Broken World (5 page)

“I’m from the Louisville area,” I say.

“Clinton, Tennessee. Not too far from
Knoxville,” Axl says.

Joshua frowns and rubs his chin like he
has a beard or something. It’s as smooth as a baby’s butt, though. “I don’t
know about those areas. If you were from one of the northern states, I’d say
you were safe. But I don’t think Tennessee and Kentucky have been hit hard by
the virus yet.” He give us a sympathetic look. “I’m sorry, you’ll just have to
wait and hope.”

A pit forms in my stomach, and I can’t
move. There’s a seventy percent chance I am going to die. It should hurt less.
I don’t have much of a life, anyway. No family, few friends. What am I leaving
behind? Nothing. But the pain in my chest is so intense it’s like I’ve been hit
by a car. It hurts like hell.

“Dammit!” Angus gets to his feet and
stalks off toward the crumbling gas station. A string of profanity drifts back
as he goes.

Axl looks the same as he always does.
Resigned. At what point did he accept this is all he’d ever be? All he’ll ever
have. I wish I’d accepted it. Maybe it would make this moment easier.

“Coffee’s ready.” He stands up and grabs
a few steel camping mugs. “Doc?”

“Sure.”

Axl hands me a cup. He pours a second
one for Joshua. It’s hot, but I wrap my hands around it anyway. My palms sting
from the heat. I can’t find the motivation to bring it to my lips.

Axl sits back down and nods his head
toward the now empty chair. “Might as well take Angus’s chair, he won’t be back
for a while.”

Joshua gets to his feet. His limbs are
so gangly that it looks like they’re tangled together. A bit of coffee spills
in the process. He cringes and shakes his hand, then blows on it lightly.

“Shouldn’t you go check on your
brother?” he asks when he’s safely in the camp chair. It’s too small for him.
He has to be at least six foot six.

Axl takes a drink of his coffee. “Naw.
He just needs to cuss a little. Maybe break somethin’.” As if on cue the sound
of breaking glass shatters the silence. “Told ya.”

I finally take my first sip. The coffee
is surprisingly good. I pay attention to the camping gear for the first time.
It’s all top-of-the-line. The tent isn’t huge, but it’s nice and solid. The
camp chairs aren’t the cheap kind you buy at the grocery store. They’re the
expensive ones that have padded seats and a back that reclines. How did the
brothers afford all this stuff? There has to be thousands of dollars’ worth of
equipment in the car. And the car itself is new. And nice. Leather seats,
totally spotless. There’s no way they had the money for this stuff. Axl told me
he worked construction, when he could get work. Bad economy. That’s what he’d
said.

Axl’s eyes meet mine and his eyebrows
pull together. “What?”

I take another sip while I try to keep
my expression as blank as possible. “Nothing. Just thinking.” Who did I get in
the car with?

He nods, but his stormy eyes stay on me.
He doesn’t believe me.

5

ANGUS
STAGGERS BACK just as the sun peaks over the horizon. The knuckles on his right
hand are cut up and bloody. He clenches and unclenches his fist like he’s
trying to makes sure nothing is broken.

We’ve already started breaking down the
camp. Almost everything is packed into the car. Axl put up the third row of
seats in the Nissan, but there’s still more than enough room in the back for
all the supplies the brothers have.

Axl sees his brother’s hand and walks to
the back of the car. He shakes his head and cusses under his breath. When he
comes back he has a first aid kit. He thrusts it at Angus. “Better clean it.
Don’t wanna find out you’re immune just to die from infection.”

Angus grunts and takes the first aid
kit.

When we’re all packed, we pile into the
car. Axl takes the driver seat. Angus insists I sit up front. He acts like he’s
doing me a favor, but he just wants the middle row to himself. Joshua climbs
into the third row and lays down. He’ll be asleep in no time. He walked all
night.

I can’t get the camping equipment and
car off my mind. How did I not notice it earlier? They must have stolen it.
There’s no other explanation. And it would be the perfect timing, too. No one
is really going to worry about looking for them. Not with this virus sweeping
the country, killing most of the people exposed. Who would bother? Not the
police. Probably not even the person it was stolen from. They know it too, or
they wouldn’t be so casual. These guys may be uneducated rednecks, but that
doesn’t mean they’re stupid. They are smart and they are resourceful. They know
exactly what they’re doing.

“So no brothers or sisters?” Axl says
out of nowhere, breaking the silence hanging over us.

His eyes sweep over my face, and I shift
in my seat uncomfortably. He runs a hand through his dirty blond hair. It’s
messy, but in a cute way. His looks grow on you, I guess.

“No. Just me. And I’m pretty sure I was
an accident. At least that’s what my dad used to say…” I don’t want to talk
about Roger. Why did I say that? His gray eyes dart my way. It’s distracting
and jumbles my thoughts.

