From what I could tell, the fifth floor was for post-operative patients. I walked the halls briskly, checking every unlocked room, even one with a mop and bucket. All the while, I called out, saying hello, asking if anyone was there. Nobody called back. Nobody said . . . yes, I’m here. I was both disappointed and relieved at the same time. Disappointed because it would have given me great pleasure to be able to find Naima’s parents—to put a big smile on her face. And yet I was relieved, because odds are if I found someone they wouldn’t be her parents, they’d be someone totally crazy. Just like the rest of us. And they’d probably want my help.
I was wrong. But only about the crazy part.
The sixth and final floor was the maternity ward. I couldn’t get past the waiting room without a magnetic keycard, so I swiped one from one of the nurses just lying around.
I was instantly glad I had said I’d take the top two floors, new mothers and their newborn babies was not a sight either of the girls needed to see. Not like this. It was awful.
There was no other way to describe it.
Just awful.
Then I came upon the nursery, and things got even worse.
I looked through the glass window just like countless people had before me, viewing the newborns in their makeshift bassinets. Thankfully, the nursery wasn’t even close to full capacity. Many of the pregnant mothers never got that far, falling ill with the infection before they could finish giving birth. For the three babies that were in the nursery, this was where they were supposed to wait until mommy was ready to take them home. Only, they’d never go home. Their short life was over before it had a chance to begin.
Except for one.
It was a baby girl wrapped tight in a pink blanket, squirming in her pen, eyes open, but not crying. I wondered how long she’d been in there—how long she had cried before figuring out no one was coming to help her.
No one but me.
The trip back down the stairs was less of a toll on my legs, even though I was carrying an extra seven or eight pounds. I hadn’t even finished searching the sixth floor for Naima’s parents. They weren’t up there, not on the maternity ward. I was sure of it. Plus, I had bigger—or smaller—things to worry about at the moment. This quiet, beautiful baby girl probably wouldn’t make it much longer if she didn’t get something in her belly. She looked weak and tired, and was powerless to do anything about it.
Peaches was already in the waiting room when I got back.
“Oh no, you’re kidding,” she said softly, seeing me with a baby cradled in my arms. “Is she . . . ?”
“No, she’s alive, but she needs formula.”
“Can I hold her?”
“Sure,” I said, handing her off. “She’s not mine.”
Peaches rocked the baby against her chest, her large breasts making for a soft cushion.
“I’m guessing you didn’t find anyone. Where is Naima? She should have been the first to get back?”
“I don’t know, Jimmy.”
I checked my watch. “Still got a few minutes.”
“You didn’t find any formula?”
“I didn’t look,” I said.
“You didn’t? Why not?”
“Cause I’m an idiot.”
Peaches smiled. “There’s got to be some.”
“Probably is. I panicked.” I looked at my watch again. “Let’s wait five more minutes for Naima, and if she doesn’t show, we’ll head back up there.”
Five minutes came and went, and there was still no sign of Naima.
“Where could she be?” I asked.
“Anywhere, really.”
“You think she could have found her parents?”
“Could have. But would she just leave without us?”
“If she really found her dad, and he was okay, she’d do whatever he told her to, I’m sure. You met him. You got a small taste of what he’s like.”
Peaches nodded, never looking up from the baby in her arms.
“Now amplify that times a thousand.”
“So she ditched us then?”
I shrugged. “Probably. Let’s just go find some formula. Maybe we can swing by her place on the way back to the bookstore.”
The second time going up the stairs actually seemed easier than the first. It must have been the wave of adrenaline pulsing through my body. Once on the sixth floor, Peaches found the formula so fast I thought she had GPS guiding her. She also grabbed some diapers. We agreed to leave the hospital before feeding the baby girl. We both needed a strong dose of fresh air and a little less creepiness.
Back at the Buick, Peaches prepared the formula and began feeding the baby. No longer consigned to the back seat, she now sat beside me. I took out Sally’s magazine and put her in the glove box. She didn’t complain. She was used to doing whatever I told her.
