Lost Highway

by Hunter, Bijou

  Odessa presses her cheek against my chest, and I attempt to be patient. As much as I want to break these chains, my freedom will come from soothing Odessa before she goes mad and uses one of the nearby tools to end me.

  “My mother never hugged me after Athena died,” Odessa says, wrapping her arms around my waist. “She never told me that I was to blame. She never said she hated me. I still received gifts for my birthdays. They still helped me with my homework. They still told me they loved me, but my parents never hugged me after that day. I think pretending they didn’t blame me was too difficult if I was in their arms the way Athena never would be again.”

  “Adolescents are naturally impulsive and easily distracted. You made a mistake, but you didn’t make it out of malice. You made it because you were at the age when making mistakes is common.”

  “Did you make mistakes as a teenager?”

  “Yes,” I say, thinking back to my training. “Everyone makes mistakes.”

  “Like the way you brought me here,” she whispers in my ear, taunting me.

  “I needed a distraction, and you provided one. I didn’t make a mistake.”

  When Odessa sighs, her warm breath on my neck sends a shock of heat through me. The feeling both invigorates and enrages me. I want to push her away, but my hands can’t reach her.

  “My little sister wanted to raise ponies,” Odessa says, caressing my cheek with hers.

  I feel her tears against my skin. Her fingers play with my shirt, and I fear she will undress me next. How far will I need to go to gain freedom from the chains?

  “Did she have your eyes?” I ask.

  Odessa stares at me, and I see more of her returning. She thinks for a moment, struggling to remember. Nodding, she smiles slightly.

  “The voices down here will only show you the negative moments of your life,” I explain, gaining her attention. “They won’t let you recall how your parents loved you. Or how your sister enjoyed her life. Or how you suffered for your sin. They will only want you to die, so you can join them. They’re petty and cling to this world rather than moving on.”

  “Maybe they can’t move on. Maybe no one in the Lost Highway can move on. We might be trapped here forever.”

  “I killed Tom in the kitchen, but his voice doesn’t haunt me. How many trophies died in your room? Did you hear them?”

  “Maybe they can’t move on because they died down here,” she says, glancing around the basement’s bloodied walls.

  “Or maybe they cling to the suffering of this place in the same way you cling to your sister’s death. It defined them as much as your guilt defines you.”

  Odessa stares at me, but her expression is muddled between my words and those in her head. She grips my shirt, searching for an anchor. The electric charge she infected me with still tickles my flesh. I want to break free and shove her away. Instead, I lean forward and press my lips to Odessa’s.

  While I fear she’ll devour me in her oversexed way, her lips surprise me by easing away and curling into a smile.

  “No lies,” she says and returns her head to my chest. “Robots don’t kiss girls.”

  Her response irritates me. I am not a robot. I have feelings. Isn’t rage an emotion? Annoyance? Pride? I feel what I need to feel to survive.

  The heat in my gut is a feeling too. More proof I’m not a machine.

  “I don’t want to be chained up,” I admit after a minute with the voices taunting me with my future locked here with them.

  “Just a little longer and then I’ll let you free.”

  “What if you die in the next few minutes? I’ll be trapped.”

  “You left me in the coffin,” she says, sitting up and glaring at me.

  The clarity in her eyes makes me smile. She’s still human enough to hold a grudge.

  Odessa studies me. “You’re smiling.”

  “I’m not a robot.”

  “No, I guess you’re not,” she says, cupping my face. “Or you’re a learning robot, and you’ve assumed human traits after watching me.”

  I frown harshly, but Odessa only laughs and pats my face. She slides off of my lap and smiles at me.

  “Are you going to kill me when I let you free?”

  “I haven’t decided.”

  Odessa’s smile widens. “A learning robot would be smart enough not to say that.”

  “Stop calling me a robot.”

  Sitting on her knees, she leans closer and whispers, “I’m just playing. I now know for a fact that you’re all man.”

