This Would Be Paradise (Book 2) (27 page)

“Fore!” he yelled and swung the baseball bat as if he were golfing.

The head flew back but didn’t fully dislodge from the thing’s neck. Instead, the infected rolled onto its back, gurgling away. Colin lifted the bat and swung downward, caving its skull in.

“That was”—I struggled to find the right word—“unnecessary.”

“Gotta have a little fun every now and then,” Colin said as he cleaned off the bat on the dead infected’s moldy shirt.

That wasn’t really my definition of fun. I ran back to Darren, who was working to pry the sliding doors apart. Colin and I jumped in to help. The tracks squealed as the doors gave way, but then they got jammed on something and wouldn’t open any further. At least the gap we’d created was wide enough for one person to pass through at a time. Darren peered through the dirty glass.

“Looks like there’s a cart stuck on the door track.”

“We can still fit through there.” Colin motioned to the opening. “Why are we at a feed store, anyways?”

“I think that’s pretty obvious,” Darren said, setting down his backpack.

“Getting food for your mother?”

Darren stopped opening his backpack to shoot black look at Colin. At Colin’s taunting smirk, Darren just shook his head and returned to his bag. He produced mini metallic flashlights, handing one to each of us. Was he ever not prepared?

“This going to give off enough light for you, old man?” Colin asked, examining the tiny metallic flashlight.

Darren clicked his on and shone it into Colin’s eyes.

“Fucking hell, old man!” Colin hissed and turned away.

The light reminded me of those annoying halogen headlights that blinded me while driving at night. It was hard to believe such a bright light came from such a small flashlight.

“All right, all right. Let’s go,” I said before the fisticuffs broke out.

Darren took the lead, his handgun in one hand and the flashlight right underneath in the other. I copied his stance, the beam pointing in the same direction as my Beretta. An infected reared up from behind a till as we passed. She was stuck behind the counter, flailing her arms at us. Using my Beretta with the suppressor, I shot the bag lady in the head. She flopped backward onto the conveyer belt of the till next to hers.

“Here we go,” Darren said, shining his flashlight on the end piece of an aisle.

Apparently, before the world deteriorated, the store had been running a special on chicken feed. Fifty percent off! Something touched my foot, and I jumped back as if I’d burned myself.

The stack of feed had toppled over at some point in the past, trapping an infected underneath the heavy pile. A boney hand with one finger missing and the rest gnawed on was feeling around.

I placed a hand on my heart. That had scared the crap out of me.

“You think the feed is still good?” Colin asked and stomped on the wriggling hand.

Darren kneeled down and examined one of the fallen bags.

“I hope so. It’s commercial-grade chicken feed optimized with protein,” Darren read, “and it says here it can last for about six months if stored in a dry place, out of the sun.”

“Don’t chickens eat pretty much everything?” Colin asked.

“Well, there’s not much they won’t eat,” Darren said, standing up.

I pointed my flashlight beam toward the front of the store. “I’ll grab us a few carts while you take care of the squished infected.”

Before they could object, I headed back. A new infected had snuck in through the opening in the doors and was limping toward me, blocking the corral of carts. The light from my flashlight illuminated its discolored face. All of its teeth had fallen out, its black gums visible past its shrunken lips.

I shot it between the eyes and kicked it out of the way of the carts. After shoving a cart in front of the opening to block it, I pushed three stacked carts down the aisle I’d come from. I arrived in time to see Darren shove another bag of feed to the side, freeing the infected underneath. Its skull was partially sunken in, the rest of its body a mix of broken bones and discolored blood and skin. Snapped ribs poked through its shirt, and one leg was bent at a ninety-degree angle.

“Okay, so we won’t take the bags that were touching the infected,” Darren said. “Bailey.”

I shot the barely moving head.

We got to work, staying clear of the bags with zombie goo on them. Colin was huffing worse than Darren or me from the exertion by the time we had pushed the full carts to the front of the store.

“We need to open these doors some more to fit the carts through,” I said, pushing my cart full of feed to the side.

I removed the cart caught in the tracks, and we tried opening the doors again. They parted and we shoved the shopping carts full of feed through. Darren unlatched the tailgate of his truck and piled in the bags of feed. Colin struggled with the bags—to be fair, they weren’t light—but he was a teen boy; he shouldn’t have been struggling that much.

“I’ll help Darren. You watch out for infected, okay?” I said, placing a hand on Colin’s shoulder.

