by Tara Brown
“That’s okay. Still plenty of other things to make fun of,” Owen joked, making us all smile, even Zoey.
“Shut up, Owen.”
“Get a new line, Zo.”
“Okay, kids, time to get back on the road.” Milo turned back to the driver’s seat. “Stan, you keep them in line.”
Stan lifted his head and glanced at us all.
I decided, mid smile, this was not the worst way to die, with these idiots on a quest to find something inspiring and amazing.
“So, how’d you end up in New York from Spokane?” Owen asked, clearly trying to make small talk.
“My mom actually went to NYU. She’s from the East Coast. Dad was from Seattle. When they married, they moved to Spokane—” I paused to savor the memory of the beatings Dad took over this weird little phobia. “He was afraid of earthquakes and tsunamis so he made us live in Spokane, safe from it all.”
“What do your parents do?” he continued the interview.
“Dad’s a contract project manager and my mom is a novelist.”
“Oh, what’s her name?” Zoey’s eyebrows lifted in interest.
“Corrine Wentworth.” I counted backward in my mind but barely got the first number in my head before Zoey’s eyes widened and her mouth dropped.
“No, shut up.” She clapped her hands and came to life, too excited for words. “No way! I love her.”
The test lingered on my lips but she beat me to it.
“The Reach! Ahhhhhh, best book ever. I’m not normally an action-adventure-type girl and spies don't do it for me, but her character development is comparable only to maybe Jane Austen or Ruth Rendell.”
“You’ve read Rendell?” It was my turn for my stomach to drop. All white girls read Jane Austin but hardly any knew Rendell. Miss Swan was looking up. “But you don't like crime fiction?”
“Oh, she is one of my favorite authors. She and your mother are my only two crime fiction authors.” Zoey’s cheeks blushed as she gushed, “You’ve of course read her, the inspiration of her writing is evident in your mother’s work and actually quite notable, in only good ways. I’m certainly not trying to say the Corrine Wentworth would copy someone else.”
And there she was, the girl none of us had ever met, especially Owen. He scowled but he was silent. Perhaps quieted by the fact his little awkward friend was brilliant and loquacious. We were going to be best friends. Shortest friendship on earth but maybe one for the ages.
“Look, if we’re going to do this”—I leaned in, smirking—“become apocalyptic besties and talk books, you’re Frodo and I’m Sam. I know I’m more the hero-of-the-story type, but I can’t actually stand Frodo.”
“Maybe we should be Beth and Jo March. You seem like a Jo.”
“You don't seem like a Beth.” I cocked a dark eyebrow at her. “You’re giving me Jo?”
“It’s a very ‘Beth’ thing of me to do.” She cracked a grin.
We laughed, us and Milo. No one else knew what was going on.
“My mom would have loved you,” I said, noting the tears in my eyes.
It was the first time I’d thought of them in the past tense and it hurt.
16
New York attitude
Zoey
From the window above the driver’s seat, the bed I shared with Owen in shifts, I pretended I was flying. Being on my belly with the huge window in front of me was interesting. If I were a kid, it would have been magical. But like everything else in this world, my childhood was over.
I pictured myself as a lookout as we weaved our way through some new town, passing cars and trucks that hadn’t pulled over properly. There weren’t many, but enough that the driver had to be alert.
The road wasn’t clogged and the sites weren’t impressive. We’d pulled over to see a couple of landmarks Milo and Owen recalled, but without Google or a landmark map, we didn’t know where anything was.
“I think we’re close to St. Louis,” West said softly. “I think we should just stay on this freeway, huh?”
“Freeway works for me, man. If it’s my turn to drive, I don't want to be on some back road trying to find my way.” Owen was chipper. Their conversation continued, but my eyes closed.
