“I know. But once I get to sleep, it’s hard to get back up. So I thought I’d come out and give you some company for the last quarter.”
“Cool. I appreciate that. I won’t lie, I was starting to doze off a bit.”
Robinson shrugged. “Feels pretty safe out here right now.”
“Haven’t seen or heard a thing,” I replied. “Is everyone else asleep now?”
“I think so. Not sure about the three upstairs. But Ted and Bowser are passed out.”
“Who has guard after you?”
“Bowser and then Ted…so it’s good that they’re both getting some rest now.”
Robinson leaned back against the wall, glanced down at me. “So I wanted to come to you before we had our group chat tomorrow morning. Get your thoughts on what you think we should do. There’s a lot of strong personalities in there and I don’t want your voice getting lost.”
“Hmm. I don’t know. I kind of like your idea about finding a place in the country far away from any major highways. Wait this thing out. Like Peaches said, maybe the infected will eventually die off. We just have to be patient and stay alive long enough to find out.”
“I thought maybe you’d want to go back home.”
“We could do that too. If that’s what everyone decides, I won’t complain. But all that really matters to me is that we stick together.”
“Okay, that works,” Robinson said. “I just didn’t know if you had any special attachment to the area. I had my house, but as you know, it was destroyed. Don’t see much of a reason to go back there now.”
Images of the used bookstore, my old home, flashed through my head. I could see my grandma sitting at the counter, alive and happy, sorting through new books. The sweetest lady in the world. She had always been so proud of me, even though I gave her little reason to be. She would introduce me to people like I was the greatest person in the world—like I’d accomplished something special. I never graduated from college, played sports, or wrote books. All I’d done to be special in her eyes was be her grandson—keep her company in her final days because Grandpa George wasn’t around anymore to do it. Just like how she’d raised me from a baby after my mother left. We took care of each other. And now, after all I’d been through since the virus swept into town, all the things I’d done, all the people I’d saved, all the tough choices I’d made, I hoped her spirit was smiling down on me from wherever she was, proud as ever of her twenty-two-year-old grandson—at the man I was becoming. And I hoped she knew it was all because of her.
“You’re my family now,” I finally said. “And home is wherever we want it to be, right?”
“You’re a strong kid, Jimmy. Stronger than you realize.”
I smirked. “Thanks, you’re not so bad yourself.”
Robinson didn’t smile; I would have been able to see his white teeth in the dark. Instead, he bowed his head and said, “I wasn’t too strong today.”
“You had one moment of weakness.”
“I feel like I let everyone down, you in particular.”
“You didn’t.”
“I knew you’d say that, but I want you to trust me. I want you to know that I’m here for you…that I won’t fall apart on you when you need me. I really appreciate what you said to me today, about how you saw me as a father figure.”
“I meant it.”
“I promise I won’t forget. And I’ll try to do a better job.”
“You don’t have to be perfect. Just be you. That’s all.”
“I think we’re gonna be okay.”
The words hung in the quiet night air, settled deep in my thoughts. Were we gonna be okay? Everything about the new world rejected optimism. It wanted you miserable. It wanted you dead. It fed off your pain. But seeing a man who had just lost his son express hope and positivity about the future told me that maybe there was a chance. Maybe we really were gonna be okay.
Someday.
Somewhere.
Somehow.
Okay.
I yawned, checked my watch. 9:01. One minute of overtime.
Robinson said, “My shift now. Go get some rest.” I got up, letting him have the rocking chair. He handed me Sally. “Don’t forget your gun.”
I tucked Sally back in her holster, turned away, and then carefully opened the front door to not wake Bowser or Ted in the living room. I was halfway in the house when Robinson pulled me back out with words.
“I thought about your question,” he said, staring out toward the street, lightly rocking back and forth in the chair.
I slipped back outside. “What question?”
“This morning you asked me what was the worst thing I’d ever seen as a police officer. I have an answer. To be honest, I didn’t really have to think much about it.”
