I shut my eyes. This time I tried to pretend I was in a forest camping. All alone. The feeling didn’t last long.
Peaches sat down beside me. “You okay? You look out of it.”
I opened my eyes. “Maybe I am. Where’s Olivia?”
“She’s lying down.”
“Good,” I said, and shut my eyes again.
“You gonna tell me what’s wrong?”
Naima sat down on the other side of Peaches but didn’t say anything.
I could feel Peaches glaring at me, waiting for an answer. I knew she wouldn’t back down. She’d poke at me until I cracked.
“Come on.” I finally said, standing up. To Naima, “We’ll be back in a minute.”
I led Peaches out to Ted’s back porch. Way off in the distance near the edge of the tree line was the outdoorsman himself, shovel in hand, digging what would soon become Luna’s grave.
“Well . . .” Peaches said.
I told her what Diego had done.
“Why would he do that?”
I took a deep breath. “He just lost it. His fiancée was killed right in front of him. He couldn’t handle his emotions. Fuck, I don’t know.”
Peaches sighed. “He’s gonna have to learn how to control himself. Otherwise, I don’t want him around. He could be a danger to us all. What if he gets mad at one of us?”
“I know. I know. I’m gonna talk to Robinson, see what he thinks.”
“You mean . . . if he thinks Diego is a danger to the group?”
“Yeah, and if he should stay.”
“And what do you think?”
“I think maybe he should leave.” I looked out at Ted still grave digging, a big pile of dirt now next to him. “But I don’t want to make the wrong decision.”
A half hour later, we all stood in a circle around Luna’s grave, heads bowed, and waited for Diego to say his final goodbyes. He took off his wedding band and closed it in her hand. Then he sang to her in Spanish. He didn’t sound too bad, for someone with tears rolling down their face. When it was all said and sung, Ted covered her with dirt and placed a cross he’d fashioned together with some wooden boards over the gravesite.
For many minutes, there was only silence. Then one by one, we offered our condolences and sauntered back to the house. Diego stayed a while longer, kneeling by the grave.
I pulled Robinson aside and told him I didn’t think Diego should remain in the group. Robinson responded with something I did not expect.
“I’m leaving, Jimmy.”
“What? What do you mean?”
“I can’t stay here. I know this was all my idea, getting survivors together, but I want you to handle things from here on out.”
“What?”
That’s right. Just keep saying what. Soon it’ll all make sense.
“You’ll be fine without me. Ted’s got himself together. Don’t worry.”
“I don’t understand. What are you gonna do? Where are you gonna go?”
“New Orleans.”
I sighed. “New Orleans. It’s probably a disaster zone.”
Robinson shrugged. “Might be. But I gotta see if I can find my boy.”
“I don’t know what to say. I know you’d said you were thinking about it. But still I’m shocked. You really think you’re gonna be able to find him? And if you do, what if . . .”
“I’ve given it a lot of thought. If he’s infected, then I’ll deal with it. I just gotta know one way or the other. Besides, as it stands my house is a damn coffin. Everyone I worked with either fled town or became one of them. They were my family, my friends. And they’re gone now, and they’re not coming back. So I need to leave. There’s nothing for me here anymore.”
“Except us.”
“And I’m gonna miss you all,” Robinson said. “I know this isn’t easy. But it’s the way it has to be. I’m sorry if I let you down.”
“You didn’t.”
“Thanks Jimmy. I needed to hear you say that.”
“When are you gonna tell the others?”
“Right now. I just wanted you to be the first to know.”
“Well, thanks for the heads up.”
Robinson gathered everyone together in the living room and told them what he had just told me.
Everyone except Diego, of course, who was still out by Luna’s grave.
Ted was the first to respond, direct as could be. “You ain’t never gonna make it. You’ve seen the way things are now.”
“I’ve gotta try,” Robinson replied.
“New Orleans isn’t exactly close by,” Ted continued. “I’ve been through there many times. I used to live in Texas. Got some family out there.”
“I didn’t say it would be easy. But I’ve got to try.”
“Can if you want, but I think you’re making a mistake.”
“You might be right, and I’m okay with that. Obviously, it’s dangerous. That’s why I hoped maybe you could lend me a few supplies. Maybe a couple guns. Some ammo. It’ll make the trip easier.”
“Sure would, but I don’t know. I’ll have to think about that.”
“No problem.”
“Wait a minute,” I said, pointing at Jax lying down at the feet of his master. “What are you gonna do with him?”
Robinson looked down. Jax looked up at him, panting, happy, no idea what was going on.
“I’d like to take him with me, but I don’t think I can. It would make the trip much harder than it needs to be. And it’s gonna be hard enough already. Would you take care of him, Jimmy?”
What was I supposed to say? No? What was the alternative if I didn’t want to take care of Jax—to drive somewhere and let him out, let him try and survive on his own? The freaking love dog?
“I guess I could,” I said.
“We’re really gonna miss you,” Peaches said. “Thank you for all you’ve done.”
“Yes, thank you,” Naima added.
