J. G. Andrews

by Dead Road 02

  “I am looking forward to this,” Mark said as he walked down the hallway, Alex in tow.

  Karen and Natalie stepped out from the room they had chosen, falling in step behind the two boys. “I know, I can stand snack food for only so long,” Natalie replied.

  They had all paired off, choosing rooms to share. Mark and Alex, Karen and Natalie, and finally Hiroshi and Amy had taken the three available bedrooms that Ben’s house had, while Darian and had volunteered himself and John to sleep on the couches by the fireplace. “It’ll be like when we were kids, having a sleepover,” he had said.

  When the four arrived in the dining room, they noticed the long table, set with eight plates and chairs, three on each side and two on the ends. Bowls of ripe corn, string beans and mashed potatoes sat in the center. A full chicken, cooked to perfection sat on a platter and for the first time, the house smelled pleasant. Their stomachs growled in unison as the scent invaded their nostrils. Darian and Ben were already there, seated and waiting for everyone else.

  “Wow!” Alex gasped, eyes widening and threatening to engulf his entire face. He hurried to take a seat, leaving Mark in his dust.

  Amy and Hiroshi, the former smiling happily, though it had a feel of fake at its corners, entered the room. “This looks wonderful, Ben,” she praised, clapping her hands together.

  Hiroshi nodded in agreement. “Yes, thank you very much for this. It’s far more than we ever expected.”

  “Yeah, especially after he pulled a gun on us just this morning,” Darian said. He watched as everyone took a seat, and his eyes narrowed. “Where’s John?”

  Ben was lifting a knife, tilting it toward the chicken. He frowned at the question, knowing he was the only one that could answer it. The tip slid into the back of the cooked bird and he sighed.

  Chapter 10

  SNAPPING Buttercup’s reigns, John urged her to gallop faster. She was a brown and white mare, strong in her flanks, her strides long and powerful. Her hooves clacked raucously over the pavement as she dashed around stopped cars on Pacheco Pass. They had left the farm over five hours earlier, blowing past the reservoir, but still a long way from reaching the San Alito.

  Buttercup neighed, rearing her head in protest and John obliged, slowing her gallop to a slower trot. He reached down and patted her neck. “Sorry, girl, I know this isn’t good for you, but I need to make this fast,” he said and guided her off of the highway and on a dry, grass hill that ran beside it. A brown sack was strapped around John’s chest, hanging off his back. Tied to it was one of the aluminum bats. “We’ll travel like this for a bit.”

  She snorted, rocking her head side to side, content with the new travel arrangements.

  *****

  “What the hell!” Darian shouted, slammed a fist on the table, the plates hopping noisily.

  “Why would he leave?” Natalie demanded, gripping the table’s edge. “What the hell is he thinking?”

  “Calm down now,” Ben said, raising his hands to try to settle the group.

  “He’s going to get himself killed!” Darian was standing, ignoring Ben’s call for peace. “And you helped him!”

  “Sit down!” Ben barked, his mustache bristling. “It was his decision and he made it on his own, son, and you need to respect him for that. If he comes back, he comes back. There’s nothing you can do about it now, he left a good five hours ago.”

  “Why didn’t he tell us himself?” Karen asked, having taken off her glasses to rub her eyelids. “Why just leave?”

  “Probably because he knew we’d react like this,” Amy responded. “So sit down, Darian, so we can think this over like rational people.”

  “You’re not my boss right now, Amy,” he retorted. “John’s gone to get himself killed and we’ve all been sitting around like jackasses while he’s out there, riding farmer Ben’s horse to his death! Whether we’d like to admit it or not, John’s a rock for this group. If all this,” Darian gestured around him, indicating the world outside, continues, we’re going to need him. I’m going after him.”

