Bad idea.
I jammed the gas again and bulldozed through them with such ease Robinson would cry tears of joy.
Upon clearing a path to the Tire Kingdom, I swore I heard gunfire. And not just one or two shots. Repeated gunfire.
I skidded to a stop next to Peaches. She opened the passenger door and leapt inside. I wasted no time putting the pedal back to the metal. The swarm of infected continued to chase after us like we had Justin Bieber tied up in the back.
God, how I wished that were true.
“How’s Olivia?” Peaches asked, reaching into the backseat.
“Hopefully not too shaken up,” I said, watching Peaches pull the baby into her lap. “Did you hear gunshots?”
“Yeah,” Peaches said, still trying to catch her breath. “The shots were coming from across the street. It must be them. I guess that means the plan worked … even if I almost died.”
She smiled at me, still breathing heavily.
“Isn’t the first time you’ve almost died,” I said.
“No, it’s becoming a regular thing.”
“At least you still have your glow.”
“It’s called sweat, and you’ve got it too.”
“Hell, I was sweating bullets.”
I pulled out on to Narcoossee and crossed the median again, heading directly for the Walgreens parking lot. The fires had all went out, but the remnants of the battle remained. Bodies littered the lot, many still alive. I swerved around them and pulled alongside the front entrance of the store. One of the doors had become unhinged, the glass spotted with jagged bullet holes.
“Do you see them?” I asked.
Peaches stared out the passenger window, her big blonde head of curly hair blocking much of my view.
“Nope. And if they’re still inside, they’ve got company.”
A steady stream of infected coasted around the SUV and disappeared through the broken door.
Another round of gunfire rang out. Loud. Very close by.
“Must be coming from inside,” I said,
“I don’t know. I still can’t see anything. It’s too dark in there.”
“I’ll go in,” I said, throwing the car in park and reaching around for the rifle. “I still got a few shots left.”
“Are you crazy? You can’t go in there. It’s too dangerous. You could be shot.”
More gunfire. This time it sounded further away. Then came the sound of screeching tires from somewhere behind us.
We both turned to look out the back windshield. For a moment, there was only the dark shadow of faces as the infected continued to pass us by. Then I saw lights appear on the road that ran beside the Walgreens, followed closely by the other SUV identical to ours, quickly gaining speed.
“Never mind,” I said, flipping the car back into drive. “There they go.”
Without slowing down, the SUV drifted out on to Narcoossee, its tires crying out for mercy as they skipped against the pavement.
“They must not have seen us,” Peaches said. “They don’t know we’re here.”
“Then we’ll have to catch them,” I said, turning the car around.
I hoped that all my experience driving my grandma’s big behemoth had helped prepare me for this moment. Judging by the way our twin had taken that last corner—without even the slightest tap on the brakes—Robinson was likely behind the wheel. And there, he was a professional maniac.
I’d have my work cut out for me.
I slammed my foot on the gas. “Hang on.”
“They’re probably heading back to the highway,” I said, flying down Narcoossee, having left behind a wave of infected in my wake.
Peaches had both arms wrapped tight around Olivia like she was a good luck charm. “Be careful.”
“Hopefully they’ll slow down soon.”
“I can barely see their brake lights anymore. You should turn on the high beams.”
I took her advice. The added light wouldn’t help keep Robinson and company in my sights, but it might keep us from rear-ending a parked police car and soaring through the windshield to our deaths.
“They’re turning right,” Peaches said.
I nodded. “Just like I thought. They’re getting on the highway. Going west.”
I slowed down to take the on ramp. Not slow enough for Peaches.
“Jimmy, be careful,” she said again. She took one hand off Olivia and grabbed hold of the oh shit handle.
“I am. If I go any slower, we’ll never catch them. You know Robinson’s used to speeding … he’s a cop.”
On the highway, I increased speed, getting up to eighty miles per hour. Occasionally we’d lose the red of their brake lights around a bend, and then catch up with them again a mile later. When we reached I-4 ten miles further west, the distance between us closed instantly.
“They’re slowing down,” Peaches said.
I had already begun easing on to the brakes. “Actually, I think they’ve stopped.”
As we rolled closer, losing speed, I realized why.
Once again, the military had come out to play and left their big toys scattered all over the highway.
“Well, I don’t think we’re getting on to the interstate,” I said. “But at least we caught them. You can relax now.”
Peaches glanced over at me blank faced. “We can never relax … ever … again.”
Touché.
Just as I came up behind our car twin, the driver’s side door opened and Robinson stepped out into the wide spray of our headlights. I immediately cut off the high beams to save his eyes some pain.
“Jimmy?” he said, squinting into the light.
“It’s me,” I said, getting out of the car.
“Holy shit, it is you!” He jogged over and gave me a big bear hug. Chubby people always give the best hugs. “You made it!”
“Not quite on time.”
“That’s okay. We thought you were dead.”
I smirked. “Had a few close calls.”
Robinson finally stopped hugging me. The others—Bowser, Aamod, Naima, and Ted—all got out of the SUV and walked over.
“Look who’s alive,” Robinson said, turning to acknowledge them.
