Dead Highways: Origins

by Richard Brown

  When we got back to the house, Peaches took Olivia and followed me up to the front door. While we waited for someone to answer, I kept my eyes glued on Jerry’s house across the street. I had left the gun in the car, but I wouldn’t let the car out of my sight. Just in case.

  Aamod answered moments later. “Did you take care of it?”

  I nodded.

  He nodded back his approval.

  “How is Naima?” Peaches asked.

  “She will be fine. She is resting.”

  “Is there anything else we can do?”

  “No, I can take care of her. Thank you.”

  “What are your plans?”

  “I don’t know.”

  “Same as ours,” I said. “Same. As. Ours.”

  We left Aamod to tend to his family and headed back to the bookstore. I doubted that I’d ever see either of them again.

  I took back the Buick’s reins and steered us through the traffic like a pro. Still not a scratch on grandma’s car. Halfway home, a light rain began to fall. By the time we pulled up in front of the bookstore, the light rain had turned to heavy rain, and the thunder and lightning was just getting warmed up. We sat in the car waiting for it to die down, mostly for Olivia’s sake.

  “What did Aamod mean when he asked you if you took care of it?”

  “He wanted to know if I killed Jerry.”

  “And you did? You shot him, right?”

  “Yeah, I shot him in the leg.”

  “That doesn’t sound too convincing.”

  “It was all I could do.”

  Ten minutes later, the rain finally began to slow down. I stuffed Sally back in my pants and left the car. Peaches waited until I had the door unlocked and then brought baby Olivia inside. Then we headed upstairs to check on my grandma.

  Climbing the stairs, a strange feeling grew inside my gut, and it wasn’t just because I was hungry. It was the same feeling that had come on suddenly earlier in the morning, the one that had told me not to leave Peaches behind. It had come back. When we opened the door to grandma’s room, I understood why.

  Bad Moses sat in a chair next to the bed. He had a gun in his right hand pointed at my grandma’s head as she slept.

  I was struck speechless. Peaches, however, screamed so loud it woke the baby. Olivia immediately began crying.

  “Surprised to see me,” Moses said. “You shouldn’t leave the window open. You never know when a bad man might want to come inside.”

  “What are you doing here?” Peaches asked.

  Moses smiled. “Speaking of coming inside. How you been, darlin’?”

  “I ain’t your darling.”

  “But I came back here for you.”

  “Too bad I don’t need you anymore.”

  “I think you should reconsider,” he said, slurring the last word. “You think this little pipsqueak is gonna be able to take care of you?”

  “He could do no worse than you,” Peaches said.

  “That’s not nice. Where’d you get the baby?”

  Olivia had begun to settle down and stop crying.

  “None of your damn business.”

  “Now, now, no need to get angry,” said Moses.

  “What do you expect?” I said.

  “Well, look who finally decided to speak up. What do you think of my gun? Pretty nice, huh?” He pressed the end of the muzzle into my grandma’s temple. “Yours ain’t so bad either. Now go ahead and hand it over nice and slow.”

  “Why don’t you go fuck yourself,” Peaches said.

  “Shut your mouth, whore. I wasn’t talking to you.”

  I don’t think I ever wanted anything in my life as much as I wanted to take Sally out of my waistband and empty the rest of her magazine into his ugly redneck face.

  “You deaf, boy? I said hand it over to me.”

  I still felt a little deaf after firing those two shots an hour or so earlier, but I had heard him just fine. I quickly pulled my gun out and pointed it at him. “How’s this?”

  He looked at me with so much surprise I thought his head might explode. He was the schoolyard bully who wasn’t used to someone standing up to him. I had surprised myself, too.

  “You’re something else,” Moses said. “Think you’re some . . . he—ro . . . but you ain’t.” He had begun to breathe harder. Words and sentences became more and more difficult for him to spit out.

  “Are you drunk?” Peaches asked.

  Moses didn’t answer, but his eyes momentarily rolled back into his head.

