This Would Be Paradise (Book 2)

by N. D. Iverson

  Beside me, Colin grabbed a red plastic cup and reached for the clear vodka bottle. Darren grabbed his hand.

  “Nope, you’re not old enough.”

  “Don’t you have some Werther’s Originals to be sucking on, old man? It’s a party, and the end of the world, so loosen up,” Colin said.

  “One cup won’t hurt anyone,” I said. After all, I’d done my fair share of sneaking booze past my parents as a teen.

  “One cup, and I’ll be keeping an eye on you,” Darren said and relinquished Colin’s hand.

  “That’s creepy. You should be keeping that eye on your pretty girlfriend instead. She might find she has a thing for younger men.”

  “Squeaky-voiced teens aren’t really her thing,” Darren retorted.

  “I’ll have you know my voice hasn’t cracked since the seventh grade.”

  “So, two weeks ago?”

  They stared at each other, neither giving in.

  I rolled my eyes and intervened. “By the way, Colin, you’ll be asking Chloe to dance.”

  “What? Why?” Colin looked taken aback.

  “Yeah, why?” Darren asked.

  I couldn’t pass up the opportunity to tease the kid and inconvenience Colin. I leaned in as if I were gossiping in the girls’ locker room. “I think she has a little crush on you.”

  Darren scoffed. “She has better taste than that, even for a ten-year-old.”

  Chloe wasn’t ten yet, but I guessed she would be soon.

  “Fine.” Colin sighed. “Totally going to ruin my bad-boy reputation.”

  Not wanting to burst the kid’s bubble, I poured myself a rum and coke and took a big drink. It was strong, just the way I liked my booze.

  Chapter 39

  After two hours, the adults were well on their way to getting wasted, and the kids were gorging on the last pieces of cake. Even Wyatt was ripping up the dance floor. The music volume seemed to be sneaking up as the hours ticked by, but it may have been the alcohol playing with my mind. A chair-confined Sheri was sitting a few tables away from us with various people, staring longingly at the crowd, her healing kidney keeping her from joining in. According to Ethan, Oscar had released her from bed rest, but she had to stay in the wheelchair.

  Colin had finally asked Chloe to dance, and they were currently on the dance floor looking as rigid as possible. Ethan was sitting beside me, his arm draped over my chair.

  He pointed with the hand holding his drink at the pair and slurred, “I’m not goin’ to hav’ta get the shotgun, am I?”

  “This here’s my daughter,” I said in my poor excuse for a southern accent, then burst into laughter.

  At Ethan’s offended look, I said, “Calm down. I told Colin to ask her to dance. She’s totally got a crush on him.” I had to get my fun somewhere.

  I looked down into my empty cup. I need more drink!

  “You need a refill?” Ethan knocked our cups together. “’Cause I need one.”

  “If you’re offering.” I handed my cup to him. He stumbled a little as he got up.

  Roy was talking to one of the Hargrove residents, and Amanda was running around with some of the other kids. Zoe had dragged a tipsy Darren onto the dance floor, leaving me alone at the table, temporarily without a drink.

  Shouting drifted over the music. A scuffle had broken out, and people were trying to get out of the way. Byron and Darren burst out of the crowd, rolling and punching at each other. I flew from my chair, the alcohol making me regret my hasty action. I hadn’t drank this much to cut loose since Mardi Gras—drinking half a bottle of Jack back at the cabin didn’t count as “cutting loose.”

  Zoe was watching them, one hand cupped over her mouth.

  “What happened?” I asked, yelling over the music.

  “Byron was getting a little handsy, and Darren shoved him. Then they just started fighting.”

  I was going to try to help break it up, but Wyatt and a drunk Ethan moved in before I could. Wyatt grabbed Byron, whom he towered over, but that didn’t stop Byron from struggling. Ethan fought to restrain a still-swinging Darren and put some space between the two.

  “What in God’s name is going on? This is supposed to be a happy occasion!” Wyatt demanded.

  “This asshole needs to keep his hands to himself,” Darren said between heaving breaths.