I dreamt of things from before. Things like running through the sprinkler and the way the water made a rainbow in the sunshine. Or listening to Owen laugh so loud he blocked out everything else in the world. And somehow the memory of Westley walking up to me after the game crept into my last dream. I smelled the Gatorade in the air from the buckets that got dumped on Owen in celebration. But West strayed from the crowd, coming right for me, his hands and arms, dirty and grass stained, trembled as he lifted them to my cheeks. He stared for a heartbeat before lowering his face and kissing me. I didn’t fight it. By the time it was over, I was kissing back, my hands holding his face to mine. The world went silent and he pulled back, the sound turning on the moment he spun and rushed back into the thick of things, eaten up by the crowd.
When I woke, I felt the sun on my skin, the mist of Gatorade from the spray, and the taste of that kiss. I blinked and it was gone.
I missed it the moment I was in the real world again.
The RV coasted along the highway and there were no signs of life anywhere. The headlights were two spotlights leading the way through what seemed to be an abandoned suburb.
“Where are we?” I asked as I climbed down, rubbing my eyes. It was hard to see with the dim overhead light on.
“About an hour out of Kansas City. I’m going to need gas. Which sucks because every gas station I’ve seen looks scary as hell.”
“Really?”
“Yeah. I left the highway when I saw a sign for gas, but no way. People fighting at the first one. Some huge guy had another man on the ground. Then the next one had a lineup of cars, waiting to get gas, so big it wrapped around the block. And everyone was yelling.” Westley wrinkled his nose. “It was creepy. Like a movie.”
“What are we gonna do?”
“I don't know. But Owen found a map in the drawer, so that’s a score.” Westley gave me a side-glance as he crinkled a paper map. It reminded me of a relic from a movie. “If we end up running out of gas, we can walk and figure out where we are.”
“Walk?” I asked, noticing that Milo, Celeste, and Rozzy were all still sleeping.
“Yeah.” He yawned and blinked hard. “Think you could drive after we get gas?”
“Maybe.” I wanted to say no. The RV was scary but it wasn’t fair for me to not do my share. Celeste, Owen, and Milo had all done theirs. Rozzy couldn't drive so no one wanted her turn. I could, not amazingly, but well enough to get us along a freeway.
“It’s easier than ya think.” Westley sounded as tired as he looked. “And you have to go slow to get good mileage.”
“Okay.”
“You have the worst poker face ever, Zoey.” He chuckled.
“I know. Elaine always knows when I’m lying.” I nestled between the captain’s chairs and watched out the massive windshield. It was obvious we were closer to Kansas City by the increased number of cars in the ditches or just stopped in the middle of the road.
Westley maneuvered around them, slowing down a lot so he could see the next one ahead.
“This is creepy at night.” My body had pins and needles.
“Very creepy. Reminds me of a zombie movie. Except there are no zombies.”
“Except you,” I joked.
“I am a zombie.” He yawned again.
“What do you think it’ll be like in a city?” We had avoided all cities so far.
“I don't know.” He bit his lip, not trying to hide the fear on his face. “If I had to guess I’d say it’s bad. People acting crazy and looting. The number of dead is probably out of control. Lots of garbage and gross things.”
My stomach started to hurt. “Maybe we should forget going to the city for gas and just go around it. There has to be other gas stations.”
“Okay.” West nodded. “I�
�ll get back on the freeway just up here and detour the city. Unless I see a gas station before.”
“Okay.”
I didn't take my eyes off the road, matching his stare of intensity as he slowly made his way through the cars, trucks, and vans with dead people at the steering wheels or doors open.
The headlights randomly flashed on a face or a scene I didn't want to see. People left behind or moved so looters could rifle through their belongings now that they were dead.
We passed suburbs and exit signs, but there were no streetlights or markers of any kind.
“If we get desperate, we can abandon the big rig and steal cars. I’m sure all the cars on the side of the road with the dead in them have gas,” Westley said like it was nothing.
Owen stirred, yawning and stretching. “What?” He smacked his lips together and blinked.
“Oh, I was just saying that the gas stations I’ve seen have been messy. So if we run out of gas, we can just steal cars from the dead.”
It wasn't better a second time.
