Dead Highways: Origins (11 page)

“Thanks for giving me a ride.”

Bowser sat shotgun next to me, while Peaches and Olivia kept grandma company in the backseat.

“I’d be lying if I said I didn’t have an ulterior motive. Do you remember me?”

“Sure. You’re Kev’s buddy.”

“Funny, I was gonna say the same thing to you. But Kevin and I weren’t exactly buddies.”

Bowser smiled. “Same here.”

“In fact, he kinda got on my nerves.”

Bowser nodded, still smiling. “Same here.”

“Have you seen him lately?”

“Nah. Not for a week or so. Not since all this crazy shit went down.”

“Who is Kevin?” Peaches asked from the backseat.

“Oh, Kevin is just this kid who hung around the bookstore a lot,” I said.

“A customer?”

“No, Kevin had other interests than books.” I met eyes with Peaches in the rearview mirror. “Remember that joint we smoked the first night we met?”

“How could I forget?”

“Got that from Kevin, and I bet Kevin got that from Bowser here.”

Bowser looked away. “No comment.”

“By the way, I wanted to ask you about your name. Any relation to Bowser from Super Mario Bros?”

“It’s not my real name. Just a nickname given to me by some friends a long time ago.”

“Why Bowser, though? Do you like to pounce on people?”

“You wanna find out?”

“No, not really.”

“I’m just playin’ with you. My real name is Andre, but since everyone I hang with call me Bowser, it just stuck.”

“I know the feeling,” Peaches said.

“Hmm. Maybe I should have a nickname,” I said.

Peaches ignored my request and leaned in between the two front seats to ask Bowser a very specific question. “Hey, you got any . . . you know?”

“Not on me, obviously,” Bowser replied, knowing exactly what she was referring to. “But I got some at the house. Why?”

“Yeah, why, Peaches?” I said. “You aren’t really thinking about smoking right now, are you?”

“Oh, like you hadn’t thought about it,” she said.

“Not once.”

I was proud of myself. I had lied without cracking a smile.

“What was that ulterior motive you had then?”

I cracked the largest smile and said, “No comment.”

Bowser said he was fine with walking home from Shady Villas, so we wouldn’t have to go out of our way. I figured he just didn’t want us to know where he lived. Who knows? Maybe it was a shithole. Couldn’t be more embarrassing than the place I called home, or the beat-up tin can Peaches used to live in. Her trailer was about midway into the park, and one of the smallest around.

I pulled the car into the dirt driveway, and we all got out. Except grandma.

Before heading off, Bowser said, “If you want some green, I could get you some.”

“We don’t have anything to give you in return,” I said.

“You gave me a ride. Believe it or not, I ain’t the dick Robinson makes me out to be.”

“What’s up with that anyway?”

Bowser shrugged. “We used to be good friends growing up. Our pops both worked at the Coke warehouse down the road. Then my folks got a divorce and my dad moved away. I got into drugs. And we just went our separate ways. Been at odds ever since. Nothing more to it than that. I guess he’s been holding a grudge against me.”

“How many years has it been since you guys were friends?”

“We stopped chillin’ round the time I turned twenty-one or so. Next year I’ll be forty, so you get the picture. How long have
you
known him?”

“Just met, really. A crazy asshole broke into my grandma’s bookstore over a month ago, and Robinson was the first cop who responded. We kept in touch by telephone ever since then, trying to catch the guy who did it. A few hours ago, we finally did.”

“That’s good.”

“Yeah, that’s why we went to the police station . . . to lock him in one of the holding cells. Even though he was infected. I guess that worked out good for you too, huh.”

Bowser nodded. “You sure you don’t want anything?”

I looked over at Peaches. I didn’t want to make any important decisions without first checking with her. She was busy feeding baby Olivia.

“I think we’ll be fine,” I finally said.

“Okay, then. Good luck,” Bowser said, and began walking away.

“You know, Robinson’s trying to gather together as many survivors as possible. That’s why we’re going to his house.”

Bowser stopped and looked back. “What is he planning to do?”

“I don’t know. Stick together. Figure something out. If you and him could make some amends, I wouldn’t be against you joining us.”

“I don’t see that happening.”

“I could talk to him for you.”

“Thanks for the offer, but I got my own people I got to check on. And besides, Robinson don’t let go of grudges easily. He’s always been that way.”

“Well, if you change your mind, come on back. We’ll be here for a little while.”

After Bowser was out of sight, Peaches said, “He ain’t coming back.”

I sat down beside her as she finished bottle-feeding Olivia. “I hope you’re wrong. We need everyone we can get.”