  “Not drunk,” I said. “Infected.”

  “I think you’re right,” Peaches said.

  Moses began to lose the grip on his gun when there was a loud banging noise coming from downstairs that spurred him back awake. “What was that?”

  Peaches looked at me. “Jimmy?”

  “Someone is knocking on the door,” I said.

  “Who could it be?”

  “Maybe one of his friends,” I said, nodding at Moses.

  Then we heard a voice. I could just barely make it out over the slight ringing still present in my ears. “Hello, is anybody home?” The voice sounded familiar, but I couldn’t quite place it.

  “You called the . . . police,” Moses said. He was now having trouble keeping his head up. “Didn’t . . . you?”

  “There is no police,” Peaches said. “Don’t you know what’s happened?”

  “I don’t think he does, nor will it matter soon. But I think there might be at least one cop left in this wasteland.”

  Officer Robbie Robinson, one of the cops who had come the night Moses wrecked the place. I figured it out. That’s the voice. That’s who was downstairs banging on the door. The black cop who looked like Carl Winslow. He had come to return my call in person, and had impeccable timing.

  “Go get the door, Peaches,” I said.

  “No . . . you won’t,” said Moses. “Don’t . . . you . . . move.”

  “Don’t listen to him. Go,” I said.

  Peaches hurried out of the room.

  “You made . . . a mis—take.”

  “No, I think you made the mis—take.” I could see his eyes begin to roll back again—the gun slowly slipping from his grasp. “What kind of man would point a gun at a little old lady?”

  “I should have . . . should . . . have . . .”

  He was fading fast.

  “You should have what?”

  “Killed you . . . before.”

  “Too late now.”

  I was sure he didn’t have the strength to pull the trigger, even if he wanted to.

  I was wrong.

  In one last flurry of energy, he swung the gun away from my grandma and fired it in my direction. Instantly, his limp wrist folded open at the recoil and the gun fell out of his hand. I had no idea where the bullet went, but it didn’t hit me.

  He began mumbling incoherently as I picked up his gun off the floor.

  “Is it safe?” Officer Robinson yelled from the hall.

  “Yes.”

  Officer Robinson came into the room. He held a gun out in front of him, pointed at Moses. “Is he dead? Did you shoot him?”

  “No, he tried to shoot me.” I held out the attempted murder weapon. “Here’s his gun.”

  Officer Robinson took the gun and removed the magazine.

  Peaches now came into the room. “I put Olivia on your bed. Don’t worry, I closed and locked the window.”

  “Okay, good.”

  I walked over and stood beside Officer Robinson examining Moses. “He’s infected. What are we going to do with him? He can’t stay here.”

  “I’ll take him to the station and lock him in a holding cell.”

  “Sounds good to me.”

  Peaches stayed upstairs to keep an eye on Olivia, while I helped Officer Robinson carry Moses’ lifeless body downstairs and into the backseat of his squad car.

  “That’s one heavy son of a bitch,” he said.

  We both stood and watched as a car drove by a
nd stopped at the Haji-Mart across the street. It was Aamod’s silver Toyota. He and Naima got out of the car and entered the store.

  “So I got your voicemail, but service went down before I could respond. As you can imagine, I was pretty busy yesterday when the shit hit the fan. Since then, things have . . . slowed.”

  “I can tell. Do you know how many are infected?”

  “Most, and not just here. Everywhere. I know of a few other officers who weren’t infected. I tried to locate some of them, but I think they skipped town. Where the hell they went I have no idea.”

  I kept my eyes locked on the convenience store. Naima and her father were still inside. I wondered if Naima was going to tell him that she let me take some stuff in return for dropping her into the hands of a sexual predator.

  “Do you know them?” Officer Robinson asked.

  “Yeah, we’ve spent some time together.”

  “Perhaps we should have a talk with them.”

  “Sure, if you want.”

  “I’m looking to gather as many survivors together as possible. Maybe we can figure out what to do about all this, if there is anything we can do.”