  Hiroshi rose from his chair, softly setting his palms on the table. “I’m going to say something and you’re going to listen and keep your mouth shut while I do. John has made his choice, and while he played a major part in getting us out here alive, it’s not our responsibility to worry about him or try to bring him back. I know some of you are scared you’ll probably never see him again, but I believe that won’t be the case. You’ve known John your entire life, and yet I’ve seen what he’s capable of in one day and can say that he won’t stop until he comes back here in one piece. While you may believe that John is so important to this group, you are as well, Darian, as much as I hate to admit it. We need you here right now, not off chasing John. Now let’s sit down and enjoy this dinner that our host has so graciously prepared for us.” He retook his seat and grabbed his napkin off the table, tossing it over his lap.

  Darian sank back into his chair, shoulders slumped in defeat. He planted his head in his hands, elbows resting on the table. Everyone else stayed silent, waiting.

  “Can we eat?” Alex asked, breaking the hush.

  Bang!

  Slamming his hands on the table again, Darian stood abruptly, knocking his chair over. “I’ll be outside.”

  *****

  Buttercup trotted calmly over the road as it lead into the outskirts of Gilroy. The persuasive smell of garlic and smoke filled the air and it made John’s stomach rumble. He bent to the side, reaching into a pouch that hung at the mare’s side, pulling a candy bar from its contents. He quickly bit into it, tearing off a large chunk.

  As he chewed, he said, “Alright, girl, we’re gonna have to start going fast soon. We can’t be moving through Gilroy this slow.” A little in the distance John could see the roofs of a couple of homes, and a lone man stumbling down the road in his direction. The sun was just beginning to hide behind the hills in the west, the day coming to an end, taking its light with it. His side was throbbing, the constant up and down of Buttercup’s steps aggravating his wound.

  A tower of smoke billowed into the sky from Gilroy’s downtown. Someone had started a fire and let it get out of control, he figured. He briefly considered going to the source, but decided it would not be the safest place he could be. The smoke would probably attract the sick’s attention, rather than repulse them.

  Buttercup neighed in protest as they drew closer to the man, her eyes widening, her nose snorting in disgust. Her legs worked in reverse and against John’s urgings to keep moving forward.

  “Come on, Buttercup, you’re faster than him. We’ll just go around,” John encouraged, trying to settle the frightened mare. “God, if this is how you react to just one.”

  A gurgled moan from behind notified him of a woman who had snuck up on his rear. She was wearing a white nightgown, a bloody trail splattered down the front. One of her outstretched arms had a chunk of flesh missing, a bite wound, John realized.

  Buttercup bucked, whining in fright and John held on tight as the mare twisted and retreated on her hind legs. He tried again to settle her, pulling on her reins. She dropped back to all four hooves and John dug his heels into her sides, making her leap into action. “Come on! Yah!”

  With every gallop Buttercup gained confidence in her stride and the two blew past the man who had initially spooked her. The man slowly turned as the horse and rider passed, groaning as John and Buttercup were suddenly out of reach.

  Minutes later, John and Buttercup came upon the green sign, pointing the way to Gilroy and San Jose. He turned the horse, steering her in that direction. “You’re gonna have to get a lot braver, girl,” he stated, giving her a hard pat on the neck.

  *****

  Darian leaned on the fence in the same spot John had only hours before. He glared across the yard, angry thoughts about his best friend running through his head. A shuddering, frustrated sigh and his hands gripped the wood tightly, turning his knuckles white. “Idiot, asshole, jackass,” he muttered to
himself. How could John have left without him or without even telling him?

  “How’re you doing, Darian?” Karen asked, walking up from behind. Her arms wrapped around her body, the evening chill settling in. Her red hair was tied in a short tail.

  “Pissed.”

  “Well, yeah, I think everyone knows that,” she replied, standing next to her fellow teacher. “I’m just worried about you doing something stupid.”

  “But I’m good at stupid,” Darian mumbled.

  “John’s already doing something stupid and as teachers we all know, stupid plus stupid doesn’t equal smart.” Karen’s green eyes peered at Darian through her glasses, trying to read his face. “We need you here, as much as you may not want to be here and out there helping John, all of us need your help.”

