This Would Be Paradise (Book 2) (25 page)

I put down my backpack, placing my gun on top of it for easy access, and stripped off my dirty clothes, flinging them to the ground. I hopped into the tub and squirted a huge handful of body wash right on top of my head. Crouching uncomfortably, I had to bend down to gather water and wash my hair while my head scraped along the bottom of the tub. Next I scrubbed the crusted blood from my skin until it felt raw. My elbow didn’t appreciate the movement, but I ignored the dull ebb of pain. At least the pain level wasn’t even close to when I’d originally injured it falling off that fence.

The blood ran off me like melting snow, staining the water a grisly red color. I ran my hands through my wet hair again and again for good measure, making sure I got all the brains out. I chuckled at the absurdity of that. Good thing I wouldn’t be scarred for life or anything.

Using the rough towel, I dried off and put on my borrowed clothes. The shirt was a bit tight and rather low-cut, but the sweats were a good fit. After I gathered my backpack and gun, I opened the door to find Darren gone.
So much for standing guard.

“Darren!” I hissed down the hall.

I held my breath and listened for him. When I couldn’t pick up anything, I tiptoed farther down the hall, with my Beretta at the forefront. Door after door revealed that Darren was nowhere to be seen.

I continued to the end of the hall, noticing that the door to the gory dorm room was closed. Darren must have closed the door to spare me the sight of whatever was inside. When I reached the last room on the left, I found Darren standing inside with his back to me.

“What the hell do you think you’re doing?” I said, enraged.

He turned to me and held up a baggie.

“You left me unguarded for pot?!”

Darren called my attention to the floor where there was a plastic bag overflowing with Styrofoam cups. “And soup cups. Besides, you were fine, and I checked all the open rooms for infected.”

“Something could have attacked me while I was bathing!”

“Like I said, you were fine,” he said as though my concern was senseless. He was the one berating me earlier for not paying attention while I searched for clothes.

I pointed to the bag of rolled-up doobies. “Let me guess. This was the real reason we came to the university, right?”

Darren looked pleased with himself. “Food was my main thought, but I figured there was a high chance we’d find some.”

I sighed. “You better share that.”

“I was thinking we head to the sun deck I spotted and light one up. Not like there are schedules anymore.”

“Well, we do have a stockpile of junk food,” I mused. My ire started to dissipate. “Why not?”

After the week I’d had, getting stoned seemed like a reprieve, and it was probably the best offer I’d heard since the infected took over. Plus, my elbow was bugging me, and there was nothing like a little pot to help with the pain.

Noticing that I was poking at my elbow, Darren said, “Now that you’re all cleaned up, let’s take a look at that elbow.”

He kneeled and dug through his backpack, producing a white plastic box with a red cross on it. Inside was the usual fair: bandages, scissors, peroxide, gauze. He pulled out the light brown elastic wraps used to treat sprained ankles and stood. After unraveling the wrap, Darren wound it tightly around my elbow and tied off the ends. The pressure turned the pain into a manageable ache.

“Thanks,” I said and inspected my newly wrapped appendage.

I wondered after all the injuries my elbow had sustained if it would be permanently messed up like my dad’s bum knee from one too many baseball slides.

“Take a few of these. It’ll help with the swelling.” Darren plunked two pills in my hand.

At my curious stare, Darren explained, “Ibuprofen helps reduce swelling.”

Trusting him, I swallowed the pills dry.

We headed back to down the corridor toward where Darren had found the water cooler jug. The small lounge and communal kitchen had been picked clean, but the lounge had a door leading to a balcony that connected to a deck farther up. Darren opened the door and a wave of fresh air hit me, blowing through my wet hair. A shiver ran up my spine. The mid-afternoon sun was hours away from setting. Bright light shone between buildings, reflecting off the glass. The sight would make for a great postcard picture for Tulane.

“Hold the door open while I look for something to prop it open with,” Darren said.

He took off in search of something heavy. I looked down to my left and saw a cement block sitting there, so I picked it up and used it to keep the door open.

Darren’s eye’s bulged when I came up beside him. “What are you doing? You want to get locked out here?”

