I turned my back on Kiaya, too ashamed and dejected and terrified to tell her I’d changed my mind. “I need to go to the bathroom so we can get back on the road. You should go, too. I don’t want to have to stop in an hour.”
“Yeah,” she mumbled, but I’d already stepped into the stall, so I couldn’t see her expression.
Back in the lobby, I found Kyle waiting for me, a bag in hand and a somber expression on his face. The woman was gone, but I didn’t ask who’d taken her or where they’d taken her to, or even if she’d still been breathing. The truth was, I didn’t want to know.
“The place cleared out pretty fast,” Kyle said, nodding to the bag, “so we got record-breaking service.”
“That’s good.” I held my hand out, and he passed me the bag. “Use the bathroom. I’ll wait in the car.”
He nodded and sighed, and I couldn’t help noticing some of the light had left his eyes. Probably for good if, like Kiaya and me, he realized what this little pit stop meant. Which he probably did. Only a moron would’ve looked at that woman on the floor and not thought about the virus. Only a moron wouldn’t be thinking about the virus every minute of every day now. Kyle was no moron.
Kiaya stepped out of the bathroom just as Kyle reached the little alcove where the two doors stood, and she didn’t bother keeping her distance. As if something had suddenly occurred to him, he looked from her to me, his mouth pulling down into an exaggerated frown. The idea that he might suspect what I’d said to Kiaya, that he might know I’d briefly considered leaving him behind, twisted my insides into knots. How selfish was I? Very, apparently.
I waved the bag, forcing out a smile. “We’ll be in the car.”
Kyle nodded, but a glimmer of doubt flickered in his eyes. He’d been ditched before, so it was understandable, and the thought made me feel ten times worse.
He turned without saying anything to Kiaya and continued to the bathroom.
She stopped in front of me, her big brown eyes filled with doubt and worry. It was more emotion than she usually showed, and despite the circumstances, I couldn’t help thinking it made her look more attractive. “Will you be waiting in the car?”
“I will,” I said, although there was still a small part of me that wanted to drive off and leave them both behind. Maybe I should have traveled alone. In some ways, it would have been a hell of a lot easier than this.
“Okay.” She gave a firm nod, but a glimmer of doubt still flickered in her eyes. “I’ll get my food and meet you at the car.”
“Okay,” I repeated.
Cars circled the parking lot looking for spaces like vultures searching for a carcass to pick apart, and I had to zigzag between them to get to my own car. Backing out was going to be a pain in the ass since no one wanted to leave even an inch of empty space just in case another car tried to worm its way by them, but at the moment, traffic seemed like the smallest of all my worries. The biggest was wondering if I’d make it home to see my parents. Something I was starting to seem less and less sure of.
I slipped into the passenger seat since Kyle said he’d drive and passed the time by nibbling on fries even though my appetite had gotten carried away with that woman’s body. Honks sounded, filling the silence. Quite a few were probably aimed at me, but I ignored them. We’d be on our way soon enough, and then whoever was blaring their horn could take their turn in the fast food restaurant of death.
I sighed.
Only a few minutes passed before the driver’s door opened, and Kyle smiled when he slid in. “I wasn’t sure if I’d find you waiting.”
“I wouldn’t leave you,” I said through a mouthful of fries, hoping they’d muffle my words and mask my shame.
“I don’t know if I’d blame you.” He pressed his lips together as he stared out the windshield, his hands gripping the steering wheel until his knuckles turned white. “If I don’t make it, make sure to call my family. Please. I don’t want them to wonder what happened to me.”
“Kyle,” I said, hesitantly reaching out to put my hand on his arm, “you’re going to make it.”
He blinked before turning to look at me, his eyes rimmed red, tears shimmering in them. “We don’t know that.”
“We don’t know if any of us are going to make it.”
It was the first time I’d voiced my deepest fear out loud, and just like I’d thought, it made things worse. Made the terror more real and present.