“Sounds ‘bout right. My mom used to say
the same thing to me. She say that to you, Angus?” He looks into the review
mirror, trying to catch his brother’s eye.

“Hell no, she never said that shit to
me. She knew better. Knew I’d give it right back,” he growls.

Axl flinches and looks back at the road.
I guess Angus was immune to their mother’s wrath. Maybe he was part of the
reason for it.

“Yeah, well, she said it to me. Lots.”
Axl’s hands grip the steering wheel tightly and his lips purse. He and his
brother do the same thing when they’re thinking.

He’s silent for a few minutes. His hands
relax. “She was a bitch. Hit me and screamed at me. But I still cried when she
died. Go figure.”

“That’s ‘cause you’re a pussy.” Angus
chuckles to himself.

“It’s because she was your mom,” I say.

Axl looks over at me. “Would you cry, if
your dad died?”

“Not now. I’m an adult. But if it had
happened when I was a kid, I probably would have.”

He nods, but he frowns like Angus’s
words really bugged him. He doesn’t say anything else. Neither do I. I still
want to know how she died, but I’m not going to ask. He obviously has a lot of
issues with his mom.

We drive in silence after that. I grab a
paperback book out of my purse and read for a while. It’s an erotic romance.
The more I read the more I’m aware of Axl sitting next to me. So close I can
feel his body heat. I squirm in my seat and finally slam the book shut. This
isn’t the time or place. After that I just stare out the window, letting the hours
pass while I imagine how I’ll feel when I see my daughter.

A yellow sign catches my eye. “Next
check point sixty miles,” I say to Axl, reading the sign as we pass it.

“We’re gonna stop here though.” He
points to a building in the distance. “We’re gonna need gas before too long.
Who knows when we’ll see the next open station.”

I glance over my shoulder. Angus lounges
in the middle row, flipping through a Penthouse. Seems like the kind of reading
he would pick. Joshua is passed out in the third row. I can’t even see the top
of his head from up here.

The car begins to slow, and I turn back
around. The building is a gas station/diner combo, and it’s old. Like
everything else on Route 66. Just before we turn into the parking lot, we pass
a large, handmade sign. It’s nothing more than a piece of plywood with words
painted in sloppy, white letters. Next Gas Station 80 Miles.

The parking lot is packed. Cars line up
at the pumps. It’s incredible how many people are here, considering you can go
for an hour or more and not see another living soul on the road.

A few cars have handwritten signs in the
windows that say things like
Need Gas, Please Help
. It reminds me of the
man from the diner. He was out of cash and nowhere near home. What happened to
him?

“We’re gonna get gas first.” Axl pulls
up to the back of the line. “Who knows when these stations are gonna run out.
People’ll really be screwed then.”

“Not us, brother.” Angus leans forward.
“Even if we don’t make it all the way to the coast we’re prepared.”

Axl nods and his eyes meet mine. I can’t
get all that expensive camping gear off my mind. His eyebrows pull together,
but he doesn’t say anything. Neither do I. Truth is, I’m not sure I care how
they got their gear. Not as long as I make it to Emily.

We wait for thirty minutes. Angus goes
back to reading his magazine while Axl and I sit in uncomfortable silence. He
glances at me from time to time. He almost looks nervous.

Axl gets out when we finally make it to
the pump, and Angus clears his throat. The sound is thick and phlegmy.

“You’re not gonna screw my brother. Ya
hear me?”

I twist around to face him. His
expression is hard. I hold his gaze for a few seconds. His eyes are the same
color as his brother’s. How did I not notice that before? Only they’re
different. They are pure violence.

“I have no intention of screwing your
brother. I already said that.”

“Good, then we’re on the same page. We
been through a lot, and I ain’t gonna let some whore stripper come in here and
rip this thing apart. We’re blood. Ain’t nothin’ stronger than that.” He raises
his eyebrows like he’s challenging me.

The speech would be sweet if it wasn’t
so threatening. But there’s nothing protective or loving in his words. I know
his kind inside and out. It’s all about control with him.

“Whatever, Angus.” I turn back around.

He doesn’t say anything else. The pages
of his magazine crinkle. Guess he went back to his Penthouse. Gross.

Axl climbs back in and starts the car.
When he pulls into a parking space, the sudden urge to get out of the car overwhelms
me. Being in here between the brothers makes me feel like I’m trapped in a
mine. Just a couple days. That’s it.

The air in the diner is smoky and thick.
There is one open table. The waitress who leads us there probably hasn’t slept
in a week. Her eyes droop. She has a thick raspy voice and an even thicker
cough. Smoker.

“I’ll grab you folks some water and be
right back.” She barely glances at us as we sit down.

Joshua and I take one side. The brothers
take the other. Axl keeps his eyes on his menu, but Angus glares at me. He
brought his can. How am I going to eat with him spitting in that thing?

