Dead Highways: Origins (14 page)

I was awoken suddenly by a banging sound coming from somewhere behind me.

Boom! Boom! Boom!

Before I could even lift my head, the sound came again.

Boom! Boom! Boom!

I got up and headed into the living room. Robinson wasn’t fully awake, but the sound had caused him to stir. I stopped next to his recliner and watched as he repositioned himself to go back to sleep. Then—

Boom! Boom! Boom!

No doubt where the sound was coming from now. Someone was outside banging on the front door. Only this and nothing more.

As I nervously began to creep toward the door, Robinson woke from his slumber and looked over at me.

“What are you doing?” he asked, his voice hoarse and tired. “Why you making that noise?”

“It’s not me,” I said. “Somebody’s at the door.”

“Huh?” It took a second to register in his brain, and then Robinson leapt up from the recliner and joined me in staring at the front door. “But who would . . . ?”

I didn’t have an answer for him. And I didn’t need one.

“Anybody home?” asked a voice on the other side of the door.

I felt stupid for not identifying the late visitor earlier just by his knock, or closed-fisted
bang
.

I stood back as Robinson went to open the door.

Boom! Boom! Boom!

“Stop banging on the door, asshole,” Robinson yelled. “Who are you and what do you want?”

I stepped forward, laughing a little. “Open the door. It’s Aamod.”

I think Robinson’s brain was still asleep. Again he looked at me like I had spoken to him in another language, and then finally the light bulb came on. He unlocked the dead bolt and threw open the door.

“What are you doing here?” Robinson asked.

Without much light, Aamod was little more than an outline on the front porch. But his Indian accent was unmistakable. “You gave me your address,” he said.

“Yeah, and you could have waited until morning.”

“No, I’m sorry. We couldn’t.”

I stepped forward where Aamod would be able to see me. I immediately felt weird only having on a pair of boxer shorts. “What’s wrong?”

Aamod didn’t turn to acknowledge me. He kept his focus on Robinson. “May I come in?”

Robinson moved out of the way and let Aamod come inside the house. Naima followed him. Now I
really
felt weird about only having on a pair of boxer shorts.

The four of us went toward the light and sat down at the dining room table. I was the only one to sit on the side with my grandma, even as she kindly raised her head to greet our guests. Aamod said hello to her. When grandma didn’t respond, he looked at Robinson to comment.

“She’s not feeling well,” Robinson finally said.

“Then that makes two of us,” Aamod replied. “You see my wife . . . Naima’s mother . . . she woke up tonight and—”

Peaches emerged from the hallway and slowly crossed the living room. It was fitting that she should hear Aamod tell his story, since she was the first to suggest that other people may have also woken from their comas.

“Have trouble sleeping?” I asked.

She sat down next to me instead of my grandma. “What’s going on?”

“As you can see, we’ve got some late night visitors,” I said.

“Sorry to wake you,” Naima said.

Peaches started to respond, but Robinson cut her off. “Where is she?”

“Where is who?” I asked.

“I’m not talking to you, Jimmy,” Robinson said. “Aamod . . . where is your wife?”

Aamod swapped a knowing glance with his daughter. “That’s why we’re here. We don’t know.”

“What do you mean you don’t know? You said she woke up tonight.”

“She did. Then she disappeared.”

“Disappeared?” Robinson inquired.

Aamod took a deep breath. “Allow me to explain. I didn’t feel comfortable having her in the bed with me, so I laid her down on the couch. Then about an hour ago, I woke up to get a glass of water, and I realized she was no longer there. So I went to Naima’s room, thinking maybe she’d moved her for some reason. But Naima had done no such thing. After that, we searched the house, the yard. I walked up and down the street, calling her name, but . . .”

“Go on,” Robinson suggested.

“But she was gone,” Aamod finally said.

“Did you check the house for forced entry?” Robinson asked. “Maybe someone broke in.”

“And what,” I said. “Stole her?”

Robinson shrugged. “You never know.”

“I checked the house,” Aamod said. “No windows were broken. And all the doors were locked when I went to bed. I wasn’t taking any chances after what happened earlier.”

I sure didn’t need an explanation about
what happened earlier,
but Robinson looked like he wanted one. Fortunately, Aamod wasn’t about to turn either of us in to the authorities for sending Jerry off to hell.

“I’m certain she woke up during the night and left,” Aamod continued. “Where she went I don’t know. I came here . . .
we
came here . . . because we thought maybe you could help us find her.”

