Dead Highways: Origins Page 4

  I decided I wasn’t going to leave the store until this thing worked itself out.

  March 16, 2012.

  Second national televised address by the president. The fake-looking background immediately gave it away that he was no longer in the White House. He said to avoid travel if possible. He said not to be alarmed. He said that the CDC was close to having a vaccine. He said that because we are Americans we could get through anything. He said nothing of the most recent reports that over fifty percent of the residents of Nevada, California, and Arizona had become infected.

  Fallen into a deep slumber.

  March 17, 2012.

  First reports of the virus crossing national borders. Canada. Mexico. China. Australia. Japan. Great Britain. France. Germany. Brazil. Any country popular with businessmen or tourists began to experience the virus firsthand; thus all flights out of North America, South America, Europe, and much of Asia were suspended indefinitely. On the home front, the virus had made its way to all fifty states, including Alaska and Hawaii. There were massive power outages. Protests turned into violent riots on the street. Looters had their way with defenseless businesses. From coast to coast, cities burned as unrest among those not infected grew out of control. Systematic bombings of entire regions became a common occurrence, as the last remnants of the government and its reduced military tried any and all methods to slow the inevitable death of civilization.

  Unsuccessfully.

  March 18, 2012.

  I woke early, and as I had for almost an entire week, I turned on the TV to see the latest news, praying that somehow a miracle had taken place overnight. Where was God when you needed him? Instead, there was no signal. I checked every station, even the ones I never watched like C-Span and NatGeo. They were all down.

  I snuck downstairs, trying not to wake grandma. Despite the apocalyptic news reports, I was in denial. My head was lost in a cloud of fear and doubt. None of this was real. I felt like I was dreaming, and at any moment I would wake up. Television was an escape from reality, not a reflection of it. Whatever happened in that rectangular box wasn’t the truth. It wasn’t the world. It was how man viewed the world. In order to see the truth you only had to turn off the TV and look outside. Then it will all become clear. And so I did.

  As I approached the long glass windows lining the storefront, a military humvee passed by on the street going no more than five miles per hour. A soldier was hunkered down at the rear behind some sort of machine gun, while someone from within the vehicle barked instructions through a horn mounted on the hood.

  “Attention. All citizens must stay indoors until further notice. I repeat, all citizens must stay indoors until further notice. This is not a request. This is for your own safety. Refusal to follow this order will result in severe consequences.”

  I figured the soldiers must have been stationed out of Patrick Air Force Base, about twenty miles away. I didn’t dare challenge their rules, even as they rolled further down the road and out of sight. Throughout the day, I heard that same vehicle or one like it pass by and bark similar instructions, even long after the sun went down.

  I kept checking the TV but still no signal. We didn’t have much in the way of food, seeing as how I had stayed inside glued to the TV all week, so that night I had to settle for one of grandma’s microwave dinners. Surprisingly, they smelled worse than they tasted. I sat across from her at our tiny kitchen table and ate in silence. I think by that point we both had a grasp on what was happening. I think we knew no help would come. I think we were both wondering how much longer we had.

  After we had finished dinner, I gave my grandma a big hug and told her I loved her. All of this made that break-in we’d had over a month ago seem like nothing.

  “What do you think we should do, Jimmy?” she whispered as I held her close.

  “What can we do?” I replied. “Just wait it out. That’s all. Just wait it out.”

  Since the TV was no use anymore, I checked the internet for anything new on the outbreak. Except for a few personal blogs, it seemed most reporting within the United States had stopped. I figured most servers were down. Internet service providers asleep at the switch. I did find some reports about the worsening conditions outside the U.S. But as I began to scroll through them, the power went out.

  And it never came back on.

  I decided I’d call Officer Robinson to see if he’d be able to tell me anything. Without television or internet, I felt completely disconnected. Robinson was a cop. He should know something. More than me, anyway. My cell phone only had half its life left, but luckily, it was still showing that I had service.

  Unfortunately, Officer Robinson did not pick up, so I left a voicemail. Next, I called 911, but it just rang and rang and rang. Later that night, when checking the battery life on my phone, I realized service was down. I powered off the phone and threw it against the wall.

  “Jimmy, what was that?” grandma said from the other room.

  “Sorry, grandma,” I yelled.

  Hours later I was in bed staring up at the ceiling, a single candle beside me on the nightstand the only light in the room—silence the only sound. I tried to start a new book, an undead mash-up called Titanic with Zombies, with no luck. My mind was incapable of focusing on anything but my fear of what was to come, and the frustration of not knowing.

  Finally, my thoughts were broken by the sound of someone knocking on the door downstairs. I rolled out of bed. Who could that be? I wondered.

  Robinson?

  Moses?

  The military coming to take me away, or put me away?

  I grabbed Sally from the shoebox, and she accompanied me down the stairs. With the power out, the store was almost pitch black, as was the parking lot outside. Still I could see a silhouette of someone standing out there, their face pressed against the glass window.

  “Jimmy,” said a familiar voice. “If you’re in there, open up.”

  Of all people, it was Peaches.

  I shut off the alarm and unlocked the door.

  Peaches hurried inside. She looked down at the gun in my hand. “You gonna shoot me?”

  “I didn’t know it was you.” I said, putting the gun down on the counter. “What are you doing outside? Didn’t you hear the warnings?”

  “Yeah, I heard them. But I couldn’t stay there anymore. Jimmy, they’re all dead.”

  “Who?”

  “My neighbors in Shady Villas. They’re all dead, well most of them. The others must have already run off.”

  “By dead you mean infected?”

  “Yeah, infected, but they’re gonna be dead if they don’t get help . . . and Jimmy, I don’t think there’s anyone left to help ‘em. I’ve never seen it so quiet out there. It’s like the whole world has just gone to sleep.”

  “Not us. Not yet. Are you sure you’re not infected?”

  “If I were, would I be standing here right now talkin’ to you? I didn’t know where else to turn. I’m really sorry. Do you mind if I sleep here tonight? It’s too creepy out there.”

  “Sure,” I said.

  She ran up and put her arms around me, rested her head on my shoulder. “Thank you.”

  I put my arms around her. “Peaches, I’m sorry about how I treated you. I shouldn’t have said—”

  “It’s okay. It doesn’t matter anymore.”

  I could feel her trembling in my arms. I brushed my hand against her curly blonde hair. “We have to stick together now.”

  I grabbed Sally from the counter and had Peaches follow me upstairs. When we reached the top landing, grandma was waiting for us.

  “Why who is this?”

  “Grandma, I thought you were in bed.”

  “I couldn’t sleep.”

  “This is—”

  “Jessica,” Peaches said, extending her hand.

  Grandma smiled and shook it.

  “Jessica, huh?” I said. “I mean . . . yeah.”

  “It’s nice to meet you. I’m not used to seeing Jimm
y with a girl.”

  “We’re not together,” I said, trying to break this line of embarrassing conversation.

  “How did you meet my Jimmy?”

  “It’s a long story grandma. Maybe we’ll tell you tomorrow. Peaches . . . um, I mean Jessica just needed a safe place to stay for now.”

  “Is it safe to go outside yet?” grandma asked.

  Peaches shook her head. “No, I’m sorry. I wish I could say it was.”

  Grandma looked shattered. I told her we’d figure something out in the morning. We said goodnight and Peaches followed me into my room.

  “You’re grandma is sweet.”

  “Yeah, thanks,” I said. “Holy shit.”

  Peaches stopped examining my room and looked over. “What is it?”

  I held up the gun. Sally.

  “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.

  Chapter 10

  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.”