Page 50 of After the Burn

That’s what they called it.

I had some alternative words for it. The term ‘unclaimed’ really pissed me off. I guess the days of choosing who you were with were over.

I sighed.

This new way of life was going to be hard for me to swallow.

For one, I wasn’t one to meekly accept the status quo, and for two, having no input into the family group I was placed in was unacceptable.

Beck and Lucas better have a plan because I’d rip the dick off any man who tried to force himself on me.

Harper had assured us that it wasn’t like that and that we had the final say.

I even believed she believed it.

But I would bet my left tit she was wrong. I could smell the corruption after meeting Gideon. Years of fighting for women’s rights were going down the drain. As the number of women left in the world dropped, we were going to become a valuable commodity. Birth rates would decline, and the number of infected would swell.

Was this the end of humanity?

I wanted to be sick at the thought, but I kept my head up and my face as expressionless as I could make it.

This new reality would eat that shit up. I straightened my shoulders.

You’re a badass bitch.

You’re not to be fucked with.

You can handle any motherfucking thing that’s thrown at you.

Hopefully, if I repeated it enough, I’d believe it.

Self-doubt would get you killed faster than anything else. Ben Caulder taught me better than that. I felt my eyes growing misty. Nope. I couldn’t think about him right now.

The motel held eight women in total. With Lila and me, the number shot up to ten.

I was more than aware that with numbers like that, the world had just become twenty times more dangerous for women than it had been.

Harper led us through the lobby while Rory walked beside her, clutching a stuffed rabbit with one ear hanging lower than the other.

The little girl watched me cautiously from beneath blonde curls without saying a word.

Good.

Rory would need to be cautious to survive this new reality, especially as a female. I didn’t envy Harper the task of keeping her safe.

The lobby itself looked almost normal at first glance. Mismatched couches, magazines, an old, faded, floral carpet, and a community bulletin board hanging front and center behind the desk.

It had lots of old-fashioned charm until you noticed the reinforced locks and the armed guards strolling around.

“They’re here for your safety more than anything else,” Harper said as she directed us to the desk.

Sure, they were.

An old woman with a scowl on her face greeted Harper. “I’ve prepared a room for these two.” Her hair was pulled back so tight it made my head hurt. She turned her gaze to us. “I don’t put up with any shenanigans. Any problems, and I’ll report them straight to Gideon.”

“I’m sure they’ll be fine,” Harper said in a soothing voice. “They’re both nice girls.”

She huffed as she handed Harper a key with a large red keychain, the room number written on it in marker. “Aren’t they all.”