Dead Highways (Book 2): Passage (4 page)

“We need to get out of here.”

“Is it safe?”

“No. But if we stay here, we’ll die of heat exhaustion. We have to make a move. Take our chances.” I looked back at her. “We’ve gotten this far, haven’t we?”

“Olivia needs formula. She’s getting low.”

“How low?”

“Like she might have enough left for one or two bottles low. But I remember seeing a daycare place on the way to Ted’s house yesterday. They might have some we can take.”

“Where was it? Before or after we got into the accident?”

“Before. It was in that neighborhood though, on the corner. I can’t remember the name, but there was a sign in the front yard. One of those home daycare places, I guess.”

“We’ll look for it,” I said, peeking out the passenger window at Ted’s green Jeep. “You think maybe the rest of them went back to Ted’s?”

“Could have figured we’d go back there looking for them.”

“That’s what I was thinking.”

“Probably there right now.”

I nodded. “Then we better get going.”

“The keys are in the ignition. Can you drive this thing?”

“I don’t know if it’ll even start. The door could have been open for a day, maybe longer. Same with most of these cars. Could be a lot of drained batteries. And even if I
could
drive it, I’d prefer something with a better turning radius. We need to go back the other way. We’ll just take Ted’s Jeep. They probably left it for us, don’t ya think? And we know it’ll start.”

Now all we had to do was wait for the right time to make our move. The good news was Ted’s Jeep was right beside the Mack truck, just a few yards away. The bad news was we’d likely be seen by at least a few infected once we hopped out.

Peaches gathered Olivia and came into the front seat, readied herself for departure.

I unlocked the passenger door, kept my eyes on the side mirror.

“Anyone coming?” Peaches asked.

“Yeah. A woman and a small child. Duck down until they pass.”

I considered going when they were three car lengths back. Neither the woman nor the child looked like they could pose a giant threat to us, even if their infected minds made them believe they had super powers. But still I’d rather take my chances with one person over two. As terrible as it may sound, I was hoping to see a child walking by themselves. That would give us the best odds. What came next, however, was almost as good.

It was an old man, hunched over, walking slower than my grandma.

“Now,” I said, and threw open the passenger door.

Fifteen seconds later, we were in Ted’s Jeep heading back east.

“I don’t think he even noticed us,” Peaches said.

“Probably can’t see further than ten feet in front of him.”

Peaches laughed, even though I wasn’t really joking. Without my glasses, I was basically blind too.

“I’m just gonna head back the way we came. Let me know if you see this daycare place.”

It felt great to be out of that stuffy cabin and out in the open air. I wanted to close my eyes and relax, feel the wind whip across my face, but damn if I didn’t have to keep my eyes on the road. The last time I was behind the wheel, I’d crashed my grandma’s Buick, and that was with my eyes open.

Not long after we left the highway, we came upon the daycare. Peaches had been right about there being a sign in the front yard—white, with dark blue lettering.

The Baby Brig.

Whoever thought up that name was probably voted
most likely to fail at business
in high school. I didn’t remember passing this Baby Brig place at all. Then again, I was a man, which meant I usually had tunnel vision.

The front door was open, but we knocked anyway, calling out if anybody was home. No one called back. Satisfied, we went inside and explored the daycare.

What a mess. Dirty, dirty, dirty, would be the best way to describe it. Not the type of place I’d want to drop my kid off, unless I hated them and wanted them to suffer. Maybe The Baby Brig name wasn’t so inappropriate after all.

Peaches found a supply closet pretty quick, refilled Olivia’s baby bag, and then we were on our way. It felt weird having everything go as planned. How often had
that
happened over the last few days? We found the stuff without any problem, and didn’t have to kill anybody to get it. Nor did we have to run for our lives. Hell, we practically strolled back to the Jeep—like it was just any other day.

Two miles down the road, that comfortable carefree feeling came to a screeching halt, in the midst of yesterday’s wreckage. I pulled up next to my grandma’s Buick. It looked just as I’d remembered it—like an ugly car with a busted up face.

“Why did you stop?” Peaches asked.

Because I was confused. Dead bodies lay all around.

Only.

Not as many as before.

I opened the door and got out of the Jeep, walked around to the other side.

Peaches opened the passenger door and leaned out. “Jimmy, what are you doing? I don’t think we should stop until we get to Ted’s.”

“Don’t you see this?”

Peaches picked up Olivia and got out. “See what?”

I slowly crossed to the other side of the road and stood over one of the bodies.

“Oh God,” Peaches said, as she came up behind me. She turned away, revolted. “What happened to it?”

The body belonged to one of the two men responsible for strangling Luna to death in the ditch. Robinson had killed him shortly after. Quick shot to the back of the head. The bullet wound was still clearly visible, but the rest of his body had been mangled and eaten nearly down to the bone. Something had gotten its fill on this guy, and he wasn’t the only one. I scanned the rest of the street, counting six more bodies, all of them left in a similar
pillaged
state.

“It looks like they were eaten,” I finally said, stating the obvious.

“You think animals did this?”

“It’s certainly within the realm of possibility,” I said. “But what happened to the other ones?”

“What other ones?”

