Heaven in Hell: Box Set Episodes 1-4

by Dia Cole

  He rolled his eyes and pointed at the ground.

  I glanced down. My foot rested on the arm of a doll no larger than my forearm. Ignoring the censure in his eyes, I retrieved the plastic likeness of a newborn from under my sneaker.

  “Mama,” it said, its blue eyes fluttering.

  Eden had been mad for baby dolls when we were younger. She’d had one like this. The memory of the pretend nursery she’d set up in our shared bedroom made my throat tighten.

  Dominic headed for one of the open archways. “Stay here,” he said and left the room.

  I twisted the arm of the doll anxiously. If I stayed I’d be violating his earlier order to stay with him at all times.

  Is this some kind of test? Hell. Who am I kidding? Everything is a test with him.

  There was no question I’d be pulling Fs if he was grading me.

  There was a baby swing near the artificial Christmas tree in the back of the room.

  Is it empty?

  Do I want to know?

  Fighting back a shudder, I threw down the doll and bolted after Dominic.

  The kitchen was welcoming. Cheerful pale yellow cabinets framed the open space, their hue matching the floral wallpaper perfectly. A cluster of keys hung next to a landline telephone. As someone who’d resisted carrying a cell phone until last year, I felt a sudden kinship with this family.

  The door to the refrigerator was laden with finger-paint drawings and Christmas cards. Dirty dishes were piled in the sink. A pot, half-filled with something unrecognizable, sat on the stove. Half a slice of shriveled lemon lay abandoned on a cutting board. I stopped short.

  These people hadn’t packed up and left.

  The smell of decay grew stronger.

  “Get back,” Dominic ordered hoarsely from the doorway that led to the next room.

  Screw that.

  I drew my knife. “What is it?”

  “Nothing you’ll want to see.”

  Of course his words only made me step closer. I peered around his shoulder. Large red-brown letters spelled out Forgive Me on the blood-spattered walls of a formal dining room. There was just enough time for me to catch a glimpse of a long table where two small heads bowed over their plates as if praying before Dominic pushed me back.

  “Are they…”

  “The kids are dead. I don’t see the parents.” Dominic strode into the dining room.

  “Where they infected?”

  He examined the small bodies. “They don’t appear to be. They were both shot in the back of the head.”

  “What kind of monster could do that?” My breath came out in pants.

  You knew a monster like that, whispered the nightmares in my head.

  Feeling weak I leaned against the kitchen island.

  “Are you doing okay?” Dominic said, coming over to my side.

  Ignoring the concern in his eyes, my gaze dropped to the tiled floor. There was a pool of dried blood under what looked to be the pantry door. “Dominic.”

  “I see it.” He approached cautiously. After pressing his ear to the door for a moment, he turned the door handle.

  A woman’s body tumbled out and hit the tile with a thud. On contact, foul-smelling liquid seeped out from underneath her. The putrid smell was overwhelming. Gagging, I covered my nose with my hand.

  My brain failed to reconcile the decomposing features of the corpse with the smiling woman in the photo. Based on her brown hair, it had to be the mother. A wide swath of green fabric wrapped around her torso like a sash.

  Dominic peered over the woman. “Bullet to the head like the children. Looks like a twenty-two caliber handgun.” He pointed at the bandage on the mottled flesh of her arm. “She may have been infected.”

  My vision swam. For a second, the corpse wore the face of my mother. I blinked fast, shoving the memories away. This house was getting to me.

  Something under the fabric moved.

  Shock punched me in the gut. “Check the baby sling.” I pointed at the bunched-up green cloth.

  He parted the fabric with the tip of his knife. “Christ.” The color drained from his face.

  Oh my God.

  The glimpse of the thing inside the fabric pouch made my heart drop like a stone. The floor seemed to undulate under my feet.

  Stomach rolling, I staggered to the sink and threw up for the second time that day. Mortified, I stared at the collection of sippy cups by the faucet, waiting for Dominic to lay into me for being weak.