Peaches invited me into her trailer and told me to sit on the couch and hold Olivia while she packed a few bags. I didn’t argue. She had only the bare minimum for furniture—couch, small dining table, TV and stand, and practically no decorations on the walls. I didn’t want to say anything because I felt bad, but her trailer smelled like a mix of carpet cleaner and cheese puffs. I know my place probably smelled like my grandma’s arthritis cream, but that wasn’t my fault. As the minutes passed, I began to wonder if she’d ever brought any of her clients back here and done anything on the couch. Luckily, most of the stains in the lime green fabric were of the dark variety.

After maybe fifteen minutes, she returned from the back bedroom with a suitcase in each hand and a giant bedazzled purse slung around her shoulder.

“I think that should do it,” she said.

“Only two bags.”

“Is that not enough?”

“I don’t know. I guess I just expected more. Aren’t women all high maintenance and stuff?”

“You have a lot to learn, Jimmy,” she replied. “And I’m not like most women.”

I had to bite my tongue to keep from saying something that was bound to get me slapped.

I helped her load the bags into the trunk next to mine, and the single bag I’d packed for my grandma. Then she made one final look through the trailer to see if she forgot anything. I leaned against the car, holding Olivia, who had already gone back to sleep, and waited for Peaches to return. Someone else beat her to it.

Gray shorts. Black tank top. Big muscles. Bald head. Black beard.

Bowser.

Or Andre.

Whatever.

As he got closer, I saw he was carrying a backpack.

“What happened?” I asked, as he walked up the dirt driveway.

“My boys are gone. My girl is gone.” He set his backpack down on the hood of the Buick. If grandma were ever going to wake up, that should have done it. “They’re all gone.”

“You mean . . .”

“Like everything else. Like everyone else. Gone.”

“I’m sorry.”

He shrugged. “That’s the way it goes.”

Peaches came out of the trailer, noticeably surprised to see Bowser standing next to me. “I didn’t think you’d come back.”

“Is it a problem?”

“No, but listening to you and Robinson go at it—”

“I’ll talk to him,” I said.

“Nah, I’ll do it. You don’t need to burn any bridges for me. What I got to lose anyway? If he says no, then he says no.”

“I think he’ll say yes.”

“That makes one of us,” Bowser said.

“I think he will too,” Peaches chimed in.

“Well, just in case he don’t, I thought maybe you guys would wanna do something with me.” He reached into the front zipper compartment of his backpack and pulled out three joints.

No sharing this time, one for each of us.

I looked over at Peaches. She didn’t have to say anything. Her eyes said yes.

We made a nest for Olivia in the backseat next to grandma, and then sat on the trunk of the car silently smoking the joints. It felt different this time. I wasn’t concerned with grandma finding out, or the police coming to put me away. I let all of my muscles relax, let the cold reality of what the world had become fade away, far, far away, until all I could focus on was a small bird sitting on the branch of a tree across the way, and the lovely song it sang.

The melody sounded a bit like Aerosmith’s
Dream On.

And so I did.

In that moment, everything else was meaningless.

Robinson answered the door and said, “What in the hell is
he
doing here?”

No, hello, good to see you.

Glad you made it.

Come on inside.

Make yourself at home.

Still, I was relieved we’d found the right place, and that my high had worn off. I was concerned Robinson might notice something was different—or maybe his dog, who was somewhere out of sight behind him, but who was barking with either great enthusiasm or disdain at our arrival.

Robinson’s house was located in the northwestern section of town, in an area commonly referred to as Canaveral Groves. Here, the lots were generally much larger and heavily wooded, and the community had a reputation for being relatively peaceful, as long as the occasional bonfire or neighborhood karaoke party didn’t bother you. Better than the shootings and stabbings that occurred in my neck of the woods. It wasn’t unusual to see people riding around on dirt bikes or four-wheelers around these parts, even on horseback, though I couldn’t imagine Officer Robinson engaging in any of those activities. Today we saw no such thing, however, as this was certainly no normal day.

Peaches walked up and down the driveway, bouncing baby Olivia in her arms, while Bowser stood just behind me on the porch steps.

“Sorry,” I finally said. “It was my idea.”

“You don’t have to explain,” Bowser said, stepping forward.

“No,
you
do,” Robinson said. He came out of the house and shut the door. “What are you doing here? Did I not make myself clear enough earlier?”

“You did.”

“So . . .”

“So I thought maybe you’d reconsider.”

Robinson sighed. “You thought wrong.”

“Look, I don’t know what you want me to say. I’m not gonna apologize for the way I’ve lived my life. I am who I am and you are who you are. I can’t change the past, or the shit that went down between us. But things ain’t like they were before.”

“You did say you wanted to gather as many survivors together as possible,” I said.

“I meant
good
people,” Robinson replied.

