Dead Highways (Book 3): Discord (19 page)

Another week rolled off the calendar.

We ate.

We drank.

We showered.

We didn’t play Monopoly again.

I told everyone in our tight group that Aamod apologized to me. They were all equally as surprised as I had been, but no one was convinced he’d turned a corner. Still, Aamod and I kept away from each other. His daughter, however, made a point to come around more. She even sat in on a few game nights in the library, and it was after one such session that I talked to her about learning to shoot. After many words of reassurance, Naima agreed to meet me the following morning in the gym.

“You gonna help me teach her?” I asked, moving all the targets into place. The day before the gym was used for a pick-up basketball game. When not in use, we stuffed all the bookcases and other target holders in the back storage room.

“I think I’ll let you go it alone this time,” Ted replied. “If you like I can hang back and observe, but I think you’ll do fine.”

“Well, I don’t think Naima knows much of anything about guns. Not even the basics.”

Ted shrugged. “Neither did you at one time.”

Understatement of the year.

Naima quietly slipped in a half hour later, shy and apprehensive, like she was about to interview for a job she needed but didn’t actually want. After exchanging morning pleasantries, I grabbed a pistol and pointed out the basic parts of the gun, just as Ted had kindly shown me months back.

This is how you release the magazine.

The magazine is where you put the bullets.

I think I was more nervous than her, hoping I wouldn’t make a mistake with Ted sitting nearby listening in. I suddenly knew what my former teachers must have felt like when the principal sat in on the class to observe, saying nothing but jotting down a million notes. With each scribble of pencil to paper, the pressure to perform intensified.

Naima loosened up and became more comfortable as the lesson went on, especially after I told her some personal stories about my time training at Ted’s shop. I still held the record for the most stupid questions asked. And even though Ted was adamant that there was no such thing as a stupid question when it came to firearms, I thought I had asked enough to earn a plastic trophy. Or at the very least a commemorative sticker.

Finally, we got down to the good stuff.

“You ready to shoot?”

“I guess,” Naima said.

I gave her some eye and hearing protection, which given all we’d been through over the last few weeks, seemed a little ridiculous. None of us wore protection when taking down the infected. When the adrenaline’s pumping, gunshots don’t seem quite as loud. However, when everything got real quiet, as I lay in bed at night trying to get to sleep, I was constantly reminded of the damage done. The endless ringing never stopped.

Next, I handed over the .22 pistol. Naima held the gun away from her like it was a grenade about to go off.

“Don’t be afraid of it. You need to have a solid grip but also be relaxed.” I helped her into position, showed her how to line up the sights, and then stepped back. Twenty feet off to the side, Ted gave me the ok sign. “Now when you’re ready, take off the safety like I showed you, then aim and pull the trigger.”

Naima spent a good minute pointing the gun at the target before firing. Some of it was probably because she was worrying too much about perfectly aligning the sights, but I think a lot of it was just her nerves getting the best of her.

Bang!

She trembled a little as the gun went off and then started laughing. “I don’t think I hit the target.”

“I don’t think you did either,” I said. “But that’s okay. Keep trying.”

Slowly, round after round, Naima began to gain confidence, even with a crowd gathering around behind us to watch. I figured they were drawn in by the sound. After changing out the magazine, I stood behind Naima and placed my hands on top of hers, demonstrating how to adjust her aim and reiterating that she needed to hold the gun tighter. Naima emptied the second magazine, hitting the target with most of the shots.

Ted, sensing other people wanted to practice, started doing crowd control. Moments later, many were firing off shots under Ted’s supervision.

“How did I do?” Naima asked, as I walked her toward the exit.

“You did good. Better than my first day.”

“Really?”

“Really. You should come back tomorrow. It wasn’t so bad right?”

She shook her head. “I think I could get used to it. Thanks for helping me.”

“No problem.”

Not seconds after Naima left the gym, Peaches came up to me with a stunned look on her face like she’d just caught me masturbating.

She pulled me outside where we wouldn’t have to yell over the gunfire. “What’s going on?”

“I was just helping Naima learn to shoot. What’s going on with you?”

“How come you didn’t tell me?”

“Huh?”

“How come you didn’t tell me?” she asked again.

“Why does it matter? Training is what I do now.”

“Yeah? You get that close with all your trainees?”

That old Gin Blossoms song played in my head.

Hey Jealousy.

“Only the women,” I said, with a wry smile.

One of these days, I’d say the right thing on the first try. I had a lot to learn about how to diffuse a woman’s anger. Note to self: Don’t make jokes. It’ll only make things worse.

“That’s not even funny, Jimmy.”

“How was I getting close?”

“You had your arms around her.”

“I was showing her how to hold the gun.”

Peaches crossed her arms and gazed at me with prying eyes. If I was lying, she was determined to find out simply by studying my every movement. I didn’t look away. Never show weakness. I had nothing to hide anyway.

“So there’s nothing going on between you two?” she asked, still not satisfied.

I put on my best serious face, knowing even the slightest grin would set her off. “No. Nothing. She’s just a friend.”

She remained quiet for a moment digging into my eyes again, and then said, “Okay, I trust you.”

