Dead Highways (Book 3): Discord (13 page)

“He shot himself in front of you,” I said. “Man that’s horrible.”

“That’s not the worst of it,” Robinson replied. “Balled-up tight in the other corner of the room was his wife…his
ex
wife I’d learn later. At first, I didn’t realize what was in her hands. I didn’t want to believe it. She had…” Robinson drew back in the chair, cleared his throat. “She had a bloody head in her hands. Her son’s head. She was looking down at his face, caressing it with her hands, sobbing so hard. Tears streamed down her face. My God was she sobbing. And trembling. The boy’s body lay a few feet in front of her.”

“Oh my God,” I said, searching for better words. “He decapitated his son? Why…why would he do that?”

“He and his ex were going through a long, bitter divorce. A custody battle on top of that. The proceedings weren’t going his way to say the least, and he was angry and wanted revenge. He came to the house that night and got it.”

“How evil do you have to be to kill your own kid? I’m surprised he didn’t kill the wife too.”

“That was part of the plan, I think. He made her watch as he killed their boy in front of her. He purposely left her alive so she’d have to live with the memory. But she didn’t for long. Not two weeks later, before we’d even finished the investigation, I get word she committed suicide.”

“I…I don’t know what to say.”

“What can you say about that anyway? He’s dead. His son is dead. His wife is dead. The officer on the scene that night…guy named Rodriguez…he’s probably dead now too. They’re all dead and I’m still here. I’m the only one left living with the memory of that night, and it’s something that will stay with me until I join them in the ground. That’s the worst thing I’ve ever seen. I’ll never forget the sound of that woman’s sobbing. I can hear it even now. So unbelievably sad.”

The story was more gruesome than I ever imagined it would be, and now I had to follow it up by going to bed.

Awesome.

Peaches was still awake when I made it to the bedroom upstairs. She was sitting up in bed, two pillows stuffed behind her back.

“Were you waiting for me?”

“Sort of.”

I tensed up, suddenly wondering if she wanted to repeat what we did the other night. Maybe
more.
We both needed a bath. Plus I wasn’t sure if I could do that right after listening to Robinson’s horror story.

Oh please, who am I kidding? Of course I could do it. But that wasn’t why she had stayed up anyway.

I stripped down to my underwear and nestled in next to her on the bed. “What’s wrong?”

“Nothing,” she said softly, shrugging. I knew her well enough to know that when she said nothing was wrong, she actually meant the exact opposite. Damn woman, say what you mean. In this case, I had a pretty good idea what she wanted to talk about. It would just take a little delicate prodding to get it out of her.

“Long day, huh,” I said.

“Very long,” she whispered. “And scary. We came close today.”

“Close?”

“To dying.”

I nodded. “Sure. There were a few moments I thought we were done. You did good though. You held yourself together well. I was proud of you.”

“Yeah, I was proud of you too. You got us out of that house. And I’m sorry if I was kind of distant today. I didn’t mean to shut you off like I did.”

“It’s okay, I’m used to being ignored by women.”

She smiled. “Oh, stop. Maybe other women but not me.”

“I know you had a lot on your mind.”

Her smile went away as fast as it had come. “I was real mad at you this morning.”

“I probably deserved it.”

She shook her head. “You didn’t though. You were right about giving up Olivia.”

Here we go. The main event.

Showtime!

“But I was wrong. I was gonna keep her with us. You reversed my decision, remember?”

“You were only gonna keep her because of me. Not because you thought it was a good idea.”

“I can’t confirm or deny that.”

“You don’t have to. I know you, Jimmy. Despite all the corny jokes, you’re not an idiot. You’re actually much smarter than you give yourself credit for. You’re also a real genuine person, which is why I like you so much. As you can imagine, I haven’t been with many decent guys in the past. Years ago, I would have never given a guy like you a second look, no idea what I was missing.”

“I don’t give myself second looks either.”

Peaches smiled again. “There you go with the corny jokes. But seriously, what I’m trying to say is…I’m sorry I was mad at you this morning. I wanted to keep Olivia, even as I was giving her up. It killed me inside to watch her leave with Cathy. And I hated you for not fighting hard to keep her. I hated that you pushed us to come here. But I was only thinking about myself. I wasn’t thinking about your feelings, and I certainly wasn’t thinking about what was best for Olivia.” Her eyes began to fill with tears. “As the day went on, I felt guilty for being mad at you, because if Olivia had stayed with us, there’s a good chance she would be dead right now. And I’m so glad that didn’t happen. You think I’m a mess now…”

I put my arm around Peaches. “It was a tough decision, and I don’t know for sure if we made the right one or not. There are no guarantees in life. But I think we had the right intentions, and I really believe Cathy and Brian will take good care of her.”