“I wonder what her name is,” Peaches said. “The hospital bracelet doesn’t say. It only has numbers on it.”
“Maybe you should give her a name.”
“I guess. It just doesn’t feel right, naming someone else’s baby, ya know.”
“It’s the least we could do. Right now, we’re all she has.”
“Then we’ll call her Olivia,” Peaches said. “What do you think?”
“I think Olivia has a good appetite.”
Peaches smiled, while baby Olivia ate like she’d never eaten before.
Chapter 17
After Olivia finished off the bottle of formula, we left the parking lot of the Cancer Care Center and headed back toward the bookstore. First, we’d stop by Naima’s house and make sure she got back okay. I said nothing about it to Peaches, but a part of me was afraid we’d left Naima behind at the hospital. We had agreed to meet back in the waiting room in thirty minutes. But she didn’t have a watch, so I had told her to make an educated guess. What if she had a horrible sense of time? What if she had showed up after Peaches and I went back up to the sixth floor, and then went off looking for us? I felt guilty for not waiting longer, but at the same time, Olivia needed immediate attention. Naima was a grown woman, plenty capable of taking care of herself, right?
Right?
I wanted to think positively. I wished I’d had Tony Robbins there to cheer me on. But I feared the worst. I feared we wouldn’t see Aamod’s car in the driveway. I feared that instead of finding her parents awake she’d found them both asleep. What if that was the reason she never met back up with us? What if she was so stricken with grief she completely lost it, and in this vulnerable state of mind, we’d just left her there? What a couple of assholes we’d be.
Negativity for the win!
Since we didn’t have a car seat, Peaches held the baby tight against her chest. In no time, Olivia was fast asleep. I figured the motion of the car had done the trick—at least I’d hoped it was the motion of the car. Yeah, I know it’s dangerous having someone hold a baby in the front seat. But I wasn’t too worried about getting into an accident, being one of only a few cars still moving on the road, that and my top speed rarely broke twenty-five miles per hour. I was even less worried about getting a ticket, seeing as how I’d passed numerous police cars and none of the occupants were in any shape to write tickets. So far that might have been the best thing about this crappy new world.
No.
More.
Bullshit.
Laws.
It might also turn out to be the worst thing.
When we got to Naima’s house, I parked behind Aamod’s silver Toyota in the driveway and let out a big sigh of relief. She’d found them. Thank God. We weren’t assholes after all.
“And here I’d expected the worst,” I said, glancing over at Peaches. But she wasn’t looking at me. She was looking down, watching Olivia as she slept.
“She’s so adorable, isn’t she?”
I nodded. “But what are we going to do with her?”
“We’ll take care of her for as long as we can. She deserves as much life as she can get.” She now looked over at me. “
Don’t you think?”
“I do,” I replied. “Just not always rationally.” She smiled and turned her attention back to Olivia. “Well, why don’t we get the heck out of here.” I put the car in reverse and began to back out of the driveway.
I was about ten seconds too slow.
The front door opened, and Aamod stepped out. Stared at us. I stopped backing up and stared back. He had an even more intense look in his eyes than normal. He was wearing his work clothes with his name embroidered on the shirt. I’d never seen him wear anything else.
“What’s this about?” Peaches asked.
“He probably heard us pull up.”
Aamod began to walk over. I shut off the car and got out.
“Who are you and what are you doing here?” he asked.
“I just came to make sure Naima got back okay.”
He crossed his arms. “Excuse me? I don’t follow. Got back from where?”
“From the hospital. Naima didn’t tell you about us?”
“Naima is not here. I haven’t seen her since early this morning.”
Holy motherfucking shit!
I sighed and bowed my head.
“Would you please explain yourself? Starting with how you know my daughter?”
“You don’t recognize me?”
“Not really.”
“I come into your store all the time. My name is Jimmy.”
