by Tonia Brown
“You aren’t eating?” she asked.
Dale shook his head. “Not hungry. But I’m sure Jonah is. It’s been hours since he’s eaten.”
“Been a lot longer for you,” Jonah growled.
“Yeah,” Dale agreed. “But unlike you, I can wait forever if I have to. Go on, then. Get some food. Leave us alone.”
Jonah didn’t want to leave that monster with Candy, but the zombie had a point. If Jonah didn’t get something in his stomach now, he would suffer for it later. Drawing a deep breath, Jonah stood, and went to see what was on the buffet.
Mulling over the artery-clogging choices laid out for lunch, he came to the conclusion that this chest-beating and dick-waving was getting ridiculous. For starters, he couldn’t compete with the keenness of the zombie. Dead Dale had no shame or shyness, and would always outdo him, out quip him and outplay him. Besides, it wasn’t like Candy was going to hang around. Once lunch was done, they would part ways and she would be out of their lives for good. No need to ruin his few moments left with her by arguing with Dale. He could do plenty of that later, after they were alone again.
When he returned, plate in hand and heart in check, Candy was laughing and smiling and having a grand time. It figured. Leave a woman alone with Dale for ten minutes and he would easily win her heart. Or at least her attention. On the one hand, it angered Jonah that even dead Dale was so suave and smooth and charming, and everything that Jonah wasn’t. But on the other hand, Jonah was accustomed to this sort of thing. He was comfortable being in the background, where he could go about his business as if his presence didn’t matter. Which it didn’t. In the background, he could enjoy Candy’s company for the next hour or so without feeling pressured to impress or even talk to the girl.
“Guess what?” Dale asked.
“I can’t imagine,” Jonah said around a forkful of macaroni.
“Candy is going our way.”
Jonah shot a glance to the woman in question. “What?”
“North Carolina,” she said with a nod. “Well, South Carolina, really. But yeah. That’s where I’m headed.”
“Isn’t that freaky?” Dale asked.
“Yeah,” Jonah said. “That’s pretty coincidental.” Too coincidental as far as he was concerned. Was this some fresh hell set up by Satan to confuse and mislead them? There was no way to tell. “I hope they can get your car in shape for the trip. It’s a long journey.”
“Car, schmar,” Dale said, and waved his hands in the air as if he could dismiss Jonah’s words by force. “She should ride with us.”
Though half expecting the words, Jonah still shouted, “Us?”
“Sure,” Dale continued. “We can spare the room, and we’re headed that way anyway. What do you say, Candy? Come with us.”
Candy gasped. “I don’t think I should.”
Jonah was both disappointed and elated. He would’ve loved nothing more than to have this beautiful woman go all the way with him, in every way, but he was also pleased to see a suggestion made by Dale fall apart. “See? She doesn’t want to tag along with a couple of perfect strangers across the country. Especially two men. Two strange men.” Jonah couldn’t emphasize ‘strange’ hard enough.
“It’s not that.” Candy shifted in her seat, a sudden bundle of nervous energy. “Believe me, compared to the folks I’ve been hanging out with lately, you guys could be wholesale murderers and still be a pair of teddy bears.”
“See?” Dale said. “And we’re going your way. You just said you couldn’t wait around for a mechanic. Why hitch when you can ride in style?”
“You can’t wait for what?” Jonah asked, wondering what other important details of this conversation he’d missed out on.
“A mechanic,” Candy explained. “I don’t really have time to sit and wait for them to get that bucket of bolts ready. I have to get away from here. Now.” Something in her voice suggested that her ‘now’ was almost as vital as Jonah’s ‘now’. Perhaps more.
Without thinking about the impoliteness of the question, Jonah asked, “What’s the rush?”
Candy stared at Jonah for a moment, in silence. Her plump lips twitched. Her bright eyes sparkled as she blinked. She clutched at the bag slung over the back of her chair, pulling it into her lap while she considered her next few words with a great amount of care. “It’s my father. He’s ill. I have to get back home before he passes.” She shifted her glance to the table as a single tear rolled down her delicate cheek.