  “I’ve known that idiot since grade school and he runs off like this without even saying goodbye. How the hell is that right, huh? How can he do that? Just abandon me like this.” He shook his head in disgust. “Eighteen years and now he’s just gone, probably will never see him again.” A hard kick to the fence and Darian stepped back, wincing and shaking his foot. “Damnit!”

  “You alright?” Karen asked, frowning and glancing at his foot.

  “I’ll live.” Darian looked to the corn field. “You’re the math teacher, what’s the likelihood of John making it back?”

  “Do you want the sugar coated answer or the truth?”

  He shrugged.

  Karen removed her glasses, cleaning them on her shirt. “Well, while Hiroshi seems to have more faith than anyone. . . the odds aren’t in John’s favor. He’s heading toward tens of thousands of sick people all by himself, armed with nothing but a bat.”

  Darian gritted his teeth, grinding his aching foot into the gravel driveway. He watched as the last vestige of the day’s sun vanished behind the horizon. “Yeah, that’s what I figured.”

  *****

  Amy entered the bedroom that she and Hiroshi had taken. There was a queen size bed with brown and green sheets, a ram’s head positioned on the wall above it. It was quaint and comfortable, and she had decided that it was definitely a guest bedroom.

  Her husband was sitting on the bed, hands in his lap. The bundle he had carried on his back now lay at his side, untouched.

  Sitting beside him, Amy put an arm over his shoulders, resting her head in the crook of his neck. “We raised them well.”

  Hiroshi hummed in agreement, an arm snaking around his wife’s back.

  “If they didn’t get sick, I’m sure they’re out there, okay, probably worrying just as much about us as we are them.”

  There was a loud gasp, Hiroshi trying to contain his emotions as they threatened to boil over. “What is a father without his children? All I can do is think about them, worry about them. Every second my mind isn’t distracted they’re in my head.”

  “Look at John and Darian, how they’re handling all this,” Amy said. “Our boys are around their age and are a lot smarter.” She smiled at her joke, but it fell quickly. “I’m sure they’re out there right now, staying alive, for us. So we need to stay alive for them and not give up hope of seeing them again. And while you may think you’re nothing without your sons, you’re still my husband, and that makes you very important to me.”

  She leaned in and kissed him hard, silencing any response.

  *****

  Natalie lay awake in her bed, staring blankly at the ceiling. She wondered if any of it had peeled off in the time she had spent watching it, as it had felt like days, instead of hours. In the other twin bed was Karen, her glasses off, red hair splayed out across her pillow. Natalie couldn’t tell if she was sleeping and didn’t really care.

  Her mind was racing, trying to process everything since the last time she had tucked herself into a bed. Her own bed, at her own home, with her parents in the other room. She dreaded the thought of waking up again and finding everyone sick, Karen hovering over her, ready to eat. Instead she let her mind drift to John, and what he was doing, where he might be, and it made her mad.

  He had abandoned them. Without a single reason or goodbye, he had left them with a man they’d just met that morning. Out of all the people in their group, though she loathed admitting it, John was the one Natalie trusted the most and now he’d broken that. How could she put her faith in someone who would run off the moment everything seemed safe? Did he even care that he had left them?

  She wished her father were here. He would have never left her; he would have always been there. Now both he and John were gone, but her father had no choice. John made his.

  The teenager clutched her bed sheets to her chest, feeling her resentment build up inside her. She twisted and rolled over, trying to force the frustration out of her thoughts, but it only made her hot, and she swept the covers off her body, relishing the cool night air. It tingled against her skin, but her head still burned.

  A day ago she had been a simple student at the community college, working on the beginning of a fashion degree. Her parents had given her grief for her choice, and she had lied to her friends about it, not wanting them to tease her for it. She knew it was cliché for a teenage girl, but she felt her best skill was with needle and thread. It was the career she had wanted to pursue. That choice probably no longer existed. Who needed fashion in a world filled with sick and dead?

  In the stillness of the night, it began quietly, but Natalie could hear it. Faintly, through the wall, someone was crying, a soft sobbing that made her throat swell. She couldn’t tell who it was, but it was there and it made her eyes sting as her own tears tried to escape. Rolling over to face away from Karen, Natalie finally let the first sob emerge from her lips.