  Odessa glances down at my erection and then back at me. She winks before leaning over to unlock the first metal cuff. I sigh with relief when I’m free. We stand and look at each other. Odessa is still smiling, but she also looks ready to run.

  “Would an apology fix this?” she asks, backing away.

  “I ought to lock you away.”

  Odessa’s gaze flashes to the coffin. “Or you could view this as a learning experience.”

  “You hit me in the head with a bat.”

  “Something you took like a champ.”

  Odessa runs out of space once her back reaches the wall. I stand over her and consider my options. While I’m angry, I also feel relief at seeing clarity in her eyes. I want to punish her, but locking her in the coffin will only give a win to the basement’s voices. Hurting her won’t help with a woman accustomed to using pain to relieve her guilt.

  Sighing, I turn and walk to the stairs. Odessa quickly follows. She’s no doubt worried I will lock her in the basement. I leave the door open for her to rush through. When she stands in the kitchen, Odessa still seems smaller than when I first brought her to the cabin. Her humanity remains intact, but I can’t be sure for how much longer.

  Chapter Eighteen

  Odessa

  Quill holds a grudge after I knock him over the head and chain him to the wall. I don’t blame him, but I also can’t really remember why I thought attacking him was such a great idea. As insane as my behavior was, I feel better after enjoying his warmth.

  Curled up on the couch with my eyes closed, I imagine his rough stubble against my cheek. As long as I focus on that particular memory, the chaos of the Lost Highway can’t touch me.

  The real Quill’s face appears above mine as he leans over the back of the couch.

  “Put on your shoes and jacket. I need to run an errand, and you’re coming with me.”

  My thoughts immediately seize on him ditching me somewhere. I don’t blame him for wanting me to go, but I still hope he’ll kill me quickly rather than handing me over to another Death Dealer.

  “Where are we going?” I ask.

  “To the outpost for supplies.”

  I think to ask questions, but my mind remains numb. Besides, Quill is probably on his last nerve with my interrogations.

  Once my tennis shoes are on, Quill hands me a jacket a few sizes too large. He waits for me to complain, so I keep my mouth shut. We leave the cabin and clearing behind. Having forgotten how dense the woods are, I look up still expecting to see the faux sky. All I find is the canopy of trees.

  “Who runs the outpost?” I whisper after we walk for long enough for my feet to hurt.

  “I don’t know who they are. Tom called them scavengers. They remove the abandoned cars from the highway and gather items from inside. They’d have taken your bags if I hadn’t gotten to them first.”

  Quill speaks in a normal voice, so I stop whispering. “What do you give them in exchange for what they sell?”

  His only answer is the bouncing bag on his back. I think to inquire more, but the woods suffocate my curiosity. The only goal I have for the rest of our trek is to keep up with an unyielding Quill.

  Once we reach the highway, we pause in the brush on the side of the road. Quill studies the woods while I squat next to him. I don’t see any sign of my car. The two-lane road is clear and quiet.

  “Be ready to run,” Quill tells me.

  Nodding, I keep quiet and follow closely behind hi
m. Stepping onto the highway, I notice a crackle of electricity in the air. The sky is brighter here, yet I only see gray clouds mirrored back at me.

  More than once, I hear the sounds of cars racing by. My gaze keeps lifting upward, searching for the noises.

  I bump into a stopped Quill. Despite his disappointed frown, I’m only interested in finding comfort. My mind races with possible threats, and I struggle against the urge to run into the highway. Much like in the basement, voices call out to me and promise a quick death.

  Quill roughly places my hand against his cheek. The coarse stubble awakens a warm, inviting sensation inside me. I smile relieved at him. He doesn’t smile back, but I notice his frown ease.

  We begin walking again. Every time the voices tempt me to run into the highway, I caress my cheek in the way my fingers did against his face. Though I don’t feel grounded in this world, Quill is as much a part of the Lost Highway as the road and mile-high trees. He’s anchored here, and I can survive as long as he keeps me close.

