This Would Be Paradise (Book 2)

by N. D. Iverson

  “You’re like a little fortune cookie,” I teased.

  Chloe narrowed her eyes at me, but before she could retort, Ethan started his story.

  “As you can guess, I wasn’t goin’ to leave without Chloe. I spotted John headin’ back from where ever he’d been. He was screamin’ like a mad man ‘bout bein’ surrounded, like we were in the middle of a battlefield or somethin’.” Ethan took a breath. “John convinced me to check by the cabin since he hadn’t seen any sign of Chloe that far out. Once we got within range of the cabin, the crazy bastard knocked me out cold.”

  “What?” I stepped back in shock as if someone had actually pushed me.

  “Yeah, he knew I wouldn’t stay put, so he knocked me out and locked up the cabin. When I came to, I was so mad I swung at him. It was dark out, but there were still lots of roamin’ infected. He claimed he could tell from the tire marks and foot prints in the dirt driveway that you’d come back and that Chloe was with you in the car.”

  I was impressed with John. All the tracking and hunting wisdom Taylor had attempted to pass on to me had come from John, so I wasn’t surprised that he’d fitted the puzzle pieces together. I did think knocking out Ethan was a bit much though, but leaders always had to make the toughest choices.

  Ethan continued, “I knew John would know what he was talkin’ ‘bout and trusted him. But I’m still pissed ‘bout him knockin’ me out. We waited for two days in the cabin with no lights on, tryin’ not to make a sound until the infected had mostly moved on. Then we combed the land surroundin’ the cabin one last time for any sign of you guys. After that, we started out on foot with any supplies we could carry and one canister of gas. We found an old dirt bike on another property ‘bout seventeen miles away. Would’ve preferred a car, but it was better than nothin’. We rode the bike to John’s shop, hopin’ you guys would show up there too.”

  “I’m glad you left me my present. I don’t know what we would’ve done if you hadn’t,” I said.

  Who knew what we would have done had John’s store been empty. Roaming unprotected in the city was like being dropped in a tank full of sharks. We probably wouldn’t have run into Byron, and thus would have never found Hargrove. With so many possible outcomes, we’d gotten lucky.

  “From John’s shop, we checked out nearby places and ran into Byron, who brought us here to Hargrove. Zoe and Darren had been here ‘bout two days at that point. We went back to John’s shop every other day to see if you’d found the Berretta and map.” Ethan stopped and hugged Chloe again. “I still can’t believe you two are here.”

  “That makes—”

  “Ho-ly shit, Bailey!” a familiar voice with a southern accent hollered.

  I turned to see John’s cowboy hat bobbing toward me, with the man himself underneath. He jogged over and gave me a giant hug. The heavy duffle bag on his shoulder swung around and whacked us.

  “Ouch,” I said as I pulled away, pushing the bag off.

  “Sorry ‘bout that. Forgot I had the thing on. Can’t believe my eyes.” He walked over and gave Chloe a hug too.

  “What do you have in there? Bricks?”

  John grinned, the tan skin by his eyes crinkling. “Guns and ammo from trainin’.”

  John hefted his thumb to the entrance. Various people, including a larger man decked out in full military attire, were filing out of two large SUVs.

  “I see you noticed Sergeant Grant. I’m helpin’ him run the gun trainin’. Some people just can’t handle a weapon worth a darn. You get to meet Wyatt and some others yet?”

  “Yep, just coming off the official tour. Pretty good setup here.”

  “Who’s your friend?” John jerked his head toward Roy.

  My introductions were severely lacking today.

  “Sorry, John, this is Roy and his daughter, Amanda. I met them at another survivor hideout.”

  They shook hands. “So you’re the gun store owner I’ve heard about. Nice to meet you.”

  “Likewise. Any friend of Bailey’s is a friend of mine.” John tipped his hat. “Guess I should introduce you to the others.”

  He started back toward the group at the entrance, expecting us to follow. He seemed more like the old John now. The last time I’d seen him, he’d been a shell of a man filled with grief over losing Taylor. No doubt he was still struggling with losing his son, but he seemed renewed with purpose.

  I caught up to John. “So what’s this I hear about you knocking out Ethan?”

  Chapter 21

  After yet another round of introductions, my eyes were starting to cross. I was officially tired of meeting people. Sergeant Grant briskly shook our hands before walking off. He wasn’t very personable. Everyone else seemed nice though. One teenage boy around thirteen was being teased by the others from the training group about his crappy shooting. His face turned red. I could relate.

