by Boye, Kody
He pushed himself into a sitting position and looked into the front seat, expecting to find Desmond and Jamie dozing or at least sitting there in silence. When he didn’t, however, his eyes immediately fell to the front window, where he found the truck to be sitting on the side of the road next to what appeared to be a bed and breakfast.
How far out are we?
He looked at the clock. Though the display read 11:35, that gave him no indication as to how long he had been passed out.
Head throbbing, eyes still raw from crying, he looked to his right just in time to see Jamie and Desmond coming out of the building.
Thank God.
He opened the door. “Hey,” Jamie said.
“Hey,” Dakota replied, shielding his eyes from the glaring light. “How long was I out?”
“Three hours,” Desmond said. He gestured Dakota to slide over so he could sit one of the boxes on the floor. “You hungry?”
“What’s in there?”
“Chips.”
Dakota helped himself. Jamie leaned into the vehicle, set his box on the floor beside Desmond’s, then pushed himself further inside to plant a kiss on Dakota’s lips. “How you feeling?”
“My head hurts like hell, but I’ll live.”
“We’ll stop at a gas station and see if we can find any painkillers. Sorry I had to throw you in.”
“That’s ok.” Dakota chuckled. “Just as long as we’re safe.”
“We are. Desmond did a helluva job driving.”
“I tried,” the boy said, sliding into the passenger seat.
“You did good,” Dakota nodded. “You run fast too.”
“I tried.”
“You did more than try,” Jamie said. “You saved our lives, bud. You should be proud.”
Desmond merely frowned. Jamie closed both doors before circling around the vehicle to crawl into the driver’s seat.
“Which way are we headed?” Dakota questioned.
“I couldn’t get on the other side of the road. We’re heading toward Minnesota.”
“Minnesota?”
“We’re gonna keep heading this way, then take the interstate down to Indianapolis before taking I-80 through Nebraska and Wyoming.”
“I know you’ll get us there,” Dakota said.
“Definitely.” Jamie started the truck. “It’ll take us a few hours to get to Minnesota. I’m not sure how the two of you feel, but I’d rather keep driving for as long as we can.”
“I can switch off with you again,” Desmond said. “I don’t think Dakota’s up for driving though.”
“No,” Dakota admitted, grimacing as Jamie maneuvered the truck onto the road. “Not now.”
“I don’t want him driving anyway,” Jamie said, “especially after he passed out.”
Jamie looked up into the rearview mirror and smiled reassuringly at Dakota. Dakota smiled back.
As they started forward, toward Minnesota and the next chapter in their lives, Dakota felt a pang of guilt for ever feeling safe at the asylum.
All good things eventually came to an end. He’d have to remember that.
They drove through the day and late into the night. The interstate was all but empty, an act marked not by cars or the undead—who, in low numbers, seemed to follow the roads as though driven by some clearer instinct. The weather clear, the sun was out, and little hindered them from their pursuit of safety up until evening. About that time, a light drizzle began, followed by what eventually turned into a full-blown thunderstorm.
“We can’t drive in this,” Desmond said, finger placidly tapping the glass as a flash of lightening momentarily lit up the hazy night sky.
“Yeah we can,” Jamie said. “It’s just a little rain.”
A crack of thunder sounded overheard.
The rain thickened and drowned out the fog in front of them.
Dakota swallowed a lump in his throat.
You can’t drive in this, he thought, watching the windshield wipers struggle even to push the rain to the side, let alone clear them of any water. You’d be crazy to think you could.
“You need to stop,” Desmond said, this time turning his head to look at Jamie.
When Jamie began to protest, Dakota cut him off. “Listen to him, Jamie. Please pull over.”
“There’s no point in driving if you can’t see where you’re going,” Desmond continued. “Let’s stop, Jamie. We’ll just look like another car on the side of the road.”
Jamie shook his head. His hands tightened around the wheel, bleaching his knuckles to a ghastly shade of white. For a moment, Dakota thought he would ignore them and keep driving, completely disregarding any sense of safety in favor of finding a more suitable location. Then he sighed and pulled over to the side of the road, disengaging the vehicle upon finding a stable place to park. “All right,” he said, leaning back in his seat. “We’ll stop.”
Dakota tightened his grip on his boyfriend’s shoulder. Jamie tensed under the pressure, but soon relaxed and let out a sigh. “See?” Dakota asked, stroking the muscles under his fingers. “You feel better already, don’t you?”
“I do.”
“It’s been a long day,” Desmond murmured. “We need some sleep.”
“It’s gonna get cold in here,” Jamie said. “I think it’ll be ok if we leave the heater on though. The storm shouldn’t last for long.”
“You’re not going to drive once it stops, are you?” Dakota asked.
“There’s no point in sitting out in the open.”
“If it stops in an hour,” Desmond began, “I’ll drive. I’ve had more sleep than you have.”
“You sure you’re ok navigating these roads?”
“I’m fine with them. I’m just not sure about getting down to Indianapolis.”
“I’ll be awake before we get anywhere near I-35,” Jamie said, reaching down to recline his seat. “You fine with my seat being above your head, babe?”