Bowser stuck out a hand. “Glad you’re not dead, Jimmy.”
“Likewise.” I shook his hand. “You want a hug too?”
Bowser smiled. “No, I’m good.”
“Okay, well you let me know if you change your mind.”
Aamod and Naima walked up next. Naima’s hug didn’t contain quite as much enthusiasm as Robinson’s had, but at least she didn’t stop five feet away and give me the evil eyes—like her father. Yeah, real shocker, Aamod wasn’t happy to see me. Aamod was never happy to see me. He still had his trusty shotgun in his hands, held down by his waist.
“You’re not gonna shoot me, are you?” I asked.
“No, why?”
“Because you look like you want to.”
Aamod neither confirmed nor denied my suspicions. All he did was walk away.
Walk.
Away.
Clearly, we still had a lot of work to do before we’d be anything resembling friends. But when he was good and ready, I’d give that man the best darn hug imaginable. He sure needed one.
“Glad you made it. How’s the Glock been treating you?” Ted asked, shaking my hand.
“You mean Sally,” Robinson chimed in.
“She’s saved my life … a few times.”
Ted nodded. “Well, that’s what they’re good for.”
Behind me, the passenger door opened and Peaches stepped out of the SUV. She had Olivia wrapped up in her arms.
“Hey,” Robinson said. “I was about to ask about you … and the baby. I didn’t see you hiding in there.”
“Sorry, Olivia needed to be changed.”
“No problem. It’s good to see you.” Naima took the baby from Peaches so Robinson could give out another one of his super duper hugs.
“We almost didn’t make it
in time,” Peaches said.
“Yeah, we got a little held up at the Walgreens. You should have seen the herd parked outside. They had the place walled off. We were trapped inside for most of the day.”
“Yeah, we know,” I said. “And you’re welcome.”
“Wait … so that was your work?”
“I can’t believe you didn’t see us,” Peaches said.
“Or hear us,” I added. “I must have shot fifty rounds into that crowd.”
“We definitely heard the gunshots,” Ted said. “But I don’t think any of us wanted to hang around and find out who was doing the shootin’. Bad enough the infected were trying to burn the place down.”
“No, that was us again.”
“Me, actually,” Peaches said.
“I … helped. It was my idea.”
“That’s true,” Peaches conceded.
“And we weren’t trying to burn the place down.”
“Good God, you guys are something else,” Robinson said, clasping a hand on my shoulder. “I still can’t believe you’re standing here right now.”
“That makes two of us,” I said.
After another minute of bullshitting and passing the baby around to poke at, we all put our serious faces back on. Well, to be fair, Aamod never took his off.
“We should probably get a move on,” Ted said. “Don’t you think?”
Robinson gazed off toward the interstate, beyond the barrier of military vehicles. “Don’t see a way through. We might have to do like we did at the toll plaza.”
“Change up vehicles?”
Robinson nodded. “Maybe. Jimmy and I will go scout ahead. See if we can find a vehicle. You guys stay here and keep your eyes open. Be ready to leave when we return.”
“I’m gonna go ahead and shut off the headlights then,” Ted said. “We don’t need to broadcast our position.”
“You got your radio on?”
Ted checked the walkie-talkie clipped on to his belt. A solid red light indicated it was powered on.
“When did you get those?” Peaches asked.
“Took them with us when we left my place,” Ted said. “Forgot to grab batteries though, so we didn’t get them up and running till we got to Walgreens.”
Robinson held down the talk button on his walkie and said, “Radio check.” Then released the button. “What’s the range on these, you know?”
“Supposed to be five or six miles,” Ted replied. “But I can’t say I’ve ever tested them that far.”
“I hope we’re not going that far anyway,” I said.
“No, not right now,” Robinson said, examining the radio. “But it’s good to know the range, for future reference. These look pretty nice actually.”
Ted slid into the driver’s seat of their SUV and flipped off the headlights. It took a moment for my eyes to adjust to the sudden lack of light.
Ted shuffled back over. “Well, I guess just yell into the radio if you see something.”
“I’ll let you know,” Robinson said.
I took Sally out of her holster, signifying I was ready to go.
I followed Robinson away from the group, twisting through rows of military humvee’s and other larger trucks that I assumed were some type of supply or troop transport vehicles. As we walked, I constantly checked my surroundings, left, right, left, including the not-so-occasional glance back to make sure no one was behind me. I was paranoid, and for good reason. If the last few days had taught me anything, it was that danger was only a second away. So I made it a point to be aware of everything around me. If I let my guard down for even a moment, that might be my last. Nicole found out all too well.
We stopped when we reached the I-4 on ramp. Overhead was a sign indicating which way was east and which way was west, for the navigation impaired—like me. Two police cars were parked side-by-side blocking both ramps. Orange road cones, spaced every few yards apart, trailed off in both directions.
Robinson checked all the doors on the police cruisers. “Damn. Locked.”
“Is that strange?” I whispered.
“Nah. These were just left here as a deterrent. Dummy cars. The officers they belonged to probably went off on some other errand.”
“You’d think the military would be enough of a deterrent.”