  A girl with dark red hair sidled up to Ethan and asked with a flashy smile, “Are these two the famous Chloe and Bailey I’ve heard so much about?”

  Ethan told her about us? About me?

  He smiled back at her. “Yep. Sheri, this is my little sister, Chloe, and this is Bailey.”

  “Hi,” Chloe said.

  I nodded and crossed my arms. When Chloe saw this, she mimicked my stance and crossed her arms too, like a little mini-me. Sheri frowned, and Ethan’s mouth fell open at my cold greeting. Admittedly, it wasn’t very mature, I was acting like I was back in high school. Maybe I should start a rumor that she was into girls?

  I turned from them to John. “So John, do I have to take your shooting course, or do I get your seal of approval thanks to the training you already gave me?”

  “Sergeant Grant has final say, so you’ll have to show him. But I’ll put in a good word for you.” John winked.

  “Bailey knows how to use the AR-15 now!” Chloe said, outing me.

  One of the people from their training group asked, “And how do you even know that’s what the gun is called, little girl?”

  Chloe cocked out a hip. “I grew up country.”

  People chuckled. Chloe certainly had a way of stealing scenes.

  “All right guys an’ gals, trainin’ is over for today. Head home and wash up for dinner,” John announced.

  The crowd dispersed and people, including Sheri, trickled back to their condos.

  Zoe leaned over to me. “Well, that was rude.”

  I couldn’t help but notice the smirk on her face.

  “Shut up,” was all I could say in my defense.

  “Sheri’s actually pretty nice.”

  “Sheri, pfft. That’s a stripper’s name.”

  Zoe laughed.

  “I’m gonna log in my guns, and then I’ll meet you guys for dinner.” John tipped his hat and took off toward the clubhouse.

  After another hour of catching up, Zoe and Ethan led us to the clubhouse for dinner. Apparently dinner was at four p.m. every day. At least they were keeping some traditions from the old folks’ community. The clubhouse had three large picnic tables in the center, with various other plastic tables and chairs all over. It still didn’t look like enough seating for the eighty-three people Zoe said resided here.

  “Are there enough seats for anyone?” I asked as I followed Zoe and Ethan.

  From the smell of cooking food wafting out here, I guessed the kitchen was in the back.

  “A lot of people just grab a plate and take it home,” Zoe explained.

  A line had formed by a large serving window, with aluminum trays of food set out like a buffet. I copied what Zoe and Ethan were doing and grabbed a plate with utensils, getting in line behind them.

  “Smells good,” Chloe said as she sniffed the air. “But I bet it won’t be as good as Mac’s food.”

  Mac’s cooking would be hard to beat. “Once we go get all of them, Mac can cook up some of his recipes for Hargrove.”

  “Who’s Mac?” Ethan asked. “And what do you mean you’re goin’ to get ‘em?”

  “He was the c
hef at the apartments we were at before coming here, and I promised we’d go back for them once we found this place.”

  The sound of a plate crashing to the floor made us jump.

  Roy leaned over to pick up the broken shards. “Sorry.”

  Ethan bent down to help. “No problem. Every house in Hargrove had dishes, so we’ve got tons.”

  I had a sinking feeling that Roy had dropped the plate at the mention of bringing the apartment crew here. They would undoubtedly recount what had happened to Tim.

  The line started to move once they’d cleared the floor of the broken plate pieces, and we finally reached the food. One pan had lasagna with cheese melting on top and smelled heavenly. One of the kitchen workers was serving, ensuring everyone got their fair share—nothing more.

  The next section had a real garden salad full of fresh vegetables, and I couldn’t remember a time I’d been more excited to eat lettuce. In the end, I had one of everything. We waited for the others to fill their plates and headed to an empty table. I dug into my food before everyone had sat down. I was starving.

  “Oh man, this is good!” Chloe said around a mouthful of lasagna.

  I could only nod, as my own mouth was full as well. The lasagna tasted like it had real meat.

  I swallowed and asked, “Is this really beef?”

  “You bet. Every once in a while, they cook up one of the older cows when a new calf is born. They use all the meat and keep the rest in freezers,” Ethan informed us.

  I could have cried tears of happiness. Going over four months without fresh beef or fresh vegetables made me realize how much I’d taken going to the supermarket for granted. Sure, you could raise your own cows and grow your own vegetables, but that was a full-time job in itself. And when you were constantly on the lookout for infected, farm work became impossible—unless you were in a guarded place like Hargrove.