  *****

  John slumped over Buttercup, eyelids heavy. The long day had drained his body and mind, but he couldn’t sleep. He was close, only eleven miles from San Alito, riding on a grassy hill alongside the highway. If he fell asleep, he knew it wouldn’t end well. Buttercup would wander, they would get lost, or a sick person would find him. His breathing slowed and became heavier as his exhaustion grew. He could hear each exhale, beating white noise to his ears.

  He forced himself to sit up straight, eyes widening. His hand swept into his face, slapping his cheek in the hopes of keeping himself awake. The mare’s pace was slow and he could tell she was weary as well.

  “Can’t sleep, not yet, can’t sleep,” he mumbled to himself, but he felt his shoulders’ weight pushing him down. His eyes closed. “Alright, I’ll just rest my eyes. Just rest my. . . eyes. . .” His head drooped, chin bumping his chest.

  Buttercup continued her lazy gait, unaware that her rider had fallen sound asleep.

  *****

  Ben strode down the hallway leading to his room, the balls of his feet pushing into the plush carpet and silencing his footsteps. From the other side of the doors he passed, he heard the muted and muffled crying and shook his head in clear disappointment. These people were frail and weak-minded. He had little doubt that they would cause problems in the near future, but he’d deal with that when the time came. This was his home and he wasn’t about to let these strangers ruin it.

  He stepped up to his bedroom and pulled out a ring of keys. Finding the one he was looking for, Ben stuck it in the door and unlocked it. He pushed it open a crack, slipped inside, and shut it quietly. Glancing around the room for anything out of the ordinary, the old farmer smiled.

  “Sorry I’ve been out all day, honey, been busy with some people who showed up,” he said.

  Silence.

  “I know we agreed to that, but I couldn’t just send them away, there’s a kid with ‘em.”

  Another pause.

  “Yes, honey, any sign of trouble and they’re gone. I promise. I already got rid of one of ‘em.”

  Chapter 11

  HIROSHI rolled out of the bed that he and his wife had shared the night before. The morning sun was creeping through the window and shining across the floor. He quietly pulled his pants on so as not
to wake his sleeping wife. Groaning under his breath, he rubbed his eyes hard with the palms of his hands before sneaking from the room.

  As he stepped into the hallway, he was struck by the odor, stronger than the day before and wrinkled his nose in disgust. He walked into the living room, the back of his hand guarding his nostrils as he adjusted to the smell. A glance around the room found Darian sitting up on the couch, head in his hands.

  “Whitaker,” Hiroshi said, catching the younger man’s attention. He moved around the couches and took a seat on one opposite to Darian.

  Sighing, Darian rubbed the tiredness from his face. “Yamate,” he returned casually.

  “May we speak plainly, Whitaker?”

  “Can you do that?”

  Exhaling his annoyance, Hiroshi gave Darian a patronizing smile. “It’s been known to happen from time to time,” he said.

  “Well then, hit me with it, you old samurai,” Darian replied, grinning back just as belittling.

  “As exasperating and unmanageable as you are and always will be, I need you to promise me something.”

  “This is what you call speaking ‘plainly’?”

  “Promise me, Darian.” For the first time, Hiroshi had used the English teacher’s first name, and it caught the younger man off guard.

  “Promise you what, Mr. Yamate?”

  “That if anything happens to me, you will take care of my wife, and make sure that she survives this.”

  Darian leaned forward, brown eyes narrowed. “Why’re you asking me this? Why not Ben? He’s the one with the house and gun. Obviously you don’t find me too responsible or. . . well, you don’t find me to be a lot of things.”

  “While this is true, now that John has left, you’re the only person I trust to take care of everyone. So far you’re the one that’s been able to handle everything out there with the most composure. It is clear that these people are not sick, but completely lifeless shells. Their minds are gone, they show no fear or pain, no intelligence or regret for anything. They cannot be saved or cured.”