“That works for me,” Dakota said, spreading out along his side. He waited for both Jamie and Desmond to recline their seats before snaking an arm around to set his hand on his boyfriend’s arm. “You sure you’re ok?”
“I’m fine. It’s you I’ve been worried about.”
“I feel better than I did earlier.”
“I don’t like it when people black out.”
“Neither do I,” Dakota chuckled, “especially when it’s me.”
Jamie touched his hand, the tips of his fingers cresting the bridge of his knuckles. Dakota sighed contentedly.
The low purr of the heater did little to drown out the sounds of the raging storm.
Morning came early with the sound of rolling tires and rain. Brought to consciousness by the moving vehicle, Dakota opened his eyes, half-expecting to be just imagining the movement happening below him. However, when he tilted his head back and saw the hazy sky quickly swimming by, he knew he couldn’t be imagining things.
Unless I’m dreaming, he thought, shivering. It had been no more than a moment ago that he’d been startled awake by the image of a zombie lashing out at he and Jamie as they were running toward the truck, desperate to escape from the asylum they’d called home for a time.
“You awake?” Desmond asked.
Dakota nodded, pushing himself up.
Desmond looked into the rearview mirror to acknowledge Dakota’s presence before returning his eyes to the road. “We’re in Minnesota now.”
“We are?”
“Uh huh.”
Dakota leaned into the front seat to look at Jamie and smiled when he saw him still sleeping. He planted a brief kiss on Jamie’s stubbly cheek. “How long have you been driving?”
“Three or four hours.”
“The rain let up pretty quickly then.”
“Uh huh. I had a bad dream and told Jamie to switch with me when I saw that the rain had let up.”
“Only a drizzle now,” Dakota sighed, leaning back in his seat. He strapped the seatbelt across his waist and pushed his a
rms over his head. “You want me to drive?”
“Jamie said not to let you.”
“I’m feeling better.”
“Still…” Desmond paused, “I’d feel more comfortable if you didn’t.”
“Just offering.”
“I know. I’d let you, but I don’t want Jamie mad at me.”
“I doubt he’d be mad, but I can understand how you wouldn’t want to upset him.”
Especially after what happened the first time I did it.
Shaking his head, Dakota closed his eyes, only opening them when he felt a chill creep along his lower arms. “Is the heater on?” he asked.
“It should be.”
“It’s cold back here.”
“I think there’s a few vents back there. See if you can find them.”
Dakota did. He leaned forward and messed with a few settings on the dividing console and sighed when he felt welcoming warm air blowing out at him. “Thanks.”
“No problem.”
“You have any idea how long it’ll take to where we’re going?”
“Not sure,” Desmond sighed. “I tried messing with the GPS, but it doesn’t work. The satellites must have gone down.”
“So much for common luxury.”
“No kidding, huh?”
Dakota nodded. He was about to lean forward to say something else when he saw something glimmering in front of the road.
“What the…?” Desmond said.
Jamie stirred. “Wha?” he asked, eyes fluttering open.
“There’s something in the road,” Dakota said, pointing.
“Aww fuck,” Desmond groaned, slowing the truck to a stop.
Dead ahead of them, near a turn-off into the woods and directly in front of their path, a mass of cars and twisted heaps of metal lay like pigs long-dead and gutted in a butcher shop. Jamie, who’d been asleep until that moment, shot up to view the scene before them. It took but a moment for his face to twist into a snarl and his cheeks to brighten as though blood vessels had just exploded below their surfaces. “GODDAMMIT!” he cried, slamming his hand into the dash.
“Don’t do that,” Dakota said, snatching his boyfriend’s arm before he could slam his fist down again.
“Don’t do that? Dakota, you’re fuckin’ crazy! What the hell are we supposed to do now?”
“Well,” Desmond said, trailing his voice off as though unsure to proceed. “There is one thing we can do.”
“What?” Jamie asked. The boy pointed at the turn-off. Jamie’s face brightened even further. “You can’t be serious.”
“What else can we do?”
“Can we jump the divider?” Dakota asked, looking to his right. “I mean, there aren’t any cars on that side.”
“There’s no way this truck can jump that,” Desmond said. “Even if we could find something to use as a ramp, it’d be no use. The truck’s too heavy. We’d just get stuck on it.”
Jamie let out a long, hard exhale and brought a hand to his forehead, rubbing his temples as though he’d suddenly been struck by a migraine. It sure appeared that way, given the flush in his skin and the tremble in his wrist.
“Jamie?” Dakota asked.
“Go,” Jamie said.
“What?” Desmond asked.
“I said go,” Jamie repeated, lifting his head. “Go. Turn off. Do something. I can’t stand sitting here.”
“If you don’t want me to turn off, I don’t have to.”
“There’s no point in just sitting here, Desmond. If we can’t get to where we’re going the short way, we’ll go the long way.”
“You sure you know where to go?” Desmond asked, switching gears and making the brief turn that would take them off the interstate.
“That’s what maps are for,” Jamie sighed.
No one said a word as Desmond broke through the treeline.
Illusion took precedence over reality. What appeared to be one road was actually another. One house looked the same as the next. Trees extended for miles on end without any sign of difference between one crop or the other. They went in circles, Dakota knew, even though they were only taking the occasional turn, and by the time night fell, all three of them were at their wits’ end.