“Calm down. There was a cement block right beside the door, Sherlock.”

We went up the set of stairs to the deck, which had a variety of lounger chairs to choose from. An infected was sightseeing from the ledge but turned as we approached. Darren sprinted toward the infected.

“Darren, what are you—!”

He shoved the infected with the full force of his speed behind him, and the infected toppled backward, flailing over the side. I ran up to the ledge and watched the infected splatter against the pavement, its head cracking open like a dropped egg.

“That was crazy,” I said.

Darren shrugged and left to secure the rest of the sun deck.

I knew this was a bad idea; I could almost hear John berating Darren and me for being stupid, but forgetting about everything for a while was beyond appealing and almost necessary. I was so tired of constantly worrying and being on edge. I wanted a brief chance to relax. Was that so wrong?

Plus, I had Darren with me. He was proving himself more useful as the day went on. And we were stashed safely away on the deck, two floors off the ground, with scores of junk food. All we were missing was a season of
The Office
to binge watch.

Darren returned, told me the area was secure, and plunked down on a lounger. He tore into his backpack.

Fuck it.
With a mental shrug, I sat on the chair beside Darren and lay back to enjoy the view.

Two joints later, we’d chewed through a couple of chip bags each. I had no idea of how much time had passed, but the sun was no longer above us and instead, now was closer to the tops of the buildings. I was feeling pretty good. I always preferred pot to drinking for the sheer fact I wouldn’t have a hangover later. We sat in companionable silence, eating our fill and wondering about the pretty colors shining off rooftops and windows as the sun set.

Darren turned to me. “You know I had nothing to do with those murders, right?”

It took me a minute to gather my thoughts away from the setting sun and come up with coherent words. “I know.”

I hadn’t told him about our findings in Wyatt’s condo. And I really didn’t want to have this conversation with him, not while I was high and definitely not when I was sober.

“Good.” He nodded and returned to gazing at the city skyline.

I snorted and then started to laugh. “But when we first met, I thought something was up with you. I mean, where were your friends?”

Darren put down his chips, his face falling. “I left them.”

There was an awkward pause, which I ruined by laughing again. He shot me a hurt look.

“Sorry. I’m normally not a giggler when I smoke pot.” I giggled again, ruining my previous claim.

“That wasn’t the only thing,” Darren said cryptically.

“I told
you
everything. Quid pro quo, Clarice.” I snickered again at my lame joke.

Darren took a breath through his nose. “I had to kill one of my friends.”

That stopped my giggles.

“It was back at our hotel. My buddy, Brodie, got bit by one of the infected downtown while we were all plastered. The stupid bastard wanted to stay and keep drinking, but we forced him back to the hotel room to patch him up.” Darren gave me a sad smile. “Within an hour, he was really bad, and another hour after that, he stopped breathing. We were freaking out, still drunk when he … came back. I had to bash his head in with the tiny closet safe that wasn’t bolted down.”

“I can’t even imagine.” I didn’t think I could ever do that to Zoe, and especially not back then.

“I felt so guilty this whole time,” Darren said. “We’d driven to New Orleans as a road trip, but after Brodie died, they panicked and drove back home to Wisconsin. I thought that was a stupid idea, so I left them and headed for the school. I don’t even know if they got out of the city alive.”

I took a big lungful of air, trying to stifle the urge to laugh. I swore I wasn’t normally like this.

“I feel guilty for a lot of shit too,” I confessed.

Darren smacked his hand down on the lounger. “You have nothing to feel guilty about.”

“I killed two people, Darren.” I paused. “Shit, I guess it’s up to four now.”

“Once again, you had no choice. It’s kill or be killed.”

I hadn’t realized how much of a burden holding this in had been. Between my admission in the truck and here, I felt the straps of my heavy conscience loosen once again. It was liberating, adding to my current high. We fell back into silence, chewing on each other’s words instead of on our chips.

“Come at me, you crusty, pox-filled motherfuckers!”

I turned to Darren. “What did you say to me?”

“That wasn’t me.” Darren looked back at me, confused.

I jumped to my feet, but a wave of dizziness sent me back to the lounger.

“Whoa,” I said, holding my hand to my forehead.