I remembered asking the question, though at the time I thought Robinson had not heard me. Apparently, I was wrong. I shut the screen door, leaving the main door open, and settled in next to Robinson.
“You don’t have to tell me,” I said.
“I want to tell you.”
“Okay.”
“It was late, near midnight, and I was working the night shift. I was just driving around, killing time really, when a call came in over the radio. This child couldn’t have been more than six-years-old, called 911, said his mom and dad had started arguing. Dad was threatening to kill the both of them. The call was short, cut off once the father realized the kid had called the police. So I get the address and I speed on over to the house. Another officer shows up around the same time. We bang on the door but nobody answers, so we force our way in. A man is yelling in the back bedroom. I can hear someone else sobbing. I take this as a sign we made it on time.”
Robinson stops talking, shuts his eyes, inhales deeply. Finally, he opens his eyes back up and continues the story.
“The dad knew we were in the house. He had locked the bedroom door. The woman on the other side started to scream between the sobs. Scream for help. The dude wouldn’t respond to us, wouldn’t open the door, so we had to break in. He was the first thing I saw when we entered, standing across the room, revolver in his hand pointing at us. I had my gun trained on him, told him to drop his weapon. He yelled back but I can’t remember what he said. Everything was a blur. I was sure he was gonna shoot me. Then he put the gun in his mouth and blew his brains out on the back wall.”
“He shot himself in front of you,” I said. “Man that’s horrible.”
“That’s not the worst of it,” Robinson replied. “Balled-up tight in the other corner of the room was his wife…his ex wife I’d learn later. At first, I didn’t realize what was in her hands. I didn’t want to believe it. She had…” Robinson drew back in the chair, cleared his throat. “She had a bloody head in her hands. Her son’s head. She was looking down at his face, caressing it with her hands, sobbing so hard. Tears streamed down her face. My God was she sobbing. And trembling. The boy’s body lay a few feet in front of her.”
“Oh my God,” I said, searching for better words. “He decapitated his son? Why…why would he do that?”
“He and his ex were going through a long, bitter divorce. A custody battle on top of that. The proceedings weren’t going his way to say the least, and he was angry and wanted revenge. He came to the house that night and got it.”
“How evil do you have to be to kill your own kid? I’m surprised he didn’t kill the wife too.”
“That was part of the plan, I think. He made her watch as he killed their boy in front of her. He purposely left her alive so she’d have to live with the memory. But she didn’t for long. Not two weeks later, before we’d even finished the investigation, I get word she committed suicide.”
“I…I don’t know what to say.”
“What can you say about that anyway? He’s dead. His son is dead. His wife is dead. The officer on the scene that night…guy named Rodriguez…he’s probably dead now too. They’re all dead and I’m still here. I’m the only one left living with the memory of th
at night, and it’s something that will stay with me until I join them in the ground. That’s the worst thing I’ve ever seen. I’ll never forget the sound of that woman’s sobbing. I can hear it even now. So unbelievably sad.”
The story was more gruesome than I ever imagined it would be, and now I had to follow it up by going to bed.
Awesome.
Chapter 103
Peaches was still awake when I made it to the bedroom upstairs. She was sitting up in bed, two pillows stuffed behind her back.
“Were you waiting for me?”
“Sort of.”
I tensed up, suddenly wondering if she wanted to repeat what we did the other night. Maybe more. We both needed a bath. Plus I wasn’t sure if I could do that right after listening to Robinson’s horror story.
Oh please, who am I kidding? Of course I could do it. But that wasn’t why she had stayed up anyway.
I stripped down to my underwear and nestled in next to her on the bed. “What’s wrong?”
“Nothing,” she said softly, shrugging. I knew her well enough to know that when she said nothing was wrong, she actually meant the exact opposite. Damn woman, say what you mean. In this case, I had a pretty good idea what she wanted to talk about. It would just take a little delicate prodding to get it out of her.