Robinson sighed and rubbed his eyes.

I felt bad for Naima. She looked upset hearing her father tell the story, more so after seeing Robinson’s unexpected reaction to it.

“Is there something wrong?” Aamod asked.

“No, nothing,” Robinson said. “Other than wondering what you expect
me
to do? I mean, if your wife woke up and then just decided to run off, how am I supposed to help you find her? It’s not like I can put out a search for her. I’m one man, and she could be anywhere.”

“I know that,” Aamod said.

“We just didn’t know where else to turn,” Naima added.

“One of you should have stayed back at the house. How do you know she won’t return?”

“I don’t. But we couldn’t stay there.”

“Well, that’s not my problem,” Robinson said. “You should have waited longer.”

“No, you don’t understand. It wasn’t safe. The house was surrounded.”

Robinson leaned in, his eyebrows furrowed. “Surrounded by
what
?”

“People,” Aamod replied. “People who wanted to hurt us. We’re lucky to have made it out alive.”

Suddenly, my Grandma’s whole body began to shake violently, the metal cuffs rapped against the wooden chair.

“Jimmy, why is she doing that?” Peaches asked.

But the answer was obvious, as my grandma shook and squirmed and fought to free her hands from the cuffs.

Beyond a shadow of a doubt.

She wanted out.

The seizure-like shaking only lasted about fifteen seconds, but when it stopped, I was afraid it had killed her. Grandma slumped forward, head first to the wooden table, and began gasping for air. Peaches and I lifted her back up hoping that it would help open her airways. We held her upright for the next few minutes, until her pulse gradually slowed and she began breathing normally again. Then we gently laid her head down on the table, her eyes fluttering open and closed.

She had survived, but not without suffering some injury.

“Oh, no, Jimmy, look,” Peaches said, pointing at the blood dripping down from the handcuffs. “She’s bleeding.”

Officer Robinson rushed over to our side of the table to check it out. “That doesn’t look good. The cuffs must have cut into her wrists.”

“Were they too tight?” I asked.

“No,” Robinson said. “But her wrists are small and her skin is thin. Most people don’t try to pry their hands out of the cuffs, because this is what happens. With enough force, you could literally fillet the flesh right off the bone. This isn’t
that
bad, but it looks like it’s already starting to swell.”

“What is wrong with her?” Aamod asked. “You say she is sick.”

“She hasn’t been herself ever since she woke up,” I said. “We think it might be a side effect or something.”

“Side effect of what?”

“From the infection. From being in a coma.”

I didn’t think it was possible, but the expression on Aamod’s face grew more serious. Grave, even. “So you’re telling me this woman—”

“She’s my grandma,” I interjected.

“Sorry, your grandmother also woke up from her coma tonight? Like my wife? Like Naima’s mother?”

“Yes.”

“But why is she in handcuffs?”

“Because instead of running off, she tried to attack us,” I said. “We handcuffed her to the chair so she wouldn’t hurt herself or someone else. Not much good it did, though.”

“I suggest we take the cuffs off, Jimmy,” Robinson said. “We need to clean up her wrists so they don’t get infected.”

I nodded.

“Can she talk?” Aamod asked.

“If she can, she doesn’t want to, or doesn’t remember how.”

Aamod turned and faced his daughter. “Then that explains it.”

Robinson dug deep into his pockets searching for the keys to the handcuffs. “Explains what?”

“The people outside my house,” Aamod replied. “I figured they must have followed me back after I had gone off searching for my wife. Some rogue group looking to start trouble. I tried to find out what they wanted, but they wouldn’t talk to me. In fact, now that I think about it . . . they didn’t even talk to each other. Finally, I got my shotgun and threatened to start shooting if they didn’t leave my property. And still they never moved an inch. That’s when we decided we’d better get out of there. They moved in on us when we got to the car. I had to plow through them to get out of the driveway.”

The room fell silent. Nobody knew how to respond.

Robinson finally found the keys and juggled them between his hands, waiting for me to give him a signal.

“So it’s true then,” Peaches said. “It’s not just her. Others have woken up too.”

“I counted at least a dozen,” Aamod added.

“That we know of,” I said. “There could be a lot more than that.”

“What if it’s all of them?” Peaches asked. “There had to be hundreds of millions infected in the U.S alone. What if they’re all waking up as we speak? What if they’re all . . . different?”

“You mean, dangerous?”

“Yeah.”

I took a deep breath. “Then God help us.”

