Deadburbia Read online

Page 2


  "What is the deal here?" he said aloud, rolling down his window. Nikki followed suit, and the four of them took in their surroundings, really examined them, for the first time. Everything – the yield sign, the mailboxes, the bus stop, even the houses crouching behind the pristine lawns in the darkness – was subtly "off", as if the whole street had been quickly cobbled together by aliens using erroneous and incomplete information. The pay phone stopped ringing, and now the only sound was the chipt-chipt-chipt-chipt of a nearby lawn sprinkler.

  "This neighborhood is... kinda creepy," said Eric.

  "Can we please get out of here?" said Nikki, quickly rolling up her window.

  "Your wish is my command," Carter said, gunning it through the intersection.

  6

  The road curved to the right again, they passed more not-quite-cookie-cutter houses, and approximately five minutes later they found themselves back at the intersection of fake 7-11 and church. Carter looked in vain for any street signs. "We've gone in a damn circle," he said. "Shit." Neither direction appeared more promising than the other, so, shrugging his shoulders, he turned left. At the next corner was another row of mailboxes, another bus stop, another phone booth, another YELD sign. Another block and, once again, they were at the corner of fake 7-11 and church. Gritting his teeth, Carter turned right this time. Mailboxes, bus stop, phone booth. Blowing through the YELD sign he sped past the familiar houses on either side only to slam on his brakes in frustration at the next intersection, throwing everyone in the car forward. "God dammit!" he shouted. "Fuck!" Across the street, on the right, was the fake 7-11, and across from it was the church.

  "Language!" Nikki admonished, pushing her long auburn hair out of her face. "And calm down! I almost french kissed the dashboard!"

  Lucky dashboard, Carter thought, taking a deep breath.

  "How do we get out of here?" Kim asked.

  "I don't know, dim bulb, because if I did I would have done it by now."

  "Don't get nasty with her!" Nikki snapped. "It's not her fault you're lost!"

  "Yeah, it's those..." Carter trailed off.

  "Look," said Eric, "there's gotta be some side road we're missing. These tiny little neighborhoods like to discourage through traffic so there's usually only one way in or out."

  "Except..." Nikki said.

  "What?" asked Eric.

  "Well, every time we come to this intersection the store and the church are in the same place. Relative to us, I mean. Weren't we coming from different directions?"

  "That is a quandary," said Eric, stroking his chin. He was trying to make light of the increasingly odd situation. For Kim's sake, he told himself.

  "Why don't we just ask for directions?" whispered Kim, indicating the fake 7-11.

  "Because men don't ask for directions," Nikki said sarcastically.

  Frowning, Carter cranked the wheel and pulled into the convenience store parking lot.

  7

  Kim immediately scampered inside to use the bathroom, but the others lingered for a moment. Nikki found herself looking up at the stars, which were sharper and brighter than she was used to. "You can see so many stars out here," she said out loud.

  "I'm surprised they're able to punch through all this light pollution," Eric said, following her gaze. Like the streets, the property was drenched in light, but it was a pallid, artificial light that barely penetrated the darkness beyond the perimeters of the parking lot.

  "I can't find the Big Dipper..." Nikki said, more to herself than the boys.

  "I see a big dip right here," Carter said, indicating Eric. Eric ignored him.

  "I don't see it either," Eric said. He turned around in a circle, scanning the sky. The stars were... wrong. But that was impossible, so he dismissed it. As much as it niggled the back of his brain, demanding his attention, he stubbornly refused to acknowledge it.

  "They're like chips of ice…" Nikki whispered.

  Kim bounced out of the store, bounded up to Eric, and attached herself to him. Self-consciously, he put his arm around her shoulders. "Did you get directions?" asked Carter.

  "There's no one in there," she said. "Least I didn't see anyone."

  "There has to be someone. People would rob the place blind."

  Kim shrugged.

  "They're probably in the back, taking a dump," Eric suggested. Nikki frowned.

  "I'll find him," Carter said. "Stay out here and try to keep those two from humping on the sidewalk," he told Nikki. Kim gaped at him as he roughly pulled the door open and went inside.