“I hope so,” Peaches said, rubbing her eyes. “I hope they made it back to Florida okay.”

“I’m sure they did. Brian was a smart guy. And don’t forget, Olivia has Jax to protect her.”

“Oh yeah, the love dog.” Peaches let loose a half-happy, half-sad smile, continuing to wipe her eyes dry. “I feel so bad for Robinson. He basically lost his son today, and I’m sitting here crying over a baby that wasn’t even mine.”

“It doesn’t matter. You loved her. We all did. You have every right to be upset.”

“I just feel so thankful to have you in my life now, Jimmy. It sounds weird to say with the world all fucked up like it is, but I feel like I’ve gotten one last chance at love. To make up for all the dumb decisions I made in the past. And now…”

“What?”

“Now I’m scared I’m gonna lose it all. I’m scared I’m gonna lose you.”

I pulled her closer, kissed her on the forehead. “You’re not gonna lose me. I’m gonna be around for a long time. We both are.”

“You promise?” she whispered.

“Yeah, I promise.”

Moments later, she gently faded off to sleep. I sat up in bed next to her thinking about the promise I had made—the promise I knew I’d never be able to keep.

We weren’t going to live a long time. Not me. Not her. None of us. Not even superhero Ted. We could keep lying to ourselves, as I had lied to her. We could keep going, fighting our way through each day, survive another round, but eventually we’d be picked off one by one. Even if we could find a place in the country to lay low, that would just buy us a little time—delay the inevitable. We’d still be dead before the end of the year, our memories carried away like dust in the wind. I knew it in my heart. I could feel it coming. The timer that began weeks ago was quickly approaching zero, and there was nothing we could do to stop it.

So much for optimism. My attitude toward the future waxed and waned by the minute. My mind was more conflicted than a priest with a raging hard-on.

When my thoughts finally slowed down, I fell asleep.

I woke back up a short time later after hearing a noise in the upstairs hall. My eyes popped open and I felt instantly awake, though I couldn’t have been sleeping for long. Due to the house being eighty something degrees inside, Peaches and I had fallen asleep on the covers and not under them. Yet, somehow, a sheet now lay on top of me. I wondered if Robinson had come in after his guard shift and placed it over us.

How cute. He’d tucked us in. Two grown adults.

The house didn’t even feel that hot anymore. Perhaps the air outside had cooled to a reasonable temperature. Opening the bedroom window earlier was really paying off.

Only.

The window was closed.

Must have been Robinson’s work again, though it was strange that he would have made his way upstairs when his bedroom was on the first floor.

I lay in the dark listening to the strange sound outside in the hall. Must be Robinson heading back downstairs. That was probably it. He’d tried to be quiet but had woken me upon leaving the room. Poor guy, I couldn’t be mad at him.

Only.

The staircase was on the other end of the hall, and the sound seemed to be getting louder. Must be Naima going to use the bathroom across the hall. God knows she’d already spent a ton of time in the bathroom today puking. How much more did she have left to get out?

Only.

It didn’t sound like someone walking.

Or talking.

Or puking.

I listened, tried to pinpoint it.

It kind of sounded like…

Scratching?

Yes, that was it, like a rat or some other small animal scratching against wood. Just what I needed to get back asleep, the thought of rats hanging out in the walls. Not like I could get to sleep with that noise anyway. It was almost as bad as Robinson’s snoring.

I slowly pushed the covers off me and swung my legs out of bed, careful not to wake Peaches. I tiptoed across the hardwood floor—put my ear to the bedroom door.

Definitely scratching. Fucking rat was probably out in the hall trying to gnaw through the door. It sounded like a big boy too, probably the size of a cat.

Someone was playing tricks on me. Any minute Ashton Kutcher would jump out wearing his bellbottoms from That ‘70s Show and tell me I’d been Punk’d.

I cracked open the door, expecting to hear the pitter-patter of a rat scurrying off down the hall. Instead, I heard nothing. The scratching sound stopped completely.

