Dead Highways: Origins (5 page)

“I forgot I had this in my hand.”

Peaches frowned. “Are you okay?”

“No, I mean yes, but . . . you don’t understand. My grandma hates guns. She doesn’t know I had this. I’ve been keeping it a secret. She must have been so enamored with you that she didn’t even notice it in my hand.”

“Enamored with me? It sounded like she was more surprised.”

“Yeah, well, you’re the first girl I’ve had up here.”

“I feel so special. And you even lit a candle. How romantic.”

“That’s so we can see.”

“I know, I’m just messing with ya.”

I sat down at my desk. Peaches sat down on the bed.

“So Jessica is your real name?”

Peaches nodded. “How’d you guess?”

“You went from having one of the strangest names to one of the most common.”

“You can still call me Peaches. Everybody does.”

“But everybody’s gone now.”

“Not everybody.” She bowed her head. I sat there staring at her, hoping she wouldn’t start crying. Finally, she raised her head back up and said, “This is not the way I expected to go out.”

“I know what you mean. I thought the end of the world wasn’t until December.” Peaches bowed her head again, telling me she didn’t think that was funny. “Sorry, I’m just tired of thinking about it. I don’t know what else to do.”

“There’s got to be others like us.”

I nodded.

“We have to find them.”

“And then what?”

She shrugged. “I don’t know. Figure something out.”

On the floor against the wall was my cell phone, right where I had thrown it. I bent down and picked it up, turned it on. Still no service. I turned the phone back off and set it next to Sally on the desk.

“This might be the wrong time to ask you,” I said. “But do you have any idea what happened to Moses? He vandalized the store a while back and the police never caught him.”

Peaches sighed. “I know, and I’m sorry. That was my fault.”

“It’s okay. I just remember the police saying they questioned you about him.”

“Yeah, I told them I hadn’t seen him in forever. Kinda been running things on my own. Feels good to be free of his control.”

“I bet.”

“I’d like to think he’s—”

“What? One of them. The infected.” Peaches smiled. “Me too.”

I told Peaches she could sleep in my bed, and that I’d just pile up some extra sheets and make a nest on the floor, but she wasn’t having it. She insisted that there was plenty of room in my double bed for the both of us. The room was getting muggy with no AC, so I cracked open a window to let some fresh air in. The night was soundless except for the calm hum of the wind and the purr of the humvee sitting in the middle of the road. It was too dark to tell if it was the same one I’d seen earlier, but it was definitely of the military variety.

“Was that there when you got here?”

Peaches was rolled up under the covers. It was a strange sight, seeing a girl in my bed. She peered over the covers at me looking out the window. “What?”

“This humvee.”

“There was no one outside. I was very careful not to be seen or followed. Why . . . what is it doing?”

“Nothing. It’s just sitting there.”

“Strange.”

“You sure you weren’t followed?”

“Pretty sure, Jimmy.”

“Hmm. I just don’t trust them.”

“I’m sure it’s okay. They’re just doing their job, after all. Why don’t you come to bed? You need to rest.”

“I will in a minute,” I said, and blew out the candle on the nightstand.

I sat by the window in the dark watching the military humvee for another thirty minutes. I thought I could see the gunner perched in the back but was unsure. It was just too dark to know with any certainty. If they had followed Peaches to the store, wouldn’t they have done something by now, I wondered. And if not, didn’t they have somewhere else to be. It didn’t make any sense. Before long, I was asleep with my head on the windowsill.

Two hours later, I woke up with a terrible crook in my neck. I quietly sneaked into bed with Peaches, but not before taking another peek outside. The humvee was still sitting there in the road, still running.

It hadn’t moved one inch.

I woke up the next morning wishing I hadn’t slept with my clothes on, wishing I hadn’t been so self-conscious because there was a girl in my bed. It wasn’t even hot in the room, but still my body was covered in sweat. I felt like I was gonna have a heat stroke.

I quietly got out of bed so I wouldn’t wake Peaches.

Or Jessica.

Whatever.

My alarm clock was no good for telling time anymore due to the lack of power, and the fact that I never bothered to put backup batteries in it, but I had a wristwatch that told me it was 6:17. Sunrise was right around the corner.

I resumed my perch by the window and looked out at the humvee still sitting in the middle of the street. I couldn’t believe the engine hadn’t shut off during the night, even if the occupants inside already had.

Peaches groaned and rolled over the wet spot I had left behind on the bed. She didn’t seem to mind sleeping in my sweat. I was just glad she was still moving, glad that both of us hadn’t yet become infected like the poor people on the news. I returned my gaze to the street. Like the poor people out there.

I left the room and got a bottle of water from the kitchen, drained it fast. The water seemed to help cool me down. I didn’t remember fever being one of the early indicators of the infection, just fatigue, loss of motor control, blurred vision.

Then coma.