“Long day, huh,” I said.
“Very long,” she whispered. “And scary. We came close today.”
“Close?”
“To dying.”
I nodded. “Sure. There were a few moments I thought we were done. You did good though. You held yourself together well. I was proud of you.”
“Yeah, I was proud of you too. You got us out of that house. And I’m sorry if I was kind of distant today. I didn’t mean to shut you off like I did.”
“It’s okay, I’m used to being ignored by women.”
She smiled. “Oh, stop. Maybe other women but not me.”
“I know you had a lot on your mind.”
Her smile went away as fast as it had come. “I was real mad at you this morning.”
“I probably deserved it.”
She shook her head. “You didn’t though. You were right about giving up Olivia.”
Here we go. The main event.
Showtime!
“But I was wrong. I was gonna keep her with us. You reversed my decision, remember?”
“You were only gonna keep her because of me. Not because you thought it was a good idea.”
“I can’t confirm or deny that.”
“You don’t have to. I know you, Jimmy. Despite all the corny jokes, you’re not an idiot. You’re actually much smarter than you give yourself credit for. You’re also a real genuine person, which is why I like you so much. As you can imagine, I haven’t been with many decent guys in the past. Years ago, I would have never given a guy like you a second look, no idea what I was missing.”
“I don’t give myself second looks either.”
Peaches smiled again. “There you go with the corny jokes. But seriously, what I’m trying to say is…I’m sorry I was mad at you this morning. I wanted to keep Olivia, even as I was giving her up. It killed me inside to watch her leave with Cathy. And I hated you for not fighting hard to keep her. I hated that you pushed us to come here. But I was only thinking about myself. I wasn’t thinking about your feelings, and I certainly wasn’t thinking about what was best for Olivia.” Her eyes began to fill with tears. “As the day went on, I felt guilty for being mad at you, because if Olivia had stayed with us, there’s a good chance she would be dead right now. And I’m so glad that didn’t happen. You think I’m a mess now…”
I put my arm around Peaches. “It was a tough decision, and I don’t know for sure if we made the right one or not. There are no guarantees in life. But I think we had the right intentions, and I really believe Cathy and Brian will take good care of her.”
“I hope so,” Peaches said, rubbing her eyes. “I hope they made it back to Florida okay.”
“I’m sure they did. Brian was a smart guy. And don’t forget, Olivia has Jax to protect her.”
“Oh yeah, the love dog.” Peaches let loose a half-happy, half-sad smile, continuing to wipe her eyes dry. “I feel so bad for Robinson. He basically lost his son today, and I’m sitting here crying over a baby that wasn’t even mine.”
“It doesn’t matter. You loved her. We all did. You have every right to be upset.”
“I just feel so thankful to have you in my life now, Jimmy. It sounds weird to say with the world all fucked up like it is, but I feel like I’ve gotten one last chance at love. To make up for all the dumb decisions I made in the past. And now…”
“What?”
“Now I’m scared I’m gonna lose it all. I’m scared I’m gonna lose you.”
I pulled her closer, kissed her on the forehead. “You’re not gonna lose me. I’m gonna be around for a long time. We both are.”
“You promise?” she whispered.
“Yeah, I promise.”
Moments later, she gently faded off to sleep. I sat up in bed next to her thinking about the promise I had made—the promise I knew I’d never be able to keep.
We weren’t going to live a long time. Not me. Not her. None of us. Not even superhero Ted. We could keep lying to ourselves, as I had lied to her. We could keep going, fighting our way through each day, survive another round, but eventually we’d be picked off one by one. Even if we could find a place in the country to lay low, that would just buy us a little time—delay the inevitable. We’d still be dead before the end of the year, our memories carried away like dust in the wind. I knew it in my heart. I could feel it coming. The timer that began weeks ago was quickly approaching zero, and there was nothing we could do to stop it.