“This is ridiculous,” Jamie sighed, defeated, collapsing back into his seat as Desmond pulled over to look at the map in the center console. “We’ve been going at this for hours.”
“You can’t even read the map,” the boy said. He, too, was angry, despite his usually-calm and reserved demeanor. His voice carved daggers in the air and drew fresh blood from microscopic particles. “What the hell are we supposed to do?”
“Keep going?” Dakota offered.
“There’s no point in that,” Jamie sighed. A growl rose in his throat when he saw that the sun was beginning to set behind a hill and the sky was dampening to a dull hue of grey. “I don’t know what to do.”
“There’s not much we can do,” Desmond said. “Maybe we should just stop for the night, see if we can get into someone’s house.”
“For what?”
“Food, maybe a map.”
“We’ve got food in here, buddy.”
“I want to get out of the truck.”
“I do too, but there’s no point in drawing attention to ourselves.”
Dakota leaned back. While Jamie and Desmond argued in the front seat, their tempers finally getting the best of them, he looked outside and frowned at how fast the sky seemed to darken. Maybe it was just a Minnesota thing, but regardless, it set his nerves on edge, especially with the commotion going on in the seats in front of him.
They’ll stop, he told himself, trying not to keep track of the time in front of him. Really. They will.
They kept fighting, on and off, for the next half-hour. By the time they stopped, it was full dark.
“Let’s just stay here for the night,” Jamie said, reaching over to disengage the vehicle. “We’re obviously too tired and angry to think about anything rationally.”
Desmond said, “Whatever.”
Dakota caught the beginnings of a snarl on Jamie’s face. He shook his head slightly, just enough for his boyfriend to catch the point. “Either of you want to sleep in the back tonight?”
No one answered.
A light blinked on in the distance.
Am I seeing things? Dakota thought.“Did you guys see that?” he asked.
“See what?” Jamie asked.
“That light.”
“What light?”
“There.” Dakota pointed. “Look.”
Jamie waited. When the glimmer didn’t shine, he sighed and tilted his head slightly. “Really, Dakota, I’m not in the mood for—”
The flicker cut Jamie off midsentence.
“I saw it,” Desmond said. “You had to have.”
“I did,” Jamie said. “Start the truck.”
“What if it’s trouble?” Dakota asked. He thought of all those weeks ago in Steve’s apartment, when the gang had first showed up and their lights had lit up the night sky.
Steve.
He managed to hold back a tremble of emotion when Jamie pushed himself up in his seat and set his jaw. For a moment, he simply sat there, watching the distant light swing back and forth, then he knocked his knuckles on his window and shook his head. “If it’s trouble, we’ll handle it. Right now, I just want to figure out where the hell we’re supposed to go.”
Desmond flicked the key in the ignition and flashed the lights twice in response. The light in the distance stopped swaying, went out, then blinked back at them two times. “They see us.”
“Go,” Jamie said.
Dakota found himself wanting to cross his fingers as Desmond put the truck in gear and maneuvered back onto the road, toward the hill where the beacon of hope continued to glimmer in absolute darkness. He contained himself though, preferring reality to deal its dues than to wish for good with false superstition of childhood belief.
The pressure of Jamie’s hand falling ove
r his knocked him from his thoughts. “We’re cool,” he said. “We’ve got guns.”
“And a truck,” Desmond added.
Dakota smiled.
The truck lurched up the hill as Desmond switched gears, then a tall wooden fence and a breathtaking pasture flashed into view.
“Like their own little Eden,” Jamie muttered, leaning forward as the beacon’s light tilted into the air and began to wave at them from the side of their road.
“What do I do?” Desmond asked, pushing his foot on the brake.
“Pull over when you get close enough,” Jamie said. “Roll my window down. If something goes bad, floor it.”
“Got it.”
Desmond switched to the lowest gear and pulled up to the side of the road.
His hand fell to the stick and put it into neutral.
Like a will-o-wisp slowly drifting across the horizon, the light moved forward until, finally, a Native American man with long white hair came into view. Jamie pushed his finger onto the passenger armrest and rolled the window down.
“Good evening,” the Native said.
“Evening,” Jamie said. “We’re kind of lost.”
“I can see that, sir. Not many people come back here. Not many people around to come back here either, if you think about it.”
“Can you help us? We’re trying to get the interstate.”
“I can help you,” the man said. He looked up the road, toward a hooded figure that stood near a gate with a lantern in his hand. “Go tell your father we have visitors.”
“Yes sir,” the figure said, turning to disappear up the road.
“Welcome to our home,” lantern-bearer said. “My name is Eagle. This is the Partridge Family farm.”
CHAPTER 7
“School’s in session,” Erik smirked, slamming the last curtain into the windowsill of Romero’s Charity High School’s teachers’ lounge.
“Never thought I’d be back so soon,” Steve chuckled, settling down into an armchair.
“Me neither,” Ian said. He took a moment to examine their surroundings before collapsing onto a couch. “Where we goin’ from here?”
“Idaho,” Erik said. “That’s been the plan all along.”