  We finished the rest of our food in silence, too busy chewing to talk. It reminded me of the big family dinners my parents had forced me to go to over the holidays. I was starting to get full, but made myself to finish all the food on my plate. You didn’t dare waste anything edible now-a-days.

  I was on my last fork full when a single shrill alarm sounded. Everyone looked up from the table.

  “What was that?” I asked.

  Before I could get an answer, Wyatt’s voice carried throughout the hall. “Remain calm, everyone. The guards will take care of everything. Please go back to your dinners.”

  “When a guard spots more than a handful of infected, they sound the alarm to let the others know they might need backup,” Ethan said, his eyes glued to the clubhouse’s front door.

  “Should we go help?”

  “No, they can usually handle it. If they can’t, they’ll sound the alarm again to signal others to grab a gun and help. Since we’re in the city, we get plenty of infected outside the walls on a daily basis, and the guards are used to dealin’ with it.”

  “Have any infected ever gotten in?” Roy asked, his hand on Amanda’s head.

  “Since we’ve been here, only one has snuck in,” Zoe said. “But no one is sure how it got in. The perimeter is checked every day for weaknesses, and the gate is constantly guarded.”

  I opened my mouth to ask another question, when the alarm went off a second time. Ethan stood, his chair scraping against the floor.

  “I’m gonna go take out a gun and check it out,” Ethan said and then turned to Chloe. “You stay here.”

  Chloe silently agreed, not having any intention of leaving her first real meal in months.

  “I’ll come with you,” I said as I got up.

  Ethan looked at me. “I dunno if that’s a good idea.”

  “And why not?”

  He sighed. “Fine, but you can’t take out a gun since you haven’t taken the course. Follow me.”

  Ethan took off toward the door on our far right. He knocked then let himself in. John was already inside with Wyatt and a couple others. They were all grabbing weapons. They stopped what they were doing and stared at me. Way to make a person feel out of place.

  “Sorry, Miss Bailey, but unless you’ve taken our training course, you can’t have a weapon,” Wyatt said.

  “That’s fine,” I replied, not offering the information that I had my Beretta on me.

  John and Wyatt exchanged looks, and John nodded, vouching for me. Wyatt led the way back out once Ethan had grabbed a newer model hunting rifle. All the guns had been painted with red stripes, likely for identification purposes.

  The rest of our group must have handed over their weapons when they’d gotten here. I wouldn’t be revealing my Beretta unless I absolutely had to. If the guards had it all under control like Wyatt said, then I wouldn’t have to anyway.

  Most people were still sitting in their chairs, while a few had gathered around the clubhouse windows. Outside, some people with weapons had gathered around the gate, and the guards in their towers were shooting silenced rifles. Ethan ran to one of the makeshift guard towers, John to the other. With two people up there, they were squished, but they could still shoot unimpeded. With John and Ethan at the helm, I felt marginally better.

  Byron was packing a gun that hadn’t come from the supply room because it lacked the red stripes. Looked like there was a double standard to that rule. Byron made a point to flash me one of his wide-mouthed grins before heading back to the gate. He peered out the wide slit at the approaching infected, and when Wyatt approached him, he whispered something in Wyatt’s ear.

  “Looks like there aren’t as many as we thought. Guess one of the guards got twitchy and sounded the alarm again,” Wyatt said.

  “Truck!” one of the guards bellowed and the gunfire stopped.

  “Is it one of ours?” Wyatt yelled up at the guard.

  She grabbed a pair of binoculars and took another look outside the walls. “It’s ours!”

  “Shit, we can’t open the gate while the diseased are out there,” Wyatt said, then yelled up to the guard towers, “take out as many as you can before opening the gate!”

  They didn’t need me, but I wanted to see how they handled this type of situation. Trying to make myself look less out of place, I headed for the tower Ethan was perched on.

  “Everything okay out there?” I yelled at him.

  Ethan glanced down at me. “Yeah, we got a bunch, but the rest are all followin’ the truck. Don’t wanna risk hittin’ our people.”

  Our people. Ethan already thought of these people as his group. I felt kind of dejected. I mean we’d only been separated for just over two weeks. It was kind of like when you went through a breakup and the other party started dating another person after a week. It … hurt.

  Chapter 22

  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.