This Would Be Paradise (Book 3)

by Iverson, N. D.

  “What’s that for?” Mac asked.

  “I’m hoping George here can draw us a map.”

  I flipped through one of the books until I got to the couple of blank pages at the back, then passed it to George. When he looked up at me, I mouthed “escape” and “map.” A smile spread across his face as he picked up one of the crayons and began drawing lines on the page. Mac and I held our breath as we watched him draw out various corridors. Eventually it began to look like a maze from all the lines, but that was more due to the cramped drawing space and dull crayon.

  When George finished, he put down the crayon and gave me back the book. I looked it over. He had written “Cafe” to indicate the room we were currently in. According to the map, the main entrance was on the opposite side of the building. And guarded. He’d drawn a stick man beside it and any spot where he had seen a guard posted.

  I smiled and patted George on the hand. He grabbed a different novel and scribbled something down.

  I read his words and answered, mouthing each word so that George could see what I was saying. “When? I don’t know. We need the right moment. Any kink in their schedule you know about?”

  George scribbled some more before turning the page back to me. He had written, “When they send the guards to collect more of the dead ones. Less guards to worry about.”

  I frowned. We had missed that chance yesterday when Amelia sent them out after I killed their last test dummy. “That was yesterday.”

  George furrowed his brow as he tapped the crayon on the table. I turned to Mac as George thought on it and passed him the book. The guards were blocked from my view thanks to Mac and George sitting in front of me, so they didn’t see us shifting the book back and forth.

  “Is this the part where I have to stuff the map down my pants?” Mac joked as he examined George’s drawing.

  “Please don’t do that,” I deadpanned.

  “What if the guards find it?”

  “Can we take books back to our rooms?” I asked and Mac shrugged.

  “You think his drawings are correct?” Mac asked.

  We both looked at George, who was scribbling down something new. It wasn’t like he’d heard what Mac said, but still, it was rude to talk about him while he was right there.

  “Not like we have a bunch of mapmakers to choose from.”

  George shoved his book at me again, but before I could finish reading the words, the cafeteria doors opened yet again. This time it wasn’t Josh. When Amelia came through with more guards, all the prisoners stopped what they were doing and turned to her, their faces masks of fury and horror. Some ducked their heads, trying to make themselves shrink into their environment. No one wanted to be the next name called.

  Amelia’s face looked as bruised as mine felt. I was getting good at punching people. The three macho guys I had talked to earlier definitely took notice as the blond leader looked from Amelia to me and back again. Now he would believe me. She continued to speed walk over to where I was sitting. Jesus, not again.

  When she approached our table, her face was passive but something was lurking underneath that calm. I could see her hands twitching inside her lab coat pockets. Mac quickly slammed the book shut.

  Amelia stood a foot from the end of the table and took a breath before speaking. “Mac, come with me, please.”

  I jumped up in my seat. “I thought you were out of infected?”

  Mac stared down at the table, sitting ramrod straight. My outburst may have just made things worse.

  “No need to concern yourself, you’ll be coming too,” Amelia said with zero emotion.

  Mac looked up at me, confused. The others never mentioned them taking two at a time for the experiments. Having two of us against an infected would actually be better, so I was doubly suspicious. What the hell did she have in store for us?

  Amelia jerked her head toward us and the guards sprang into action as if they were trained dogs. They grabbed both Mac and me in a tight grip and led us toward the doors. I looked back to see George slip the book into the pocket of his robe and give me a small thumbs-up sign, but his gesture didn’t match the worried look on his face.

  Chapter 6

  We were brought back down the dark and quiet hallway that led to the room where I had been forced to kill the infected with my bare hands. I tried to catch Mac’s attention without saying anything, but his gaze was firmly fixated on his feet. He was probably freaking out. He knew what was waiting for him thanks to the stories. Amelia stopped at the door beside the room I had been shoved in the day before.

  “Put him inside. Bring her in here with me,” Amelia ordered.

  I pushed against the guard trying to pull me into the other room. “What are you planning to do?” I yelled. “I’m the one you want to put in there.”

  Mac’s face was expressionless as the other guard opened the door to the padded room and gently pushed him inside. Mac wasn’t resisting. He must have been in shock.

  “Mac, don’t worry, I’ll get you out of there,” I screamed, but I had no idea how I would go about that. I turned to Amelia. “I’m the one you want to punish, you bitch! Put me in there again!” I would survive a bite; Mac wouldn’t.

  “Bring her in here,” Amelia said with force.

  The guard resumed his attempt at trying to stuff me into the other room. I managed to wrench myself out of his hold and kicked him as hard as I could in the nuts. His armor didn’t include a cup apparently as he sank to his knees, grasping at his injured junk and groaning. I ran like a linebacker and smashed straight into the other guard just as he was shutting the door to the padded cell. We flew to the ground and I tried to do the same thing to him as I did to the other guard, but he wasn’t going to allow that.

  The guard reared his feet up and shoved me back hard like a kangaroo. I flew back and to the side, slamming into the solid cement wall. My lungs froze at the impact, my breathing momentarily suspended. I struggled to get some oxygen and breath through the pain from the collision with the very solid wall. The guard who had kicked me had gotten up and grabbed both of my feet. I was dragged into the next room, still coughing up a fit as my lungs started working again.