  Chapter Nineteen

  Quill

  Tom told me about the outpost on the first night I spent at the cabin. He loved sharing information. Thinking back, I realize he expected me to protect him. I’d only assumed at the time he wanted me to hunt down new trophies for him because he was too lazy to do it himself.

  Using my rifle scope, I search for movement on the other side of the highway. I rarely use my guns anymore, considering how rare bullets are here. Besides, I find killing up close and personal more rewarding.

  I glance back at Odessa and find her staring at my back rather than keeping watch. I don’t think she even sees me. Soon, she’ll lose too much of her mind, and no amount of comfort will bring her back. Remembering how her body felt close to mine, I both hope for and fear the day I lose her.

  The outpost mimics the sky bound corner store visible on sunny days. Today is overcast, and I worry about a storm. In her current state, Odessa wouldn’t do well in the woods overnight. Hurrying toward the store, I focus my mind on the task.

  The air is rich with the aroma of cooking meat. Odessa shows no interest in the odor. She no longer asks for food at all. I took two days to stop eating here, but Odessa held on longer to the old ways.

  The scavengers at the outpost hold onto the old ways too. They leave the “Welcome” sign on the front door even though there’s nothing welcoming about their demeanors. Ana’s been in the Lost Highway longer than many current residents, and her ruddy, cracked skin shows hints of peeling away. While she’s kept her basic sanity, her humanity long ago disappeared.

  Pedro is her partner. I don’t know how they met, or if they like each other. During one of my visits, Ana was alone. When I returned, she was with Pedro. He still smiles occasionally, but the humor never reaches his hollowed eyes. They share the same sunken gazes as most Death Dealers.

  Entering today, I’m bothered by their eyes like I’ve never been before. I see the same glossiness in Odessa’s gaze, and I’m not ready for her to go away yet. Behind me, she hesitates before walking into the small store. Her nose crinkles as she notices the smell, and I see her gaze searching mine for reassurance.

  “We get supplies and then leave,” I tell her.

  Odessa nods, but she isn’t fully with me. Her eyes lose focus, and she stops grimacing at the meat odor.

  At the front counter, Ana stares at me with her hungry eyes and wonders if I brought her anything good.

  “What do you need?” she asks, and Pedro walks out from the back.

  “Do you have anything fresh?” I ask Ana.

  “We got some peaches that didn’t rot yet. I think an apple or two are still good.”

  I walk to a wooden box where I pick through rotten fruit to find the few remaining decent ones. I show each one to Ana, so she’ll know what I’m taking.

  “What do you need fruit for?” she asks, eyeing my rifle.

  “Do you have any music or movies?”

  Pedro shows me a box filled with DVDs and CDs. Nearby, Odessa stares at a car seat. I know she’s wondering what happened to the kid. I grab her by the arm and tug her over to me.

  “Pick something to listen to and watch.”

  Odessa stares at me, and I fight the urge to shake her. Instead, I cup her cheek. When my thumb runs over her chapped bottom lip, Odessa’s eyes flood with emotion. She’s immediately back with me as if awaken from a trance.

  “How many can I take?”

  “I have enough to pay for whatever you want.”

  While Odessa flips quickly through the DVDs, I keep an eye on Ana.

  “How much would you want for her?” Pedro asks me. “We got a police dog now. We could trade.”

  Odessa glances at them and asks, “What can the dog do?”

  “Hunt,” Ana says. “Watch for Death Dealers.”

  “I can do that stuff too,” Odessa says to me, and I frown until realizing she’s joking. “I can also lift my leg and pee on stuff.”

  Ana doesn’t smile while Pedro laughs for too long. I hear him giggling even after Odessa shows me the CDs and a single DVD she chose.

  “A lot of the DVDs are porn or birthing videos,” she explains.

  Nodding, I set them on the counter next to the fruit. “Do you have anything else to eat?”

  Ana’s eyes nearly glow with hunger, but she isn’t imagining the same food as I am.

  “Any candy or chips?” I ask Pedro when Ana doesn’t answer.

