Dark Highways

A chaotic vortex of torment ripped through Daniel, dragging him into the darkest realm of his psyche. There was pain, anger, and a deep sense of loss, but confusion surpassed them all. It lay coiled inside of him, like a venomous snake.

He dipped his hand into the pocket of his coat, his fingertips briefly meeting the cold locket. Gazing out at the highway, he pulled his hand back out, blindly wiping the sticky liquid against his pants leg.

He could have ended the anguish in an instant. It would take such little effort to slip the barrel of the gun between his lips, that bitter, oily taste against his tongue. He could join her, and together they could be so far away from this place where nothing would ever flourish again.

Not yet.

There was still so much to do before he could go.

The borrowed truck crawled to a stop just short of a dusty crossroads. A swirling plume of black smoke rose from the hood before the engine died. It wouldn’t have mattered. Even with a pristine motor, there was only enough gas to have carried him another few miles.

Daniel lit a cigarette and climbed out of the truck. Wiping his damp forehead, he exhaled a thick cloud of smoke. Leaning against the cargo box, frustration bit into him and he allowed himself to sink slowly to the ground. A light drizzle gently sprinkled the pavement of the highway. It never seemed to stop raining since the world had died.

Tossing the spent cigarette to the side, he thrust his hand back into his pocket, his dry and cracked hand curling around her locket. Savoring the last remnant of her against his palm, searching desperately for a glimmer of warmth within it.

Much later the rain stopped, and the sun peeked out from the wall of dark cloud. Finally, he let sleep take him.

The crunch of gravel yanked him from his sleep.

Cautious footsteps somewhere on the other side of the truck.

With the glaring sun directly in his eyes, he saw only the shadowy outline of a man, and he stood motionless before him on the road. The man stepped closer, partially blocking the sun, and he was able to make out the stranger’s face more clearly. Hard, smooth lines as though his face had been carved from marble, the angular artistry evident in his jawline, his upper lip curving inward then rising to just beneath the tip of his strong nose. He appeared to be in his twenties, clean-shaven, with short, tousled black hair. His blue eyes shone, appearing to be fathoms deep. Ancient and wise, and almost out of place on such a young face. He wore a pair of dark jeans and a white t-shirt, sprinkled with ash and dust.

“What are you doing this far out of the city?” he asked, kneeling and meeting Daniel’s eyes.

Daniel paused a moment, swallowing hoarsely before replying. “Get lost. You need to go back the way you came, son.”

The stranger was motionless, his haunting blue eyes fixed intently on Daniel. “Well, before I do, do you have any water? I feel as though I’ve been on this road for a thousand years, and I sure could use a drink.”

Daniel studied the young man’s gaze, sensing no immediate danger. He reached for the bottle of water stuffed into his coat pocket and tossed it over to the man. Snatching it from the air, the man quickly uncapped it and brought it to his lips.

Uncomfortable with the silent moments that passed between them, Daniel asked, “Where did you come from?”

The stranger set the water bottle down beside Daniel and rose to his full height. He turned his head, scanning the horizon carefully, before settling back on Daniel as he replied, “From roaming through the earth, and walking back and forth in it.”

Daniel expected a strange answer. Since the world had ended, everyone had lost at least a bit of their mind. Some had lost mere fragments, but others were left with nothing left but cold, charred remains where a person once lived.

He wondered how much he had lost.

“And where are you going?” the stranger asked.

Images of the house flashed across his mind as vivid as lightning across a prairie sky. The small room they had painted just last summer in anticipation of a baby one day. The kitchen, where he would sit and watch her bake. The yard, where she had danced, the sunlight glinting off the small, heart-shaped locket hanging from her neck. He had given her the locket for her birthday, and he remembered how her face had beamed when she saw it.

“I love it here with you, Daniel. I love our home, I love the locket, just everything! You promise me you’ll never take me away from this place.”

“I…I don’t know,” Daniel mumbled. “I guess I’m going home.”

“You have family back home or is it just yourself?” the man asked with an amused smile.

Daniel felt his mind tilt and swirl again. He reached into his pocket, his fingers gently caressing the cold locket. “Just me,” he whispered. “My wife, she — she died a while back.”

The stranger’s gaze left Daniel and rested on the road behind them. “Yeah, they all died a while back.”

“Not everyone,” Daniel said. “There still has to be people out there somewhere.”

The stranger’s eyes darted back to Daniel. “Were you with her when she died?”

Hot blood pulsed through Daniel and around him the world dipped and swayed. He breathed in deeply before a harsh, hacking cough tore through his lungs. The very air seemed to be filled with dust and soot and ash and it was just like—

The day had been unbearably hot, and when the building serving as a make-shift hospital, had collapsed, it had sent a great wave of heat billowing forward. The black smoke rolled and thrashed, but Daniel had run forward into the beast. Groping blindly through the darkness, he made his way to the hall — or where the hall had been. She should have left days ago, but there was just too many to care for. Every day the field cots would be emptied of the dead, only to be replaced by even more so close to death.

“You can’t save them,” he had pleaded only days before. “Once they have it, they’re as good as dead.”

“I’m not trying to save them,” she had replied. “I’m with them at the end, and for many, that’s enough.”

Yet, nobody was with her when she died.

He found her on the floor near an exit, her body destroyed by the metal piping that had crashed down around her. Screams crawled out of his throat, tearing his vocal cords until nothing could escape but squeaks and yelps. He pulled on her legs, desperately trying to free her—any part of her.

“The fire, Daniel,” someone called out behind him, yanking on his arm. “It’s spreading, you have to get out!”

Daniel struggled free, rushing back to her side. He gripped the edge of the metal pipe, the surface burning his palms and fingers as he pulled. The smoke cleared and he saw her chest, torn wide open, the blood hissing and bubbling against the steel.

Her locket.

Save her locket at least.

With one hand, he pushed against the pipe, the other hand wading and searching for the heart-shaped locket that would have laid so beautifully against her broken chest.

The smoke whipped and danced, blinding his eyes but still his hands searched. It had to be here. A part of her could leave this terrible place that reeked of death and fire.

Somehow, he had found it. He had pulled and felt it in his hands. He had stuffed it into his coat pocket, away from the heat and the screaming.

Then, the world—their world, had faded to black.

“I said, were you with her when she died?” the stranger asked again.

Daniel glanced up, “No, I guess I wasn’t.”

“And now you’re trying to right your wrongs and take her home, like you should have done in the first place,” the stranger said, before letting out a short chuckle. He stepped further down the road, his back to Daniel as he studied the landscape ahead. “You humans always think you can save yourselves by fixing all of your mistakes, even when it’s already too late.” He gazed back at Daniel. “Regret is such a heavy burden.”

“It’s—it’s the right thing to do,” Daniel whispered. “It’s what she deserves.”

“You’re losing your mind, Daniel.”

“Sir?” Daniel called out. ‘What happened?” he asked because somehow, he knew the man would know.

The stranger chuckled again, and this time the sound echoed along the highway. “Perhaps, someone else had a regret and is simply trying to fix a mistake.”

With eyes tired and sore, Daniel watched as the man turned and started to walk further down the road, the heat from the pavement blurring and distorting his body until Daniel was almost convinced that he hadn’t been real at all.

Later, Daniel let the shovel drop from his blistered hands. The hole wasn’t deep, but it was deep enough. It was right where she had danced that night. He had made sure of that. Reaching into his pocket, he pulled out her locket, his heart giving a brief leap in his chest as his eyes caught sight of the mottled, purple lump in his hand.

“You’re home now, baby,” he whispered, gently placing the cold, heart-shaped locket into the ground. “And we’ll never leave again.”