  “Strength in numbers, I like that,” I said.

  “Good to hear it.”

  Aamod came out of the store and started digging through the trunk of his car.

  “How about we go over there and have a chat with them.”

  “Whatever you say, Officer.”

  “You can call me Robbie,” he said, smiling. “Or just Robinson.”

  We began walking across the street, side stepping the deeper puddles left by the rain shower. As we passed the military humvee, I noticed the engine had finally shut off.

  “I see you took my advice,” Robinson said.

  “What advice?”

  “The gun.”

  “Oh. Yeah, I had to keep it secret from my grandma. But so far it’s come in handy.”

  “Not sure how much we’ll be needing firearms anymore though, with the way the world is now. And hey, I’m sorry about your grandma.”

  “So am I,” I said. “How is your family?”

  “Don’t know. They all live out of the area. Lost all communication with them. My dog, Jax, is fine though.”

  Naima joined her father outside. She helped him carry boxes from the trunk of the car into the store. Aamod stopped when he saw us coming across the parking lot.

  “Can I help you?” he said.

  I wondered if it was an inappropriate time to ask him for a hot dog.

  “Just thought I’d come over and introduce myself,” Robinson said, extending his hand. “Robbie Robinson.”

  Aamod shook his hand. “You’re a police officer?”

  “What gave it away . . . the uniform? I guess you already know my friend here.”

  In Robinson’s eyes, we were already friends. How about that. To think it only took the world going to hell to turn me into Mr. Popular. Aamod, however, wasn’t quite sold yet on my newfound awesomeness. I saved the man’s daughter, for God’s sake, and all he had for me was a blank stare.

  I let Officer Robinson occupy Aamod while I slipped away.

  Naima saw me come into the store and ran over to give me a big hug. “Jimmy, I never got a chance to thank you.”

  “It was nothing, really. How are you? Did he hurt you?”

  Naima bowed her head. “Not much.”

  “That’s . . . good,” I said. “You sure you’re okay?”

  She raised her head and forced a smile. “Yeah.”

  “I thought you’d be mad.”

  “Mad at you?”

  “Yeah, because we left the hospital without you.”

  “That wasn’t your fault.”

  “Did your dad tell you we found a baby at the hospital?”

  “You found a baby? No, he didn’t mention it. What are you gonna do with a baby?”

  “I don’t really know yet. For now, just take care of her as best as we can. Got any diapers here?”

  “No, sorry.”

  “What did you guys come back for?”

  “My dad just wanted to get a few supplies to take back to the house.”

  “Like the shotgun,” I said. I had noticed it was missing from the counter.

  Naima nodded. “Says he’s not letting me out of his sight again.”

  “Lucky you.”

  I helped Naima fill some of the empty boxes and then carried them out to the car. Officer Robinson was leaning against the hood, writing something down on a sheet of paper for Aamod. I had hoped he was giving him a ticket for being so uptight, but it was just the address to his house.

  “If you change your mind,” Robinson said. “That’s where you’ll find me.”

  Aamod took the small sheet of paper and shoved it into his pocket. “Fine. Thank you.”

  “Jimmy, you about ready to go?”

  “Where are you going?” Naima asked.

  “Got to go to the station for something,” Robinson said.

  I was glad he chose not to elaborate further.

  “Oh, okay. Well I hope we can stay in touch somehow,” said Naima.

  “No,” Aamod said firmly, pointing an accusatory finger at me. “I don’t trust him.”

  “What? But daddy—”

  “I said no. We can take care of ourselves.”

  “Wait a minute,” said Robinson. “What did I miss?”

  “He lied to me. That’s all,” Aamod continued. “Now I don’t trust him.”

  “What did I lie to you about?” I asked.

  “Oh, I think you know. Yes, you know what you lied about.”

  It hadn’t hit me yet, what he was talking about, so I said, “No, I really don’t.”