I closed my eyes and let out a deep breath, thinking about how my parents would feel if I died before getting to them. Worse still was the fact that they didn’t even know I was on my way. I could get sick and die on the side of the road—left behind by Kyle, if karma was an actual thing—and they’d never know what happened to me. It was idiotic. I should have called them, should have let them know what I was doing. Even if my mom got mad, it was better than leaving them to wonder where I was. I should have called.
The back door clicked, and I opened my eyes as Kiaya slid in, paper bag in hand.
I turned back to face Kyle. “I’ll make sure they know if it comes to that.”
He gave me a weak and trembling smile. “Thanks.”
All I could do was nod.
I was going to call my parents, but not now. Later. The next time we stopped. That way, I could have a private conversation with them. A private moment to say goodbye just in case this was the end.
The little bit of lightness we’d managed to conjure up when first leaving campus this morning had disappeared with the sick woman’s body, and we’d been driving for what felt like hours in silence when Kiaya let out a gasp. I looked over my shoulder to find her not staring at her textbook for once. Instead, her eyes were glued to her phone and her mouth was hanging open.
“What is it?” I asked.
She lifted her gaze to meet mine, and the fear shimmering in her eyes filled me with dread. “The president died.”
“Shit,” Kyle muttered.
He lifted his gaze to the mirror so he could look back at Kiaya, but only for a second. Then he was once again focused on the road in front of us.
“What happened?” I asked, even if it was obvious.
“It says he got sick a couple days ago and died sometime yesterday.” Her eyes flicked back and forth as she read. “The vice president is in charge and will be sworn in as soon as possible.” She looked up. “That’s all. They didn’t comment when asked if it was the same virus going around, and they didn’t tell anyone where he was when he died or if the vice president was exposed.”
“Not surprising,” I muttered. “They’ve been feeding us crap or as few facts as possible for weeks now. Why should this be any different? I mean, according to the news, the virus is contained, but we all know that’s a load of shit.”
I turned back around and slumped in my seat, thinking once again about the woman in McDonald’s and wondering if that would be our fate and how soon we’d know if it was. That was the biggest problem with all the lies and government cover-up. The general public had no idea what to expect. I knew there was an incubation period for viruses, but without any information about this current bug, I had no idea if we had to wait two weeks or two hours to learn our fate, and it pissed me off. I hated waiting more than anything.
Luckily for me—or unluckily—I didn’t have to wait long before learning the incubation period wasn’t two weeks like I’d feared.
We’d just crossed into Texas, and the sun was moving toward the horizon as dusk drew near, and the sky above us darkening to indigo while the horizon glowed pink and orange.
That was when I heard the first sniffle.
I sat up straight, my gaze snapping to Kyle. The approaching darkness created shadows in the car that made getting a really good look at him tough, but I couldn’t miss the constant bobbing of his Adam’s apple. Like he was swallowing over and over again.
“You feeling okay?” I asked, trying to sound casual.
In the back, Kiaya sat up straighter.
“Yeah.” Kyle
cleared his throat and purposefully didn’t look my way. “My throat’s itchy. That’s all.”
I looked behind me, my gaze meeting Kiaya’s, and neither of us spoke for a second. My heart had started hammering harder with that first sniffle, doubling its pace at Kyle’s response. When he let out a little cough, it nearly exploded.
This was it.
“Maybe we should find somewhere to stop for the night,” Kiaya said slowly.
Kyle’s hands tightened on the steering wheel, but he said nothing. He didn’t look my way either, and I realized he was leaving it up to me. Whether he suspected that I’d suggested we leave him behind, I didn’t know, but I did know he was going to give me the option now. Not that it mattered. It was too late. If we hadn’t been exposed in the McDonald’s, we were now. Which meant stopping was the best thing for all of us, because Kiaya or I—or both of us—could come down with symptoms at any second.
“Yeah,” I said, the word coming out like a sigh. “Let’s check out the next town.”
The next town turned out to be Vega, Texas.