  He handed me a bottle of water. “Here, take this.”

  “Not if it came from there.” I flapped my hand weakly in the direction of the pantry.

  “It came from back at the office.”

  Surprised and grateful, I grabbed it out of his hand and rinsed my mouth out.

  “This will help too,” he said, handing me a stick of gum.

  He was right. The bite of cinnamon chased away the bitter taste in my mouth.

  As I turned to thank him, the sight of the wriggling bab…creature assaulted me. “Aren’t you going to… kill it?”

  Dominic shrugged. “It’s not a threat.”

  My mouth gaped open. “You can’t just leave it.”

  “If it bothers you so much, then you take care of it.” Dominic lifted his eyebrows in challenge.

  A tiny shriveled hand flailed in the air.

  My stomach lurched again. “I can’t stay here.” Pushing past Dominic, I rushed back into the living room.

  Before I could wrench the splintered front door open, Dominic came from behind. He slapped a palm on it, forcing it shut.

  “Where the hell do you think you’re going?”

  I stumbled back, nearly falling into the tricycle at my feet. “Anywhere but here.”

  “You go out there unprepared, you’re dead.”

  Only sheer willpower kept my lips from uttering the words, I’m already dead.

  He stepped closer, until his chest filled my line of sight. “What’s rule number four?”

  “Always have a weapon.” I raised my knife in front of him for inspection. “Look, I’m ready. Can we leave now? I need to get out of this house.” I hated the pleading tone in my voice.

  “Do you think a couple of dead kids are the worst things you’re going to see out there? Do you think things are going to be better at another house?”

  He didn’t give me a chance to respond. “You can’t run from this.” He spread his arms out. “This is the world we live in.”

  I shook my head in denial as he took a step forward cornering me between the wall and the door.

  “There’s a good chance there’s a car here large enough to fit the five of us. Also, the guy was military so there are probably weapons and ammo here that we need. If you’re done having a panic attack, can we get back to our mission?”

  I shut my eyes tightly.

  I need to pull myself together.

  “You’re right.”

  “I always am,” he said in a tone dripping with I-told-you-so.

  My eyes flew open, and I was filled with the overwhelming urge to punch him in the stomach.

  He chuckled and took a step forward. “That’s the fire I want to see.” His hand was warm on my chin as he tilted my head up. “I know you can handle this. Remember fear is a reaction, but courage is a decision. The next time you find yourself losing it, focus on your breath.”

  “My breath?”

  “Most people forget to breathe in stressful situations. Remember rule number seven.”

  “Keep a clear head.” I recited.

  “Very good.”

  His praise enveloped me like a warm hug.

  “Instead of locking up, inhale courage and determination. Visualize yourself getting stronger. Your mind getting sharper. Breathe out the fear and the negative emotions. Feel the weakness leaving your body.” He took an exaggerated breath and exhaled loudly.

  Following his lead, I took a deep shaky breath and let it out with a heavy sigh that made me glad he’d given me some
gum to freshen my breath.

  “Good. Continue breathing just like that. Anytime you get scared, remember to breathe. You can lower your weapon now.”

  With dawning horror, I realized that my knife was an inch away from his breastbone. The sharp blade shone in the dull gray light. One thrust and he’d be gone. Just like…

  Before I could complete the thought, there was a loud thump.

  Every cell of my body went on the alert.

  Dominic stiffened.

  The hair on the nape of my neck prickled as I whispered, “The father.”

  7

  The thumping sounded again.

  The angles of Dominic’s face sharpened as he turned his head toward the staircase.

  The sound seemed to be coming from above us.

  “I’m going to check it out. You stay right here.”

  Before I could respond, he stepped over the baby gate and headed up the stairs.

  The realization that Dominic didn’t trust me to cover his back made me want to hang my head in shame. Given how I acted in the kitchen, I couldn’t blame him.

  The seconds crept by.