  They stared each other down as they caught their wind. Neither was badly beaten up. Wyatt and Ethan had stopped them before they could inflict any real damage.

  “I ain’t done nothin’ wrong,” Byron said.

  “You’ll have to leave the party if you can’t contain yourselves,” Wyatt said.

  “I good, I good,” Byron said and held his hands up.

  Ethan let Darren go, and Darren stormed out, not bothering to reply. Wyatt loosened his grip on Byron, who grinned his wide-mouth grin. “Let’s get da music goin’ ‘gain!”

  Luckily people were drunk enough that getting back to the party wasn’t as awkward as it should have been. People started dancing, the fight forgotten to give room for a good time.

  Wyatt walked away with Byron in tow.

  “I should go check on him,” Zoe said, sullen. She left the clubhouse to talk Darren down from whatever mountain he was sulking on.

  I still wasn’t entirely sure what had happened, but booze always fueled these types of situations. The music switched to a slower number, replacing the fast beat with a piano melody.

  “If the mood’s not ruined, wanna dance?” Ethan held out his hand to me.

  “Why not?” I took his hand and we strolled onto the dance floor.

  I put my arms around his neck, and he placed his around my waist. I felt like I was back at one of my middle school dances. We swayed for bit, but the rising temperature in the room was getting to me, as was my concern for John. They still hadn’t returned. I knew they liked to drive as far away as possible for the gun training, but this was ridiculous. Nighttime was the worst time to be driving around, as the darkness only amplified the danger.

  “I need to get some air,” I said, my lips brushing Ethan’s ear.

  He pouted. “You wanna end the party so soon?”

  “No, fool. I just need some air. You going to be fine without me for a few minutes?”

  “I dunno.”

  I dislodged myself from our slow dancing, shoving him toward the table Chloe was sitting at.

  “Go take care of your sister in the meantime.”

  “Pushy,” Ethan said with a shake of his head.

  The cool night air hit my face as soon as I stepped outside. I wiped the sweat from my forehead; it really had been boiling in there. The pathways leading away from the clubhouse were lined with solar lights, illuminating the way. I followed the one that led to the well-kept park where the wedding had been held. A single white bench sat along the path, and I plunked myself down. Thanks to the fresh air and the short stroll, the effects of the alcohol were subsiding.

  I’d been sitting for a whole three minutes when the familiar squeal of the front gate’s rusted hinges interrupted the quiet. Please let that be John. I ran back along the path, almost tripping over one of the solar lights. Maybe I wasn’t as sober as I’d thought.

  Two vehicles poured into Hargrove. Since everyone was at the celebration, the opening and closing of the gate had been left to the two guards normally posted at the towers. A spotlight shone down from the gate, making their entrance look like a dramatic stage production. The guards quickly closed the gate, kicking back a couple of infected trying to sneak in. Once the gate was latched, they ran back up to their posts and shot the infected.

  I watched the people get out of the vehicles. My breath caught when I spotted a tired-looking John get out of the driver’s seat. I ran over to him, dodging around Grant, who didn’t even acknowledge my presence.

  “You sure took your sweet time,” I said as soon as I was close enough for him to hear me.

  “Me? What ‘bout you and your excursion with Darren?” John said, giving m
e a hug.

  I scrunched my nose; he smelled terrible. “You need a bath, bad.”

  He let out a tired laugh. “We picked the wrong spot to stop. There was an army of infected. Grant”—he glared at Grant’s retreating back—“shot one too close to me and it splattered all over me.”

  “Wait till I tell you what I fell in during my trip.”

  I walked with John back to his condo and found a lonesome Zoe sitting on the couch, sniffling. John raised a brow, but I told him showering was the best thing he could do at the moment.

  I sat down beside her. “What’s wrong?”

  “Darren wouldn’t talk to me. He just paced angrily for awhile before taking off.”

  “Where to?”

  “I don’t know.”

  She gave a big sniff. I looked around for tissues but found none. I got up and grabbed a questionable-looking napkin from their kitchen counter and gave it to her. Not caring that it may have been used, Zoe wiped at her teary eyes.

