Read Online Dead Highways: Origins by Richard Brown - Free Book Online

on our faces.
    I reached the end of the road and Naima instructed me to turn right onto Highway 520. The good news was we were heading further from the center of town. The bad news was it seemed everyone else had the same idea, at least before they went into a coma. The highway was jam-packed with cars.
    “Look at this mess,” I said. “Everyone must have panicked. Tried to flee the city.” I looked over at Naima. “I’d keep an eye out for your dad. It’s possible he never made it home.”
    “I am. And don’t say that.”
    Many of the cars cluttering up the highway were large trucks, military, or police vehicles. I had to drive partially on the median just to get through. Unfortunately, that all ended a half mile down the road.
    “Do you guys see this?”
    “Oh, my God,” Peaches whispered. “That’s . . . that’s awful.”
    An eighteen-wheeler lay across the median, turned onto its side, blocking the way forward. Smoke lightly billowed out from under the hood. Two cars had followed the truck into the trench, both upside down with their tires to the sky.
    As we rolled closer, I saw someone lying face down in the grass, near one of the overturned cars.
    I stopped the Buick and put it in park. Looked around. I didn’t want to go back the way we came. There had to be a way forward.
    “What do we do now?” Naima asked.
    “Stay here,” I said, and exited the car.
    The air outside still carried an undercurrent of electricity. It looked like storm clouds might be moving in from the west. The occasional gusts of cool wind concurred.
    I slowly walked up to the body lying in the grass. It was a man. Short, dark hair. Brown skin. I prayed it wasn’t Aamod, for Naima’s sake. I leaned down and turned him over.
    Whew.
    Not Aamod. Not even Indian. A white guy, middle-aged, with a fabulously dark tan. Probably spent half his life wasting away at the beach, growing reptile skin. There was blood from his chin to his chest, soaking his shirt. Fresh blood. The accident couldn’t have happened that long ago. Maybe overnight. But he was still breathing. He had crawled out from under one of the flipped cars and made it this far before the infection beat him, before his world went dark.
    I recalled the early symptoms.
    Fatigue.
    Loss of motor control.
    Blurred vision.
    Not good things to experience when behind the wheel. This guy was lucky he wasn’t crushed, even if one of his knees seemed to be bent the wrong direction.
    I stood up, feeling helpless. I looked back over at the Buick. Peaches and Naima were now standing outside the car.
    “He’s alive,” I shouted. “But like the others.”
    “Is there anything we can do?” Peaches shouted back.
    “Not for him, no.” I scanned the mess of twisted metal encircling me. “We’re gonna have to turn around and go back. Find another way through.”
    And so we did.
    I backed the car up until I could safely turn around. Although it didn’t matter anymore, I was still extra careful not to get a ding on my grandma’s Buick. She loved the car as much as I hated it.
    I was able to turn right at the first intersection we came upon. So I did.
    “We’re gonna have to stick to the roads less travelled. I have a feeling all the highways will be like that one.”

Chapter 15
     
    We made it to Naima’s house a little behind schedule, even though the back roads weren’t nearly as clogged as the highway. I was able to weave through the maze of sleeping drivers without putting a scratch on grandma’s Buick.
    I pulled into the driveway. Naima’s house was small and old, but at least it wasn’t on fire like some of the homes we’d already passed. Rain might not be such a bad thing after all. The lawn was well manicured compared to the rest of the houses on the block, and the carport wasn’t being used to hold piles and piles of useless junk. There was actually a car in there. A red minivan. Not Aamod’s Toyota.
    “That’s my mom’s car,” Naima said as I put the Buick in