Bowser shook his head and stepped back.

“I think he
is
good.”

“You don’t know him like I do.”

“You don’t know me,” Bowser said. “Not anymore.”

“I know enough. How many times have you been arrested?”

“What does that have to do with anything?”

“How many times?” Robinson asked again. “You know, you might be able to fool Jimmy cause he just met you, but you aren’t fooling me.”

“Whatever, man. Where do you expect me to go?”

“Am I supposed to care? You can go wherever you want, as long as it’s out of my way.”

Bowser looked at me and said, “Told you it was a waste of time.” Then began walking away.

“Did you tell him how many years you spent in prison? Or did you leave that out?” Robinson shouted. Bowser kept walking down toward the car. “Yeah, that’s what I figured.”

“What did he go to prison for?” I asked.

“Grand theft auto.”

“Like the video game?”

“No, like real life grand theft auto. Also had a few drug offenses. He’s no petty criminal, this guy. No matter what he’s told you.”

I turned and looked back at Bowser now leaning against the car. “He didn’t really tell me anything.”

“No, why would he? I can practically smell the weed on him from here.”

I cringed, knowing what Robinson was probably smelling was
me
.

“Despite all that, things
have
changed,” I said. “I’m sure we all have things in the past we’re not proud of. I know I do. I slept with stuffed animals until I was like sixteen years old.”

“I think this is a little different.”

“I once stole money from my grandma’s purse.”

“Did you ever steal a car?”

I pretended to think about the question, then said, “Well, no, can’t say that I have.”

“Like I said, this is a little different. I know you meant well by bringing him here, Jimmy. But it’s just not gonna work. I can’t trust him.”

I sighed. Officer Robinson was starting to make me wish I were negotiating with Aamod.

“I think you
can
trust him, but you just don’t want to.”

“What the hell’s the difference?”

I shrugged. “I don’t know. I’m just trying to get you to reconsider. I think . . . I mean, I know he could be useful. Plus, no matter what happened between you two in the past, or whether he’s been to prison or not, doesn’t change the situation we’re in. No offense, but you’re not a cop anymore, not really. What the law was or wasn’t before doesn’t really apply now.”

“And that’s exactly why I can’t trust him.”

“I don’t follow.”

“He didn’t respect the laws before. How do you think he’ll act when he knows there are none?”

I stood in silence for a moment, unsure of how to respond. He had a good point. Finally, I said, “Let me talk to him.”

“There’s nothing he can say that will change my mind.”

I put my head down in defeat and began walking toward the car, then turned back and gave it one last shot. If Robinson was set on being the immovable object, then I was determined to be the unstoppable force.

“I know this isn’t the way you wanted things to be. This isn’t the way any of us wanted things to be. My grandma is sitting in the backseat of the car dying as we speak. She is literally all the family I’ve got.” I could slowly feel tears begin to well up in my eyes. Everything had happened so suddenly, I hadn’t even begun to properly grieve. I had hoped Officer Robinson wouldn’t notice my wet eyes, though, on second thought, I wondered if my crying on his shoulder might be enough to change his mind. “You don’t know what’s happened to your son, but I imagine the worst has crossed your mind.”

“I’m trying not to think about it.”

“Yeah, well, I wish I could imagine my grandma not being ill. But I’m not so lucky. Maybe I’d rather be like you, believing there is still hope. Maybe knowing isn’t so great after all.”

“Trust me when I say that I feel your pain,” Robinson said. “It doesn’t go unnoticed. And I think maybe we can help each other out in that regard.”

“I do too. I also think we can help
him.
And he can help us. He doesn’t want to be here anymore than me or Peaches. I’m sure even Olivia would rather be at home with her mother and father, if she could say so. But no, she didn’t get that choice.” I looked back at Bowser still leaning against the car, arms crossed, waiting for me to drive him somewhere. Peaches walked up beside him, and they began talking. “He’s here because he doesn’t know where to go or what to do. He’s lost friends and family, just like the rest of us. Change has come whether we like it or not. Shouldn’t we try to at least make the best of it? Don’t we all deserve a second chance?”

I walked away before Robinson could respond. I’d hoped he’d stand there and think about what I’d said. Instead, he followed me to the car.

“What’s going on?” Peaches asked. “Is everything okay?”

“I don’t know,” I said, looking back at Robinson.

“Jimmy, can you open the trunk,” Bowser said. “I need to get my pack.”

“No, it’s okay. We’ll give you a ride. You don’t have to walk.”

“I just need to get something before we go.”

I went around and opened the trunk for Bowser. He grabbed his backpack and opened the main zipper compartment. I feared he might pull out a big bag of weed, or worse, a gun. And after I had done all that great work buttering Robinson up. But all he took out was a white envelope. He walked over and handed it to Robinson.