  “He just needs to cool off,” I said breezily.

  “You’re probably right. He was so mad when Byron started grabbing at me.”

  “Byron grabbed you?”

  “Well, more like groped. You know, like a drunk guy at a bar would do.”

  And here I thought we’d left those days behind us.

  “You just get all the guys, don’t you?”

  Zoe let out a laugh. “What was it you used to tell me? That I’d end up in a ditch one day?”

  I laughed with her. “Only if your taste in men didn’t change.”

  “Looks like that won’t happen,” she mumbled.

  “Darren’s … not like the others,” I said. I couldn’t believe I was defending him, but I’d gotten to see another side to him during our trip, and it had definitely improved my opinion of him.

  “Everything okay?” John asked when he reappeared, all cleaned up.

  “Yeah. Darren just got into a fight with Byron at the party and went to cool off,” I said.

  “So they had that weddin’ then?”

  I shifted my jaw. Even John had known about it.

  “It’s still going on if you want to hit up the party,” I said, not really wanting to return to it myself.

  “Sure. I could use some food.”

  Given his admission about having a drinking problem, I wasn’t sure whether being around drunks would be an issue, but he’d know his limits best. I’d just have to keep a discreet eye on him. He was probably keeping an eye on me too, watching for signs of another breakdown.

  “You want to come back too?” I asked Zoe.

  She shook her head. “I’m going to turn in.”

  I placed a hand on her shoulder, giving it a squeeze. “If you change your mind, you know where we’ll be.”

  “So how’d your trip go?” John asked, a little too aloof, as we walked toward the pulsating clubhouse.

  At this rate, they’d attract infected by the droves. Wyatt didn’t seem concerned; he was more worried about keeping the drinks flowing. Knowing I’d probably have to help fight the infected off, I decided to stick to non-alcoholic drinks for the rest of the night. Fighting while hung over would suck.

  “Good. Found a stowaway.”

  John’s head knocked back. “What?”

  “We brought back a teenager. Colin. He was all by himself in the middle of the city. You’ll notice him right away. He’s the one with the blue hair.”

  It was early into the morning hours, and kids no longer ran around inside; most of them must have been ushered to their beds. Adults were passed out in chairs and at tables despite the music. The dance floor crowd had lessened, but a dedicated bunch was still grinding and swaying drunkenly, refusing to let the party end. Wyatt was among those few.

  John went to scrape up what was left of the buffet, and I returned to our table to poke Colin, who was currently passed out face first on the table.

  I ruffled his hair. “Hey kid, that one drink do you in?”

  “Uhhhh,” was his muffled reply.

  He stirred, slowly sitting upright, looking like death warmed over. I couldn’t help it. I laughed.

  “Darren told you to stick to one drink.” So much for Darren keeping an eye on him.

  “I only had a couple more,” he said, his eyes unfocused. He really didn’t look good.

  “You want a head back to the condo? It’s got to be like two in the morning.”

  John chose that moment to sit down with his plate of scraps. “You all right, son?”

  Colin squinted at John. “John Wayne! I love your movies!”

  John choked on his first bite.

  “Don’t mind him. He’s drunk,” I said, patting Colin’s head like a puppy.

  Colin furrowed his brow and swatted my hand away.

  “When John’s done eating, we’ll drag your carcass back to the condo.”

  “I’m not a carcass—yet,” he said cryptically.

  I digested his words as drunken banter. There had been this guy Zoe and I used to go to bars with back in university. As soon as he got a couple drinks in him, he’d turn into a giant downer.

  “Have you seen Ethan?” I asked. I looked around, but he wasn’t amongst the dancing or passed out bodies.

  “He took Chloe home,” Colin said, swaying in his seat. “I don’t think you were right about Chloe. She hardly said a word.”

  Clearly, he knew nothing about little girls.

  Sheri wheeled over to our table. “Glad to see you both made it back okay,” she said to John and me.

  I nodded in answer.

  “What are you still doin’ up, girl? You should be in bed restin’,” John said.

