This Would Be Paradise (Book 2) (8 page)

I remembered one time, back in elementary school, when a classmate named Eric had managed to coax a skunk onto school grounds. He stood at the break in the metal fence for most of our lunch recess, waving his bologna sandwich enticingly at the black-furred creature. After a while, it crept up to the fence, only to spray Eric and make off with the sandwich he’d dropped.

Eric sputtered as the kids closest to him ran as far downwind as they could get. When he approached the crowd with hesitant steps, they all backed up from him in a wave of disgust. He burst into tears, and eventually a teacher hosed him off outside before calling his parents. For days, he stunk, no matter how much his parents must have bathed him, and no one would go near him. It was like he’d been involuntarily quarantined.

I kind of felt like Roy was suffering from the same fallout poor Eric had, except this time, people had more of a reason to keep their distance. The one’s who’d witnessed the shooting firsthand were too shocked and traumatized to keep quiet and had gossiped to the rest of the populace by the time morning came. Roy quickly become the resident leper. Eyes sunk to the floor when he would pass by, and people were quick to move out of his way, only to cast him dirty looks when his back was turned. He wouldn’t last here much longer. Either he’d pack up and leave, or an enraged group comprised mainly of elderly ladies would throw him out.

What no one knew, except for the ten or so of us who’d been there for the interrogation, was that Tim had been a two-faced traitor responsible for leading those mercenaries here and causing the deaths of at least ten people. But a public execution hadn’t been the answer to his crimes, and it had left us with more questions. The image of Tim’s head whipping back from the impact of the bullet was seared into my mind.

I tried to convince myself this wasn’t my problem, that this had nothing to do with me or me staying here, but I kept getting sucked in like a bird into a jumbo jet engine. I wanted to leave with Chloe and continue on toward John’s gun shop like I’d planned to days ago. I wanted this whole thing not to bother me. I didn’t want to care. But something inside me had made me stay to help fix the disorder and broken pieces.

The light from the rising sun was quickly spilling into the common room through the large window. Elaine, Mac, and I had spent the night cleaning up the … mess. Tim was wrapped up in a sheet outside, awaiting his burial. His body had been the hardest thing to deal with. We’d had to cut the zip ties binding his wrists and maneuver him onto a sheet, all the while his head leaked blood and brain matter. At one point, Mac had excused himself to go throw up in the hallway. Once we’d gotten Tim’s body outside, we started in on the bloody mess that was the floor. Lucky for us, the building had cheaped out with linoleum, and there was no carpet.

I stood and stretched out my back. Looking down at our poor excuse of a murder cleanup job, I could see that the linoleum would be forever stained a russet color. I ripped off my rubber gloves and threw them into the garbage bag Elaine had labeled “Hazardous Waste” with a Sharpie.

“We’re not done yet,” Elaine said as she slapped down the rag in her hand on the floor, where it landed with a wet
splat
.

“I am.” I cracked my neck.

My head was throbbing from the concussion, and I was pretty sure Elaine knew I shouldn’t be exerting myself. My eyelids were sagging like a used mattress as fatigue set in.

“We need sleep, Elaine,” Mac groaned as he hefted himself up from his crouched position.

The worst of it was cleaned up, and you could hardly tell someone had been shot in the common room.

Elaine rubbed at her forehead. “Fine, but do you have any idea how many diseases are spread from human remains? That’s why we have to be meticulous.”

I let out a bark of laughter. “I think we’re already covered there. Have you not seen the world lately?”

Her nostrils flared at my comment.

“Listen, we’re going to go get a few hours of rest. That includes you too, Elaine.” Mac looked at her. “And then, when our heads are clearer, we can deal with this.”

“You’re forgetting about concussed here,” Elaine said.

Oh, so now she was concerned for my health. How convenient.

“I think pulling an all-nighter means I’m in the clear, but just in case, I’ll have Chloe shake me awake every few hours.” Chloe would be diligent with any task I gave her.

We dragged the makeshift hazardous waste bags outside then drudged upstairs for much needed sleep. I barely got the instructions out to Chloe before I collapsed on the bed in our new apartment. The old one was still airing out from the earlier incidents. The last thing I remember was Chloe setting the timer she’d borrowed from Mac’s kitchen. As instructed, Chloe woke me up every three hours on the hour. It wasn’t the best sleep I’d ever had, but it beat no sleep. Then someone woke me a third time.

“Bailey, I know it’s too early to be wakin’ you up but somethin’ is goin’ on downstairs. I think it’s about Roy,” Chloe told me, her voice breaking through my foggy brain.

Judging from the bright light flooding the room, it was afternoon. Everyone had had the day to make things worse, and knowing this place, that’s exactly what happened. I swung my feet over the bed and rubbed my temples. My head still hurt; I’d have to get more pills from Elaine.

Chloe grabbed my arm and yanked it. “Come on. Amanda is cryin’. She thinks somethin’ is goin’ to happen to her dad.”