After living with the granddaddy of liars for many years, Jonah was able to spot a made up sob story a mile away. It was all in the tone. The wording. The long pause one took before speaking that all but told the listener that you were indeed telling a big, fat fib. But Jonah had to give it to her—as far as lies went, it was a pretty good one. It had all the classic marks of a seasoned liar. The familial connection. The tug at the heartstrings. The well timed tears at the end. She was good. And despite the fact that Jonah knew she was lying, he decided he was going to believe her.
Because he wanted to believe her.
“That’s just awful,” Jonah said.
“Yeah,” Dale said. “Shame we don’t know someone going almost all the way there who could conveniently give you a lift.”
Candy wiped at her damp eyes. “I don’t want to impose.”
“A much as I hate to admit it,” Jonah said. “Dale’s right. We’re headed there anyway.”
“See?” Dale asked. “Even Captain Prude here agrees with me.”
Jonah rolled his eyes at the moniker.
“Are you sure?” Candy asked. “I don’t want to be a burden.”
“What burden?” Dale asked. “You can eat on my dime. I’m not eating anyway.”
“I’m not eating your lunch, am I?” Candy asked, eyeing Dale with worry.
Dale ogled her in a long, slow glare that spread from face to breasts to face again, before he said, “Not yet.”
Jonah held his breath as he waited for her response to one of Dale’s typical chauvinist remarks. Candy stared blankly at Dale, who just raised his eyebrows.
“Ain’t you the saucy-mouthed one,” she said, as she cracked a thin grin. “You know, I wasn’t really looking forward to the long haul, but now… hell… I think I’m gonna end up enjoying this.”
“Funny,” Dale said. “I was thinking the same thing.”
And even funnier? So was Jonah.
Chapter Fourteen
Hwy 50/I-70, Utah
139 hours: 29 minutes: 05 seconds remaining
Contrary to Dale’s worry, Utah wasn’t filled to the brim with prim and proper Mormons. Jonah had no idea of the religious affiliation of any of the people with whom they had come in contact, when they came into contact with people at all. The place was sparsely populated, even more so than Nevada, and the folks they ran into along the way seemed as easygoing as their surroundings. As for the drive itself, the highway was much of the same: brush and barrens, boring and blah. But the company! Well, that had brightened up considerably.
Candy was a delight as a travel partner. For starters, unlike Dale, she knew how to read maps, though she questioned the wisdom of relying on them.
“Isn’t that a mount for a GPS?” she asked, pointing to the empty carriage on the dashboard.
“Yes,” Jonah said. “But we decided to go au naturel this trip.”
“Why?”
“Because maps are fun?”
Candy lowered the travel guide to the floorboard. “Seems silly to me, I guess. I mean, why use a book when you got the Internet and all?”
“Yeah,” Dale agreed. “It does seem silly. Doesn’t it?”
Jonah sighed and scored one for Dale.
Her opinions about maps aside, it turned out that Candy did indeed like any kind of music, pleased as she was by both Dale’s hardcore rock and Jonah’s lighthearted folk tunes, singing both at full volume when she knew the song. Even though her voice left a little to be desired, Jonah was entranced by her singing.
He had never met a woman who knew all the words to both Scarborough Fair and Feed My Frankenstein. She even seemed to warm up to their limited selection of demo songs and the brief pieces that Dale played for her before he realized how hard it was to play the guitar while Jonah deliberately drove like shit.
When the music wasn’t at full blast, she talked. A lot. At first, Jonah worried that she was too chatty, but in the natural pauses of her conversation, either Jonah or Dale would find themselves prompting her for more. She was free with her life story, up to the more recent years, at which point she sketched only a vague image of the events that drew her all the way to Nevada from the Deep South. When the conversation rolled around to her reasons for leaving, she became reserved, electing not to go into detail about her father’s so-called illness or her need for a speedy return.