Weird.

This whole thing was weird.

I swung the door all the way open and looked both ways down the hall. No rat. No person. Nothing but quiet darkness looking back at me.

Crazy.

I was going crazy.

It had been a long day and I just needed sleep. I almost had the door closed, ready to put this madness behind me, when the scratching sound returned. I was now sure it was coming from the bathroom directly across the hall.

“Somebody in there?” I whispered.

Sure someone was in there—someone with four little legs and a long hairless tail.

Templeton?

Nicodemus?

Master Splinter?

Had to be one of them.

“Is somebody in there?” I asked again, louder this time.

The scratching increased in intensity, and as the blood left my face, I realized it wasn’t a rat. It was a zombie.

A zombie was trapped in the bathroom.

But how did it get in there? I had used the bathroom before bed, and though I was tired and still feeling disturbed by Robinson’s story, I’m certain I would have remembered seeing a walking corpse in there.

I reached to my side for my knife but it was gone. I looked down, felt around. The sheath wasn’t even attached to my pants anymore. What the…? Had I taken it off my belt loop? Had it slipped off somewhere? Had I left it in the back of the truck? No idea. Oh well, at least I still had Sally. I could always depend on her.

I stepped out of the room and put my free hand on the cold brass bathroom door handle.

The scratching stopped again.

I started to turn the handle and then backed off. What in the hell was I doing? If there really was a zombie in the bathroom, I needed to wake the others and let them know. I was sure they’d be just as confused as me. They’d ask, how did a zombie all of a sudden end up in the upstairs bathroom? Did it swim up through the toilet? Did it teleport in from the Starship Enterprise?

I ran down the hall as the real answer suddenly came to me. The zombie got in the bathroom because when it entered it wasn’t dead yet.

I frantically knocked on Aamod’s door, called out his name, but he wouldn’t answer. If anyone should take care of this, it should be him. It was his daughter in there, after all. Naima had swallowed zombie blood and had been sick all day. It took hours for the infection to sink in, but on her last trip to the bathroom, it finally took her. Turned her. She probably realized she was dying and didn’t want to wake up next to her father as one of those things. She saved him and now he’d have to fix her. Set her free.

“What are you doing?” a female voiced asked.

I glanced down the hall at Peaches standing outside our room. “Hurry, help me wake Aamod.”

“Okay,” she said, rubbing the sleep from her eyes. “Let me use the bathroom first.”

“No!”
I yelled.

But I was too late.

Peaches had already opened the bathroom door. A high-pitched squeal rang out of her throat as a dead Naima grabbed her by the shoulders and pushed her backward. The two of them disappeared into the open bedroom.

Sally in hand, I ran back down the hall and into the bedroom. Peaches lay on her back on the floor in the center of the room, trying to push Naima off her.

“Help! Help!”
she yelled.

I reached down and grabbed Naima by the back of her shirt, tried to pull her off. Naima spun around and attempted to bite me, her breath smelling like rotting teeth.

In short time, the beautiful Indian girl had transformed into a monster version of her former self. Hardly recognizable anymore, the once smooth olive-colored skin of her face had become marked with bloody streaks where ribbons of flesh began to peel away. Her big brown eyes had turned a dark gray and leaked a thick white pus from the corners. Behind her snarling mouth, her perfectly shaped teeth began to shift around, stained red by her bleeding gums, ruining her innocent smile.

Peaches continued to scream as I tried again to get Naima off her, unsuccessfully. She had both hands around Naima’s neck, keeping her at arm’s length while trying to scoot out the side.

Wishing I had my knife instead, I smacked Naima on the back of the head with my gun. A small crack appeared on her soft skull beneath her black hair but she didn’t stop the assault. I hit her two more times in the same spot, each time producing a sound like an egg being split open. After the third hit, Naima finally fell to the side, disoriented but not yet silenced. Peaches used the brief respite to try and slide out from under her. Naima raised her head, her mouth still snapping open and closed, and grabbed hold of Peaches by her left ankle, preventing her from squirming away.

“Shoot her, Jimmy!” Peaches yelled.

With all the noise we were making, I was amazed no one else had woken up to come help.

No better option left, I pointed Sally at Naima’s head, took careful aim so that Peaches wouldn’t be hit by the exiting bullet, and pulled the trigger.

Click.

Nothing happened.