This Would Be Paradise (Book 2)

by N. D. Iverson

  “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 cond
os 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?”

  “You think that’s best?” I asked.

  John hesitated. “It ain’t what I think. Them’s the rules.”

  I knew John wasn’t all in with this place; he had too much sense.

  “What’s with that?”

  “This way they can better keep track of the guns and ammo. Less accidents. Less theft. You’d be surprised how much crime can happen when a group of people gather.”

  I was about to ask if he was talking specifically about Hargrove, when the sergeant from yesterday appeared beside us.

  “You ready to head out?” His voice was so loud it almost sounded like he was yelling.

  “Yes I am, and we got two more to add to the trainin’ roster.”

  Sergeant Grant looked us up and down as if he were assessing his troops.

  “Come on then.”

  “Do I need a weapon?” I asked, matching his brisk tone.

  His eyes narrowed. “Yes. Go grab those rifles you mentioned and meet us back here ASAP.”

  How did he hear that?

  Without giving me a chance to answer, he walked off, clearly dismissing me. That made my blood boil.

  “He’s a little brash,” John said with a shrug. “Don’t know many sergeants who aren’t.”

  “I think the word is rude,” I corrected.

  Chapter 23

  Roy had elected to stay behind, not caring whether they gave him a gun, while John and I had ridden out in one of the trucks to the location they were using as a firing range. It was a good distance away—close to two hours—to keep the noise from attracting infected toward Hargrove. I couldn’t help but think of all the gas they were burning by transporting people there and back, but I guess that was the price they paid to play it safe.

  After my initial assessment with a handgun and the AR-15, Grant gave me back the M4 I’d handed over before we left, which was kind of insulting, actually—giving me back my own property.

  John beamed at me like a parent at their kid’s graduation when the sergeant deemed me fit for duty—or at least fit to carry a handgun and the AR-15.

  “You have the basics down, but can you shoot with a fully automatic rifle?” Sergeant Grant asked, motioning to the M4 he’d shoved into my arms.

  Were all military men this pushy? John wasn’t, but then again, he’d been retired from the military for years. I would’ve taken it personally, except Grant was like that to everyone. The poor teen boy from yesterday who had been teased was back to redeem himself, and the sergeant was giving him no quarter. I swore he looked close to tears after another round of Grant shouting instructions at him.

  I adjusted the sights and jammed the butt of the gun against the pocket of my shoulder. With a deep breath, I fired a burst of bullets, hitting the small target twice; I was more accurate with the AR-15. I just couldn’t control the trigger properly with the M4.

  Sergeant Grant’s steely gaze burned into the back of my head. “Thought you said you could use this weapon.”

  I wanted nothing more than to throw the gun down and tell Sergeant Asshole to go fuck himself, but instead, I gritted my teeth and kept at it. As I continued shooting, it seemed like the target was getting farther away, while the automatic weapon became heavier. When the gun clicked empty, I’d only managed to hit the target a handful of times.

  I lowered the gun and stretched out my sore shoulder.

  John walked over to me and whispered, “You need to hit the target at least fifteen times to be allowed to use the M4.”

  “Well I passed the other tests, so I really don’t care,” I lied.

  Sergeant Grant joined us, and I placed the M4 into his outstretched hand.

  “You’re clear to use a handgun and the semiauto, but you’re not allowed to use a fully automatic,” he stated. “If you want to keep tryin’, you can join us again in a couple of days for another go.”

  I hated people telling me what I could and couldn’t do. “Fine, then give me back my guns and ammo.”

  Grant stared me down, a condescending smirk on his face. “Fine, then you can leave our community.”

  I opened my mouth to give my undoubtedly super-mature retort, but John shot me a look that told me to shut up.

  “Bailey, it’s fine. You can take the course next time, and I’m sure you’ll pass with flyin’ colors.”

  Grant grunted and walked away with the weapons I’d given him.

  “That guy is a dick!” I hissed.

  John laughed. “He ain’t the friendliest of the bunch, but he’s got military trainin’ and survival skills that these people need. I think some of the population hasn’t left the gates since Wyatt started the place.”

  That was exactly what I’d thought.

  “You really think this place is on the up-and-up?” I asked, holding his gaze.

  When he hesitated, I knew something was wrong.

  “If I tell you, you have to swear you won’t go do somethin’ stupid,” John said.

  “Me? Never.”

  “I’m serious, Bailey.”

  “All right, but the longer you take to tell me, the worse I’ll think it is.” I tapped my foot.

  “There was a murder a week and a half ago in Hargrove.”

  “I’m sorry, but a what?”

  “A woman was killed in a pretty gory way. She was ripped open and her head was severed completely. We woke up early one mornin’ to find her in the middle of the street.”

  “How do you know a person killed her and not an infected?”

  “There was no sign of an infected on the entire block, and the body didn’t have any teeth marks on it. Plus, I ain’t never seen an infected decapitate a person. The body was cut real clean with a blade, just in a savage manner.” He paused, almost like he was stalling. “Some people suspect Darren.”

  My eyebrows shot up. “What? That’s crazy! I admit I was leery of him at first, but don’t you think he would’ve done something while we were sharing a cabin with him for almost four months?”

  “That’s what we said, but there was some circumstantial evidence.”

  “But no definitive proof
?” I threw my hands in the air. “This is ridiculous. People are so stupid sometimes.”

  “Scared people are notorious for bein’ stupid,” John agreed.

  “What kind of circumstantial evidence?”

  “Well, he was arguin’ with the victim, Clare, the night before about not being able to carry a weapon. She used to help out Grant before I did, and she wasn’t goin’ to let Darren have his guns until he passed the trainin’, just like everybody else. He was pretty pissed.”

  “So? I’m pissed about it. Does that make me a suspect?”

  John gave me a pointed look. “Be serious, Bailey. I understand you’re upset. We all were when Wyatt all but accused Darren, but we need to keep a level head. That’s what I’ve been doin’, even though it ain’t been easy.”

  “Did they find Darren red-handed in the library with a candlestick?”

  “This really isn’t a jokin’ matter.”

  “Sorry, I’m just kind of shocked.” The joke had been in bad taste; after all, someone was dead and a possible murderer was running around Hargrove.

  “No murder weapon was found and no blood trail. They searched all the condos after they found her body and came up with nothin’.”

  “How is that possible?”

  “Dunno. That’s the kind of thing we had police for.” John peered at Grant, who was out of earshot. “I admit Grant was the first person to come to mind when we found the body, with him bein’ part of the group that keeps this place runnin’ and all.”

  “You said Clare worked with the sergeant before you. Did they get along?”

  “I really don’t know. We hadn’t been here long enough at that point to tell. Why?”

  “Well, aren’t murders usually committed by someone who’s close to the deceased?”

  “You’re just sayin’ that ‘cause you don’t like the sergeant,” John said.

  “Perhaps, but I remember learning that in my criminology class.”

  John thought on it. “I do remember him tellin’ me he used to be a field medic, so he’d know how to cut open a body.”

  “That’s good to know. Still, it sounds like a cover-up. There had to be evidence somewhere, like bloody clothes and, I don’t know, the murder weapon.”