With a fresh face to tell his stale tales, Dale was in his element, spending hour after hour one-upping Candy’s stories with yarns of his own. Jonah put the kibosh on a few of the brasher tales, trying to curb the zombie’s naturally crude tendencies and spare Candy’s feminine sensibilities. (Though, based on what she had shared already, she certainly could take anything Dale could dish out.)
Dale insisted on stopping every few hours so he could stretch his stiffening muscles. Jonah kept a wary eye on Dale, sure that the dead man also intended to cop a quick feel of their fellow passenger if given the chance. But Candy proved able to take care of herself, deflecting Dale’s eager advances with a laugh or a turn of phrase or, in one case, a light smack.
As Dale walked a few times around the car to stretch, Candy leaned across the front seat to ask, “Is Dale sick or something?”
“What makes you say that?” Jonah asked.
“Well, he seems kind of peaked. And he gets cramped up real easy.”
Jonah shrugged. “He’s always been that way.”
“Really? You know, my mom suffered from low potassium. She had the same symptoms. Maybe he just needs a banana.”
Jonah looked out at the zombie circling the car in wide, loping steps. “I don’t think a banana is going to fix what’s wrong with Dale.”
Candy was the first to laugh, which triggered a snigger fit in Jonah. They both devolved into a heap of giggles that had Dale rushing back to join them just to see what was so funny. To Candy’s credit, she declined to answer. Jonah marked this as a score for himself. Not that he was counting.
Aside from Dale’s frequent stretching requests, the three of them made good time. Candy was as eager as they were to keep on the move, and offered several times to help with the driving. But Jonah refused to allow her behind the wheel, unsure of how her assistance would affect his deal with the Devil. He also hadn’t forgotten their hasty retreat from the law, but the farther they slipped away from Nevada, the less likely it seemed that their supposed crime would catch up with them. Just after sunset, as they neared the opposite edge of Utah somewhere near Green River, a low growl rolled across the Focus. It was a growl Jonah had been dreading all day.
After a giggle, Candy turned in her seat to ask, “Boy, was that your belly?”
Dale leaned into the back seat, rubbing his stomach and nodding his head.
“I ain’t surprised,” Candy said. “You haven’t eaten a thing since I met ya. Fool.”
Jonah glanced up to the mirror with a smile, unable to hold his mirth at her open teasing and Dale’s discomfort. Dale’s belly growled louder, and the zombie intoned a brief moan. Jonah cut his eyes at the dead man, who moaned again. Moaning was new, and worrisome. What would come after moaning? Gnawing? Biting?
“Dale?” Jonah asked. “Are you okay?”
“I’m hungry, man,” Dale said.
Candy, basking unknowingly in blissful ignorance, continued to verbally prod the zombie. “That’s what happens when you go all day without eating. They don’t teach you kids much out here, do they?”
Dale hunched up in the back seat and moaned again, accompanied by another loud, deep grumble from his stomach.
“Dale?” Jonah asked. “Is it like before?”
The zombie lifted his face to shoot Jonah a desperate look via the mirror. “This is worse. I feel really empty this time.”
“Well, why didn’t you say so?” Candy said. She unzipped a side pocket of her mysterious bag and pulled out a pack of crackers. “My dad used to say there wasn’t anything that couldn’t be fixed with crackers. Or was that duct tape? I forget.” She dangled the packet over her head, offering it to the starving man behind her.
Jonah cleared his throat and pushed Candy’s offering back into her lap. “He can’t eat that. He’s …” Jonah paused, trying to come up with a suitable lie. “He’s on a special diet.” Which wasn’t a lie. Not really.
Dale’s stomach growled in agreement.
“Oh,” Candy said. “I see. My uncle had the same problem.”
“He did?” Jonah asked.
“Yeah. IBS is a bitch to deal with. But I’m sure we can find him something to eat that won’t set his bowels a-running.”