“A lot of people come into my store. I can’t remember them all.”
“I come in almost every day.”
He studied my face for a moment. “The hot dog boy.”
“That’s me.”
“Yes. Now I remember you.”
Peaches finally came out of the car. “Is something wrong?”
“She’s not here,” I said.
“Oh no. Then she must still be back at the hospital.”
“My daughter, Naima? Why would she be at the hospital?”
“Because we went there to look for you. You see, I went to your store this morning and found her there by herself.”
“Yes. I left her there.”
“But you didn’t return.”
“I did.”
“Not soon enough. She got scared something had happened to you, so I agreed to give her a ride over here.”
“Then when we got here nobody was home,” Peaches said.
“I just came from the store.”
“We must have passed each other somewhere along the way.”
“I admit I may have taken longer to get back than I intended,” Aamod said. “Her mother, my wife, she is . . . well, she’s become infected, and I didn’t know how to break it to Naima.”
“I understand,” I said. “I considered taking my grandma to the hospital.”
Aamod frowned. “I did not take my wife to the hospital.”
“You didn’t?” Peaches asked.
“No,” Aamod said, shaking his head. “So why would you take Naima there looking for me?”
I met eyes with Peaches, wondering if she had the same sinking feeling as me.
“Jerry, your neighbor, said he’d spoke with you,” Peaches said. “He said you told him to tell Naima that you took her mom to the hospital if he saw her.”
A frightening look bloomed on Aamod’s face. It was like an atomic bomb had gone off. “What? Are you kidding?”
“So you didn’t . . .” I began, then stopped and joined the two of them in looking across the street at Jerry’s house. The car that had been under the carport earlier was no longer there.
“I haven’t spoken to Jerry in weeks.”
Holy motherfucking shit!
“That fucking bitch,” Peaches said. Good thing Olivia wasn’t old enough, or awake enough, to understand curse words. “He lied to us.”
“Peaches,” I said. “A word with you in private.”
“Not so fast. We are not done talking,” Aamod said. “You took Naima to the hospital and just left her there?”
“No, we went in with her to look for you, but then she disappeared. We figured she’d found you and left.”
Aamod began pacing in front of the car.
“Why would Jerry tell us to go to the hospital if he knew you weren’t there?” Peaches asked.
“Jerry worked at the hospital as a janitor,” Aamod said. “I’m sure he knows his way around well.”
“What are you saying?” I asked. “That she’s with him?”
Aamod stopped pacing, took a deep breath. “I told you I haven’t spoken to him in weeks. The last time I did was to tell him to stop harassing my daughter.”
“She mentioned that he had asked her out before,” Peaches said.
I nodded. “I think she said a bunch of times. But what difference does that make?”
“You don’t understand,” Aamod said. “Jerry is a convicted sex offender.”
Holy motherfucking shit!
“Oh, my God, really? She didn’t tell us that.”
“She didn’t know. I never told her. His parents took him back in after he got released from prison a few years back.” Aamod stared back across the street at Jerry’s house. He had a dead look in his eyes. “My wife gets infected and he gets to live, where is the justice in that? And now he thinks he’s going to take my daughter from me . . .”
I had no idea how to ease the tension, so I didn’t try. Peaches copied me.
“I will kill him,” Aamod said, and rushed toward Jerry’s house.
Chapter 18
Did I get Sally out of the car before following Aamod across the street?
You bet your ass I did.
“Stay here in the car,” I said to Peaches, handing her the keys. “If anyone approaches you, leave immediately. Go back to the bookstore. We don’t want to take any chances with Olivia.”
For once, Peaches didn’t argue with me.
“I feel responsible,” she said.
“How were we to know he was some weirdo?”
“Cause he looked like one.”
“Well, I never judge a book by its cover. This time I guess I should have.”
By the time I got across the street, Aamod had already begun banging on Jerry’s front door.
