “We’re really lucky to have our family,” he murmured, though he didn’t need to say it aloud.

  Jake knew that all too well.

  Ross had come upon Jake and Lynn in Oklahoma while on a supply run. They had boarded up their house, and from the bodies scattered around the windows, had been fending off the raiders for days. Ross had nearly been shot, but he’d backed off and stuck around over a week. He’d watched them, knowing they were roasting in the boarded-up house in the middle of summer. He’d fought off a couple of assholes who’d talked about Lynn’s long red hair and slim form, then finally used a remote-controlled toy truck to send Jake and Lynn a note. He’d told them he had no interest in the woman and had a family of his own with plenty of room for more in their big, self-contained home. They had no reason to trust him, but for some reason they had.

  He’d spent another two weeks getting to know them before he’d trusted them enough to take them home to Dorian and Jenna. Four years had passed, and Jake and Lynn rounded out the family in a way that made it feel complete.

  “Ross, there are maybe over a hundred bottles down there. We could open them on special occasions.”

  Ross grinned. “Truck’s full. Where will we put them?”

  “We could take a couple of boxes for now. Dig another cellar this winter. I’ll build the wine racks. We could come back in the spring. I’ll camouflage the entrance.” He bit his lip. “I’m going to pick out as many as I think I can fit. There are wine boxes down there, too.”

  “Convenient.”

  “Guess he had to bring them home somehow.” Jake grinned and took off.

  He’d be gone for a while. Jake’s love for wine was a big source of amusement at home. His first attempts to make his own had been so bad, Jenna had called it fruity rotgut. He’d gotten better once Ross had found books on the subject, but the thought of a decent red made Ross’s mouth water.

  Chuckling and excited about some real wine for a change, Ross ducked back under the hood. He had everything repaired, clean and running when pain struck him across the spine. He only had time to glimpse the baseball bat coming for him again as he fell to the ground.

  “Elijah wants to play in the snow.”

  Jenna groaned, knowing the kids had come to her because she’d been out in it earlier, fishing. She certainly didn’t want to go back out. Cold snaked under her blue wool sweater even here in the warm kitchen as she stirred a huge pot of fish chowder.

  “Elijah, huh?” she teased Gwen. “Guess you have no interest in it yourself.”

  Gwen grinned, but didn’t answer. At ten, she was already bold and somewhat manipulative. Her tendency to offer big hugs made up for it though—most of the time. Jenna eyed the bits of white fuzz peppering Gwen’s strawberry-blonde hair.

  “What did you get into?”

  “Nothing, I swear! I was helping Dorian in the greenroom and I held some fuzzy plant too close to the fan.”

  Chuckling, Jenna picked up the bowl of crushed herbs Dorian had brought her for the chowder. She sprinkled a few teaspoons into the creamy, white soy base, then shrugged and dumped the whole bowl in. She liked flavor in her food, didn’t much like to cook though.

  “How come Lynn and Georgia aren’t cooking?” Gwen asked as if reading her mind.

  “Don’t know. They had something to talk about this morning, I guess.”

  Gwen sighed, twisted her thin fingers together in annoyance. “So are you gonna take us out or what? Dorian gave Elijah a big carrot we can use for the nose.”

  “Ah-ha, snowman time, is it? Why isn’t Dorian taking you?”

  “He said you loved building snowmen, and would have the perfect eyes for him.”

  Lynn laughed as she came into the kitchen. “Sneaky devil. I know you’re just now thawing out from fishing this morning, so I’ll take them.” She winked at Gwen. “As soon as I finish mixing dessert for later.”

  Gwen gestured to the half-hiding, half-hovering Elijah to come out. Jenna had a major soft spot for the six-year-old and would have moved him right into her wing, but he’d bonded with Georgia when Ross had brought him home a month after finding her. No one knew what had happened to Elijah’s family or how the little boy had still been alive.

  Georgia quietly walked into the kitchen and stroked her hand over Elijah’s black curls. He grinned up at her and Jenna spotted the missing tooth at the same time as Georgia, who offered up a dramatic gasp.

  “It finally came out!” she said, grinning as the little boy held out his hand, palm up. “Guess we’d better alert the tooth fairy.”

  Who was usually Ross.

  Jenna frowned at the reminder. He should have been back by now. The snow was already inches deep and even with the plow they’d installed on the truck, the road up here was difficult once snow set in.

  It was also why winter was Jenna’s favorite season. They all hunkered down into the bright, beautiful house and felt safe knowing most would never venture this far up the mountains in snow. It was such a far cry from the early, hard winters.

  “Missing Ross?” Lynn asked.

  “About as much as you’re missing Jake, I bet.”

  “Yeah, thought as much.”

  Jenna frowned and gripped the fat, wooden spoon tighter as she stirred the thick chowder. “He’s my family.”

  “He’s family to us all.”

  “I know.” Jenna laid the spoon directly onto the counter, knowing Lynn would immediately fuss and put a spoon rest underneath it.

  Everyone knew the kitchen was Lynn’s favorite room and thank goodness someone liked to cook. Jenna’s repertoire was limited to chowder, vegetable soup and tea.