  He points to a shelf behind us. Feeling uneasy with Ana watching Odessa with those ravenous eyes, I hurry to the bucket with the snacks. I find a Cheez-It, a few mini candy bags, and a pack of gum. I drop them next to my other supplies.

  “I’m taking this,” I tell Ana and then set the duffle bag on the counter. “I brought seven. That’s more than enough for these supplies.”

  “Eight would be better,” Ana says, looking at Odessa.

  “Unless you’re the eighth head, I don’t see your point.”

  I never learned to negotiate, and I’m slow at picking up new skills in the Lost Highway. One reason I killed Tom was how he kept bartering with me. If I did this for him, he’d do that for me. I’d rather just kill him and do whatever I wanted.

  Ana realizes I’ve been around longer than she has for one very specific reason. She survives by scavenging while I make my way by killing other killers.

  “Seven will do,” she says, opening the bag.

  Her eyes light up, and she shows Pedro. As they scurry to the backroom with my bag, Odessa peeks around a corner where a dog growls. She looks back at me and sighs.

  “You wouldn’t want that dog,” she whispers, returning to my side.

  I don’t mention how I wouldn’t trade her for even the best dog.

  Odessa looks over our stash before I add them to my supply bag. “What exactly did you give them?” she asks, though I sense she already knows.

  “They like heads. I don’t ask questions, and you shouldn’t either. Just don’t look in the standalone freezer in the basement.”

  Odessa studies my face for a long time, and I know she’ll touch me soon. I prepare myself for the shock of heat she causes when her warm fingers graze my skin.

  Odessa doesn’t disappoint. Though I endure her touch better now, the hot ache in my gut followed by the erection leaves me edgy and vulnerable. These are two dangerous qualities when still facing a three-hour walk to reach the cabin before dark.

  Chapter Twenty

  Odessa

  Relief washes over me once we leave the outpost and gain enough distance from the pungent meat scent clinging to the air. Ahead of me, Quill moves unflinchingly through the thick brush, shoving aside low hanging tree branches. I struggle to keep up with his pace.

  The crunching of our footsteps on dried leaves echoes through the woods, making me think people walk all around us. Before I can adjust to all of the noise, the day goes silent. I can’t even hear myself breathing in the cooling day.

  “Keep up,” Quill mout
hs to me.

  I speed up my pace, even as my right leg throbs. Around me, the woods wake up. The crunching noise returns along with what I think is growling. I stop more than once, feeling certain something is directly behind me. Every time, I find nothing, even as the growling circles me.

  “Odessa!” Quill calls out from yards ahead of me. “Keep up!”

  Nodding, I walk again and ignore the growling. Even when I hear what sounds like animals running nearby, I don’t stop.

  The wind picks up around me, throwing leaves and dirt in my eyes. I don’t think I hesitate. I’m certain I’m still walking. Except at some point, I find myself standing alone in the woods.

  The dancing leaves distract me from worrying about where Quill went. The wind’s power remains silent, though the voices return. They tell me how I was born with fanfare and welcoming faces, but I’ll die alone and unloved.

  I feel someone holding my hand and turn to find Athena staring up at me. Her face is just as I remember her from the day she died. Her hair is in short pigtails. Her clothes are covered in blood.

  “I didn’t want to die,” she says in a singsong voice.

  My mind struggles against the power of the Lost Highway’s tricks. I think I take a step forward, but I’m unsure if I do. The woods’ fury switches back on, and the intensity deafens me. The voices laugh. The animals growl. Athena squeezes my hand. Through it all, I’m powerless to flee.

  Suddenly in front of me, Quill shakes me hard enough to break the fog. His angry face is a relief, and I reach for him.

  “Eat this,” he says, shoving something into my mouth.

  “I’m not hungry.”

  Chewing the little bite, I struggle to understand what I taste. The flavor rushes back a long dead memory of enjoying Skittles with Athena. We ate them until the sugar gave us a giggling high.