Free Take the Long Way Home by Brian Keene Page B

guys,” the cop said. “Really, I am. I’d like to help you. But I can’t. I’ve got to stay.”
    Charlie and Frank both checked their pockets. I stared at Terri’s picture.
    “I’ve got forty,” Charlie said. “Frank?”
    “Thirty-seven. How about it, Officer? That’s almost one hundred and forty bucks.”
    “And,” I added, “I can write you a check for more when we get there.”
    He paused, and I thought that maybe we’d convinced him. But then he sighed.
    “I’m sorry. I’m just going to stay here.”
    “But why?” I asked, frustrated.
    “I’m afraid to go back out there. Afraid of what I’ll see. Good luck. Hope you make it home safe.”
    We didn’t argue with him. Instead, we started off again. I cast one glance over my shoulder and he was still sitting there, slumped behind the wheel and crying. His sobs echoed through the night.
    It was a lonely sound.
    I knew how he felt. I’d missed my wife during the entire journey, but at that moment, it became a solid, tangible thing, swelling deep inside my gut and threatening to explode. My eyes started watering again, and this time it had nothing to do with smoke or fumes. My lips felt numb.
    “Thanks, guys,” I said, my voice cracking.
    Charlie tilted his head from side to side, cracking his neck. “For what?”
    “For coming along with me. For not letting me do this alone.”
    “Safety in numbers, remember?” Charlie winked. “And besides, this is just an extension of our carpool.”
    “And I needed the exercise.” Frank grinned. “Doctor’s always on me to do more walking. Well, he got his fucking wish.”
    His laughter was infectious. We walked together, side by side down the center of the road, and when the darkness swallowed us up, we didn’t notice.
    8
    We reached Hereford, which would have been Exit 27 had we stayed on the interstate. It was a small town, no industries or shopping centers, and only a single bar. The streets were empty, no traffic or pedestrians. Televisions flickered in the windows of some of the homes, but many more were dark and lifeless. Everything looked yellow in the sodium lights that lined the sidewalk.
    “I don’t know about you guys,” Frank wheezed, “but I need something to drink.”
    His face was as pale as cottage cheese, and his clothing was completely drenched with sweat.
    “You okay?” I asked, concerned. “You don’t look so good.”
    “Don’t feel so good, either, to be honest. I’m too old for this shit.”
    “We can stop,” I offered. “Take a break?”
    Frank shook his head stubbornly. “I’ll be okay soon as we find something to drink. I’ve never gone this long without a beer. Must be withdrawal.”
    He smiled, trying to laugh it off, but I could see that he was serious.
    “Yeah,” Charlie agreed. “I’m thirsty, too. Don’t know about a beer, but I’d kill for a bottle of water right now.”
    The Exxon gas station and convenience store was still open, so we stopped there. A bell rang as we walked through the door and the lights were on inside, but there was nobody behind the counter.
    Charlie cupped his hands around his mouth. “Hello?”
    The fluorescent lights hummed softly in the silence. In the back room, the air compressor kicked on, making sure the soda and milk aisle stayed refrigerated.
    “Hey,” Charlie yelled again. “Anybody home? You got customers!”
    “It’s deserted,” Frank said. “Maybe the clerk vanished with everyone else.”
    Something didn’t feel right to me, but I couldn’t put my finger on it. The compressor suddenly shut itself off. My ears rang in the silence. I sniffed the air and caught a faint trace of cordite.
    “Doesn’t look like they have a public restroom,” Frank observed.
    “Maybe they’re in the back, using the crapper.”
    “Screw it,” Charlie said. “Let’s just take what we need and go.”
    I started to protest, but he cut me off.
    “We’ll leave our money on the counter, Steve. That way we’re not