My stomach growled, unsatisfied with just the water. The last thing I had eaten was one of grandma’s lean chicken and rice TV dinners, and it wasn’t particularly filling. So I checked the cupboard. Stale wheat bread. Instant grits. Rice cakes. A few cans of vegetables. Not bare, but nothing to jump up and down about. Nothing to make a good meal. The fridge and freezer didn’t contain much more than the cupboard, and what it did contain would spoil soon enough. I instantly regretted not going to the grocery store earlier in the week to stock up on food and supplies. The food here wouldn’t feed three hungry people for more than a few days.

I went back into my room and sat at the windowsill. As I watched the sun come up, I considered my options. Let’s see. I had no phone, no TV, no internet, no power, and only a meager supply of food and water. I couldn’t solve the first four problems, but I at least had a shot with the fifth.

I decided I would go across the street to the Haji-Mart. I didn’t think they would be open, but maybe I could force my way in somehow. Moments later, I realized I wouldn’t have to, as I saw the door to the store open and Naima poke her head out. She stared at the humvee dead in the road, just as I had for so long, and then ducked her pretty head back inside.

As I gathered together some stuff for the trip, like Sally and plenty of extra bullets, Peaches woke up.

She looked over and frowned at me. Her hair was a mess and her face puffy and red from sleeping on her arm.

“What are you doing?” she asked.

“What does it look like I’m doing?”

“Going somewhere.”

I nodded.

She quickly rolled out of bed. I don’t think I’d ever seen someone move so quickly that soon after waking up. “If you’re going outside, then I’m coming with you.”

“No.”

“Yes.”

I stuffed the muzzle end of Sally in my brown khaki pants like a real gangster and then turned to Peaches. “I should really get a holster, huh?”

“Might be a good idea if you don’t want to blow your dick off.”

I shook my head. She began to slip her sandals on. “I told you you’re not coming with me.”

“Why . . . where are you going?”

“Just across the street to the convenience store. We need food and water.”

“But I thought . . .” She walked past me and looked out the window. “Jimmy, they’re still out there.”

“They’re infected.”

“How do you know?”

“You see the gunner in the back hunched over.”

She looked closer. “Oh.”

“Yeah, I bet I can sneak by them just fine. But still I want you to stay here with grandma, in case something does happen. There may be others wandering around. You never know.”

“But I could help you carry stuff.”

“Or I could make more than one trip. Look, I just don’t want to take any chances. Why don’t you sit by the window and you can watch me. If I have any problems, I’ll signal you. Can you do that?”

“What if you become infected?”

“The window’s been open all night. If the virus is in the air, it obviously doesn’t like us very much. And if it suddenly decides to change its mind, then I guess that’ll be our fate. You can’t do anything about fate, right? But we won’t survive here for long if we don’t get some more food. That we
can
do something about.”

Peaches smiled. “Look at you, suddenly taking charge. You have an energy drink for breakfast or something?”

“I wish. Just stay here with grandma, and keep an eye on me from the window. K?”

Peaches sighed. “Sure.”

“Don’t look so miserable,” I said, “we’re still alive.”

“Yeah, but what does that even mean anymore?”

“I guess we’ll find out.”

From the first step outside, I sensed something in the air, and it wasn’t just the stench from the dumpster behind the building. It was more visceral than a smell, something electric and unnerving. There were cold whispers in the wind, deafening sounds of chaos in the silence. And warnings of terrible things to come.

I walked steadily, building more strength with each step. Peaches had asked,
what if I get infected?
I had blown it off, but the thought sat on my mind like an anchor, weighing me down. What if I
did
become infected? What if I already was? Or what if I never did and I had to live the rest of my life in a world where there was a corpse around every corner. I wasn’t sure which I’d rather prefer.

Live or die.

Like I had told her, I guess I’d find out.

I had always been an introvert, staying mostly indoors, escaping the harsh reality of the world outside by living inside fictional worlds. I told myself I didn’t need many people in my life. That I was independent. That I was just misunderstood. That I was okay with being alone. But now, with the world undergoing immediate and perhaps irreparable change, I was forced to reexamine everything I thought I knew about myself, with the conclusion unclear.

I began to cross the road. I slowed down as I came upon the rear of the humvee. It was the color of sand. The gunner in the back was hunched over with his face out of sight and his right arm clutching the top of a high-caliber machine gun. A stream of large bullets hung from the left side of the gun. The sleeping gunner wore desert camo, a matching hard hat, and what looked to be a pair of safety goggles around his head. The back of his neck was the only part of his body exposed. I couldn’t imagine how badly he’d be sunburned after a full day in the Florida sun; even in March it could be unforgiving.

I walked along the front of the vehicle. The engine droned on at a constant pace. The windows had a decent tint, but still I could see human shapes from within. Did I have the courage to look inside the cabin?

Yes, I did.