Maybe it had been something at one time, but it wasn’t now. The main street looked like dozens of other small towns along Route 66. Old, empty businesses that probably hadn’t been open since the 1960s lined both sides, their windows boarded up and their signs faded until they were nearly illegible. Deserted gas stations, their parking lots long overgrown with weeds, contrasted with the signs that declared Vega to be a historic town worth visiting. Here and there were older buildings that had clearly been preserved in an attempt to draw tourists, but they did little to erase the feeling of abandon hanging over the city. Even with the extra traffic martial law had filtered in, the place felt like a ghost town.
The first two motels we passed had the words NO VACANCY lit up on their signs, but the third one we came to didn’t. It was an old Best Western motel that had seen better days, but I still said a silent prayer as Kyle pulled into the parking lot that they had a room available. With the luck we’d had so far, though, I’d probably go into the front office only to learn the NO on the sign had burned out years ago and the place was totally booked.
“I’ll go in and see what we can get,” I said, reaching for the door handle.
“You don’ t have to.”
Kyle’s words made me freeze.
I turned back to face him, but he was staring straight ahead, avoiding looking at me.
“What do you mean?”
“You know what I mean.” His hands wrung the steering wheel, and despite the fact that he was only eighteen, he suddenly looked like an old man. So serious and mature. So certain he was facing his end. “You don’t have to wait around with me. Not when I’m only going to die.”
“We don’t know that,” I said, nearly choking on the words.
“We do.” Kyle closed his eyes and swallowed then sucked in a deep breath before looking at me. “I’m sick. It’s not just a tickle in my throat, and we all know it. I can feel it getting worse with each passing second. Actually feel it.”
Tears had filled his eyes, and being the sympathetic crier that I was, I found myself blinking to stop my own from falling over.
“It doesn’t matter,” I said, having to swallow sobs. “I won’t leave you to die alone.”
The second the words were out, I knew they were true. Despite my instinct back in McDonald’s, I couldn’t have left him. It was too cold, too selfish, and that wasn’t me.
“You don’t even know me,” Kyle said, his voice barely more than a whisper.
“I don’t need to.” I pulled on the handle and shoved the door open. Before I got out, I said, “No one deserves to die alone.”
I slammed the door seconds before my tears broke free. They slid down my cheeks, but I somehow managed to hold the sobs back. Kyle couldn’t see me crying. Not when he was the one facing death.
I hurried toward the office, only able to find it through my tears thanks to the glowing arrow pointing around the corner. The second I was out of view, I pressed my back against the brick wall and set my sobs free. They broke out of me in a painful wail that shook my body. I was on the verge of breaking to pieces, and I wrapped my arms around my stomach in a desperate attempt to keep it together. It didn’t feel like it was working, so I held myself tighter, but still I cried. I cried until my throat was raw, until my arms hurt from holding myself, until my legs shook and my eyes burned. This wasn’t what I’d expected to happen when I decided to make this trip. I was twenty years old. I shouldn’t have to hold someone’s hand as they died in a shitty roadside motel in a slightly less shitty town.
“God,” I gasped, barely able to get the words out. “What is happening?”
“End of the fucking world,” a voice responded.
I jerked at the sound, not sure where it came from, and a second later a man stepped around the side of the Coke machine. Sharp, blue eyes swept over me, taking me in from head to toe before focusing on my face, and my scalp prickled under his scrutiny.
“Didn’t mean to scare you.” He gave me a tight smile that didn’t reach his eyes. “I would have made myself known before, but you were a little preoccupied.”
Swallowing the remaining sobs, I untangled my arms and swiped my hands down my face, wiping the tears away and probably smearing my mascara in the process. What the hell had I been thinking this morning when I put makeup on? Oh, yeah, I hadn’t been. At least not about anything like this happening.
“It’s okay,” I managed to get out.
“Doesn’t sound okay,” he replied, lifting his brows. “You need anything? Help?” His lips twitched, and he lifted his right arm, flexing a very impressive bicep. “Muscle?”