“No need to thank me. You’re all good people,” Robinson said. “I appreciate all the support you’re giving me. You won’t be forgotten.”
“And I was just starting to like you again,” Bowser said. “Not much. But a little.”
Robinson smirked. “You saved my ass a few times today. I’d say any beef I had with you is long over.”
“When are you leaving?” Aamod asked.
“I want to leave today, before it gets dark.”
I looked at my watch. 5:42 p.m.
“So I’m gonna need an answer soon about those supplies, Ted.”
“Sure thing.” Ted got up. “Come with me. Let me see what I can do.”
Robinson followed him. I followed Robinson.
Ted’s garage was nothing like most people’s garages—a catchall for random junk—his garage was loaded with supplies from corner to corner, all neatly placed and organized. Water. Flashlights. Knives. MREs. Sleeping bags. Tents. Backpacks. Maps. Crowbars. Lighters. Freezer bags. Axes. Pepper spray. Flares. Gloves. Binoculars. Handsaws. Sunscreen. Lanterns. Toolboxes. First aid kits. Light sticks. Fishing gear. And every survivalist’s most prized possession—duct tape.
These were a few of Ted’s favorite things.
“This is incredible,” I said, taking it all in. Even with such a large amount of stuff, there was still room to walk around. Unlike the rest of his house, every inch of space in the garage had been meticulously calculated in order to contain such a high volume of gear.
“Yeah, you prepare for the shit to hit the fan, knowing it may never happen, and then it does.” Ted smiled. “Funny, I had placed my bets on an economic collapse.”
“I used to think people like you were crazy,” Robinson said.
“You’re not the only one. You don’t want to know how much all this cost me. Had the shit never hit the fan, I would have been crazy. And maybe just a little stupid. But right now, I’d rather be me than a lot of people out there.”
“Especially the infected,” I said. “But just out of curiosity, how much did all this stu
ff cost?”
“Tens of thousands of dollars, easy,” Ted replied without hesitation, like he’d answered the question a million times. “And that’s not even including the guns. Or the ammo, which might be the most costly part. Of course, I built this collection over many years, but it was still a hefty insurance policy. I wish I could say I’m glad it paid off . . . but no . . . I’d trade all this to have things back the way they were . . . have my store back.”
“So where do you keep the guns?” Robinson asked.
“Oh, they’re in here,” Ted said, unlocking a large metal safe next to the door. The safe was easily seven or eight feet tall and twelve feet wide.
He had everything. All types and variants. Old and new. Anything that was legal, anyway. Hunting rifles. Tactical rifles. Revolvers. Semi-automatic shotguns. Everything. On shelves below the hanging guns were stores of ammunition. Boxes and boxes and more boxes.
Robinson looked pleased, but not shocked. As a police officer, he had no doubt seen, perhaps even handled, many of these weapons at one time or another. He took a few of the rifles off the rack and looked them over.
“What do you think you can spare?” he asked. “Not just guns, I mean. But anything.”
“Well, let’s see.” Ted stepped away and examined his supplies. For a moment, he looked lost in thought, and then he turned and said, “I got a better idea.”
Robinson carefully set an AK-47 back down on the rack. “What’s that?”
Ted briefly hesitated, and then said, “What if I come with you?”
“Come with me,” Robinson repeated. “Why would you do that?”
“Well, you said you’re going to New Orleans to look for your boy, right? I could help you get there, and then continue on into Texas. Who knows . . . maybe I could find some of my family.”
Robinson sighed. “That’s a great offer, but what about everyone else? I mean . . . not to put extra weight on your shoulders . . . but I was kind of counting on you to help them.”
“You pawning us off?” I said.
“No, I didn’t mean it like that. I’m just concerned about you all.”
“Not enough to stay.”
My mission was to spread the guilt on reeeeaaaal thick.
I thought I was doing pretty well.
Ted leaned against a box filled with rubber tubing and said, “What if the rest of them come too?”
“Too dangerous.”
“It’s dangerous here,” Ted replied.
“Shouldn’t that be our choice anyway,” I said. “I may have no good reason to go to New Orleans, but I’ve got no good reason to stay in this shit town either.”
“Don’t forget there’s a baby to think about,” Robinson said. “Gonna be hard to take care of her on the road.”
“That’s a good point,” Ted said. “I hadn’t thought about that.”
“We can manage,” I said. “Find what we need along the way. You told me not to worry. I’d say the same to you.”
“You could die,” Robinson said, looking directly at me. “You and everyone else inside.”
I shrugged. “We’re all gonna die sometime. No use worrying about it. And to tell you the truth, I’m curious where all these people are going. They’re obviously migrating somewhere west. Maybe we can figure out what the hell is going on.”
“I wouldn’t set your expectations too high, Jimmy,” Robinson said. “What you’re asking is likely beyond what we’re capable of achieving.”
“True. But you never know. Maybe we’ll stumble upon something.”
Robinson didn’t look convinced.
“How ‘bout this,” Ted said. “We ask the group. We put it to a vote. We see how many want to stay and how many want to go.”
“And then?” Robinson asked.