If this was going to be the new world, I’d either have to get used to it or find somewhere to hide. There were no other options. There were no good options. Take it or leave it. I’d have to learn to be brave one baby step at a time.

The door was heavy but swung open rather easy.

“What are you doing?” a voice yelled from far behind me.

It was Peaches at the window in my room on the second floor of the bookstore. I frowned and held a silencing finger to my lips, and then turned my attention back to the humvee. Two soldiers were inside, dressed identical to the gunner except without the eye protection. Unfortunately for me, their heads weren’t down. They stared straight ahead like wax figures—eyes closed, mouths open, drool dripping down their chins. The driver still had his hands planted on the wheel. As I climbed up and reached over to feel around for keys on the other side, he suddenly slouched forward, trapping my arm between his upper chest and the steering column.

I felt a sudden urge to scream like a little girl but held my breath. I had to remind myself these men weren’t dead, even if they looked like they could be. I slowly pulled my arm back out as though I was afraid of waking the driver, and as I did, a line of thick, ice-cold saliva oozed down onto my forearm.

Now I screamed, fell backward to the pavement. I looked at my arm and felt a burning sensation rise in my throat. I forced it back down and tried to take another deep breath. I wiped my forearm against the concrete until most of the drool was off and then wiped the remainder on my pants. Then I got back to my feet and slammed the door to the humvee.

Fuck figuring out how to shut it off.

“Are you okay?” Peaches yelled.

I turned and gave a thumbs-up, checked my arm one last time for drops of spit, and then hustled across the street to the convenience store. A quarter mile down the street, I saw a car slowly cross the road and fall out of sight behind some buildings. It wasn’t a particularly busy time of day, and this wasn’t a busy road, but it was good to know there were still some signs of life.

As I approached the store, I noticed Aamod’s Toyota wasn’t parked along the side where it usually sat. It was possible they could have left in the time it took me to get downstairs, but I couldn’t remember seeing the car earlier from the window either.

I tried the door, but it was locked. No surprise there. I put my face to the glass, knocked a few times. The lights were off inside, and I didn’t see anyone moving about in the shadows.

I sighed. “Crap.”

I looked back at Peaches sitting at the window across the street. She never took her eyes off me. She was doing the job I gave her well. She really cared. She hardly knew me, but she cared what happened to me, even if it was just that without me, she’d be all alone. Regardless of her motive, it felt good to be needed. For this moment in time, I was all she had. I was like . . . her hero.

I smiled at her and then turned back around.

“Shit!”
I yelled, recoiling backward, thinking I’d seen a ghost.

Naima stood on the other side of the glass looking out at me, scaring the hero piss out of me. I wondered what Peaches would think of me jumping like a spooked cat.

“What do you want?” Naima asked.

“Can you open up?” She shook her head. “Please. I just need some food and water.”

She shook her head again. “Sorry. The store is closed.”

“Please,” I said again.

But she didn’t respond. She just stood there staring at me through the glass like I was some beggar. I felt like one. I felt like Kevin. I thought about the gun tucked into my pants. Yeah, I’m sure Sally would get her to open the door. More like run and hide in the back.

I sighed and walked away.

Maybe it was because I gave her some space that she felt comfortable opening the door. But she did, only enough to poke her head out.

I’ll never understand how a man as repulsive looking as Aamod could have produced a daughter as attractive as Naima. I figured she was either adopted, or her mom had ultra-strong genes. Her cheekbones were well defined, her lips soft, her nose small but sharp, her hair long and dark and shiny. But unlike Peaches, Naima dressed conservatively, probably due in part to her father, and while her breasts weren’t nearly as big, neither was the rest of her. From my little experience doing small business with her, she was also very kind and well spoken. A major contrast to Aamod’s stern and overbearing personality.

“Do you know what is going on?” she asked. “I see the soldiers around and it makes me nervous.”

“Me too. I only know what I saw on the news, and it wasn’t good. I’m not sure what to do.”

She slowly came the rest of the way outside. “I could sense something in my father this morning that wasn’t right. Like he wasn’t telling me something.”

“Where is he?”

“He went to my house to get my mother.” She took a deep breath. A look of concern ran all through her face. “He left over an hour ago. He should have been back by now.”

So that’s why the car wasn’t there.

“He wanted me to keep an eye on the store,” she continued. “He thought people might try to break in.”

I thought about how I had considered the idea of breaking in, and suddenly felt guilty.

“You’re guarding the store?” I asked, surprised.

“There’s a shotgun on the counter.”

“Oh, okay,” I said, even more surprised.

“Not that I would ever use it. But it’s there. And it’s loaded. He told me not to open the door for anybody until he got back with my mother.”

“You think something could have happened to him?”

“I don’t know,” she said, her voice quivering. “I sure hope not.”

“Tell you what,” I said, “maybe we can make a deal.”