  Sheri waved her hand like she was swatting at a fly. “Been cooped up in that clinic for days. I needed a break. Besides, I got my trusty wheelchair. Seem to have lost my motor though.”

  I assumed by “motor” she meant Crystal.

  Sheri looked at the spaced-out teen. “You need a lift?”

  “Depends. How fast can that thing go?”

  “As fast as Crystal pushes it.” Sheri grinned.

  “Man, I must look wrecked,” Colin muttered. “Everyone’s trying to get me to go to bed.”

  “Then maybe you should listen,” I said.

  Colin sighed. “Fine, let’s go.”

  “I ain’t done eatin’ yet,” John protested.

  “That can’t be very good.” I peered at the cold, hardened food on his plate. “It’s been out for hours.”

  “Better than nothin’.” He had a point.

  We patiently waited for John to finish his block of food. Colin’s eyes drooped, making him look like he was sleeping upright. He reminded me of how my uncle would inevitably pass out in the lounge chair every time we had a family dinner. All of us kids would paint his face with our cheap makeup sets. He’d wake up bellowing, but it was hard to be scared of a man wearing three layers of blush and sparkly blue eye shadow.

  John got up and tossed out his empty paper plate. “Let’s go.” He pointed to Sheri. “You too, missy.”

  “Okay,” she grumbled. “Let me find Crystal first.”

  Sheri wheeled away slowly. She kind of veered off to the side before getting her bearings. Perhaps one of us should have offered to help. Crystal was chatting with one of the guards who’d been on rotation, and Sheri grabbed a handful of her shirt at waist level; it was all she could reach. Crystal said a few more words to the guard before pushing Sheri back to us.

  “Some nurse I am,” Crystal said when they met us at the door.

  Together, we carried the wheelchair, with Sheri in it, down the steps, then I helped a stumbling Colin down. He almost took me down, when he leaned his entire six-foot frame against me.

  “John!” I yelled as Colin and I toppled toward the ground.

  John grabbed the falling tree trunk that was a drunk Colin. “I got ‘im.”

  “Thanks John Wayne. Where’s your horse?”

  “I’m gonna ignore that ‘cause your dr
unk,” John said.

  We must have looked like quite the group, walking down the cul-de-sac at night with one gangly, drunken teen and a girl in a wheelchair. Thanks to the solar lights plunked along the sidewalks, we could sort of see where we were going.

  “Hey, you guys see that?” Sheri yanked me to a stop.

  “What?”

  “Something’s moving behind those bushes.” She pointed to the tall shrubs across the street. It was hard to tell if they were moving with just the streetlights though.

  I started toward it, when John hissed, “What’re you doin’? You have your weapon on you?”

  I wasn’t sure how weddings worked here in the South, but I was pretty sure you weren’t supposed to be armed at them. I shook my head.

  “Grab mine.” John jerked his head. Looked like he didn’t obey the Hargrove’s rules of signing in weapons either.

  He produced a handgun from his waistband before hoisting Colin upright; he’d begun to slip off his shoulders.

  “Let me set down the kid, and I’ll back you up.”

  “If it was an infected, it probably would have stumbled out by now.”

  I ignored John’s protests and hurried across the street, with his gun in hand. I flipped off the safety and held the slide as I pushed the gun handle forward to chamber a round. Maybe one of the chickens had escaped again, or more than likely, a drunken villager had fallen over, but there was no harm in being cautious.

  I approached the hedges and peered over them, squinting through the shadows. I dropped my arms, the gun forgotten at my side. My heart lurched as my brain recognized the matted blond hair on the ground. I staggered forward, ignoring the prickly bush scraping at my arms.

  No, please no.

  My mouth gaped open. Someone was kneeling over a very dead Darren, their arms pumping back and forth as if they were sawing plywood. They stilled when they realized I was there, then whirled around, the knife in their hand ready to go.

  Byron. He was covered in so much blood that it looked like he’d rolled around in it. A menacing mask of red was sprayed across his face. I raised the gun just as he stalked toward me.

  “Don’t fucking move!” I yelled, the gun aimed right between his eyes.