Dead Highways: Origins Read Online Free PDF

that never works, does it?
    “Hey, bro,” he said, shuffling up to me as I tried to scamper off like a scared rat. “Haven’t seen you in a while.”
    I turned my head back but kept walking. “Yeah, I’ve been busy.”
    “What happened?”
    “What do you mean?”
    “I saw some guys repairing your window. You get robbed or something?”
    “You could say that.”
    “Sorry to hear that, bro.” I had to wait to cross the street. Kevin pulled up next to me smelling like stale cigarettes and beef jerky. “How was the joint?”
    I shrugged. “No big deal. How’s the coat?”
    Kevin frowned. “I sold it. I hope you don’t mind. I needed the money, and it’s not exactly that cold out anymore.”
    “Well, it is March now. How much did you sell it for?”
    “Five bucks.”
    “That’s more than I paid,” I said.
    The traffic cleared, and I began crossing the road. To my dismay, Kevin followed.
    “You want any more weed you let me know, okay? I can hook you up.”
    “Thanks, I’ll keep that in mind.”
    We were almost out in front of the bookstore when he emerged from around the back corner. He was well over six feet tall, black, bald, and bulky as can be, and had a thick bushy beard. He was wearing a black tank top that gripped his bulging muscles like a glove. Later, I’d find out his real name. On this day, Kevin called him by his street name.
    “Bowser. Wasn’t expecting you so soon, man.”
    “Who’s this?” Bowser said, nodding at me.
    “Just a friend.”
    “Cop friend?”
    “Come on, bro. You know me better than that.”
    Bowser finally looked over at me. “What’s in the bag?”
    It took a moment for the question to register in my brain. I had almost forgotten I was holding the plastic bag from the Haji-Mart. “Just some pastries.”
    “Donuts?”
    I nodded.
    He looked back to Kevin and smiled. His teeth were whiter than grandma’s dentures. “You sure he ain’t a cop?”
    “Oh, I get it,” I said. “Cops. Donuts.”
    “Nah, he’s cool,” Kevin said.
    For once in my life, I was cool, even if it was only in the eyes of a druggie and his dealer. I left them to do their business and went inside the store to enjoy my lunch.
    It was later that day that I first heard of the virus.

Chapter 9
     
    I was upstairs in my room watching Judge Judy scold some bald dude for telling her lies, when the show was interrupted with a breaking news report.
    The attractive female news anchor began speaking about a potential security breach in a communicable diseases laboratory in southeast Nevada. She wouldn’t disclose the exact town where the lab was located, only that government officials had the situation under control and there was nothing for the public to worry about.
    Hadn’t heard that one before.
    There were no clips of military personnel providing perimeter support. No shots of people in hazmat suits. None of the fun stuff generally associated with potential viral outbreaks. Nothing like you’d see in the movies.
    Not yet.
    I changed the channel and started watching an old episode of South Park , the one where Mr. Garrison gets a sex change. I laughed my ass off and didn’t think twice about the news report. The next day I heard more about the outbreak.
     
    March 11, 2012.
    This time there were shots of all the fun stuff. Hazmat suits. Soldiers in humvees patrolling a temporary fence line. ARMY helicopters circling above. Police threatening to arrest reporters if they didn’t turn off their cameras. Apparently the media wasn’t allowed inside what the news was calling the “containment zone,” and government officials, while still offering their kind reassurances to the public, were tight-lipped on the nature of the problem or what exactly they were trying to contain. This was when I began to get a little concerned.
     
    March 12, 2012.
    One day later and I was very concerned.
    The containment zone had grown by a hundred miles overnight, and now encompassed the entirety of southeast