This Would Be Paradise (Book 2)

by N. D. Iverson

  “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.

  Chapter 13

  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?”

  Chapter 14

  The next morning arrived alarmingly fast. Maybe it was because of the concussion, but I didn’t really believe that. Other than a minor headache, made bearable by a couple of Tylenols, I was ready to go. I made sure to take off the gauze swathed around my head; it certainly wouldn’t inspire confidence that I was okay to drive.

  Chloe and I waited by the entrance with our bags. Roy had taken Amanda to his daughter’s grave to say their goodbyes before we headed off.

  “Here, you’ll need this,” Mac said and passed me a duffel bag.

  I took it and peeked inside. Two rifles were nestled between boxes of bullets—one an AR-15 and the other a M4.

  I held the bag out to give it back. “I can’t accept these. You need them.”

  Mac folded his arms. “Nope, there’s no way we’re letting you go out there with one handgun.”

  “If all goes according to plan, we’ll have more weapons by the end of the day,” I said, lowering the bag. It was heavy.

  “Well, if all doesn’t go according to plan, at least you’ll have these.”

  “Thank you,” I said, giving in.

  Mac grinned. “You’re welcome, miss.”

  “You sure you don’t need any more first aid supplies?” Elaine asked.

  She’d given us a final look-over to make sure we were healthy. At least our bodies were—sort of. The stitches in my scalp were still intact and the cut was infection-free, plus I hadn’t experienced any dizziness. Even my creaky elbow had gone into remission. A good sign? I’d like to think so. Chloe’s arm was well on its way to being healed, though she’d be left with a nasty scar.

  “Nope, we have enough.” I didn’t want to deplete their stash any more than we already had.

  They’d generously provided us with some canned goods, and Mac had packed us a lunch for the road. I found myself shuffling my feet. Their kindness was making it even harder to say goodbye. At least we were getting the chance to say it, instead of some horrible event tearing us apart without giving us the opportunity to so much as wave. Leaving was on our terms—mostly. The survivors were running Roy out, and I wanted to continue on.

  The roar of an engine drew my attention to the front door. Roy waved at us from the rusted truck he was taking for the trip. He said old trucks were built better and easier to fix, so he tuned up one they’d found while scavenging the small town a while back. It looked like it was on its last leg, but then again, so did my old Honda Civic, which had carted me around for six years back home.

  We got hugs from everyone, and more than a couple of faces were teary-eyed despite the way things had gone down. Not everyone had turned up, just the ones we’d become friends with, of which there weren’t many left.

  “Don’t you dare be strangers. If you find yourself nearby, you better come see us,” Mac said.

  I looked at all the expectant faces. “I’ll do you one better. Once we find Hargrove, we’ll come get you.”

  “I’ll hold you to that.” Mac crushed me in a giant bear hug. “You better get going. You’ll need all the daylight you can get.”

  We walked out into the sunny morning, the rays warming my exposed skin. I was starting to really enjoy that sensation.

  “I’m gonna miss ‘em,” Chloe muttered as we made our way to our parked car.

  I placed my hand on her head. “Me too, but we’ll see them again.”

  I wouldn’t miss what had happened here, but the people we were leaving behind. That was always the hardest part.

  I pulled the car beside Roy’s rust bucket so the drivers’ sides were parallel and rolled down the window.

  “You ready to go?” I asked, more as a formality.

  Roy nodded. “We’ll be behind you the whole way.”

  I rolled up the window and started toward the interstate. The added protection of the two rifles Mac had given us made me feel incrementally better. At least we could use them if the infected swamped us, which was probable the closer we got to New Orleans.

  The guards stationed at the town’s exit ramp waved us by. I waved back and we turned down the long stretch of highway. Since we no longer had to worry about oncoming traffic, we could drive on the wrong side of the road. I’d laid the map out on the dash, the roughly estimated route drawn from my memory of the map John had marked.

  We weren’t looking for the main bridge that crossed the Mississippi River, but the one on the outskirts that led to the area where we’d found that first grocery store. To find this, we’d have to get off the interstate and take some back roads. I hoped I’d recognize something to instill confidence in this plan. This trip felt kind of like a crapshoot.

  An hour later, a honk from Roy’s truck had me hitting the brakes. Before we left, we’d decided one honk was the signal to stop. I peered in the rearview mirror to see that Roy had stalled, smoke seeping out from under the hood of his truck.

  “What’s he doin’?” Chloe asked as she squinted at her side mirror.

  I scanned the area as best as I could from inside the car for any immediate threats, but the highway remained a testament to the lack of life.

  “I’m guessing his old truck is hooped.” I sighed. “So much for old trucks being built better.”

  Nothing ever went smoothly. Was safe passage too much to ask for?

  I grabbed my handgun from my backpack loaded in the back seat and told Chloe, “Stay in the car. I’ll signal for you to come out when I’m sure the area’s safe.”

  I hurried over to the truck, waving at the smoke and steam to clear my view.

  “What’s wrong?” I asked Roy. He was already in front of the truck, with the hood propped up.

  “Not sure, but I think the
re’s a leak in the radiator. The temperature’s too high and the engine is struggling. I just need ten minutes to tinker with it.” Roy hunched over the engine, wrench in hand.

  “I’ll give the area a once-over to make sure nothing’s right by us,” I said.

  He looked up from the guts of the truck. “Stay close and don’t be a hero. Yell if you get into trouble.”

  “I have no intention of playing hero. That only gets you dead.” I left him with those words and backtracked down the road.

  Though the highway had been clear during our drive, the noise could’ve attracted some unwanted attention. I kept the vehicle in sight as I made my way down the interstate. I checked the ditches in either side of the highway and when nothing even so much as moved, I headed back.

  Amanda stuck her head out the passenger window. “Is everything okay?”

  “Everything looks good so far. And it seems like your dad knows what he’s doing.”

  Roy had crawled under the truck, his feet sticking out like the witch from the Wizard of Oz who’d had the house dropped on her.

  “Yeah, Dad used to fix up old cars all the time. You should have seen all the tools he had!” Amanda said in a rush.

  “Good th—”

  A car horn blasted.

  Chloe.

  I took off like a marathoner toward the car. She knew what the noise could draw in and wouldn’t have dared risk it unless there was danger. As I approached the car, I could see the outline of a body against the passenger side of the car. I could tell it wasn’t the groping hand of an infected, but the intent hands of a living person jingling the door handle. Chloe must have hit the lock button before the man could get in. Thank God.

  “Step away from the car or I’ll blow your head off,” I ordered, a couple paces from the person.

  He turned around, hands in the air. He looked at the gun I was aiming right at him and stepped back.

  Roy had gone around to the driver’s side, where Chloe was huddled.

  “Stay inside and keep the doors locked,” Roy told her when she was about to get out.

  “I wasn’t gonna try anythin’. I just need a ride,” the shaggy man said.

  He lowered his hands, his ragged shirt sagging past his shoulder, revealing a bloodied bandage.