  The man in the family photo had hands as large as his children’s heads.

  What if Dominic is facing off against that giant right now?

  Anxiety had given birth to all-out panic by the time Dominic appeared at the top of the stairs.

  “It’s all clear up here. The sound seems to be coming from outside.”

  A relieved breath whooshed out of me.

  “I found a gun safe in the master bedroom. I’m going to try to find the keys. Sit tight.”

  “Let me help you look.”

  “Just stay out of the way,” he said, disappearing again.

  His words hit like needle-tipped darts. I glared up at him. I was tired of him underestimating me.

  I’m not useless.

  His mentioning keys made me think about the keys hanging by the phone in the kitchen. I could look for car keys, but I’d have to go back…in there.

  It’s not my mother’s body in there.

  I closed my eyes tightly.

  You can do this.

  My eyes snapped open as resolve filled every cell in my body. Straightening my shoulders, I headed back through the living room to the kitchen. I kept my line of sight above hip level and made a beeline for the counter with the docked phone.

  Several sets of keys vied for space on a tiny hook, but none looked like car keys. A white rabbit’s foot dangled from one key chain. On closer inspection, I saw that it held a small black remote fob with a car manufacturer’s logo on it.

  Maybe they have one of those keyless entry vehicles. It’s worth a shot. Now to find the garage.

  Snatching the key chain, I scanned the kitchen.

  There was a half-open door across from the pantry that looked like it led to a laundry room.

  Maybe the entrance to the garage is through there.

  Only one problem. The corpse and that…thing…were between me and the door.

  Summoning the tattered remains of my inner strength, I stepped around the dead woman. Not able to help it, my gaze strayed to the baby sling.

  The now-empty baby sling.

  My mouth went dry.

  Oh, God. Where is it?

  A smear of dark fluid trailed from the dead woman to the dining room. My grip on my knife tightened.

  Leave it. Find the car.

  Out of the corner of my eye, I saw the bottom of the tablecloth on the dining room table flutter. The hair on my arms stood on end.

  Just find the car.

  I hastily stepped over the woman’s body and ducked into a narrow laundry room. Automatically, my hands fumbled for a light switch. Quickly realizing the ridiculousness of my quest, I berated myself. At some point, I’d get used to a world with no electricity.

  After retrieving my flashlight, I scanned the walk-in-closet-sized area. Two side-by-side front loaders sat across from an ironing board laden with stacks of folded clothes.

  No zombies here.

  There was a rustling sound behind me. Not taking any chances, I quickly shut the laundry room door. That left me staring at a closed door that had to lead to the garage.

  Following Dominic’s rulebook, I pressed an ear to the door.

  Silence.

  I debated waiting for Dominic. Then I remembered the condescending way he ordered me to stay out of the way.

  I’ll show him weak and worthless.

  Squaring my shoulders, I rapped my knife against the door.

  No sounds of clicking teeth or Biters pounding from the other side.

  Slowly, I turned the handle into the dusty gloom of a garage. My nose wrinkled at the smell that rushed to greet me. Motor oil mixed with the fetid odor of rotting garbage and something else. Something my senses didn’t recognize. Then the beam of my flashlight reflected off the hood of a minivan and I forgot all about the smell.

  Hell yeah! We have a vehicle.

  I rushed to the van. The doors were locked, but I had a lucky rabbit’s foot and a remote. I pressed the unlock button. Relief pounded through me as one door on the side of the van slid open and the interior light turned on. That meant the battery was still working.

  Is a full tank of gas too much to hope for?

  I opened the driver’s door and leaned in to peer at the console.

  Crap. A digital fuel gauge. I’ll need to get the engine started to see it.

  I’d just slid into the driver’s seat, when a loud crash rattled my bones.

  In the far corner of the garage, a mountain of a man dressed in army fatigues hung from a noose. My blood turned to slush at the sight of his desert combat boots kicking soundlessly in the air above an overturned step stool. His hands clawed at the rope tethering him to a ceiling-mounted storage rack.