Doesn’t sound like you trust me,
I thought, as she plodded off toward the school.

Bowser passed her on his way to the gym. “Girl problems?”

“How’d you know?”

“The look on her face said it all.”

“She thinks I like Naima.”

“Do you?”

“Not like that.”

“I had to ask,” Bowser said. “Better get used to it. Women get jealous a lot. Least the ones I’ve been with did.”

“How’s it going with Zoe? Any luck?”

“Nah,” Bowser said, chuckling. “She said she’s a lesbian.”

“You’re kidding?”

“Nope. That’s what she said. I don’t really believe it though. So I’m gonna keep trying.”

“Man, that’s too funny. Sounds like you got bigger girl problems than me.”

For the rest of the day, I thought of ways I could make Peaches feel better—somehow ease her mind. Naima was certainly attractive, and it was hard not to flirt sometimes, especially for a flirting pro like me, even if the flirting was just harmless fun. I had zero intention of doing anything with Naima, except growing our friendship. Aamod had finally settled down and began treating me nice. The last thing I wanted to do was arm that bomb again. Being my first real relationship, I had no idea how to proceed. It’s not like I could have flowers delivered with an
I’m sorry for getting too close to the female trainees
note attached. I finally decided to do nothing. Give her space and time to cool down.

Instead, she warmed up.

After game night in the library, and the others had wandered off, Peaches tugged me between two of the back bookcases and shoved her tongue in my mouth.

“Whoa, what are you doing?”

“I don’t know,” she replied, trying to work the zipper on my pants. “You?”

Whoa, whoa, whoa, whoa, whoa.

“I’m not doing anything in
here
.”

“Why not?”

“It’s a library.”

“So. No one’s in here but us.”

She pressed against me, hot and ready, like those awful Little Caesars pizzas. Next thing I knew my pants were around my ankles. I hurried to pull them back up.

“Someone could come in here and find us.”

“It’s late,” she replied, fighting for control of my pants. “Everyone is going to bed now.”

“Yeah, and what if someone can’t sleep? Maybe they come in here to check out Great Expectations or something.”

“I have great expectations,” she said.

“You shouldn’t.”

“We haven’t done anything. Aren’t you ready?”

“Sure. It just needs to be the right time. In the school library is
not
the right time.”

“Fine,” she pouted.

“I’m sorry.”

She sighed and walked away, leaving me standing between the bookcases waiting for things to die down. I realized after she left that she hadn’t jumped me because she wanted sex. After being jealous of me spending time with Naima, she wanted to mark her territory. She wanted reassurance that she was the only one. And I gave her nothing.

Thinking back on that night in the library weeks later, I regretted not going through with it.

Because sometimes you don’t get a second chance.

“What’s this about?” I asked Robinson.

“No idea.”

The six of us—me, Peaches, Robinson, Bowser, Aamod, and Naima—waited outside the gym for the seventh member of the original group. Ted had called the meeting to speak with us in private, said he had some big news he needed to share.

It had been a cloudy day. A cloudy week, for the most part. And the overcast skies perfectly fit the overall mood of the group. For a few days I could sense there was something going on with Ted. He kept to himself more often than usual, spent a lot of time writing in a small wire notebook. When confronted, he’d say he was just thinking about stuff.

Stuff?

A non-answer.

After how good things had been going at the school, I think we were all a little worried that Ted’s news might somehow shatter our good fortune to pieces.

Ted came out of the school building and walked over, skipping puddles left by a morning rain shower.

“Hey all.” He glanced around the schoolyard, making sure no one was close enough to hear what he was about to say. “I called this meeting because I wanted y’all to be the first to know. Figured you deserved it, rather than hear it secondhand. So Paul and Susan don’t know yet.”

“Don’t know what?” Robinson asked.

Ted took a deep breath and then spat it out. “I’ve decided to leave.”

“What do you mean…leave?” I asked. “Leave the school?”

“Yeah.” Our collective frown made Ted drop his head a little. It was obvious he felt terrible about delivering the news.

“And go where?” Robinson asked.

“West Texas,” Ted replied. “A rinky-dink town named Sierra Blanca. That’s where I’m from. It’s about ninety miles east of El Paso. I might have mentioned it before.”

“You mentioned it,” Robinson said. “But why go now? What do you hope to find there?”

“I don’t know. Maybe nothing. But it’s where most of my family lives…or lived. And I thought it would be nice to at least see my family home one more time. I’ve been thinking about this for a while now. But I wanted to make sure everything was good here before I took off.”

“So…you’re just leaving us then?” Peaches asked. “Are you gonna come back?”

“I can’t say for sure. You know how it is out there. But I’ll probably try, if things are like I expect back home.”

“Of course they are, Ted,” Robinson whispered. “You know that.”

“Most likely. But I have a way about me, ya know. I get restless sometimes. And this is something I gotta do. We…um…um…my family…”

It was the first time I’d ever seen Ted get choked up. He was normally about as emotional as a potted plant.

“What?” Robinson prodded.

