Page 74 of Doomsdate

“Yes, ma’am.” Connor salutes her, smiling smugly at her ass.

“What are you doing?” I whisper. “It’s like you’re seriously considering signing up for Connor’s gym cult!”

“I’m just curious.” Maisie glances at the patrol schedule posted to the wall. “They’re very organized, you have to give them that. We’ll leave after the tour. We still have plenty of sunlight to get out of the city, if need be. At least an hour, maybe more.”

“Maisie, I don’t think we’re leaving.” I eye the remaining crewmembers, still standing silently in formation down the hall where Connor lurks, watching us. In the sex smell. “At least, not with Connor’s permission.”

Just then, the eight members of A Crew march into the hall, scrubbed clean.

Also naked. Still.

Everyone marches in perfect synchronization except for the last guy in the lineup, the only one who’s not fully swinging his arms in time. The right one’s going, but he seems to be holding the left one pinned to his side, the movement hinging only from his elbow instead of his shoulder. It sticks out like a—well.

Like a sore arm.

He looks terrified. I frown after him until he disappears with the others into the laundry room, where another crew passes out freshly cleaned spandex.

“I don’t like the way they captured us,” Maisie begins, her brow furrowed, “but it was pragmatic on their part, and I really don’t think they’ll stop us from leaving. They untied our hands, didn’t they? They’re just—disciplined, that’s all. Kind of weirdly so, but hey, people respond to uncertainty and trauma in different ways. They don’t seem that bad, honestly.”

“I’m telling you, this is more than people with an unhealthy preoccupation with box jumps. We need to make a break for it as soon as possible. C Crew is a death sentence Connor’s going to put me on!”

“We’ll just tell him no. We’ll be out of here before he can make you do anything.” Maisie glances around to make sure nobody’s listening before her eyes return to mine. “Listen, with my background, I don’t say this lightly, but you sound really paranoid right now.”

“Just—please. Trust me?” I stare into her icicle-blue eyes. “They’re going to kill me and try to turn you into one of their sexy gym people if we don’t escape immediately. I know guys like Connor, Maisie; we cannot trust him. We’re a team, remember?”

After a second, her disbelieving face dissolves into resolution. “Okay. After the tour, we’ll leave. One way or another.”

“Ms. Shenandoah!” Connor grins as we rejoin him. “Let me show you the supplies room. Of course, when you join us, all your belongings will be collected here and available to the whole family. You have quite the rig, we saw.”

“Yes, we do,” Maisie says, eyeing the shelves with genuine pleasure. “Diets?”

“We’re Whole30 or GTFO.”

Maisie tilts her head to the side, surprise painting her features. “So you eat meat, then?”

“Organic, pasture-raised, hormone-free. Only the good stuff,” Connor says, then flexes his arms. “Can’t make gains like these without maximal protein.”

“Fascinating,” she says, and I can practically see her filing this information away to convince Gramps that it’s not the evil vegans after all. “Antibiotics, wound repair kits, oxygen, insulin supplies, protein bars, and loads of creatine, of course—you really are well stocked. Where is my rig, by the way?” she adds in among the compliments, much more naturally than her earlier “bandits!” explanation.

Connor pats his shorts’ pocket, the telltale rattling of keys coming from within. “Your rig is safe in our secured lot behind the building. We can process your belongings immediately if you like.” He raises his eyebrows in question. “We have about thirty minutes until the streets become active.”

“Thirty minutes?” I stare at the clock above the mirrored wall in alarm. “It won’t get dark for another hour.”

Connor scrunches his nose up. “Yeah, doesn’t matter to our mobs. It’s the ones in the dark houses, you see. They start moaning. It’s like a signal. Gets the ones outside riled up before the sun’s fully set. By five-thirty, the streets are impassable.”

“Well, it’s already almost five, so I think we should be going, dear. I’ll just be getting our cat, and if you could hand over the keys to our rig?” I hold out my hand, willfully ignoring the menace growing in Connor’s tight, botoxed face.

“I’m afraid I can’t do that. It’s not safe to let you out there without a place to bed down. You’ll just have to spend the night.” Connor smiles, and it’s a cold, bloodthirsty thing. “After you fill in on C Crew’s shift, of course. It begins in four hours.”

Nine p.m.? Yeah, there’s no way in hell I’m going out on killing patrol with these hot-ass weirdos.

“Maisie, with your martial arts training, I’d like you to stay behind and lead our evening fitness class. Everett will be fine out there with our C Crew. Just like pickleball, right, buddy?” Connor slaps me on the shoulder, giving me the grin of a man who clearly intends on sleeping with my wife.

Fake wife, Everett! Fake!

Nope. Doesn’t work. Blood still boiling.

Maisie’s eyes find mine, and I can tell she believes me now about Connor’s nefarious plans for us both. She nods imperceptibly.