Joshua can’t sit still. He studies the
menu for a few minutes, then glances up at Angus’s hard stare. Then back down
at the menu. Back and forth it goes. He makes me more nervous than Angus does.

Finally he jumps up. “I have to use the
bathroom. If she comes back, I’ll take a burger and fries.” He hurries away
without looking at any of us.

“What the hell is goin’ on?” Axl asks as
soon as Joshua walks away. He looks at his brother, not exactly glaring, but
almost.

“Nothin’. Just had a talk with the
stripper earlier. Wanted to make sure she knew she couldn’t screw her way
between us.” Angus spits into the can.

Axl rubs the bridge of his nose like the
conversation hurts his head. He’s not alone. “Nobody is screwin’ anybody. Just
drop it, will you?” He won’t even look at me when he says, “Tell him.”

“Look, no offense, but you guys aren’t
exactly my type.” Lumping the two of them together isn’t really fair. Truth is,
now that I’ve been around Axl a little more, I don’t think he’s a thing like
his brother. But I want Angus to get over this and convince him I’m not
interested. Because I’m not. I’m really, really not. “Men like you are pretty
much the reason I don’t date anymore. I have a bad track record. It usually
ends up with me getting the shit beat out of me.”

Angus smiles, like the sound of someone
beating me up appeals to him. It probably does. Axl’s stormy eyes flash. They
are so similar to his brother’s, but so different.

But do I detect a little bit of hurt in
them?

Axl tears his gaze away from me and faces
his brother. “There. Good ‘nough?”

Angus seems to relent a little. His body
relaxes. “Fine. Wouldn’t want to make the good doctor uncomfortable or anythin’.
We may need him.”

Axl goes back to his menu. I actually
agree with Angus. We have no idea what’s going to happen. What if this is the
end? Having a doctor in our group might be a good thing.

Joshua isn’t back before the waitress,
so we order for him. The second she’s gone I get to my feet. “I’m going to
pee.”

The diner is crowded. I have to squeeze
my way between waitresses and patrons, dodging trays and elbows. I bet they
haven’t had a crowd like this in here since the 1950s.

There’s a line for the restroom. I stand
at the back and dig through my purse until I find Emily’s picture. She smiles
at me, and my heart aches.

I didn’t want to give her up, but I was
sixteen. It wasn’t safe in my home—if you could even call it that—and there was
no way I could bring a baby there. It was just me and my dad. Mom had run off
with a neighbor when I was ten. Not that I can blame her for leaving, but I do
blame her for leaving
me
. She must have known dad would need a new
punching bag if she left. She obviously didn’t care. That hurts even more than
the beatings did. That she didn’t care about me.

I loved Emily the moment I saw her. She
was so tiny and pink, and her face was all smashed in from birth, so ugly-cute
like all newborns. I loved her enough to give her to the Johnson’s. They sent
me updates for a while. Nine months, to be exact. Then they stopped. I can’t
blame them. It wasn’t an open adoption, and they never got a single response
from me. Maybe they thought I didn’t care. Truth was, it just hurt too much.

The woman behind me coughs on the back
of my head. Hot, moist air hits my hair and brushes it forward. I start to turn
around so I can yell at her, but I freeze. She’s not the only one. Half the
people in this diner are hacking their heads off. People slump over in booths,
their breathing raspy and their faces bright red. A woman moans and shivers.
She has on two jackets, but she still shakes so hard her teeth clang together.
Her face is covered in sweat. The man next to her urges her to eat something.
But he coughs too.

My stomach aches. I’m going to hurl.
It’s here.

I forget the bathroom and head back to
the table. I have to pee, but I can do it on the side of the road. We need to
get out of here. Joshua is back. The three men are tense. They look up when I walk
over.

“It’s here,” I say, but they already
know.

“We’re gettin’ our shit to go,” Axl
says.

He’s pale. So is Angus. His face isn’t
as hard as it was before. Death tends to do that to a person. Turn them into
spaghetti.

Even Joshua shakes, and he knows he’s
immune.

I sit down and wait, wringing my hands
on top of the table. My hands tremble so hard that when I pick up my glass to
take a drink, water spills everywhere. I set it back down.

“We still need supplies.” Angus’s voice
is hollow.

“Why don’t you and the Doc head to the
convenience store and grab us some stuff? Vivian and me’ll wait for the food,”
Axl says.

Angus gets to his feet, and I stand to
let Joshua out. People cough on them when they go by. Angus clenches his fist
when a man sneezes on him. But the anger melts away and all the color drains
from his face. He walks faster.

“Guess we’ll know soon,” Axl says.

I nod, but I can’t make my mouth work to
say anything. My insides curl into a ball. They grow tighter each time I think
about it. I should be relieved. Soon the suspense will be over, and I’ll know
whether or not I’m going to die. But I’m not. I don’t want to die, and the
thought of it happening makes me want to throw up.