  Instantly, he realized that there was something amiss, and it only took him a second to figure out what it was. The burnt yet intoxicating scent of hours-old coffee... the pungent odor of hotdogs cooking on the roller grill... every smell he associated with a place like this was conspicuously absent. The place smelled almost… sterile. Approaching the counter, he called out.

  "Hello?"

  Nothing. Hesitantly, he walked behind the counter and poked his head into the back room. Maybe they'd been robbed. If there was a dead body back here he'd lose his shit. But no – the back room was meticulously neat, eerily so, but there was no one to be seen, dead or alive. "Hello?" he called out again.

  "Help meeee…" moaned a plaintive, feminine voice. His bowels seized up and his stomach dropped like a plunging elevator. "Help meeee," repeated the voice, closer now. "My friend Caaarter isss a buttheeeaaad..." Carter spun around and found Nikki grinning at him.

  "Boo!" she said.

  "Didn't I tell you to stay outside?" he said. "Your friend Kim is probably pregnant by now."

  "Seriously, Carter, will you just stop? What is your problem anyway?"

  "I'm not the one with the problem," he muttered.

  "Did you find anyone?" she asked, knowing the answer but eager to change the subject. He shook his head.

  "It's crazy. I dunno. Maybe something happened, like an emergency or something."

  "So they evacuated the convenience store?"

  "Not just the store," Carter said, his voice full of weary contempt. "Think about it, have we seen anybody since we pulled off the e-way? Anybody?"

  "Well, it's late…" Nikki said hesitantly.

  "Yeah, but not that late. I mean, I don't remember even seeing any lights on in any of the houses, do you?"

  "I think I did…" Nikki said, clearly not believing it herself.

  "I think something's seriously wrong. We need to get out of here. Like yesterday."

  "What do you mean seriously wrong?" Nikki asked. She hated to admit it, but he was starting to frighten her.

  "I dunno. Like a chemical spill or something. Or maybe there's a big forest fire coming."

  "Wouldn't we smell a fire?"

  "It doesn't matter," Carter said, taking her arm. "Regardless, we need to get out of here, right now." He put his hands on her shoulders and turned her towards him. "But don't worry. Whatever it is, I'll protect you."

  "You'll…?" she trailed off, staring at him quizzically. He was so earnest. She tried desperately to maintain a neutral expression, but she could feel the corners of her mouth creeping upward, completely against her will, which of course made the whole situation even funnier. Finally she couldn't help herself. She laughed, long and loud, right in his face. Furious, Carter stormed out of the back room. "Carter, wait!" Nikki said, chasing after him, but they both froze as they came out from behind the counter, transfixed by the sight that greeted them through the store's expansive front window. A pair of headlights was swinging into the parking lot.

  "Hallelujah," said Nikki, because, just like that, everything was instantly normal and rational again. Carter took a single step forward and then stopped.

  "Oh, shit," he said as the car came fully into view.

  "What?" Nikki asked. Carter briefly considered his response, and decided that he didn't care what Nikki thought of him anymore.

  "It's those niggers," he said.

  "Carter!" Nikki admonished. He ignored her, too busy weighing his
options. On the one hand, if he got tough with the guys in the other car and ran them off, maybe even belted one of them, he'd be the hero. On the other hand, they could just as easily beat him up, and right now he and Nikki were relatively safe inside. Frankly, he really didn't care what happened to the atheist kid, or Kim, for that matter. Especially since she was acting like such a dumb whore. Nikki, now, she was popular, and even if he'd blown his chances with her, getting her out of this jam – if it did, indeed, deteriorate into a legitimate jam – couldn't help but earn him brownie points with the rest of the popular crowd. Making his decision, he strode forward. He just hoped they didn't have a gun.

  8

  The car had stopped several feet away from Kim and Eric, facing them, blinding them with its headlights. When Nikki and Carter joined them the driver triggered his high beams and then revved his engine once, twice. Carter clenched his fists. Defiantly, none of the four moved. Then the driver suddenly killed his lights entirely, leaving them momentarily blinded. Carter half expected the driver to rush them and was prepared to grab the girls and pull them out of the way, but a second later the driver cut off the engine too. As their eyes adjusted they could see him, and his passenger. The driver was clearly their age, but his passenger was a big guy who Nikki immediately took for an adult. The driver was obviously agitated. His passenger seemed bored. At a nod from the former, they both climbed out of the car.