“What’s this?”

“See for yourself.”

Robinson opened the envelope and looked inside.

I prayed it didn’t contain anthrax.

He stared at the contents of the envelope for a moment, and then looked up at Bowser. “Do I need to count it?”

Bowser shook his head. “Nah, it’s all there.”

“Not much good it’ll do me now.”

“I know. But still . . . I thought—”

“It’s a start,” Robinson said.

“What is it?” I asked. “What’s in the envelope?”

Robinson pulled out a bunch of twenty-dollar bills. Ten or fifteen of them. “The money he owed me.”

“From the NBA finals?” Robinson nodded. “Wow, that’s a lot of money to bet on one game. You guys might have a gambling problem.”

“It was six games, actually,” Robinson replied. “And it was what we did back then, right?”

“Yeah, it was,” Bowser agreed.

Robinson smiled and put the money back in the envelope. “Gonna take a lot more than that to earn my trust. But it’s a good start.”

“Thank you.”

“Don’t thank me,” Robinson said. “Thank Jimmy. He fought pretty hard to get me to let you stay. He obviously sees something in you.”

“Maybe you will too.”

To this, Robinson said nothing. He shoved the envelope in his pocket and walked around to the trunk of the car. “Now let’s get your stuff inside. I’m starting to get hungry again.”

Robinson had a fairly old ranch-style house from the looks of the outside. The inside, however, looked brand spanking new. He said that it hadn’t been so nice when he’d bought the place a few years back, and that he’d only recently finished remodeling. He had done a damn good job, too. There were tile floors in every room except for in the bedrooms, of which there were three. New stainless steel appliances in the kitchen. New paint on the walls, those not covered in wooden paneling. Even much of the furniture looked new. After we finished bringing the stuff from the car, including my grandma, who we carefully set down in one of the guest rooms, Robinson led us out back to show off his new deck. It was about the size of the bookstore. Maybe a little bigger.

“Nice view,” Peaches said.

The deck stood about six feet off the ground and looked out on an expanse of large trees that had to be much older than the house.

“Thanks,” Robinson said. “I just got this finished. I thought it would be a nice place for me and Jax to sit and unwind, huh boy?”

Jax, a four-year-old German Shepherd, just looked up lovingly at his owner and wagged his tail.

No doubt tired of hauling Olivia around, Peaches sat down at the covered patio table.

I was inspecting the grill. “Is this where you work your magic?”

Robinson smirked. “Yeah, you’ll see. Oh that reminds me. I need to see what I’ve got.”

Ten minutes later, after scouring the kitchen for ingredients, it was clear that what he
had
wasn’t much.

“Oh well, we need to make a trip to the store anyway,” Robinson said. “The sun will be going down soon. We’re gonna need lots of candles. Maybe we can locate a generator, though I’ve never used one before, so I’m not sure how to hook one up.”

“It probably has directions,” I said.

We sat down in the living room with pen and paper and made a list of things to get at the store. When we were done, the list contained over two dozen items; some very specific like a bassinet for Olivia, others much less specific, like canned food. There was no point in bringing grandma along for the ride, so we let her continue to sleep in the guest room. Jax, Robinson’s loyal four-legged companion, would stay behind to keep her company. The rest of us loaded into Robinson’s police car—Bowser in the front passenger seat, Peaches, Olivia, and I in the back—and headed off to the Super Walmart about eight miles southwest of Canaveral Groves.

When we reached the outer limits of the store, we realized immediately this trip wouldn’t be as painless as we first thought. On a normal day, navigating through a Walmart parking lot could be a nightmare. People walking every which way, not the least bit concerned with being hit by a car. Kids running far ahead of their parents. Kids lagging far behind their parents. Cars running stop signs, climbing curbs, parking sideways, fighting over handicap spaces.

Today, though . . .

Today was on a totally different level.

Living on Florida’s east coast all my life, we’d experienced our fair share of hurricanes, and far more than our fair share of hurricane
scares
. You know, those storms that look like they’re coming right at you and then at the last minute take a quick turn. No matter how many times it happened, people would always rush out to buy supplies like the apocalypse was coming. This time, the apocalypse had actually come, and it made even the legitimate concerns of an inevitable hurricane landfall seem miniscule in comparison. Forget the midnight crowds on Black Friday; this was easily the greatest car clusterfuck I’d ever witnessed.

“Jesus Christ,” Robinson said. “There’s no way in.”

Cars blocked both entrances to the parking lot, as well as the grassy median between them. Every parking spot and every parking lane was filled. Even if we had Doc Brown’s flying DeLorean from
Back to the Future
, the only place left to park would be on the roof of the building.