“I’m fine,” he said, sucking wind.

“Just keep a damn eye out, kid,” Darren said. “You’re slowing us down anyway.”

Colin threw the bag he was holding into the truck bed with one last heft and picked up his bat, muttering the whole time. Darren and I hurried to load the rest of the feed. I watched the truck sink lower under the weight. I hoped it wouldn’t affect us mowing down the infected.

Darren hopped down and slammed the tailgate closed. “Let’s go.”

“Colin,” I yelled.

He’d taken off and was almost at the edge of the parking lot. He was going to town on a fallen infected with his bat. Two more whacks and he headed back to his car.

“Just so you know, I’m making sure everyone knows bringing him back was your idea,” Darren said before we got in the truck.

“Holy shit. It really is an old folks’ home! Perfect for you, old man!” Colin said as we got out of the truck, once again
safely
inside Hargrove’s walls. We managed to arrive just after noon.

Darren glared at him.

Wyatt approached us. “Who’s this?”

“Colin’s the name,” Colin said and extended a hand to Wyatt.

Wyatt didn’t take his hand. Instead, he looked Colin up and down. “You bit? You look sick.”

“No, we checked, and he’s been with us since yesterday,” I answered on Colin’s behalf.

“Maybe you should have Oscar do a
super
thorough exam,” Darren said.

Not realizing Darren had been joking, Wyatt said, “That sounds like a good idea.”

Colin gave Darren a death glare. Byron leaned down, poking around the red Mustang.

“Ya ain’t old ‘nough ta drive, youngin’, and ya certainly ain’t old ‘nough ta drink.”

I looked in the backseat to see what Byron was talking about. There were crates of booze on the floor among old food wrappers and dirty clothes.

“Naw, I’m not that cool. It’s for Molotov’s.”

“How much ya settin’ on fire, boy?”

“You ever have a horde trap you? Fire’s an easy escape.”

Byron didn’t look convinced. “We gonna have ta confiscate dis.”

Colin opened his mouth, but I held out my palm. “I’ll take responsibility for him, so his stuff can stay with us.”

Byron looked Colin over one last time. “He all yours, cher.”

I wasn’t positive that vouching for the teen was a good idea, but I didn’t want him at the mercy of Wyatt’s sketchy crew.

“He staying with you then?” Wyatt asked.

“The couch is pretty comfy,” I said.

“Couch?” Colin’s face scrunched up.

“After our surgeon examines you, you’ll be free to unpack,” Wyatt said, then pointed to one of the guards. “Clean up this mess.”

He motioned to the pile of empty shells lying by the walls.

“What happened?” Darren asked.

“Just a few roamers, that’s all,” Wyatt answered.

I’d figured something had happened. We’d seen a bunch of dead infected lying around the road leading up to the gate as we approached. Another wave must have attacked while we were gone.

“Drive the truck to the chicken coop and put the feed in the shed,” Wyatt said.

Darren got back in and drove off in the truck. Ethan ran over from behind some of the condos, a painted rifle in hand.

“You’re back.” He smiled widely and we hugged. “How’d it go?”

“Came back with lots of feed, and an extra body.” I pointed a thumb at Colin.

“’Sup? I’m Colin.”

Ethan took his hand, Colin’s pale hand standing out against Ethan’s tanned one. “Ethan. How old are you?” Ethan scrutinized the teen.

“Fifteen, you?” Colin countered.

“Twenty-five,” Ethan answered. “Nice hair.”

Colin ran a hand through his blue hair. “I watched a lot of anime back when we had internet.”

“Come on, I’ll take you to the med center,” Wyatt prompted Colin.

I wanted to mention that they hadn’t forced me into an examination on arrival, but then Wyatt would probably make me go to prove a point. Colin did look sickly, so I couldn’t really blame Wyatt this time.

“I can take him,” I said, stepping toward Colin. “Give me the keys.”

Colin handed me the keys as if he were surrendering his most treasured possession.

We got in, me at the wheel this time. I stared down at the gearshift. The car wasn’t an automatic. I hadn’t driven a standard in a long time. I’d learned to drive manual by practicing with my neighbor’s old TJ, which had those handy up and down arrows that flashed to let me know when to change gears, kind of like training wheels for learning to drive a standard. The car roared to life, and I drove slowly to the med center, hoping I could stay in first gear the whole way.

“You better not scratch my car,” Colin warned.

“I’m literally driving it
meters
,” I said. No need to tell him about my dented and scratched-up car back home.