  The other room was small and skinny and dark. There was a desk attached to the wall and above it, the two-way mirror Rose had mentioned. They were going to make me watch Mac die. To them, he was immune and would suffer a simple bite. To me, it was watching an execution of a friend.

  I was still lying on the floor and couldn’t see through the mirror from my angle. I rolled to my side and tried to sit up.

  “Try anything again, and Carlos will tranquilize you,” Amelia warned. “But not enough to put you to sleep; just enough to keep you awake and lucid, but docile.”

  Carlos must’ve been the guard I had kicked in the nuts, because he gave me a sick sneer from his bent-over position, like he was already hoping I would try something. The other guard had moved his hands from my feet to my arm and yanked me to my feet. The man-handling from the guards was pissing me off. Next time, I would be angling to break some arms.

  I swayed on my feet at first. The guard turned me so that I was now facing the two-way mirror. Mac was in the corner of the padded room on the opposite side of the mirror. He was standing extremely still, his eyes glazed over. They had tried to hose off the mess I’d left on the floor, but there was still a large, ominous russet-colored stain where the infected’s body had fallen.

  I had no choice, I had to tell them. “He’s not immune,” I said.

  Amelia’s head whipped from the mirror to me. “What did you say?”

  “Mac isn’t immune.”

  “He has a bite mark from an infected.”

  “He did that to himself when your murdering goons killed everyone in his group—including children,” I spat at her.

  She took a step back, her hand flying to her mouth. “Children,” she muttered under her hand.

  “Like you fucking care! You sent them! Now get Mac out of there!” I deman
ded.

  She looked from me to the window a couple of times before swallowing. “I would have never sanctioned for children to be killed. Those mercenaries are godless heathens.”

  I didn’t give a shit if she had some twisted morals where it was okay to subject adults to this torture, but couldn’t handle the thought that children were harmed. Amelia was a monster; as bad as the infected in her own way. She was going to force me to watch as my friend met his end.

  She lowered her head and nodded, her cold expression returning. “Carlos, tell them to bring in the dead one.”

  I knew right then that I would not be leaving this place until I made sure she was dead. Carlos stuck his head out the door and spoke to another who must’ve been standing outside. He came back in and closed the door, flicking the lock. The room was now completely dark except for the light coming in through the two-way mirror.

  My heart rate picked up. “I told you he’s not immune! What’s the point other than to get your rocks off, you twisted bitch!”

  I struggled to get to her. All it would take was my switchblade to her neck to end her. But the guard attached to me like a straightjacket. Carlos came over and yanked my arms behind me painfully and I felt plastic ties cut into my skin as he secured my hands. I tugged against them, ignoring the blood leaking down my arm from the plastic edges piercing my skin. I was helpless. I couldn’t get Mac out of this and now I was going to be punished for it.

  “Mac may not be immune, but that doesn’t mean he won’t aid our study. We can record and time the turning process to better understand how it affects non-immune people.”

  “You’re killing him is what you’re doing!” My voice came out cracked.

  The door to the padded cell opened and a new infected was led through with the animal catcher rod. Mac flattened himself against the soft wall, his eyes wide. The wire around the infected’s neck loosened and slipped over its head, and then the door was slammed behind it. Immediately the infected started toward Mac in the corner. Mac’s head whipped back and forth, like he was trying to convince himself this wasn’t happening. Just before the infected reached him, Mac ran around it like I had and then began a game of tag with the infected.

  I tore my gaze from the window. “You can stop this right now.” I tried a softer voice. “You’re just as bad as the mercenaries if you let an innocent man die.”

  “I am nothing like them!” Amelia all but yelled at me. I had struck a nerve. “What I am doing will save the rest of our species. We just need more time.”

  A painful yell brought me back to looking through the mirror. The infected had sunk its teeth into the back of Mac’s leg. Somehow the thing had fallen, but its hands and teeth reached Mac’s calf. I lurched forward, my throat swelling with the urge to cry.

  “Get them to remove the dead one,” Amelia ordered and once again, Carlos opened the door and barked instructions to the person outside.

  The padded cell door opened almost immediately. Josh walked through with the animal catcher rod with the noose portion slackened. The infected paid Josh no mind as he was busy chewing through the piece of Mac’s leg he had bitten off. Like he was approaching a timid animal, Josh tiptoed toward the back of the infected. Once in range, he deftly dropped the wire metal noose over its head and tightened. He pulled up and back, and the infected resisted but still got up. Its arms clawed at Mac lying on the ground, angry that it had been denied the rest of its meal.

  Josh started to pull the thing toward the door, but it veered off and slammed into the mirror. We jerked back as the mirror pulsated lightly from the contact. One more jerk and Josh managed to get the infected back out of the room. Mac scrambled away until he hit the padded wall, his leg leaking a trail of blood.

  “He’s going to die of blood loss,” I said, my eyes blurring from the tears.

  “Just keep watching,” Amelia said.

