This Would Be Paradise (Book 2) (13 page)

While I was licking my wounds, Ethan went back to looking through his hunting rifle’s scope, oblivious to how his words had hurt me. A few more muffled pops sounded from the snipers before Bryon shouted, “Openin’ da gate!”

It took him and two others to unlatch the massive iron gate and swing it open. John scrambled down from his perch to join the few with their guns at the ready. They were aiming through the open gate to stop any infected from sneaking in. Orange light from the setting sun flooded through the giant opening, only for the truck to block it as it barreled inside. I recognized the blond mop of hair at the wheel: Darren. Why was he by himself?
A supply run should have two people, minimum.

Once the vehicle was inside, Byron and his two helpers tried to close the gate, but infected were already slithering in. They backed up in a rush, not wanting the infected to bite off their fingers as they closed the gate. I took several giant steps backward as everyone unloaded rounds into the invading infected like a live execution, except the things they were shooting at were already dead. I would have helped, but I wasn’t ready to reveal the fact that I was armed just yet, and they seemed to have it covered.

Onlookers from the clubhouse poured outside to see what was going on. Some ran back to their condos at the sight of the infected, while others screamed. Because screaming always helped.

“You’re clear to close the gate!” one of the guards yelled.

Byron and the others hurried to close it back up before another wave came at them.

“Wait!” Wyatt yelled. “What about the bodies’? We can’t just leave them in here!”

All this time Wyatt had been barking orders, but he hadn’t shot once or attempted to help close the gate. He was a very hands-off leader. They made the worst kind of managers.

Byron shared an exasperated look with the others shutting the gate.

“You guys keep yer guns trained on that openin’, yeah?” Byron said to the two holding the gate, then turned to the others around him. “Da rest of ya, help me drag dese dead out!”

In a matter of minutes, Byron and the crew had removed the fallen bodies and shut the gate with zero casualties. They were probably used to the drill by now. I could imagine the infected body count in Hargrove far outweighed what I’d had to deal with so far.

Darren, who had since parked and gotten out of the truck, was walking over to me.

“Well, well, look what the cat dragged in.” Darren whistled.

I arched a brow. “Really? That’s the best you can come up with?”

Darren flashed me a grin and gave me a hug. “Yeah, I missed you too.”

“So you’re a delivery driver now?”

“Sometimes.” He shrugged. “When did you get here? Is it just you?”

“Chloe”—I emphasized Chloe’s name—“and I got here after lunchtime.”

“Glad to hear the squirt is okay too, and I’m impressed.” He gave me a light bump on the arm.

“Yeah, well, I picked up a few tricks along the way,” I said.

John was approaching us, his eyes narrowed. As soon as he reached us, he used two of his fingers to poke the back of my head.

“Ouch!” I swatted his hand away.

“What happened to your head? I didn’t see that before,” John said, trying to get a better look. “That stitches?”

So much for no one noticing. Darren got in on the action and started poking at my head as well. They would have made terrible nurses.

“Wow, that’s really helpful,” I muttered as I took my head back. “I got a concussion at the apartments we were at.”

John’s eyes went dark as storm clouds. “And you drove like that?”

“Not like I had a choice, and it wasn’t that bad. I don’t even have a headache anymore.” No need to tell them it was thanks to pain relievers.

“Someone do that to you?” Darren asked, all business.

I hesitated. “Eh, it’s a long story.”

“Well you best be tellin’ it right now then,” John said, crossing his arms.

I ran through all the events of the last few days as they patiently listened.

“So that guy you’re with, he shot the traitor?” John asked.

I may have told the story in Roy’s favor so he wouldn’t look as bad.

“Yes, and that’s why they made him leave. They’re too stupid to see that Roy did them a service.”

“Clearly. And you think mercenaries are after you?”

“Not just me, but anyone who’s immune—I think. One of the guys from the apartment had a theory that they were taking people who’d been infected but never turned. Roy’s wife was immune and the mercenaries took her.”

They stood silent for a minute, digesting all the information I’d dumped on them.

“We’ve seen the markings but had no idea where they came from,” John said, talking about the graffiti the mercenaries had left all over the place.

“What happened before that? After we got split up?” Darren asked.

“I’d rather wait until we’re all here so I don’t have to tell it a hundred times.”

“Fine,” Darren said, sounding disappointed.

The rest of the civilians reemerged from the dining hall once the gunfire and shouting had stopped. They reminded me of hesitant gophers peeking out of their burrows. How long had some of these people been here for? Judging by the fear radiating off them when the alarm sounded, some hadn’t been outside the walls since arriving here.

Ethan jumped down from his borrowed perch and joined us.

“Find anythin’ good on your run, Darren?” Ethan asked causally, as if shooting at swarms of infected was routine.

“Not much, just some canned goods and diapers.”

I’d only seen a couple infants, but I assumed the little poop machines went through diapers like Zoe went through guys. By now, the others had joined our group.

“Is it all okay now?” Chloe asked.

“Yep, we got ‘em all,” Ethan said with a smile. “I gotta go return this gun.”

John clapped his hands once. “All right. Let’s all meet up at our place in a few minutes so Bailey can finish her story.”

“And mine!” Chloe added.

Suddenly, I was nervous. All this time, I imagined how I’d tell them that I’d killed Riley, but found myself reluctant to share.

Those of us without borrowed weapons walked over to their house, while the rest returned to the clubhouse to log in their guns. What a pain that would be. Once everyone had moseyed over to Ethan and John’s condo, I proceeded to explain what happened with Chloe and me after we’d gotten split up at the cabin. Chloe proudly showed off her arm like a badge of honor when I went over having had to glue her back together like Humpty Dumpty.

