Page 33 of Second Dead


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  We cleared the bridge and headed into open country. Theo drove about eight miles an hour. At this speed, we went slow enough not to unduly shake Jenny. The railroad stood a good twenty feet above the surrounding countryside. Trees grew thick along the base of the berm on both sides and provided some cover.

  The highway stretched out of sight, bumper to bumper with abandoned vehicles. Flat farmland reached as far as the eye could see. On the horizon stood a line of trees, beyond which lay the Mississippi river. The highway parted company with the tracks when the railroad veered to the left.

  I pulled a bottle of water from my bag, noticed the notebook and tossed it onto the dashboard. I took a sip from the bottle and offered it to Theo, who just shook his head and kept his eyes ahead.

  Fine, go ahead and ignore me, but it’s something we’re going to have to work through. I sighed. Before we left the bridge, we had a rather embarrassing moment courtesy of Jane Spell.

  Jane had inspected Theo’s wounds and declared herself satisfied with the stitches. She tossed a bottle of pills to me and said, “Make sure your boyfriend takes two of these every four hours.”

  Theo had turned dark red but remained silent. Mom heard the comment and shot Theo a look of deep distrust. It did not help any when I had to assist Theo into the truck. I sighed. Why did he have to switch off now?

  I removed the notebook from the dashboard and read the title, ‘The Sacred Sisterhood of the Xích Quý.’ Hmm, interesting. I flipped through the pages and read selected sentences that caught my eye. Part history, part -- I don’t know -- religion perhaps. I found myself on the last page and read the final sentence. And you, my chosen sister, know we stand guard to this very day.

  Inside the pocket of the back cover were two letters. My heart sank. Acceptance letters from Notre Dame and St. Louis University. My full ride scholarships until the schools ceased to exist. Seventh highest A.C.T. score in state history opened a lot of doors. Who knows? Someday I might make it; the books at least, still exist.

  We headed due north. The road slipped out of sight. It continued its great sweep northeast toward Illinois. Bored and with no conversation from Theo, I started to read.

  A little while later Theo exclaimed, “What the hell is that?”

 
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