  Of course, in this kitchen, cooking wasn’t really a chore. This part of the house was built above ground. High ceilings with skylights kept it bright inside, mahogany cabinets lined the walls, and a massive brick, two-way fireplace dissected the kitchen from the eating area. The island in the center of the kitchen boasted a shiny, black six-burner gas stove. Ross had brought home a subzero, massive refrigerator along with two deep freezers that nestled along one wall. They matched the black-and-beige speckled granite countertops.

  Gwen and Elijah ran over to watch Lynn pull out the ingredients for her applesauce spice cake. It didn’t require eggs, and they’d canned so much applesauce over the summer, it lined the pantry shelves like an army.

  They really had to find chickens in the spring run—most had died off without care and Ross said he had to go pretty far south to catch wild ones. They froze in the winter up here. Dorian had drawn up plans for an insulated pen if they ever got lucky enough to find any.

  “I wonder why Jake and Ross didn’t come back before the snow.”

  Jenna looked up at Georgia when the woman spo
ke. That she missed the men was a miracle, but no one could doubt her affection for Ross, Jake and Dorian. It had taken the men most of the year to reassure her they’d never hurt her. Georgia had really started coming out of her shell in the last couple of months, but she still rarely spoke.

  “I guess something delayed them.” Jenna met Lynn’s worried gaze before they both schooled their features for the kids’ sake. Elijah would stay clueless, but Gwen was getting sharper and more attentive by the day.

  “Wish they’d get home today so they could have some of that chowder of yours. Smells like heaven.”

  Jenna grinned. Both Jake and Lynn were always comparing things to heaven. She wondered if they still had any spiritual beliefs. She sure didn’t. Not since watching the Crux slash through everyone she knew. Her grin melted away. “You’re just saying that so I’ll take over cooking more often.”

  Lynn shrugged. “Would leave me more time to make clothes. Speaking of which, did you see the quilt Georgia made? It’s a beaut.”

  Georgia scowled, something she wouldn’t have done a few months before. “Shhh. It was supposed to be a surprise for Dorian and Jenna. A celebration for when…you know.”

  Jenna quickly held her face over the hot soup pot so the heat rapidly crawling up her cheeks could be explained away. She knew exactly what Georgia was getting at. Jenna wanted a baby. Wanted one badly. But she’d become lovers with Dorian at seventeen and after eight years, she was pretty sure she couldn’t have children.

  Chapter Three

  Ross awoke to the kind of pain that made a person feel there’s never been anything but pain. All-encompassing, it made his skull feel packed full—like one huge throb.

  “Hey, you okay, man?”

  The voice came in a whisper, but it still hurt. Wincing, Ross blinked into a fog of gray. Walls that had once been white but now showed huge strips of rusty metal surrounded him. Sniffing, he grimaced. Even through the pain, he smelled the faint, metallic tang of urine. Opening his eyes wider, he realized he was inside a van. A nasty one.

  “Spade hit you pretty hard. You gonna live?”

  “For now.” Ross focused on the kid, taking in the skinny build covered in dirty, ragged clothes at least three sizes too big. He had shoulder-length, blond hair covering most of his face. “Someone named after a garden tool hit me?” He tugged on his wrists. Tied.

  The teen stared down at him, biting his lip. His hair slid away from his face, showing a right cheek puffed with bruises nearly covering one green eye. “Trust me, be glad he only hit you. Look, I’m going to get you free but only if you promise me something.”

  Eyeing the finger-sized bruises on the kid’s skinny throat, fury began a silent battle with his pain. “How do you know you can trust me?”

  “Do you like to screw little boys?”

  Instant disgust made him want to puke. Guess his reaction was what the kid was looking for because he picked up a knife and climbed over Ross. “I had a feeling you weren’t like that. You have to get out of here fast. Don’t try to fight them—there’s too many. But you have to take the little kid with you. Name’s Colin. Won’t eat much. He’s quiet and won’t get in your way at all, I promise.”

  “A kid smaller than you?”

  The teen smirked. “I’m no kid. Not anymore.” He cut Ross loose, and waited while Ross sat up and shook feeling back into his hands.

  Fury and disgust made a rotten, rusty mix on his tongue. “They doing to the kid what they’re doing to you?”

  Shame flamed in the teen’s cheeks. “It’s just one of them. Spade. And no, not yet. I’ve managed to distract him. The little guy has only been with us a couple of weeks, and he’s been sick the whole time. That helped.”

  Ross’s gut tightened. “Sick that long? What symptoms?”

  “It ain’t the Crux, I swear!”

  Ross had to know more. He couldn’t leave anyone to this kind of hell but he couldn’t risk exposing his family to something deadly either.

  “Shit! Shhh. Hold on.” The teen carefully crawled to the front seats and peeked through the windshield. “They’re going to take your fuel. You have to be able to get out of here!”

  “I’ll get my fuel back. Tell me the kid’s symptoms.”

  The boy crawled so carefully back, the van didn’t so much as squeak. “Look, it’s nothing contagious. I’ve been slipping a little Bowman’s root into his food. My mother told me about it. It’s not enough to hurt him bad—just enough to make him puke sometimes so these assholes will leave him alone. They’re—” He broke off, swallowed whatever else he’d planned to say, and the bleak suffering that flooded his young face made Ross see red.