  “You told me you took care of it. When I know you didn’t.”

  Okay, now it hit me. He must have gone back over to Jerry’s house and inspected my work.

  I frowned. “I’m sorry. I just couldn’t do it.”

  “Don’t be sorry. I took care of it. But you . . . you just stay out of my way from now on. Okay?”

  “Perhaps we should be going,” Robinson said. “I wasn’t aware you guys had some prior history.”

  “Again. Thank you for your offer, sir,” Aamod replied. “But we’ll be okay.”

  “Daddy, I think you’re being unfair to Jimmy.”

  “Get in the car, Naima. I’m through discussing it.”

  I kept my head down as Officer Robinson and I left the parking lot.

  “What was that about?”

  “Long story,” I said.

  “Okay. I won’t pry.”

  “What did you offer him?”

  “The same offer I’m gonna give you . . . to come stay at my place.”

  “Really?”

  “Yeah, if you want. Like I said before, I’d like to get as many survivors together as possible.”

  “I’d have to talk to Peaches about it, but I’m all for it. As long as you don’t mind having a baby around.”

  “Not at all. I have a decent size plot of land right outside of town. Jax and I would sure love the company. The world has suddenly become a mighty lonely place. Plus I’ve been told I make some mean barbeque ribs.”

  “Say no more. I’m sold.”

  Before heading into the bookstore, I went around the side of the building and took down the ladder Moses had used to climb through the upstairs window. Then I carried it around back and left it near the dumpster, even though it was unlikely the garbage collectors would ever come pick it up. I met back up with Officer Robinson out front. He was leaning up against his squad car, staring off into space.

  “So I suppose I’ll just follow you,” I said. “If you don’t mind, I’d like to bring as much stuff as I can, since I don’t know when and if I’ll ever be coming back.”

  “Sure, no problem. Take your time.”

  “I’d also like to eat something real fast. I haven’t had anything all day. Would you like something? We don’t have much, just some snacks, but if you
’re offering to make dinner, I figured I could at least offer you something in return.”

  “I think I’ll take you up on that,” said Robinson. “I’ll also help you pack if you’d like.”

  Upstairs, Peaches was lying down on my bed with baby Olivia.

  “We’re gonna grab a bite to eat if you want something,” I said.

  “What are you making?”

  “Stale food in individually wrapped packages.”

  Peaches sighed. “I guess.”

  We headed into the kitchen to rummage through the stuff Naima had let me hand-pick from the convenience store earlier in the morning. Officer Robinson settled on a healthy mix of chocolate and fruit-flavored candy bars. Peaches and I decided to split a big bag of potato chips and a case of French onion dip.

  “Hey, I didn’t know you got cigarettes,” Peaches said, noticing the pack that had fallen to the bottom of one of the wine boxes.

  “Oh yeah, I forgot to tell you.”

  “You got them for me?”

  “I did. As long as you don’t smoke them around the baby.”

  “No, I wouldn’t dare.”

  “How is she anyway?”

  “She’s still sleeping, but she’ll need to be fed again soon.”

  “I never knew babies slept that much,” I said.

  “At her age, they take naps all day long,” said Officer Robinson. “At least my boy did. They also eat and shit all day long, too.” He started laughing.

  “I didn’t know you had a son.”

  “Yeah, he’s eight years old. Just finishing second grade. Or was.”

  “Where is he? You said you didn’t have any family around here.”

  “He’s with his mother in New Orleans. They moved there after the divorce. She wanted to be close to her family.”

  “Wow, I’m sorry,” Peaches said. “Have you had any contact with them?”

  Robinson took a deep breath. “That’s the hardest part, you know. Not knowing what happened. I talked to them yesterday morning before the phone lines went down, and let me tell you, things were just terrible down there in New Orleans, from everything I heard. Much worse than here. But they were hanging in there, and I hope somehow they still are.”

  “I don’t know what’s become of my family either,” said Peaches. “Most are way up in Kentucky.”