  As the dead soldier swayed back and forth like a pendulum, his black lips peeled back in a snarl and his jaw unhinged. I’d only seen one other zombie do that.

  Eden.

  The noose, tight around his throat, prevented him from releasing the spine-chilling shriek that was becoming all too familiar to me.

  Another Howler. How is this possible?

  There was no time to puzzle it over. The creature kicked faster and faster. Its muscular body jerked and swayed. The momentum sent it crashing into the nearby workbench.

  Tools clattered to the floor.

  The rope started to fray.

  Crap. I need to get out of here.

  Before I made it three steps from the minivan, the sound of rope snapping and boots landing hard on cement stopped me in my tracks.

  “Dominic,” I screamed.

  The Howler straightened to its full height, well over six and a half feet tall.

  Do I try to dart past it?

  If it had Eden’s speed and reflexes, that’d be suicidal. Going for the safer option, I ducked back into the minivan and slammed the driver’s door closed. I pressed the car horn, hoping that would alert Dominic.

  The Howler’s eyes snapped open.

  Shit. The side door of the van is open.

  Stomach in my throat, I dove to the second row of seats. Dropping the flashlight, I used both my hands to yank on the door handle.

  The door began its painfully slow mechanical slide forward. “Close, damn it!” I screamed.

  The Howler took a step forward.

  Finally, the door clicked shut. Not willing to take any chances, I pressed the automatic door lock button. My frantic movements sent the flashlight rolling off a car seat to the floor. It clicked off at the same time the interior light turned off.

  I was left in total darkness.

  Suddenly, I was a little girl again. Shaking in the dark, waiting for the monster to get me.

  Dominic will come, I repeated to myself through shallow pants. My fingers gripped one of the car seats as if it could offer me some protection.

  An ear-piercing howl sliced through the tomblike silence.

  The window next to m
y head shattered. Shards flew at my face. With a muffled scream, I slid over to the center of the van. Ducking between the two car seats, I was momentarily safe from the hands I sensed clawing through the broken glass.

  My gaze locked on the door to the house.

  Any second Dominic will come barreling through. Any second.

  The Howler roared and pounded against the metal side door.

  With a sick feeling, I realized Dominic wasn’t coming. He’d never abandon me. Which meant…grief punched me in the gut.

  Oh, God.

  Metal screamed and buckled. The Howler clawed at the door.

  Pushing the terror away, I remembered Dominic’s final lesson, I took a deep breath. Closing my eyes, I visualized myself inhaling courage and exhaling fear.

  I’m a survivor, not food for this abomination.

  After two breaths, my legs stopped shaking. After the third breath, I was ready.

  With steady hands, I drew my handgun and fired repeatedly in the direction of the window. More glass shattered. A shriek told me I’d hit it. It was a lucky shot, but I couldn’t keep firing blind.

  Ducking down, I fumbled around the floorboard until my fingers curled around the flashlight. Flicking it back on, I pointed the beam of light at the shattered window.

  No Howler.

  I slowly rotated the light around in a circle.

  Nothing.

  No part of me believed it was dead. Like Eden, it would shake off the bullets as if they were foam-tipped darts.

  The oppressive darkness seemed filled with fiendish anticipation.

  The hairs on the back of my neck stood up.

  God, why doesn’t it just attack?

  The light jerked wildly in my trembling hands.

  I had to figure a way out of here. Swallowing back the fear, I called to mind Dominic’s countless lectures on surviving zombie attacks. Biters relied on scent more than vision to track prey. That could also be used against them. As a plan came together in my mind, I prayed that Howlers operated the same way.

  Clicking off the flashlight, I ripped off my jacket. It left me in a sports bra, but exposing my skin was the least of my worries.

  I wrapped the jacket in a tight bundle. Slowly, I moved from the narrow aisle between the two seats, over to the broken side window. I held my breath.