Darren stumbled to the ledge, his steps slightly off. We were really baked. Fear ran through me and panic closed in. This had been a bad idea. How could we fight infected while high? I could barely stand, let alone shoot. This was how those fatal accidents you hear about on the news happened.

“Holy shit, there’s a kid down there!” Darren yelled louder than was necessary.

“That’s no way for a kid to talk,” I yelled back, slapping a hand over my mouth at the volume. And then I started to laugh again. I really shouldn’t be yelling.

“Well, he’s more like a teenager,” Darren bellowed.

I got up again, and this time the floor stayed put under my feet. I walked over to Darren and peeked over the ledge. Indeed, a teen boy was running along the main boulevard that split the campus in half. Infected roamed all over the place like scattered game pieces. The boy was easy to spot with his short but shaggy electric blue hair.

He shot at a bunch of the infected with a handgun. The sound bounced off the buildings, echoing through the streets.

“Take that, you brainless fucks!” he yelled again as if expecting them to shout an insult back.

“That stupid shithead is going to bring in all the infected!” Darren grumbled.

“We need to shut him up,” I said.

“We could shoot him from here,” Darren said.

“What?!” I jerked my head to face him.

Darren put his hands in the air. “I’m joking.”

I narrowed my eyes. “Should we yell at him to shut up?”

“If he knows we’re here, he’ll head for the dorm’s front doors, which are currently zip tied, and the other entrances are probably locked,” Darren said.

I jogged around the entire perimeter of the sundeck, looking for a fire escape.

“Here!” I flagged Darren over. “We can tell him to run over here.”

Darren jogged over, almost tripping over the leg of a folding chair.

“He’ll bring the whole horde with him, and we’ll probably need that for our own escape.”

“Well, we can’t just leave the kid to die.”

“He’s egging them on,” Darren argued.

“You want to start working away at that guilt?” I asked. “Then start by helping people.”

Apparently I turned into a philosopher when I was high.

Darren ran his tongue over his teeth. “Fine.”

I ran back to the side of the deck facing the street and cupped my hands around my mouth. “Hey! Kid with the stupid blue hair!”

Darren raised a brow at my word choice. We watched the kid stop his tirade and look around, blue head whipping back and forth.

“On top of the dorm!” Darren piped in.

His stare shot toward us, and I waved my arms as if I were front row at a concert.

“Head to the south side. There’s a fire escape you can climb!”

He darted across the boulevard, taking out more infected with his loud handgun. We followed him around the deck until he disappeared around the west wing of the dorm. We ran to the south side to see if he’d made it. After a few minutes, his blue hair came into view. Once he reached the fire escape, he looked up.

“It’s not all the way down!” he shouted.

I scanned the area for an idea.

“Push the trash bin closer,” Darren said, his mind working quicker than mine.

“Are you kidding me? What about the pinheads?”

It took me a couple seconds to get who he was referring to. I started to laugh at his nickname for the infected.

Darren rolled his eyes as I struggled to contain my laughter. “I thought you said you weren’t the giggly type.”

“I’m not, I swear!”

Darren turned back to the kid. “Maybe you shouldn’t have run around yelling then, yeah?”

He flipped Darren the middle finger.

“Little shit,” Darren muttered.

“Pfft …” I smothered another round of laughter.

The rusted wheels squealed as the kid pushed the garbage bin toward the fire escape. If I could hear it from the deck, that meant the infected could also hear it. A bunch of them poured in from around the corner the teen had come from.

The kid shot off a few rounds, not even making a dent in the swarm. I stumbled back to the lounger, trying to sober up with every inhale.

“What are you doing?” Darren asked, following me.

“Getting my Beretta,” I said, grabbing the gun.

“Shooting while stoned isn’t a good idea,” Darren scolded.

“The kid’s going to become a live happy meal if we don’t do something!”

Darren blinked, and then started to laugh. Oh sure, now he got the giggles. I ran back over to the ledge to see the teen on top of the garbage bin, reaching up for the end of the fire escape. The infected surrounded the bin, their hands grabbing for him.