“We better find it fast,” Dale said. “I feel like I could eat a horse.”
Jonah shuddered at the visual. “I’m sure we won’t have to go that far. Why don’t we see what’s available at the next stop? It’s getting late, anyway. We can find someplace to eat and maybe put our feet up for the night.”
“Good,” Candy said. “Because I could use a shower and bed.”
“Me, too.” Jonah thought about her words for a moment, then weighed her previous statements against them. He lost his worry for Dale in the face of a new concern. Clearing his throat, he asked, “Candy?”
“Hrm?”
“When you said you don’t have a whole lot of money …” Jonah let the question trail off, embarrassed by the idea of what he was asking.
Candy didn’t let his embarrassment linger for long. “Don’t worry, hon. Since I didn’t have to spend my last dime on that run-down clunker, I reckon I can come up with enough to get my own room.”
“I’ll buy your dinner, of course.”
“You will not,” she snapped. “I can pay my own way, thank you very much. I don’t need you to take care of me. I just need a ride. I’ll even get the next tank of gas.”
“I appreciate that, but it’s not necessary.” The words were out before he could stop them, and Jonah could have kicked himself for saying as much. They needed her gas money badly, but here he was playing the chivalrous hero. Yet there was a simple truth in his words. “We were going this way anyway.”
“Look, Jonah,” Candy said, her voice dipping into a serious tone for the first time since they had picked her up. “Let’s just get something straight right now. I don’t want to travel the whole way feeling like I owe you guys something. Something I ain’t willing to pay. Do you get me?”
At first he didn’t. He just stared at the onrushing road and mulled over her words, unsure what she meant. All at once he understood. “Oh! No! No! You don’t owe us anything. Nothing at all. Just… oh wow… umm… you don’t owe us anything. I mean, Dale is a bit of a flirt, but we really don’t expect anything from you. Not like that.”
Candy sighed, a soft, delicate sound, punctuated by Dale’s growling stomach and weak moans. “I’m sorry if I seem like a bitch, but it seems like guys always expect something like that from me.”
“No,” Jonah said. “I’m sorry you feel you have to expect that from guys. Dale and me, well, we might be a little on the weird side, but I can promise that you’re safe with us.”
Dale growled from the back seat, “If you don’t find me something to fucking eat, then neither of you will be fucking safe. Now stop making out and find me some goddamned food. Now!”
Candy craned her neck to look back at Dale. “You know, I don’t think you suffer from irritable bowel syndrome. I think you’re just irritable all over.”
Even a very hungry Dale laughed at that.
Green River was the next stop. The only stop, really. Between Salina and Gre
en River were over one hundred miles of nothing. Not a service station. Not a house. Not a thing. Just wide open highway and nothing else. Jonah supposed he was lucky Dale held out as long as he did, or else they would be on the side of the road waiting for Dale to find that horse.
A run-down Motel 6 was the first place they came to, which suited Jonah fine. Again, he didn’t care about quality or prices, just getting a few hours’ sleep. It struck him as strange that the simple act of driving could wear a person out so much. Candy recommended they go a bit farther, but Dale was very clear about his need to eat right away, snarling at her suggestion. Jonah wondered how Dale was going to do his business without attracting attention. They had to approach this cautiously. Carefully. Differently.
But first they had to ditch the girl.
No sooner had Jonah parked than Dale rolled out of the car and began to pace the blacktop, rubbing his grumbling belly and eyeing the dumpsters on either side of the lot. From the dead man’s desperate look, Jonah knew the zombie wasn’t going to last much longer without eating something. Or someone.
“Candy,” Jonah started. “I’m sure you’re tired after such a long day. Maybe we should just say goodnight here. We’ll meet you in the morning. Okay?”
“Oh,” she said, clutching her bag to her. “I was hoping we might all grab something to eat—you know, together.”
“Yeah, well, Dale and I have to unload all this stuff, anyway. I don’t like to leave luggage in the car overnight.”