“I’d say these were left out here prior to the military showing up.” Robinson turned and looked down both the east and west ramp. “There might be some civilian cars up ahead. Just got to hope the interstate isn’t overrun.”
We headed down the east on ramp, thinking the eastbound side of I-4 might be less crowded. And not with cars, but with infected. For whatever reason, the less civil among us had so far demonstrated a strong desire to head west. Where, exactly, remained to be seen. From Florida, the large, flaccid penis shaped state on the southeast of the United States, west could mean just about anywhere. Were they going to the gulf coast, or perhaps somewhere much further, like California over two thousand miles away? Did they even have a destination? Maybe they’d just walk west until they hit water and then turn around and come back. Then do it all over again. It was possible, but my Spidey senses were tingling, telling me there was something more going on, something bigger, some greater plan at work.
Did I mention I was paranoid?
All those years spent feeding my imagination and all I had to show for it was a never-ending supply of massive brain dumps.
Halfway down, as the ramp veered sharply to the right, we came upon a bushy area of overgrown trees.
Robinson stopped suddenly. “Do you hear that?”
“Yeah. What is it?”
We stood very still and listened intently. The air was calm, no wind, making the sound come through loud and clear. What the sound was, however, was a mystery to me, but there was no doubt it was coming from the direction of I-4.
“This way,” Robinson said, leading us off the concrete path and alongside the thick brush. It was a shortcut to the interstate, and as we drew closer, I began to see cars take shape out of the darkness. Parked cars. I also saw human shapes—far too many to count—producing the sound we heard, shambling between the abandoned vehicles, heading…
Northeast?
Robinson stopped suddenly again. No doubt, he saw the infected too. Then he kneeled next to the bushes, convincing me to do the same.
“Ted,” Robinson spoke softly into the radio receiver. “You there?”
A few seconds later, Ted responded. “You okay?”
“Yeah, we’re fine,” Robinson answered back. “We made it to the interstate … or pretty close to it.”
“What do you see?”
“Well … lots of cars. It looks like they were a little late shutting down I-4. It’s possible we could blaze a path down the median, but it won’t be easy. The interstate is crawling with infected.”
I didn’t see anyone actually crawling—it did look like there were many either sleeping or dead—but I liked Robinson’s choice of words nonetheless.
“It’s your call,” Ted said.
Robinson lowered the radio and appeared to be weighing his options. Finally, he raised the receiver and said, “I think I’m gonna get a closer look.”
Great! Just what I wanted to hear.
“Be careful,” Ted said.
“Will do. Y’all okay for now?”
“Yep. All clear here.”
“Copy.” Robinson clipped the radio back on to his belt and looked back at me. “You can stay back if you want.”
Great! Just what I wanted to hear.
“I’ll try not to shoot you in the back,” I said.
“I’d appreciate it if you didn’t. Thanks.”
Robinson drew his sidearm and waddled, bent over, closer to the interstate. I continued my usual check of the surroundings, left, right, left, back. I kept Sally lowered on the off chance that a small animal might scamper out of the overgrowth and scare the bejesus out of me, causing a premature evacuation. I told Robinson I would try not to shoot h
im in the back, and I was a man of my word.
He stopped waddling about thirty yards in front of me, at the edge of the trees. I was surprised he chanced getting that close, even if none of the infected seemed to take notice of him. He sat there for a good minute staring up and down the interstate, and then turned around and waddled back.
“So…”
“There’s a lot of them,” Robinson said. “Hundreds. Maybe thousands.”
“Thousands? Holy fuck,” I whispered. “Pardon my French.”
“There’s no way we’re getting on the interstate. It’s way too dangerous.”
“We’ll have to find another way.”
Robinson glanced back out at the interstate. “Weird thing was … I’d say at least half of them were lying on the ground. Dead, I guess. I don’t understand that.”
“Could be sleeping.”
“Really? Sleeping?”
“You haven’t seen it before?”
“No, have you?”
“Yeah, last night, after we got separated in the woods. Some of the infected on the highway were asleep. I know because I woke one on accident. I had thought he was dead at first too.”
“I guess it makes sense, right. Even if their minds are gone, they’re still human. They have to rest. They can’t walk around forever.”
“That reminds me,” I whispered. “When you left Ted’s this morning, did you go down the street where I wrecked my grandma’s Buick?” Robinson nodded. “Were the bodies still out in the road?”
“The dead ones. Of course. Why?”
“Because most were gone when we went through around lunchtime.”
“What do you mean … gone?”
“As in, they weren’t there anymore. Gone. And the remaining ones, around six I believe, had been eaten.”
“That’s … odd.”
“I thought so too. But I think I know what happened to them. I should say, I know I know.”
“What?”
When the infected die, I wanted to say, they don’t stay dead. But I didn’t get the chance.
Ted spoke over the radio. “Robinson, come in!”
Robinson unclipped the radio from his belt and held the talk button. “What’s up?”
Ted took an uncomfortable second or two to reply. “We’ve got a problem,” he said, his voice wavering. The radio picked up a good amount of unintelligible background noise.
Dead Highways (Book 2): Passage Page 8