“Oh, good call.” Owen sniffed, rubbing his eyes. “As the weeks move on and the death toll rises, cars with gas in them will be the one thing we won’t have trouble finding.”
“No, man. It’s grim but it’s the one good thing.”
They sounded insane.
It might have been one the most disgusting conversations I'd ever been part of.
“At least we won’t have to live here. With the mess.” Owen stared out the window into the dark as we passed by streets with no lights or life anywhere.
None of us said anything. No one wanted to focus on the positive part of everyone in the world dying off.
It was the thirties this week. In six days.
The thought that Elaine was going to die in less than a week was killing me, silently. If there were any tears in me at all, they’d never stop falling the moment she died. I’d pent up too much about her. Too much unresolved anger and pain and words I should’ve said when I had the chance. But now they were useless. I hadn’t even bothered to journal them.
My legs started to get fuzzy and heavy.
If I didn't see the road in front of us, I would’ve sworn we’d driven into a lake and water was filling the RV.
My blinking was slow, almost stilled by the fuzz.
My mother was going to die alone and I would be an orphan. And then I would die alone like she did. And not one person would be left to care I was gone. And no one really cared that I was alive.
“No one will care.” The whispered words tasted bitter, but I couldn't keep them in.
“What?” Owen asked.
“Nothing,” I whispered again, trying desperately to come back from the haze and fuzziness.
Owen turned, wincing when his eyes met mine. “Hey, it’s okay.” He got up, lifting me and walking us both to the table to sit. “It’s okay.”
“What?” I asked, confused. I hadn’t noticed the blood running down my arm until his hand covered the wound. It stung then. “I’m sorry.” I lowered my head in shame.
“For what?” He spoke like he was smiling but I couldn't look.
What if Celeste or Milo or Rozzy saw? “For being—me,” I answered sharply.
“You okay?” Westley asked after a minute.
“Yeah, she’s just getting lost in thought again. Zoey likes to daydream.” Owen grinned wide, some of it was an act and some of it was an attempt at making my being mental a small thing. He covered my arm with a cloth from a drawer and sighed as he pulled down the sleeve I’d dragged up unconsciously. “You aren’t alone, so stop thinking about it.”
I nodded but it was a lie.
“Hey, look!” Westley shouted, waking everyone with a jolt. “Lights! Holy shit, it’s a gas station with power.” He pulled over with a swerve, sending us all swaying and wobbling around.
The light from it was so bright, it was blinding. One brightly lit gas station with a couple of cars gassing up shouldn't have seemed weird. But it was. I didn’t trust it.
“Lotus-eaters,” I whispered.
Owen and Westley hooted and hollered as the RV slowed down and pulled up to the empty pump. On the other side, a man with shifty eyes watched us as he pumped gas into his car. A woman and a girl sat in the car he was pumping gas into. Both of them appeared worried.
On the pump next to ours there was a woman putting gas in a truck. The man next to her was watching us.
“I can’t believe this place is here. It’s like a mirage.” Westley got out excitedly.
“You guys want me to see if they have any candy? I need some chocolate.” Owen beamed as he grabbed the door handle.
“Those people look sketchy,” I whispered.
“The world is ending. Everyone looks sketchy,” Rozzy said as she climbed off the bed and came and stood next to me.
“Candy will make you feel better.” Owen winked and closed the door.
Through the window we watched as a man came from inside the gas station to Westley. Everything about him represented the world ahead of us.
The shotgun in his hands matched the hateful expression on his face. “Cash first.”
Westley pulled money from his pocket and held it out.
The man reached forward slowly, taking it. His eyes darted to me in the window. He smiled and everything in the world felt dirty and wrong. My stomach ached.
“Don't break eye contact. Show him what you’re made of,” Rozzy whispered so lightly I barely heard her. “Pretend you have some New York attitude, and you’ll fuck him up if he even makes a move. You are imagining beating the shit outta him right now. Smashing his pervert face into the ground.”