“I haven’t really spoken to my family in many years,” Ted finally said. “We had a bit of a falling out, you could call it. It wasn’t all my fault, but most of it was. And I…I feel like I gotta make amends now. I need to reconnect with them, even if they’re no longer there. I think just being in that old house, surrounded by pictures of them, will be enough. It’ll be my way of saying sorry.”

We all stayed quiet for a moment, upset that he was leaving but sympathetic to his reasoning.

“I’ll go with you,” Robinson said.

“What? No, no,” Ted said, shaking his head. “I’m going alone. You have it good here. I don’t want to ruin that.”

“I don’t care. Everyone else can stay back. But I owe you.”

“You don’t owe me.”

“I’m going with you. I won’t let you go alone.”

“If you’re going then I’m going,” I said to Robinson.

“No, no, no,” Ted muttered. “Stop this. I’m going alone and that’s the end of it.”

“No, Ted, it’s not,” Robinson said. “The only reason we’re even here right now is because you came along to help me look for my son. I would have never made it on my own. Shit…we’d all be dead right now without you. So I’m going to return the favor, and we’re gonna get there together. When were you thinking about leaving?”

“A few days.”

“Good. That gives us enough time to plan a route.”

Ted, not the arguing type, finally gave in to Robinson’s demands, and simply said, “Okay.”

That night I sat in bed and thought about how different things were going to be without the two of them around anymore. They had without a doubt been the leaders of our little group since the beginning, and even though we were surrounded by hundreds of other people now, I couldn’t imagine life without them. The idea that somehow they’d return later on was total fiction. They’d never make it all the way to west Texas and back. Their luck would run out sooner or later. It was just the two of them, after all. The minute they walked out of the school, I’d never see either of them again.

So I’d decided I’d walk out with them.

No matter what they said, I’d fight to go. Like Robinson, I wouldn’t take no for an answer. I wasn’t so sure about Bowser, Aamod, or Naima, but Peaches would come along. She’d come this far because of me. She’d go a little farther.

I’d miss spending my days at the school. The air conditioning. The cafeteria. The super cool solar shower bag. Game night in the library. The new friends I’d made, like Paul, Susan, Jenson, Zoe, Craig, and the girl he liked with the silly laugh, Emily. And all those that I was still getting to know—many of them new people Paul had brought in over the past month. Nor was I looking forward to being on the road again—being in danger every second. Living at the school made me believe in Paul’s vision. We could rebuild. We could survive. We were doing it. But despite all the promise the school held, I still had to go. I had to leave the comfort and safety behind. The strongest relationships always win out in the end, and for better or worse, Ted and Robinson were stuck with me.

Little did we all know, Ted had other plans.

The next morning.

The sun came up over the trees beyond the schoolyard, pouring golden light through the big classroom windows. I yawned and sat up, glanced around the room. Peaches heard me moving around, opened her eyes, and then rolled back over. She pulled a sheet up to hide her face from the bright sun. On the other side of me Robinson had his mouth open, snoring lightly. Bowser’s cot was empty, which wasn’t surprising given he’d started taking on interior fence guard duty lately, anything to get close to Zoe. Half of the other people were gone as well, including my fellow gym rat, Ted.

No big deal. He was an early riser. I couldn’t remember one day over the last month where I woke before him. He liked to be outside in the fresh air, watch the sunrise.

Then I saw the piece of paper.

I quietly got up and walked over to Ted’s bed, peered down at the single sheet of white paper. On top of the paper was a brown key. I hesitated, knowing what the note said without even having to read it. I knew what the key was for too.

It was for me.

Robinson rolled over, rubbed his eyes. “What’s up?” he asked in his best stuffy morning voice.

“Ted left a note.”

“A note?” Robinson rose to a sitting position. “What do you mean? What does it say?”

“I haven’t read it yet. I just saw it.”

Annoyed by our talking, Peaches came out of hiding and glanced over. “Trying to sleep over here.” She tucked her face back under the sheet.

“You should get up,” I said. “Ted left a note.”

A minute later, we sat next to each other on Ted’s bed. I stared down at the brown key in my hand while Robinson read the note aloud.

“To all my friends,” he began. “I didn’t want to leave this note, but you didn’t leave me much choice. I’m sorry it had to be this way. If I had let one of you come, then all of you would have come, because that’s the kind of loyal people you are. But this is something I have to do alone. I hope you can forgive me. I couldn’t have asked for better friends. Stay here at the school and take care of each other. This is a good place. Jimmy, I left the key to the armory. I let Paul know and he’s cool with it. Don’t worry, you’ll do a fine job teaching people to shoot without me around. I’m proud of you, kid. I’m gonna miss all of you, and I truly hope maybe we’ll see each other again someday. Until then, stay safe. Your friend, Ted.”

We sat shoulder to shoulder on the bed in silence for many moments, absorbing Ted’s last words.

I wanted to be mad at him for sneaking out in the middle of the night, not giving us the chance to say a proper goodbye. But I couldn’t be mad at him. I understood. Everything he said in the note was true. We were never going to let him leave by himself. And though I’d never know for sure, I’d keep my fingers crossed, hoping he made it to his family home in west Texas, and once there, be able to make peace with the past that had such a heavy hold on his heart.

If anyone could survive such a perilous journey alone, it was freckle face.