  "What's your problem, white boy?" asked the driver, addressing none of them in particular. He placed his hand against the front of his shirt, as if he had a weapon there.

  "Our problem? What's your problem, mook?"

  "Mook?" repeated the driver. Nikki noticed that the passenger was trying not to grin. And he was a kid after all. He was just a really big guy.

  "Mook mean a Chinese person," the big guy said.

  "They so racist and dumb they don't even know who they insulting," the driver said.

  "We're not racist!" Nikki shouted, although she caught herself glancing at Carter as she did so.

  "Seriously, whatever happened out there on the road was an accident, okay?" Eric added.

  "Your boy didn't accidentally flip us off," the driver said, indicating Carter.

  "He's not racist," Nikki repeated. "He's just... an idiot." Carter glared at her.

  "Idiot like that likely to get hisself killed," the driver said, but all the bluster had already gone out of him. There was no real fight in these guys, Nikki realized. They were just putting on a show to maintain their pride. She could work with that.

  "Look, we're legit sorry, okay? It really was a misunderstanding, right Carter?"

  Carter, glaring at the driver, hooked his thumbs under his belt and didn't say anything.

  "I said right, Carter?" Nikki repeated.

  "Yeah, right," Carter said robotically.

  No one said anything for nearly a minute. It was like history's least tense Mexican standoff. Finally, the big guy spoke.

  "Tell you what," he said. "You lead us back to the freeway before you go home and we call it even."

  "We actually pulled in here to get directions," Eric said. Kim, still attached to him, hadn't spoken during the entire confrontation.

  "You mean this ain't your neighborhood?" asked the driver.

  "No," said Nikki. "We're kind of... lost."

  "Of course you lost," the driver said. "This neighborhood is whack."

  "What do you mean it's 'whack'?" asked Carter.

  "Shit," said the big guy, "we been drivin' around for half an hour and we just keep passin' the same shit over and over. It's like the fuckin' Flintstones."

  "The Flintstones?" Nikki asked.

  "Ain't you never watched The Flintstones? When they run someplace, they just be passin' by the same background over and over again. That's what this place is like."

  It was an apt description, she had to admit.

  "Well, we thought we could get directions here," Nikki repeated. "But the place is deserted."

  "You mean it's closed?" the driver asked, craning his neck to really examine the store for the first time.

  "It's open, there's just nobody there."

  "Really?" The driver's eyes lit up. "I'll handle this," he said, sauntering towards the entrance. His passenger trailed behind and, shrugging her shoulders, Nikki joined him, followed by the others. Moments later they were all crowded inside.

  "Yo ho ho!" shouted the driver. "Anybody home? Come out come out where ever you is!"

  "I'm Hustle," the big guy told Eric and Kim, who happened to be closest to him. "That's Tray. He my cousin."

  "Eric," said Eric. "This is Kim."

  "Hi," said Kim nervously. Eric gave her a comforting squeeze.

  "We gonna buy some stuff," Tray called out. "Best be getting' up here to sell it to us!"

  "You check the back room?" Tray asked Eric.

  "I did," Carter said. "There's nobody back there."

  "What about the cooler?" Eric asked.

  "I'll check the cooler," said Tray. A moment later they heard the unmistakable sound of an aluminum can popping open. "Free beer!" he called out, taking a long pull from the can in his hand. Immediately he spit it out all over the cooler door. "Shit, damn! It skunked or somethin'!" He pulled the cooler door open and selected another brand, a bottle this time.

  "Oh my gosh, don't open them all!" Nikki gasped.

  "That first one was no good. I need to get my money's worth," Tray said. Twisting the bottle open, he tried this brand with the same result. "Hell, they all skunked."

  "For real?" Hustle joined him and examined the cooler's contents. "Ain't no wonder. These all off-brands. 'Billy Beer'? 'Jax'? 'Hootie's Home Grown Ale'?"