Despite the damage done to her wrists, we decided to keep grandma cuffed a little longer, at least until we had a better idea what exactly was going on. Peaches helped me clean the cuts as best we could, shifting the handcuffs up and down grandma’s arm so I could lay the bandages. Grandma didn’t even flinch when we dabbed on the rubbing alcohol. She kept her head down on the table, unmoving, but still awake.

After that unfortunate task was out of the way, everyone paced around, wondering what to do next. We definitely weren’t going back to sleep. Not. Gonna. Happen. Aamod’s story had us more worried than a young Michael after a bad Jackson 5 performance. I even sneaked outside to make sure people weren’t surrounding the house. Luckily, I didn’t see anyone. We were fortunate that Robinson lived in a rural part of town.

At some point, Bowser woke up and joined us. Robinson introduced him to Aamod and Naima, and then filled him in on the latest group gossip. Diego and Luna, however, still slept on like champs. They must have been so worn out from hiking back to town.

I looked at my watch. Almost five thirty in the morning.

“When does the sun come up?” I asked, stealthily peering out of a window.

“Around six thirty or so,” Robinson replied.

Everyone eventually gathered in the living room, including Jax, who found a nice comfortable spot to lie on Bowser’s lap. Bowser had brought out the leftover potato salad from dinner, offered it to the group, but the only one who was hungry was him and the dog.

“Aamod, you never told me how you thought I’d help you find your wife,” Robinson asked.

“I didn’t know if you’d help me, help us,” Aamod said, gesturing at his daughter. “But you said you were assembling a group of survivors, and so I didn’t know where else to turn. I figured maybe you and your group would be willing to go to my house and help us look for her.”

“And by that you really mean . . . help deal with the threat?”

Aamod thought about the question for a moment. “I guess that would be fair to say.”

Robinson smirked. “No, that’s not fair to say. That’s the truth.”

Aamod shrugged. “So what if it is? We needed help, and you are a police officer.”

“I
was
a police officer, but the world is different now. There’s no calling for backup. These guys. Jimmy. Bowser. Peaches. They’re all the backup I have now. And I don’t think any of them want to risk their lives looking for a needle in a haystack. And neither do I.”

Aamod bowed his head.

“Not even during the day?” Naima asked.

Though I could tell Naima was trying to hold it together, she failed at masking the pain in her voice.

“Not even during the day,” Robinson answered.

Naima immediately got up and left the room.

“We don’t have much. You can’t blame us for trying,” Aamod said.

“I don’t. I know the importance of family. They mean everything, especially in uncertain times like these. I was even thinking of heading to New Orleans to look for my son.”

I perked up. “
Really?
When was this?”

Robinson stared up at the ceiling, looking lost in thought. “Last night. But I hadn’t made up my mind yet, Jimmy. That’s why I didn’t say anything.”

“Were you just gonna leave us behind?” Peaches asked.

“I hadn’t thought that far. Maybe. It’s my son . . . you know . . . my blood. I’d do anything for him.”

“And I’d do anything for my wife,” Aamod said.

“That’s why I don’t blame you for wanting to look for her. I know how you’re feeling. I’d give anything to see my boy one more time. But I think both of us might be too late.”

“You don’t know that,” I said. “We’re getting way ahead of ourselves here.”

“Maybe,” Robinson said. “I can’t think straight right now. It’s been a long night.”

Jax climbed into his dad’s lap and tried to cheer him up by licking his face. Robinson seemed to enjoy it.

“So what’s the deal?” Bowser asked. “We leaving at sunrise?”

“You can do whatever you want,” Robinson said.

“I’d like to check on my girl. Maybe she woke up.”

“Suit yourself.”

“Jimmy, you give me a ride again?”

“I guess I have to, since nobody else will,” I said. “Now if you’ll excuse me, I’m gonna take a leak.”

I didn’t really have to go to the bathroom. I just wanted to get away for a minute. I could feel a headache starting to come on, so I took some pills to calm it. I also put some clothes on, the same tan pants and light blue polo shirt I’d worn yesterday. Then I went into Robinson’s office to check on Olivia. As I was looking down at her sleeping soundly in her new bassinet, Peaches snuck up behind me.

She put a hand on my shoulder. “You know, whatever happens with the others, I hope we’ll stick together.”

“So do I,” I said, wondering what exactly she meant by
stick together.

“I feel like you’re the only one I can really trust.” Our eyes connected in the dim candlelight. Then she smiled and said, “So don’t let me down.”