Doing as she said, I refused to look away. She was right, he was a predator. And if I looked away, it would be telling him I was weak and afraid. I was those things, but I didn't want him to see it.
The world was fuzzy.
My legs were completely heavy.
But I didn't look away.
So we stared.
It was a contest to see how weak I was.
I won because Westley tapped the man on the shoulder, forcing him to glance back, breaking our stare off.
Westley’s eyes darted to mine and his eyes showed the fear I should’ve projected, but I had Rozzy coaching me.
It was a tense moment until Owen shouted at the man from the door, breaking the anxiety like he always did, “Hey, buddy! I want to buy some of that candy. You selling it or what? It ain’t going nowhere once we’re all dead.”
Westley watched the man a moment longer before he turned and started pumping the gas.
The people in the car left.
No one outside spoke to one another.
The lady with the man and the truck gave Rozzy and I a look as she climbed back in. She swallowed hard, hesitating for a couple of seconds. I had a terrible feeling she wanted to tell us something, but the man grabbed her arm and she lost the courage she was mustering. She climbed into the truck and they left.
And we were alone with the creepy guy with the gun.
“I’m going to shoot him in the fucking face if he even breathes this way,” Rozzy growled, continuing to stare in his direction.
“Easy, Roz.” Celeste climbed off the bed as Milo held Stan back. He and Roz both had the same snarl.
Owen, completely oblivious to the danger of the world, came out with a massive paper bag and a grin. When he got close to the RV, I began to breathe again with a gasp.
Owen climbed in, letting Celeste and Roz climb out with Milo so Stan could sniff and take a pee. The man with the gun stayed inside the store, which was smart. Between Rozzy and the dog, his odds of surviving being creepy weren’t great.
Everyone was stretching and talking and the tense moment was over.
Owen sighed, annoyed. “You have to stop, seriously.”
“What?” I glanced down at my arm seeing my fingernails were digging in again. “Oh shit.” I was still hazy and thick. I pulled the sleeve down, battling the horrib
le twinge in my stomach.
“You need to learn how to yoga breathe, Zo. Coach swears by it. He teaches us all.” Owen offered me a licorice.
I held it, but I didn't take a bite.
When Westley climbed into the RV, he had a weird expression on his face. “That guy gives me the creeps.” He lifted my hand and took a bite of my licorice.
“Me too,” I agreed, feeding him the candy absentmindedly.
“What guy?” Owen turned and scanned out the window, a rope of licorice in his lips.
Celeste and Roz got back inside, followed by Stan and Milo.
“We need to get outta here, like now. That guy’s a pervert,” Rozzy sneered. “I hate perverts.”
“Who?” Owen was so lost.
“Doesn't matter.” Celeste smiled and peered into the bag. “What’d ya get?”
“Awesomeness,” Owen said and dumped the contents as Milo climbed into the driver’s seat and West snuggled into the back bunk. His eyes didn't leave mine as he patted the mattress next to him. My stomach danced with nerves as I contemplated climbing into the bunk and snuggling him. But Stan saw my chance and jumped in, taking up half the bed. West laughed, making me smile, though I was a bit shocked he wanted to snuggle me.
Milo started up the RV and pulled out quickly, us leaving behind the only lights we’d seen in hours. Everyone dug into the candy but me and West.
His smile faded and the worry that was on his face before came back.
He had seen evil just as Roz and I did.
“I’m going north, avoiding Kansas City.” Milo took an exit.
“All right, man. The people at this gas station did seem a bit intense. I don't think it’ll get better near the cities.” Owen shrugged as we passed by a group of young people looting through a car on the side of the road.
Absentmindedly, I ate the licorice, though I wasn't anywhere near hungry.
As everyone else settled into a spot, Owen took our bunk, Rozzy and Celeste climbed into the top bunk, and Milo drove, I agonized over where to go. The top bunk wasn't huge, so Owen and I would be squished in, me smelling him and the way his deodorant mixed with his natural body odor. Or I could turn the table area into a bed, but that seemed like a lot of work.