“Heck if I know,” Ted said. “I just think everyone should have a say in controlling their own destiny.”
Right on, freckle face!
I couldn’t have said it better myself.
Ten minutes later, it was settled. We were all going. Not surprisingly, Aamod was the one with the most reservations, but once he realized it would just be Naima and him left staying, he quickly came on board.
There was only one matter left to settle, and he was still out by Luna’s grave, unaware of the plans we had made.
Diego.
“What are we gonna do about him?” I asked.
Robinson stared out at Diego across the open field, sitting Indian style next to the cross Ted had slapped together. “Tough call.”
“Is it? I think he should go. Or, I should say, I think we should go without him.”
“I agree,” Peaches said. “If what you said is true, I don’t know if we can trust him to keep it together.”
“He’s a liability,” I added.
Robinson nodded and looked back at the others standing behind us, many of whom still had no idea what Diego had done. “Fine. Let’s go.”
The three of us walked across the field in silence toward Diego. He didn’t look up from Luna’s grave until we were right upon him.
“Hey,” he said.
“Hey,” Robinson said back. “How ya doing?”
“How do you think I’m doing?”
By the sound of his tone, not too good.
“Well, I hate to interrupt you. But we need to talk.”
“Talk about what?”
Robinson took a deep breath. “We’re leaving.”
“Why? Where are we going?”
“It’s not important.”
“You aren’t gonna tell me where we’re going?”
“No, because you’re not going with us.”
Diego frowned. “What do you mean?”
“I mean we’re leaving you behind. Some people in the group think you can’t be trusted.”
Diego stood up and brushed the dirt and weeds off his pants. “Who? Why?”
“Why do you think?” Robinson took another deep breath. This clearly wasn’t easy for him. “You killed that boy, Diego. You went . . . crazy. And I understand you just lost someone you loved . . . I get it . . . but try to see it from our perspective.”
“No,” Diego said, shaking his head. “This is bullshit. I made a mistake. And now you’re just gonna leave me behind.”
“You didn’t just make a mistake,” Peaches said. “You killed someone. Someone like us.”
“What do you know? You weren’t even there.”
“Diego,” Robinson said slowly. “We don’t kill people we don’t have to. It’s one thing if it’s in self-defense, but what you did . . . there is no defense for that.”
Diego looked down at Luna’s grave, started breathing heavily, and then looked back up at Robinson. “Fuck you, man,” he finally said, anger in his voice. “This is all your goddamn fault.”
“Excuse me?”
“You heard me!”
“What’s my fault?”
“This!” Diego yelled, pointing down at Luna’s grave. “She’s dead because of you! My child is dead because of you!”
“That’s not fair,” I said.
“Of course it’s not fair, but it’s the truth. If he hadn’t fucking hit me with his car, I wouldn’t even be here right now. And she’d still be alive.”
Robinson lowered his head.
Diego was much better than me at laying on the guilt.
It was also completely uncalled for, and hurtful.
“Diego, stop,” I said. “If anything it’s my fault. If you’re gonna blame anyone, then blame me. I was the one that wrecked the car. I was the one that put us in that situation.”
“At least you tried to avoid that guy in the road,” Diego replied. “Can’t say the same for him.”
“Jesus, would you stop already,” I said, raising my voice.
“If I hadn’t had this fucking bad leg, maybe I could have saved her.” Again he looked down at Luna’s grave, still breathing heavy, crying. “I could have saved you, baby.”
And with that, Robinson li
fted his head and walked away.
Peaches gave me a glance I couldn’t quite figure out the meaning of, and then followed Robinson back to the porch.
“You shouldn’t have done that,” I said. “He’s been trying to make amends for hitting you. And you treat him that way?”
“I forgave him. I really did. Why can’t you guys forgive me?”
“It’s different.”
“Whatever. Just leave me alone then. That’s what you want, after all.”
I met back up with Peaches on the back porch.
“Where’d he go?” I asked.
“Out front,” Peaches said. “Said he needed a moment to think.”
I began to walk away.
“Alone, Jimmy.”
I ignored her and marched through the house and out the front door to the driveway, where Robinson was sitting on the hood of his car.
“You all right?”
“Yeah.”
“Forget him,” I said. “Soon enough we’ll be gone.”
“I think maybe he should come with us.”
“What? Are you serious? Didn’t you just hear that tirade he went on? The guy isn’t right.”
“Sure. But we shouldn’t leave him.”
I sighed, extra-loudly so Robinson could hear my indignation. “You’re not feeling guilty, are you? It wasn’t your fault.”
“I do feel guilty. But not for that. I feel guilty for wanting to leave him behind.”
“Then get over it.”
“If we leave him, he’s a goner, Jimmy. He’ll never make it by himself, not in the state of mind he’s in.”
“We can’t do anything about that.”
“We can take him along. Try and help him.”
“I think that’s a mistake.”
“It might be. But a smart kid once told me we all deserved a second chance. Well, I think he was right. I think we do deserve a second chance. All of us, including Diego.” He got down from the hood of the car. “The kid that told me that was you, Jimmy.”
Dead Highways: Origins Page 21