  Josh re-entered the room without the infected, carrying a medium-sized duffle bag. He proceeded to walk toward Mac and leaned down in front of him. Josh grabbed Mac’s injured leg and spread it out, ripping open the torn pant leg. He reached into the bag and pulled out a wad of gauze and compression press. He tore into the bag and placed the press over the bite wound for a minute. Mac cried out in pain, his head knocking back with his eyes squeezed shut. I’m so sorry, Mac.

  Then Josh took off the press and sprayed some disinfectant on the wound, making Mac yell once again. My own leg throbbed in sympathy. Josh put a clean compression press on the wound and fastened it by wrapping gauze around Mac’s leg and tying it off. It made no sense that they were using medical supplies on a soon-to-be-dead man, but maybe they were expecting the turning process to take a while and didn’t want their subject to die from blood loss first. Or maybe they were thinking that the disinfectant would slow the spread of the infection.

  Mac said something to Josh, but we couldn’t hear in the next room. Josh patted Mac’s arm and got up and left, closing the door behind him.

  Through clenched teeth I said, “So what now?”

  “We wait and record.”

  Chapter 7

  It was a stressful two hours. At first Mac seemed fine other than the injury on his leg. Within an hour he had developed a cough and we could see that the skin surrounding the wound had become grey in color, like he was already a corpse. His coughing increased and soon he was spewing blood with each hack. I let out a choppy breath. He’s not going to last much longer.

  The entire time I had been trying to slip out of my plastic cuffs, but all it earned me was a pair of cut up and raw wrists. The guards must’ve noticed, but let me keep trying, knowing I was just injuring myself more. Amelia had used our quality time together to fill me in on what they had discovered through their experiments.

  “How long the virus needs to take over depends on if the host is alive or not. The virus has free run if the host is dead, because nothing is fighting it anymore. That’s why those who die during an attack turn faster than those who are just bit or scratched. If it’s a non-fatal attack, the time between initial infection and complete incubation in the patient is not uniform, but we have seen that the closer the bite or scratch is to the brain on the body of the victim, the less time it takes.

  “The body is medically dead, but something inside the host reacts with the virus and the body seems to reanimate, defying the laws of science. What the virus reacts with, we’re not sure. By running tests on the immune, we are trying to rule out what it could and couldn’t be. We’ve had immune from many different cultures, backgrounds, blood types, age, gender, genetics, and we still can’t narrow down what it is in you that renders the virus harmless.”

  “So … I’m lacking whatever it is that the virus latches onto?” I asked, more confused than before.

  Amelia nodded. “According to our findings, it would appear so.”

  Mac drew our attention back to the padded room when he collapsed onto his side, and with one last wheezing gasp, he stopped breathing. The tears that had been threatening finally fell. On one hand I was devastated to have witnessed Mac’s death and to have not been able to help, but on the other, I was glad Mac was no longer being forced to suffer. I may not have been able to save you, but I sure as hell will make Amelia, and everyone who’s a part of this, pay!

  Mac laid still for a minute, then small tremors started in his limbs. His bitten leg jerked and his shoulder slid out from under him, sending him onto his back. It was eerie to watch a dead man start moving once again. That thought had never really sunk in until now. It really did defy all the laws of science. The convulsions wracking his body increased in their tempo, his limbs and torso now jolting all over the place as if he was having a seizure.

  Amelia leaned forward, her face riveted on what was happening to Mac, not caring in the least that she was the reason behind it. God, I wanted her dead and even more so, I wanted to be the one to kill her.

  The seizing stopped, and Mac laid still once again—but not for long. He stood up in one swif
t motion, his teeth gnashing together. All of the blood vessels in his eyes had burst, his pale blue irises sticking out among a wash of red. He got to his feet and ran at the door, smashing into it with substantial force.

  “It’s amazing how fast and strong the freshly turned are,” Amelia said.

  I was reminded of when Taylor turned and how quickly he had made a dash for John and then for Zoe.

  Amelia continued my science lesson. “It’s a good thing for us, that as their body decays, that speed and strength is diminished.”

  “Once they’re turned, the body still decays?” I asked, my eyes not leaving Mac’s form as he snarled and bashed into the door of the padded room.

  “Yes, they’re essentially dying. When they feed on the non-immune, they do appear to be receiving some kind of nourishment, hence why they don’t just rot and fall apart immediately. But”—she looked at me through the corner of her eyes—“I have no idea how their anatomy works since they threw all we thought we knew about the human body out the window when they started coming back from the dead.”

  So they really knew nothing about this infection or how it worked. They were subjecting us to theses horrors for nothing because there would be no cure, at least not one these blind idiots would find. All these lives wasted.

  I turned to face Amelia square on. “You think what you’re doing here will make a difference but it won’t. You’re doing this for you.” At that, I ran forward, taking the guard holding my arm with me, and head-butted Amelia. She let out a screech and fell back.

  “That’s it! Send her in there!” Amelia used the sleeve of her pristine white lab coat to wipe the blood trickling from her nose. Her bangs were tossed over her eyes, but I could see them seething with rage underneath. She wasn’t used to being opposed so much. If she thought I was going to break, she had another thing coming.