I guess a lynch mob had formed while I was sleeping.

“Where’s Amanda?” I asked, shaking my head to clear it further.

“In her room.”

“Go stay with her, okay?”

She nodded at my request.

I dragged my stiff body out of the surprisingly comfy bed and dreaded every step that brought me closer to downstairs. I needed to leave this place and its shit behind me. Standing on the second set of stairs, I could already hear the swarm of people below.

“He can’t stay here anymore. He’s a cold-blooded murderer!”

“He killed Tim!”

“Enough!” That last voice belonged to Elaine. “I agree his actions were hasty, but there are some parts of the story you don’t know!”

I hit the landing of the main floor and followed the yelling to the rec room, which smelled of bleach. The room was hot from all the worked-up people congregated there. Heads turned toward me as I approached.

“She’s partly to blame too!” An elderly lady in a flower patterned blouse jabbed a boney finger my way.

Surprise stopped me dead in my tracks. They were blaming me for this too?

“She needs to leave. She pointed a gun at Karla!”

“I was never going to pull the trigger!”

“Could have fooled us.”

Too bad my grade-seven drama teacher hadn’t heard that. He’d tried to give me a failing grade.

I clenched my teeth. These stupid people had no idea what they were talking about. Like hell I’d let them get away with accusing people without knowing the whole story. I walked toward Elaine, the crowd parting to let me through. I grabbed a folding chair from the corner and dragged it to the center of the room. Taking a lungful of air, I stepped onto the chair and towered over everyone’s heads.

“You have no idea what the fuck you’re talking about!” I yelled.

When they gasped, I realized I should have used a different opener.

“Tim was a traitor, selling us off to the highest bidder. Perhaps you forgot that the first attack happened long before I came here.”

Murmurs erupted.

“Tim believed I was immune and led those mercenaries here to grab me.”

The lady in the flower patterned blouse stepped forward. “Why would he think you’re immune?”

I hesitated. Did I want all these people to know? I looked at Elaine and she nodded, urging me on.

“This is why.” I lifted my shirt to show off the scratches running along my side. I’d come to Louisiana for Mardi Gras, so why not flash a crowd?

She gasped. “That’s from a sick one?”

I lowered the corner of my shirt. “Yes. It happened months ago.”

“What would they want with you or anyone else they took?”

They weren’t connecting the dots.

“Apparently these mercenaries are supplying another group of people who are looking for a cure or something. While we’re not a hundred percent clear on what happened to them, I’m sure saying these people are using them as test subjects isn’t too farfetched.”

I wasn’t sure I was making the right call in telling them all this, but Elaine wasn’t stopping me and Mac, who’d joined the group sometime in the middle of my speech, wasn’t stepping in either. Maybe this was exactly what these people needed to hear to knock some sense into them.

Everyone burst out yelling, trying to get their two cents in. I sighed. The room was like a gym full of elementary kids arguing over what game to play.

“Rabble, rabble, rabble!” I screamed over the restless crowd. As Zoe would have said, “My crazy was starting to show.”

Confused but quiet, faces peered at up at me.

“This is getting us nowhere. What exactly are you going on about?” I demanded.

The braver, floral blouse wearing, lady stepped forward again. “We want Roy out of here. Regardless of the backstory, he’s a murderer.”

Before I could reply, Elaine spoke up. “What about Roy’s daughter, Amanda? Are you condemning her for his actions too?”

The lady hesitated, then said, “Of course not. She can stay.”

“In what world would that work?” Elaine practically shouted. “Do you think Roy would just give up his daughter or that she’d be okay with staying here while he left?”

I would have said something, except Roy beat me to it.

“You don’t have to worry about running me out of this place. I’m leaving and taking Amanda with me.” He’d snuck in at the back of the crowd.

People gasped and backed away from him, pressing farther into the room. You’d think we were on the set of a soap opera with all the gasping going on.

“Roy—”

Roy held up his hand. “I’m packed and I’ll be leaving first thing tomorrow.”

And with that, he walked back upstairs, leaving behind a room of people staring at their feet.

I gingerly stepped down from my fancy podium, not trusting my balance. I snaked around the crowd and followed Roy out. He moved fast, already back in his apartment by the time I reached the second floor.

I found him sitting, shoulders slumped, on the leather couch in the living room. Beside him sat a trucker’s radio, which I could only assume was the one Tim had used to contact the mercenaries. The radio was Roy’s only lead toward finding his wife, and he sure as hell wasn’t leaving it behind.

The bedroom door was closed, and I could hear Chloe talking to Amanda. That kid didn’t know how to whisper. Roy’s packed bags were waiting by the door, ready to go tomorrow morning.

“Roy, I—”

“Bailey, don’t. I need to leave. For me.”

“I’m not going to say what you think I am.” I approached him and leaned against the wall in front of him.