I smiled back. “No pressure.”

She joined me in watching Olivia sleep.

“You thinking what I’m thinking?” she said.

“That depends.”

“Her parents. What if they’re waking up right now, at the hospital?”

“Could be.”

“Well, I hope it’s true.”

“Because you’re scared?”

“Well, yeah, but also because she deserves to grow up in a normal world.”

“I don’t know if I’d call the world we grew up in normal, but maybe that’s a good thing. Normal is boring, right?”

“Seriously though, how great would it be if we could reunite her with her parents?”

“It would be a relief, that’s for sure.”

“What would you do . . . I mean, if things really did go back to the way they were before?”

I thought about my life. My daily routine. Reading. Selling the occasional book, usually something with a shirtless man on the cover. Books with titles like
The White Knight’s Long Sword.
Eating junk food all day and watching the apocalypse on television, instead of being a part of it. My old, boring, predictable life. Safe. Comfortable.

What would I do if things went back to the way they were before?

I’d have to give it some thought and get back to her. Robinson began yelling my name from the other room.

“Jimmy, get in here now!”

I ran out of the office and back into the living room. Robinson was in the dining room with the others, watching as my grandma was having her second seizure of the night. Again, she was yanking at the handcuffs, no regard for the further damage she was doing to her wrists. I grabbed her arms and tried to hold her still, but the bandages I’d placed earlier had already come off and the bleeding began anew. She didn’t scream, moan, cry, or make any sound whatsoever. She had her mouth closed and her eyes open, locked in a dead stare.

Fifteen seconds later, it was all over.

Slowly, she started to calm down and regain a regular heart rate, but her wrists were left a bloody red and purple mess.

“What happened?” I asked.

“Nothing,” Robinson said. “We were just sitting in the living room and all of a sudden she started—”

“Freaking out,” Bowser succinctly added.

He was probably freaking out himself, having been asleep during the first go-round.

“Okay, that’s it,” I said. “We have to take off these handcuffs before it happens again.”

“I agree,” Robinson said, searching his pockets once more for the keys.

When he found them, he tossed them to me and I carefully unlocked the cuffs, trying to get as little of my grandma’s blood on me as possible. I set the bloody cuffs in the sink with Bowser’s dirty potato salad bowl and then began cleaning and re-bandaging my grandma’s wounds. She didn’t resist. For now, the psycho switch was turned to off.

“Grandma, would you like to lie down?”

No surprise. She didn’t answer me.

She may not have wanted to go lie down, but she did want to go somewhere.

Outside.

She got up from the dining room table and walked toward the front door. She didn’t hurry. She sort of glided along like she was sleepwalking.

“Where is she going?” Robinson asked.

I ran over and stood between her and the door, blocking the way out.

“No, I’m sorry, you can’t go outside right now,” I said. “It’s too dark. Maybe we can go for a walk later when the sun comes up. How does that sound?”

She had no idea what I was saying. I was sure of it. But I needed to be as calm and soft-spoken as possible to lessen the chance she’d decide to strangle me again. She stood still for a moment looking confused, and then finally turned around and went for the back door. Again, she moved slow and without urgency. This time Robinson had to be the bad guy.

He leaned against the sliding glass door and simply shook his head.

Aamod and Naima watched the show from the comfort of the couch, blank-faced as ever. Bowser, on the other hand, had a crooked smile on his face, no doubt baffled by my grandma’s unusual actions. Glad somebody was amused.

I came up behind her, took her by the arm, and led her back into the dining room. After some cajoling, she finally sat back down and stayed put.

Good grandma.

I met up with Robinson and Peaches by the back door. “It’s not a side effect.”

“What then?” Robinson asked.

I glanced back at grandma. She was gazing into the burning candles just as I had earlier. Maybe the flames would lull her to sleep, as they had me.

“This isn’t gonna wear off,” I finally said. “She must have brain damage. She’ll never be the same.”

Peaches put her arms around me. “I’m sorry.”

“You know, as much as it hurt me to think of her dying in that coma, seeing her like this is much worse.” I continued looking at her. She was mesmerized by the fire—like a caveman witnessing it for the first time. “Why did she . . . ?”

I walked away, unable to finish the thought that ripped at my heart.

Why did she have to wake up?

I took refuge in the bathroom, tears blurring my vision, a flood of feelings drowning me.

Pain. Embarrassment. Selfishness.

But mostly.

Feeling like a horrible grandson.