“The other bodies. There was three times as many yesterday as there is today. I know it. I’d never forget. What happened to them? Did somebody move them? Did they get up and walk away?”

The Walking Dead theme suddenly began playing in my head.

“I-I don’t know, Jimmy. I don’t know. Maybe … maybe someone
did
move them.”

“Why though? Why would someone move them?” I looked back down at the stripped remains of the man at my feet. “Where is the other guy who killed Luna? He was right
here
?”

“Are you sure he was dead?”

I sighed. “Pretty damn sure, yeah. But … hold on a minute.” I glanced between the two houses where yesterday Diego had chased a young boy. A young boy like us, not infected, that he had killed in cold blood. “Follow me.”

I marched down the ditch between the two houses and into the open backyards. Swing set in one. Old, beaten up doghouse in the other.

“Jimmy, where are we going?” Peaches asked, clutching hold of Olivia. “I don’t feel safe here.”

“Neither do I,” I said, turning toward the house on the left.

She was right, as usual. It wasn’t safe.

But still, I needed to see for sure.

I
had
to.

“Thank God,” I said.

The body of the young kid Diego had killed still lay face up in the kitchen. He
hadn’t
magically disappeared, like the others outside on the street. The murder weapon, a simple steak knife, remained in his chest at the last point of entry. The large pool of dark red blood surrounding his upper body was so thick it looked like syrup. His face was gray and emaciated—his eyes open and empty. He looked stiffer than Pee-wee Herman at a peep show. Luckily, the bugs hadn’t found him yet, but the scent in the house made me want to barf up last night’s meatloaf a second time.

Peaches took one look at the rotting body and hurried out of the kitchen.

Oh well. I had told her to wait outside, but she’d insisted on following me into the house.

She waited for me in the living room, one hand over her nose and mouth trying to block the smell. Olivia slept on against her chest, not bothered. “So that was him … the boy Diego…”

I nodded. “Now you see why I didn’t want him to come with us.”

“I never doubted your judgment.”

I wondered if that would still be the case if I told her the truth—that I’d assisted in Diego’s suicide.

But that was for another time.

We left the house and walked back around to the front. Along the way, I kept an eye out for infected. The neighborhood was clear, quiet.

“So strange,” I said, as we passed the eaten bodies. “I still don’t get it.”

“Just leave it. I’m sure it was animals. I mean … what else would do that?”

Zombies.

But those aren’t real. A dead person walking around, no blood flowing, no oxygen to the muscles. Impossible. The very design of such a creature defies science and logic. And yet the thought wouldn’t leave my mind.

What if…?

As I went around the front of the Jeep to the driver’s side, I noticed a folded piece of paper scrunched under one of the windshield wipers. I lifted the wiper blade and opened up the paper.

“What is it?” Peaches asked.

“A note,” I replied, sitting down in the Jeep. “I can’t believe I didn’t notice it earlier. It’s from Robinson.”

“Really?” Peaches said, her face lighting up.

I began reading the note aloud, interrupted by a noise to my left. A thirty-something woman with short brown hair ran out from between two houses and began heading toward the Jeep. She had on a white shirt and jean shorts. The shirt had bloodstains all over it.

“Hurry,” Peaches said. “Get us out of here.”

I hesitated. Then I saw five or six more appear behind the woman.

Time to go!

I handed Peaches the note and started the Jeep. I sped off, glancing back in the rearview mirror. The gang of infected ran down the street after us, with the bloodstained woman in the lead. But we were too fast. A moment later, they weren’t even a blip on our radar.

On the five-minute ride to Ted’s house, Peaches read aloud the note Robinson had left us.

To Jimmy and Peaches,

If you’re reading this then you’re alive. I’m sure you’ll be happy to know the rest of us are alive too! After the camp was attacked, we took my car back to Ted’s house. As you probably figured, we left the Jeep behind, hoping you would find your way back there as well. But you never showed. And so once daylight came we decided to go back and see if we could find you. And that’s where we are right now. I’m sitting in our campsite, writing you this note. We’re gonna pack up most of this stuff and take it with us. But we’ll leave one of the tents behind for you. Inside of it will be some food and extra guns Ted brought from the house. Even some ammo for Sally. You might need it if you want to continue this journey with us. Soon we’ll be leaving for Orlando, heading for the Walgreens off Narcoossee Road. We’ll leave a map behind for you with the location circled. We will wait there until 6pm. If you can make it by then, we would love to see you again. It’s not the same without you. If you decide not to come, I’ll understand. I imagine it’s only gonna get more dangerous from here on out. Ted says you all can stay at his house if you want. He even left you a note on the front door. Whatever you decide, please stay safe and know that we are thinking of you.

Your friend, Robinson   

A few minutes later, we pulled into Ted’s driveway. On the front door was the note Robinson had mentioned. I pulled it off, started reading it. Peaches came up behind me. I smiled and showed her the note.

Please feed my fish. Thanks, Ted,
was all it said.

Aside from the wooden cross Ted had made having fallen over, Luna’s gravesite remained unchanged from the previous day.

“Did you expect any different?” Peaches asked.

“I’m slowly learning not to expect anything,” I said, fixing the cross.

“And to think we were so concerned about Diego coming with us, and now we’re the ones left behind.”