10. Home on the Highway

"Thank you," Coach told them, leaning forward in his seat and placing his hands on his knees. "Thank you both…so much."

"Sure," Nick said and shot him a glance. He noticed with real humor that this fellow took up just about all of the rear seat. Nick was glad, though, glad to know there were still others than himself and Julie. Folk that were still alive and sane and healthy. Well, you could probably argue that this burly black was beyond your ideal standard of healthy, but he was alive with his psyche intact. That was all that really mattered to Nick. And he supposed that this was no time to pick and choose, anyway.

"No…really," Coach began, still panting. "Appreciate it."

"Sure," Nick repeated. He turned to Julianne and grinned, and she gave him a bit of a nervous smile. Nick unbuckled himself and turned again, now facing Coach. He was breathing in short little gasps, and Nick was convinced that this man was on the verge of losing it. A thought occurred to him: What if this guy ends up having a heart attack, stroke, or something in here? It's not going to do us any good lugging his corpse around.

"You…you okay? You're holding in there?" Nick asked.

"Yeah. Just. Just go."

"You're sur—"

"Yeah. Start driving."

Nick put it in drive, stomped the accelerator, and the Lexus lurched forward. Within seconds they were cruising steadily down a street that seemed, for the most part, empty.

"So, what's your name?" Nick said, his eyes glued to the road.

"Coach," he said.

"Is that…the first or the last?" Nick asked, genuinely curious.

"Just Coach."

"All right, well, I'm Nick. This is Julie."

Nick paused. He was expecting Julianne to say something, a reactionary comment of sorts, after mentioning her name, but she said nothing.

"Again," Coach said. "I'm glad to meet you both."

Coach offered up his hand, extending it across the console. Although to Nick this seemed to be more customary than practical in this cramped cabin. In his peripheral, he saw that Julianne had taken the man's hand. And he could hear—though sounding distant, as if he was eavesdropping—them exchanging the obligatory introductions.

That was good, he thought, really good. Because it struck him sort of funny: Julianne hadn't wanted to stop.

They had seen Coach huddled over the sidewalk, as if praying, a building bellowing smoke not far behind him. Keep going, Nick, Julianne had said. Don't stop for him. Please. While Nick considered his own moral compass long since broken, he knew he couldn't have done that. After all of this destruction, all of this death, to add another to the list of casualties would be…

I should tell him, Nick thought suddenly. Tell him she wanted to look the other way. Tell him she just wanted to leave you there…but…what good is that going to do? If anything, that'd wind up making their situation worse. So he decided to keep this bit to himself.

Nick supposed he was frustrated with Julie, that was all.

Since he'd met Julianne in the park, she'd gone from seemingly independent (the sort of person he felt deserved sympathy; she'd lost two people very dear to her, after all) to downright useless, catatonic even.

When they had been walking down Castillo Avenue, a few miles from the park, he'd had to practically carry her. She had suddenly refused to walk, answering his pleas to keep moving in brief, undignified responses. Like a bitter child that hadn't gotten her way. Not only had she been risking her own life, she had been risking his as well. That had angered him. That had really pissed him off, and he'd truly considered leaving her, leaving her in the middle of the road among all of the wrecked cars and corpses. Had he gone through with it, well, he would've wound up no better than her for later wanting to leave Coach. But after some time, he'd gotten her to move. All it had taken was a hand clamped around her wrist and a couple of good tugs.

Although Nick could easily see why this transformation had taken place, he still hated it. He hated people who couldn't hold their own—if they were capable of doing so, that is, and she had seemed pretty damn capable. Yes, the situation was absolutely horrific and shocking. Yes, it was unimaginable, but still. This shouldn't be the time to buckle. At least not yet.

"What happened?" Coach said. He seemed to lower his voice on the second word. "I mean, what is all this shit?"

They passed a strip mall, the storefront windows shattered, the broken glass glittering like a spray of gems.

"The end of times," Nick said and offered a little nod. "That's what it's looking like to me."

"No," Julianne said, catching both Nick and Coach off guard. "It's not. Not at all."

"Huh?"

"This," she said. "…This is just a transition."

"Not so sure about that, hon," Nick said and turned sharply to the right, swinging the Lexus around more stalled cars blocking an intersection.

"And these people. What's wrong with these people?" Coach continued, as if Julianne hadn't spoken.

"I don't know," Nick admitted. "I, or I mean we, we haven't seen anyone in a while, though. That matters the most. Right Julie?"

She looked at him with dull eyes and said nothing.

"Guess so." Coach answered.

"Yeah, well…" Nick said and trailed off. "I can't really say myself. What's happened to them, I mean. Julie thinks it's like a flu or a parasite or something. I don't know. I guess I agree with it. Everybody who's been sick, they ended up changing, or so we're guessing."

"Lots of people been sick lately. Calling off, staying home." Coach noted.

"Yeah. So I, we, decided on trying for Atlanta."

"Why? What's there?"

"The Center for Diseases...Disease Control. Julie thinks they might be able to, you know, deal with stuff like this."

Nick had to give Julie credit; this was all her plan, even if he wasn't entirely hopeful of its premise. He glanced over at her. Her eyes were closed. Trying to sleep, he hoped.

"Sounds good to me."

"Ah, shit."

Nick eased the Lexus to a halt.

"Look."

They did, all three of them. They had come to a stop near a freeway on-ramp. The ramp, as well as the highway itself, was choked crazily with bereaved vehicles. Only some had actually crashed, Nick saw, others had apparently been stopped and left behind as their drivers had fled. Fled from either the crazy people, or simply left due to the fact that this artery for escape was no longer accessible by car.

Although his heart said otherwise, Nick didn't want to do the same. If they wanted to find another way, they'd have to retrace their steps, and this was currently one of the most convenient—possibly even safest—ways leading to the I-16. And just how many other on-ramps and turn-offs back there were blocked by eternal traffic jams as well?

"So, what'd you guys think?" Nick asked. "We, obviously, can't drive through this."

"We can walk," Julie said softly.

That's better, Nick thought. She's actually contributing.

"Yeah, yeah." Coach said. "I don't know. Going back ain't looking so good right about now. Could be the same all over. We can get over these cars here just fine. Then we keep going on the highway, it clears up, and we get another car."

"I…I have no objections either way, if you do end up wanting to go around. You know, look for another way." Nick said.

"I don't see anyone." Julie said matter-of-factly.

"You never know. They could be hid—"

"No," Coach said. "Don't think so either. They don't strike me as the hiding type."

"All right," Nick said. "Is that what you guys really want?"

He looked at Julie. She nodded quickly, her auburn hair bouncing a little, that glazed look in her eyes gone. Of that, he was glad.

Then Nick looked at Coach. Coach gave him a half-shrug and said yes.

"Well, then. Let's get going."