I took deep breaths to clear my head, and I slapped my cheek. If my aim was off, I might accidentally hit the blue-haired teen. His legs flailed below as he clung to the bottom of the fire escape, enticing the infected like a squirming piñata. One of the infected latched onto his leg, and he yelled a slew of curse words that even made
me
cringe.

Using the ledge to steady my arm, I aimed for the offending infected and pulled the trigger. The thing’s head blew back, its falling body knocking down a few of the others. The teen’s head jerked up.

“Hey! You could’ve hit me, you crazy bitch!”

“You’re welcome asshole!” I yelled back.

Instead of arguing, the kid swung back and forth until he got enough momentum to hook his legs onto the bottom rung of the ladder, so he was hanging upside down. From there, he pulled himself upright and scaled the ladder. Taking the steps two at a time, he ran up the metal stairs while the infected swarmed below like a pool of enraged sharks denied their meal.

Darren and I helped the kid onto the sun deck. The teen hunched over, bracing his hands on his knees as he caught his breath. Even bent over, the teen was obviously tall and lanky. His electric blue hair was matted with sweat and dark circles hung under his eyes. He looked like he hadn’t gotten a good night’s sleep—or a full meal—in months. He was as pale as me after a long Canadian winter, but who wouldn’t be after all that running and climbing.

“Holy”—he took a deep lungful of air—“shit.”

“Thanks, kid. Now you’ve trapped us as well,” Darren said as if he were a father scolding his son.

“Kid? What are you, fifty?”

Darren bristled, and the teen turned from Darren to me, giving me a lopsided grin. “Why hello there. What’s your name?”

“Crazy bitch, remember?” I said.

His grinned widened. “I was a little frazzled at the moment. Didn’t mean anything by it. Let’s start over. I’m Colin, but I prefer Captain Awesome.”

“Captain Douche would be more appropriate,” Darren said, getting his jabs in.

Colin ignored Darren and extended a sweaty palm my way. I looked down at it until he wiped his hand on his shorts.

“I’m Bailey, and the old guy here is Darren.” I took his dry, outstretched hand with a chuckle.

Darren mumbled something, not unlike an old man, making me laugh harder.

“What’s wrong with you two?” Colin sniffed the air. “You stoned? Care to share?”

“What are you, thirteen? No way in hell I’m giving pot to a kid.”

“Fifteen, actually, and who cares? It’s the end of the world. We’re all fucked.”

“Is that why you were running down the street like you had a death wish?” I asked.

“More or less.” His eyes drifted to my cleavage, which the V-neck shirt I borrowed showed off more than my usual shirts. Lecherous teen boy.

I crossed my arms over my chest, covering my apparently enticing cleavage.

“Turn around. We have to check you for bites,” Darren instructed.

I hadn’t even thought of that. At least one of us had a semi-working brain.

“That your excuse for checking out
young
boys?” Colin taunted.

“If you don’t let us, I’ll toss your ass right back over the ledge,” Darren said.

After the way he’d steamrolled that infected earlier, I assumed it wouldn’t be too hard for Darren to do it either.

“Fine,” Colin said and turned to face the city skyline.

Darren patted him down, confiscating the teen’s handgun and a giant knife from the backpack he wore.

“I’ll give these back when you give us more information,” Darren said. “He’s clear.”

Darren walked over to our chairs and put Colin’s weapons into one of the plastic bags. If Colin rummaged through them, the crinkling of the plastic would give us a heads-up.

“Are you with others? Do you have a group somewhere?” Darren asked, launching straight into the interrogation.

“I’m what you call a lone wolf,” Colin said, his thin lips turning up. “Do
you
guys have a group? Or is it just you two?”

“Perhaps,” Darren answered evasively.

Colin narrowed his eyes. “What, you only ask questions, not answer them?”

The teen had quite a mouth on him, which kind of reminded me of, well, me. Minus the blue hair, of course. I’d never gone through that phase.

“You want to come back with us?” I blurted out, and Darren shot me an angered look.

“Uh.” Colin hesitated, brushing his hand up and down the back of his neck.

“Well, sounds like you’re not too interested. Can’t say we didn’t try,” Darren said.

“We can’t just leave him,” I said.