  "The candy is all generic too." Nikki was examining a bar dubbed 'Crackermint'.

  "All this stuff is expired, too," said Carter, rifling through a shelf of canned goods. "Nineteen ninety-three, nineteen eighty-six... here's one from nineteen fifty-eight. Cripes." Eric held up a bag of chips.

  "These don't expire until March of 2015," he said.

  "Is that even possible?" asked Kim.

  "Preservatives," Eric said.

  "This place is bullshit," said Tray, deliberately dropping the bottle in his hand to the floor, where it exploded with a dull, wet pop.

  "Hey, maybe they sell maps!" Carter suggested.

  "If they do, they probably maps of the moon, or Timbuktu, or some equally useless shit." Tray was already making for the door, casually sweeping product onto the floor with his arm as his did so.

  "Oh my gosh, stop!" gasped Nikki.

  "Like I said, this place is bullshit," Tray said. "Hustle, I'll wait for you outside." Dramatically, he barged out the door.

  "He okay," said Hustle apologetically. "He just frustrated."

  "We're all frustrated," said Carter, ransacking the counter in search of a map, a phone book, anything that might tell them wkere, exactly, they were and how to not be there anymore. His eyes fell on the cash register. Cautiously, he reached over and pressed NO SALE.

  "Carter, what are you doing?" cried Nikki.

  "Yeah, thou shalt not steal, right?" Eric added.

  "Relax, assholes" Carter said. "I just want to look." The drawer slowly slid open. There were neatly stacked pieces of paper inside, approximately the shape and size of paper money, but they were all blank.

  "This has got to be a joke," Carter said.

  "Maybe we on TV's Bloopers & Practical Jokes," suggested Hustle.

  Eric had an epiphany.

  "You know what this is?" he said excitedly. "This is a fake town! Like the military uses for maneuvers and to test bombs under realistic conditions! Holy crap, that's got to be it!"

  "The mystery is solved," said Carter. "Congratulations."

  "We really need to get out of here then," Nikki said. "There could be a bomb heading here right now!"

  Kim squeaked.

  "Get out how?" asked Carter. "We'll just end up driving around in circles, like we were before!"


  Nikki bit her lower lip, something she always did when she was thinking, and suddenly her eyes lit up.

  "Is there a phone behind the counter?" Carter leaned over it to check.

  "No."

  "Then let's go find that phone booth! We'll have someone come meet us, and tell them to pay careful attention to how to get back."

  "Sounds like a plan," said Eric.

  "Okay," said Carter. "You guys can follow us, if you want," he told Hustle.

  "How we know you ain't gonna ditch us?" Hustle asked.

  "You can take Kim," Carter said, hooking his thumb at her.

  "Carter!" admonished Nikki.

  "That's my name," said Carter.

  "If you willing to give up that cutey we'll take her," Hustle smiled.

  "I'll go with her," Eric quickly said. "Cool?" he asked Hustle. Hustle shrugged.

  Of course you will, thought Carter.

  "Okay," said Nikki, "time to let our fingers do the walking!"

  9

  They drove in a random direction and found the phone booth again with no difficulty, right next to the bus stop and the three red mailboxes. The landscape really did appear to be repeating. Like The Flintstones. They both parked right up against the curb. After a short debate everyone agreed that Nikki would call her older brother, who was back from college for the weekend to do two months' worth of laundry and was least likely to tell them to take a leap. But when she lifted the receiver, the others crowding around her outside the booth, she froze. "There's no place to put the money in, look," she said. "No coin return, either."

  "Oh no..." whispered Kim.

  "Reverse the charges," said Hustle. Nodding, Nikki began to dial the number and then froze again. There were twelve buttons making up the keypad, but instead of the expected numbers and accompanying letters each bore a single symbol. Some of these were letters and numbers (although one of the few numbers was three digits long, and another one appeared to be backwards – a backwards 2), and one of them was the pound symbol, but the rest were random shapes or mysterious glyphs, and even the correct characters were in the wrong place. "What do I do?" Nikki asked.