  “You’re coming with me, too.”

  Distrust narrowed the kid’s eyes. “I have somewhere to go. I nearly got away and would have been long gone by now if it weren’t for the little guy. If you could see the way Spade looks at him…” He shuddered.

  “Which one is Spade?”

  “Does it matter? Look, you gotta hurry. They don’t know about your friend yet.”

  “Oh God, Jake.” Jake was probably hiding and looking for the best way to free Ross. If anyone could, it would be Jake. The man looked like a geek but like everyone else who’d survived the Crux, he knew how to be deadly. “I’m not leaving you here and I don’t care how much you’ll eat. We have plenty.”

  The kid shook his head. “Not anymore. They already stole the food, ate a lot of it. But I have to go some—”

  “Jake and I will take you where you need to go,” Ross broke in. “I’m not leaving you here.” He made sure the kid was looking him in the eye before he continued. “Neither of us will touch you. Do you understand?”

  Distrust still splashed over his narrow features, though Ross did catch a slight bit of hope blaze through that expression. It was possible the boy had family, and that’s why he was so adamant about leaving. The fact he wouldn’t take off with a younger kid in danger said a lot about him. That, and he took on this Spade to keep him away from the other one. Ross had every intention of helping the teen and if he did have family, trying to talk them into moving to their mountain house. The more people, the safer they all would be. “Which one is Spade?”

  Thin shoulders slumped. “The bald one. He’s not the biggest or even the strongest. But he’s smart—scary smart—and he… I’ll just say there’s something really wrong about him.”

  Gut churning with fury, Ross nodded. “Where is the younger boy?”

  “He’s in the house by the gas station, the one with all the vines cut off the sign. The van doors squeak, so as soon as I open them, you have to run left.”

  “Stay with me. I’m not leaving you with these guys either.”

  He nodded. “Okay, but I’ll stay only until I know Colin is okay.” Color drained from his face when he glanced toward the front of the van. “Shit, they’re coming. You have to run!”

  In the next second, the boy was out the back door and running the wrong direction and Ross knew he was trying to distract them. Ross slid out of the back of the van. He’d get the younger kid, then come back for the teenager. The boy moved faster than the two thugs chasing him. Ross peeked around the other side of the van and slipped into an alley between two brick buildings, hoping it would be clear of overgrowth enough for him to get to the back. He knew exactly which gas station the kid meant. But he planned to check out who attacked him first. He wished he’d asked the kid how many there were.

  Two men came around the back of the van. One carried the pistol Ross had kept under his truck seat. He pointed it inside the open back doors. “Stupid boy let him go.”

  “He can’t be far.”

  The second man had to be Spade. Ross eyed the bald raider, his skin crawling as he took in the narrow face, thin lips…the deep-set eyes over dark circles. No, he wasn’t as large as the bruiser carrying Ross’s gun, but whipcord strength was obvious in his wiry arms and legs.

  Ross ducked back and hurried down the relatively clear alley
. He had to jump one thick root that had grown through the side of a building and climb a vine-covered pile of debris—solid debris like maybe an old grill. He ran once he got to the back, skirting a Dumpster with a hole chewed through one side. He heard shuffling noises behind him and ducked behind the Dumpster. Fresh rat droppings rested on years of dried ones, and scuffling noises sounded from inside the Dumpster. Ross contemplated crawling through the piles of crap to the back of the Dumpster, but changed his mind when he saw the crowbar. Footfalls sounded close, so he grabbed the heavy weapon and swung out at the knees of whoever came around the Dumpster first.

  His gun clattered to the ground as he took out the taller raider with another blow to the back of his head. He winced at the sound of the man’s skull cracking.

  Ross spun around to face Spade.

  The man eyed him up and down, thin lips stretching into a grin. “Love me a good fight.”

  Hatred burned like living fire in Ross’s gut. “Guess that boy isn’t strong enough to be much of a challenge.”

  “He has other, better uses.” He bent and pulled a long-bladed knife from his boot.

  Ross watched as the shorter man balanced on the balls of his feet, and knew he was in for a fight. He could easily swing the crowbar and take out the knife—probably the other man’s wrist while he was at it—but he had the feeling baldy was a quick one.

  Spade lunged, swerving at the last minute to sweep his knife close to Ross’s left arm. Ross jumped out of the way and swung the crowbar, but Spade evaded the swipe easily and came back around to stab again.

  The knife jammed through his jeans and slid halfway into the back of Ross’s thigh. Before the pain had a chance to register, Ross swung his crowbar into the back of Spade’s knee, and then dove for the gun. The sound of running footsteps hit his ears as he rolled onto his back, aimed and fired.

  Spade’s face went slack with shock as red quickly spread across his ragged, gray T-shirt. Ross kicked out with his good leg and sent Spade sprawling in rat shit—where he belonged.

  Wincing as fiery pain began to streak through his thigh, Ross rolled and aimed at the coming person, but lowered the gun to the ground when he saw Jake.