He looked up at me, dark circles under his eyes.

“Why don’t we leave together?” Even though the words had left my lips, I still wasn’t sure of them.

Roy’s mouth fell open. “You’re right. I wasn’t thinking that at all.” He rubbed his temples. “Aren’t you worried I’m dangerous?”

“You know, I was pretty scary myself last night too,” I admitted. I’d let my anger take over and something ugly emerged. If Roy hadn’t killed Tim, maybe I would have.

“This place needs a leader, and I was never much of one. I think you’d fill the role better,” Roy said and leaned further into the back of the couch.

I scoffed. “It would be a sad day the day anyone put me in charge. I wanted to leave since I got here, and now I have my opening.”

Maybe he’d be more open to the idea if I put a selfish spin on it. I wasn’t scared of Roy; after all, I had killed before. Albeit the person wasn’t tied up and at my mercy, but if he hadn’t killed Tim, what would we have done with him?

“And where would we go?” he asked, testing the idea.

“Where did you plan to go?” I asked.

At the defeated look on his face, I knew he had no plan whatsoever.

“Fair enough. Need help getting to the gun store you were talking about?”

“Indeed I do. It’ll be a long trip back.”

“Have you told Elaine and Mac? I’m sure they won’t let you go without a fight.”

I looked away for a second. “It’s not their choice.”

“Well, you better start packing then. I want to leave at first light tomorrow.”

“Pretty demanding words for a guy who has no idea where he’s going.”

Roy let out a harsh breath. “I don’t want Amanda to see everyone’s reactions to me or hear anything they might say. Maybe most of them will still be asleep that early.”

“You forget this place is like a retirement village, full of elderly people who get up at five in the morning.”

“Good point. I just want to put this all behind me as fast as I can. Lingering will only make it worse.”

I knew a thing or two about that.

I let Chloe stay with Amanda while I packed up our few belongings back in our apartment. Most of our stuff was still in the car, primed for a quick getaway. Even though I’d had my powernap, I was still exhausted—and concussed. I’d have to talk to Elaine about that.

“You’re leaving?” Speak of the devil.

Elaine, worn out and black-eyed, walked over and plunked down on the couch beside me.

“Yeah, you knew Chloe and I staying here was temporary.”

“Shitty timing.”

“Well tough shit,” I all but growled. “This place isn’t my problem. This was supposed to be a stop along the way, not a new life.”

Elaine leaned forward and put her face in her hands. “You know, when we formed this community, it used to feel like we had a real chance. We had trained leadership, weapons, food, people, shelter. Now it feels like everything we worked for has gone to shit. Makes me think we were fooling ourselves for ever thinking we had a chance.”

I patted her shoulder awkwardly. I wasn’t good with the whole comforting thing.

“Look, I felt like that before, when I got separated from my group and suddenly had a kid to look after. It was daunting; it still is. I have no idea what I’m doing, but the thing is, I’m still
doing
. That’s the key. Focus on rebuilding this place or find a new one. Hell, you can come with us if you like.”

Maybe I should have consulted with Roy before making that offer.

She lifted her head from her hands. “You’re leaving with Roy?”

“Yes.”

“Even after yesterday?”

“
Especially
after yesterday. Actually, I was going to come see you about the whole concussion issue. Other than feeling tired from sleep deprivation, do you think I’ll be okay to drive?” That was my main concern. I needed to be at a hundred percent while on the road.

“You hit your head hard, but not enough that I feel you’ll have that kind of long-term damage. You made it through last night without experiencing any consciousness problems, and that’s when they would have started showing up.” After a pause, she added, “But I’d still recommend you rest another day.”

“Yeah, that’s not happening.” I’d been down the stalling road since I’d gotten here.

“Mac will be pissed that you’re leaving,” Elaine said, like maybe that would change my mind.

“I was going to talk to him next.”

I went down to see Mac and found the kitchen in disarray. Ingredients and canisters littered the counter space. He was puttering all over the place, and the oven timer was constantly going off. I calmly walked over and mashed a few buttons, the shrill alarm ceasing. Once I got his attention, I told him about my plan to leave. He wasn’t happy about it either.

“You’re leaving me like week-old dinner?” Mac joked, but it felt forced.

“No food lasts a week here,” I retorted.

He sat on the bar stool and put down the utensil he’d been waving around. I wasn’t even sure what it was used for. It looked more like a medieval torture device.

“You came here at a crappy time. It wasn’t always like this, you know.” Mac sighed. “You got room for one more?”

I stepped back, surprised at his words.

“I’m kidding, of course. Looks like I’m going down with the ship.” Mac glared at the mysterious utensil.

“This place doesn’t have to go to waste. Tim’s gone. He was the only link to that mercenary group, so they might never even show up here again,” I said. “Now you can rebuild.”

“Rebuild,” he muttered. “I guess we don’t have a choice, do we?”