So much for optimism. My attitude toward the future waxed and waned by the minute. My mind was more conflicted than a priest with a raging hard-on.
When my thoughts finally slowed down, I fell asleep.
I woke back up a short time later after hearing a noise in the upstairs hall. My eyes popped open and I felt instantly awake, though I couldn’t have been sleeping for long. Due to the house being eighty something degrees inside, Peaches and I had fallen asleep on the covers and not under them. Yet, somehow, a sheet now lay on top of me. I wondered if Robinson had come in after his guard shift and placed it over us.
How cute. He’d tucked us in. Two grown adults.
The house didn’t even feel that hot anymore. Perhaps the air outside had cooled to a reasonable temperature. Opening the bedroom window earlier was really paying off.
Only.
The window was closed.
Must have been Robinson’s work again, though it was strange that he would have made his way upstairs when his bedroom was on the first floor.
I lay in the dark listening to the strange sound outside in the hall. Must be Robinson heading back downstairs. That was probably it. He’d tried to be quiet but had woken me upon leaving the room. Poor guy, I couldn’t be mad at him.
Only.
The staircase was on the other end of the hall, and the sound seemed to be getting louder. Must be Naima going to use the bathroom across the hall. God knows she’d already spent a ton of time in the bathroom today puking. How much more did she have left to get out?
Only.
It didn’t sound like someone walking.
Or talking.
Or puking.
I listened, tried to pinpoint it.
It kind of sounded like…
Scratching?
Yes, that was it, like a rat or some other small animal scratching against wood. Just what I needed to get back asleep, the thought of rats hanging out in the walls. Not like I could get to sleep with that noise anyway. It was almost as bad as Robinson’s snoring.
I slowly pushed the covers off me and swung my legs out of bed, careful not to wake Peaches. I tiptoed across the hardwood floor—put my ear to the bedroom door.
Definitely scratching. Fucking rat wa
s probably out in the hall trying to gnaw through the door. It sounded like a big boy too, probably the size of a cat.
Someone was playing tricks on me. Any minute Ashton Kutcher would jump out wearing his bellbottoms from That ‘70s Show and tell me I’d been Punk’d.
I cracked open the door, expecting to hear the pitter-patter of a rat scurrying off down the hall. Instead, I heard nothing. The scratching sound stopped completely.
Weird.
This whole thing was weird.
I swung the door all the way open and looked both ways down the hall. No rat. No person. Nothing but quiet darkness looking back at me.
Crazy.
I was going crazy.
It had been a long day and I just needed sleep. I almost had the door closed, ready to put this madness behind me, when the scratching sound returned. I was now sure it was coming from the bathroom directly across the hall.
“Somebody in there?” I whispered.
Sure someone was in there—someone with four little legs and a long hairless tail.
Templeton?
Nicodemus?
Master Splinter?
Had to be one of them.
“Is somebody in there?” I asked again, louder this time.
The scratching increased in intensity, and as the blood left my face, I realized it wasn’t a rat. It was a zombie.
A zombie was trapped in the bathroom.
But how did it get in there? I had used the bathroom before bed, and though I was tired and still feeling disturbed by Robinson’s story, I’m certain I would have remembered seeing a walking corpse in there.
I reached to my side for my knife but it was gone. I looked down, felt around. The sheath wasn’t even attached to my pants anymore. What the…? Had I taken it off my belt loop? Had it slipped off somewhere? Had I left it in the back of the truck? No idea. Oh well, at least I still had Sally. I could always depend on her.
I stepped out of the room and put my free hand on the cold brass bathroom door handle.
The scratching stopped again.
I started to turn the handle and then backed off. What in the hell was I doing? If there really was a zombie in the bathroom, I needed to wake the others and let them know. I was sure they’d be just as confused as me. They’d ask, how did a zombie all of a sudden end up in the upstairs bathroom? Did it swim up through the toilet? Did it teleport in from the Starship Enterprise?
Dead Highways (Book 3): Discord Page 13