Darren grinned, full of himself when I admitted I’d stolen the superglue idea from him. When it came time to explain what had happened with Riley, I made the split decision to omit it. After I finished recounting our harrowing tale, Chloe just had to pipe up.

“You never told me what happened to your neck.”

Everyone turned to scrutinize my healed neck, confused as to what she was talking about.

“Stairs, right?” Roy elbowed my side.

“Yeah, fell down the basement stairs,” I said.             

“Man, you’re clumsy.” Zoe shook her head. Based on the dubious looks the group was giving me, Zoe was the only one who’d bought the story. But then again, she’d also witnessed me tripping over the same slab of uneven cement at our university campus for four years.

“All right, guys. I got another round of trainin’ to run tomorrow, so I have to go plan with Grant, then I’m hittin’ the hay,” John announced as he got up. “And ya’ll are in my bedroom.”

I guess John had gotten kicked to the sofa after all. Everyone mumbled and Chloe yelled, “Party pooper!”

John ruffled her hair. “Good to have you back, missy.”

“Why does everyone do that to me?” Chloe muttered as she smoothed out her hair.

“And you too,” John said as he wrapped me in a giant hug again.

He seemed to be doing much better than the last time I’d seen him. Maybe having our cabin overrun had shifted some things into perspective for him. He’d seemed so lost when Taylor died, and I didn’t blame him. I was sure he was still grieving inside; he just didn’t let the grief take over anymore.

“Thanks.”

“I’ll walk you guys back to your condo,” Ethan offered.

I wasn’t sure why he wanted to walk us back, but I didn’t see the point in arguing. We went through another round of hugs before Roy and I left, him carrying an exhausted Amanda. Once we were on the street, Ethan turned to me.

“So what do you think? Pretty great place, right?”

“So far,” I admitted.

“I’m just curious, but how do they make those radio broadcasts?” Roy whispered so as not to wake Amanda.

“Uh, Wyatt makes the announcements from his office in condo number one. He has all the broadcastin’ equipment there.”

“Only he can use it?” I asked.

“I’ve only ever heard him use it. Dunno if they keep it restricted,” Ethan said, as if it wasn’t a big deal.

I was really disappointed in Ethan; he’d had no issue with assimilating into this place. All the questions we were asking him rolled right off his back. Maybe he was so happy here that he was ignoring the red flags that would have steered him otherwise. Maybe it was my ego talking, but I’d like to think my general air of suspicion made me more objective toward people and places, and something about this place didn’t sit right with me, nor did the leadership. I’d have to stay on guard until I was proven wrong.

The next morning I awoke to the incessant crowing of roosters. I tried to block out the noise by smothering my head underneath the flat pillow, but it didn’t work. It couldn’t have been later than seven in the morning, and with the long day yesterday, I wasn’t loving nature’s alarm clock going off. Shoving the clean covers from my body, I stomped out of bed like a teenager woken up early on a Saturday morning.

Roy and Amanda were already sitting at the kitchen island.

“Good morning!” Amanda said cheerily.

“Good morning to you too. How’d you sleep?” I asked them.

“Pretty good. Took a while to relax, but it seems like a secure setup,” Roy said.

I peered around at all the cat paraphernalia, grimacing when my eyes landed on a cat-shaped cookie jar on the counter.

“Think it’d be all right if we redecorated?”

Roy laughed quietly. “Well I won’t object, but I’d give it some time before we start changing anything.”

“I like it,” Amanda piped in. “Can we go to breakfast now?”

“You were waiting for me?” Now I felt bad.

“Not for too long.”

“Go ahead. I’m gonna shower first,” I said and shooed them out.

“Okay, we’ll save you a seat,” Roy said as they disappeared out the door.

I stood in the kitchen for a few minutes, enjoying the silence and the solitude. I couldn’t remember the last time I was truly alone. It felt similar to the first time my parents had left me home alone for a weekend. There’d been no alone time at the cabin, and sure as hell had been none since being with Chloe. A little bit giddy, I jumped into the shower.

I took my time with my shower, saying my thanks to whoever had designed these condos to run off an independent water and sewer system. After washing my face, I even applied a little mascara, which I’d pilfered from the general store while we were in Gibson. I hadn’t bothered with makeup in a long time, but for some reason, it felt appropriate today.

The walk to the clubhouse was a short one, and I could smell the food as I entered the building. I got in the dwindling line and grabbed a plate of scrambled eggs and what looked like really thick bacon. Once I got to the end of the line, I spotted Chloe flagging me down while standing on her chair. A few people stared at her curiously. For a brief second, I was transported back to my high school cafeteria.

With a grin, I hurried over, ready to inhale my food. It was a luxury to have food like this, but it made me wary of what the cost would be.

“Hey!” Chloe half shouted as I sat down. Ethan was nowhere in sight.

“Hey yourself,” I said back. “When did you guys get here?”

John put down his fork. “Right before Roy did.”

We finished our food and left the clubhouse as a group. Zoe went off to the condo they used as a classroom, taking an unwilling Chloe and an excited Amanda with her. Ethan was already with Wyatt, leaving me with John and Roy. Not sure where Darren was.

“Well if you two are wantin’ to carry a gun or anythin’ while you’re here, you best come with me,” John said to Roy and me. “Now I ain’t gonna mention the Beretta I know you have, but I gotta know what other guns you brought,” John said.

“An AR-15 and M4, plus a little ammo for them,” I said, leaving out my old handgun. That I could easily hide.

“You know how to use ‘em?” John asked.

“I got some training for it,” I told him. “Still kind of need a surface to shoot on to keep my aim though.”

“They aren’t easy to use at first, but you’ll get the hang of ‘em. You know I’m gonna need to log ‘em, right?”