I ran up behind him—a gun named Sally clenched in my hand. “I don’t think he’s home. His car’s not here.”
Aamod ignored me and hustled around the side of the house. Thick curtains covered all of the windows. It was impossible to see anything inside. I decided not to follow Aamod into the backyard. Instead, I stayed on the side of the house and kept lookout just in case Jerry pulled up in his car. This also allowed me to keep my eyes on my grandma’s Buick and the precious cargo inside.
Moments later, Aamod returned from the backyard.
“If he grabbed her at the hospital,” I said, “then he’s probably still there.”
“Then I’ll go,” he said and walked away.
I rolled up next to him. “You mean we’ll go. All of us.”
“You don’t need to go. You’ve done enough already.”
I don’t think he meant that in the nicest way.
“Look, I’m sorry. There’s no way we could have known. I was just trying to help her out. In case you haven’t noticed, things are a little out of control with the world.”
Aamod turned and grabbed my arm like he wanted to rip it off. “You think I’m blind? Tell me why I should trust you.”
“What are your options . . . rush in there like a maniac? How are you gonna find him all by yourself? And even if you do, you’re gonna get yourself killed.”
“I don’t think so.”
“I do. Worse, you’re gonna get Naima killed. I consider her a friend now. Please. Let me help you.”
He let go of my arm, looked down at the gun in my hand.
“Is that gun loaded?”
“Of course it is. A wise man once told me an unloaded gun is about as useful as a pecker on a priest. Do you have a gun?”
He shook his head. “Not here. Not at the house. At the stor
e, yes.”
“The shotgun. Naima showed me.”
“She did?”
“Yeah, but we don’t have time to go there and get it. We need to leave now. I’ll drive.”
We loaded into the car, Aamod in the passenger seat, Peaches and Olivia in the back, and then headed in the direction of the hospital.
“How were you going to kill him?” I asked.
“What?”
“Without a gun,” I said. “How would you do it?”
“Oh, with my bare hands,” Aamod said, with the straightest of faces.
Just as I began to wonder how in the heck we were gonna find Jerry at the hospital, I realized we might not have to. About a hundred yards ahead, a car that looked similar to Jerry’s ran a stop sign and passed through the intersection. And it was going about twice the neighborhood speed limit.
“Somebody’s in a hurry,” I said. “That might be him.”
“How many people were in the car?” Peaches asked.
“Hard to tell. Too far away. At least one.”
She smirked. “Well, obviously, genius.”
“It looked like his car,” Aamod said. “He’s probably going back around the opposite way.”
That was enough to make me turn around.
“We can’t risk him seeing us. He sees this car, and he’s gonna run. And this car ain’t exactly high speed chase material.”
I slowed down as we came back upon Aamod’s street. We waited at the stop sign for Jerry to appear at the other end. Moments later, he turned down the block and out of view into his driveway.
I backed up and pulled the Buick up into the grass on the corner lot.
“What are you doing?” Peaches asked.
“We’re leaving the car here. We’ll go the rest of the way on foot.” I looked at Aamod. He nodded in agreement. Then back to Peaches. “Same as before. You stay here with Olivia. If anyone comes near you, get the hell out of here.”
“Okay,” she said softly.
She was scared. It showed.
I was going to ask Aamod if he was ready, but he was already out of the car.
Chapter 19
How things change.
One moment I’m working at a used bookstore, not a care in the world. My concerns—minimal. What book to read next? What to have for lunch? How many more episodes of The Walking Dead until Lori dies? How many more years until I lose my virginity? No worries, though; I’ll figure it out. I have hundreds of books on my to-read list on Goodreads. I’ve got Cuban sandwiches and hot dogs and taquitos filled with all kinds of mysterious ingredients to choose from for lunch. I just know Lori’s days are numbered. And that little virginity problem, hell, one of these days a hot girl is gonna walk through the door and ask for a new paranormal romance, and I’m gonna give it to her.
Dead Highways: Origins Page 7