I could tell he was trying to make a joke, to lighten the mood, but in the face of everything else, all it did was irritate me. Even if it hadn’t, I wasn’t in the flirting mood. It wasn’t like he wasn’t attractive, because he was. Very attractive, actually. Not too tall, but not short, he was built like someone who worked out on a daily basis and he had a square jaw and strong features, and the kind of eyes that made him look brooding even when all he was doing was standing there.
“I can’t imagine a thing more worthless at a time like this,” I muttered.
“Depends on what you’re facing.” He shrugged, unconcerned that I’d blown him off. “A flat tire might change your mind.”
“If only life’s challenges were as simple as a flat tire.”
Exhaling, I worked at pulling myself together. I had a job to do. We needed a room, and then I had to give my parents a call. Just in case I was the next one to come down with symptoms. I swallowed and winced, but told myself the scratchiness in my throat was only from my crying. The runny nose was, too. That was all. I wasn’t sick.
It wasn’t easy to believe.
The guy was leaning against the Coke machine, clearly unconcerned that his attempts at talking to me had fallen flat, and I didn’t bother telling him goodbye before heading into the office.
A bell jingled when I pulled the door open, alerting whoever worked in the office that there was a customer. The lobby was small with browning wallpaper that was peeling off in places and off-white tile in desperate need of a good mopping. A man of about sixty stood behind the desk, and he studied me with bloodshot eyes as I approached. He didn’t offer a greeting or a smile, and even when I’d stopped in front of him, he didn’t utter a word.
“I need a room,” I said when he still hadn’t spoken.
It crossed my mind to ask for two—the idea of sleeping in the same room with a dying person made me physically nauseated—but I’d promised Kyle I wouldn’t leave him alone, and I couldn’t go back on that promise now. No matter what.
“It’s $69.95 a night,” the man said in a gravelly voice. “Plus tax.”
“I have cash.”
I dug through my purse then slid the money across the counter once I’d found the right amount. The man took it, making change, and he didn’t even ask for my travel papers or identi
fication before sliding the key over the counter to me. Not that I’d expected it in a place like this. He probably didn’t give a shit if the people checking in were legally allowed to travel. Until now, a place like this would have been lucky to have two rooms occupied at the same time. Now, though, they’d be full soon, if they weren’t already.
“Thanks,” I said.
He nodded in response.
The muscled man was gone when I stepped out, which I was more than thankful for. He was the only one who’d gotten to witness my breakdown, and I’d be more than happy to never see him again. Crying in public was not my thing.
Kyle had gotten worse during my short absence. He didn’t tell me, but he didn’t have to. I could hear his labored breathing when I opened the car door, could see the beads of sweat on his forehead when I slid inside. Could see his hands trembling.
I swallowed to keep my voice steady. “Room thirty-five.”
“One room?” Kiaya asked.
I looked back at her, unblinking. “Yes.”
She only nodded.
Kyle drove across the parking lot, pulling into a parking space in front of our room and turning the car off. We didn’t talk as we gathered our bags and headed for the room. Kyle had his, a black backpack, slung over his shoulder, but I could tell just the exertion of walking from the car to the motel was wearing on him. Luckily, we didn’t have far to go, and the second he made it inside he collapsed on the bed.
The room was dusty and musty, with an underlying smell of cigarette smoke that had probably soaked into the carpet and walls two decades ago. The wallpaper was out of style and yellowed, the carpet stained, and the bedspreads scratchy. I refused to let myself wonder when they’d last been cleaned. On the whole, the place was a pit, but it was all we had, and in the face of everything else, it didn’t seem very important. Which was crazy. I was a notorious hotel snob.
Kiaya and I stood at the foot of the bed, staring at Kyle in silence. I had no idea what to do next, and the expression on her face said she was as clueless as I was.
“What now?” she asked.
Far Series (Book 1): Far From Home Page 4