“I don’t like that Wyatt guy,” Colin said, “or Byron.”

Smart kid. “Yeah, there’s something a bit off about the people in charge here.”

“So you decided it was a good idea to bring me around their sketchy asses?” Colin raised a brow.

“Better than leaving you in the middle of the city.”

“As long as they’re not murderers.”

I gripped the wheel, choosing to remain silent.

“Your reaction is concerning me.” Colin turned to face me fully.

“There was a murder before I got here, and then one while I’ve been here.” I might as well tell him everything upfront.

“A serial killer on the loose, lovely.”

“No one will force you to stay, so you can leave at any time.”

“What about you? You can just leave too.”

I bit my lip. As much as I wanted nothing to do with Wyatt’s shady dealings, Ethan was pretty invested in this place, and our group would fracture if people decided to leave. I needed to wear Ethan down until he saw Wyatt and his cronies for what they really were: false authority.

“It’s … complicated,” I said.

I stopped in front of the doctor’s office and managed not to stall the engine when I put it in park.

“Want me to come with you?” I asked.

He let out a sad laugh. “You sound like my mom.”

“Well, screw you too.”

“Naw, I’ll be fine. He’s just checking for bites and scratches, right?”

I stiffened when he said scratches. “Yep. I’ll park your car outside my condo. Just head there when you’re done.”

I pointed down the street to where the old Civic was waiting for me like the creepy guy at the bar you couldn’t shake; you didn’t want anything to do with him, yet he kept coming back.

Colin got out with a salute. I drove to my condo and parked the red Mustang out front. When I got inside, I found Roy tinkering with Tim’s radio.

“Goddammit, Roy. You trying to bring the mercenaries back down on us?” I growled and slammed the door behind me.

“I’m doing great, thanks for asking,” Roy muttered, briefly taking his eyes off the metal box to look at me.

“Those assholes shot us up a few days ago!”

“Calm down. I haven’t contacted them. I just wanted to see if there were any other signals near here, but without a range extender, I can’t get anything,” Roy said.

I let out a deep sigh. Though Roy was grating on my nerves, I didn’t feel like arguing with him right now. I understood his need to find his wife—I really did—but he was going to get me and my friends killed in the process.

“So we brought someone back with us.”

Roy’s head shot up. “Mac?”

“No. A teenager named Colin. He’s got quite a mouth on him, but he’s all right. He’ll be staying on our couch.”

“Do I get a say in this?”

I opened my mouth to say, “Of course not,” but held back.

“How about you meet Colin first before you throw him to the wolves?” And there were plenty of wolves within these walls. “He didn’t kill Darren or me when we were with him. Although he does like harassing Darren.” I smiled to myself. It was kind of funny to watch.

The radio crackled then went silent.

“It keeps doing that,” Roy said. “Like it’s on the cusp of catching a signal.”

“Strange. Do you know where everyone else is?” I asked.

“Amanda and Chloe are at the chicken coop again. Don’t know about the rest.”

Of course he had no idea. I was willing to bet he’d been hiding in here all day, playing with the radio.

“Looking for tips, are we?” Roy finally noticed my new outfit.

I looked down at my shirt and decided now was a good time to unwind and take a shower. The clothes I’d borrowed from the college were already dirty, and I badly needed to wash in more than a couple inches of water. Once clean, I chose a shirt that wasn’t as low-cut and a pair of shorts. I walked back into the kitchen area to see if there was anything to snack on. There was a box of graham crackers on the counter that I dug into. Just as I was wondering what was taking Colin so long, he hesitantly opened the front door.

As Roy and Colin shook hands, Roy asked, “So you’re the guy who’ll be crashing on our couch?” then added, “you better not give us any problems.”

I slapped Roy in the arm. “Rude.”

Colin set his backpack down by the couch. He regarded the cat-plastered couch with a grimace.

“You sure I can’t bunk with you?” He waggled his eyebrows at me. “I liked your other shirt better, by the way.”

“Ah, to be a hormone fueled teen again,” I said sarcastically.

“So, is that a yes?”

Roy grilled him for information, from where he lived to what his parents did for a living. Colin was a stranger and he was clearly worried about Amanda’s safety.

A little while later, Chloe and Amanda burst into the house, reeking of chickens. They gaped at the blue-haired teen, which he returned with a stiff wave.

“Girls, this is Colin,” Roy said with a stern eye as he watched Colin offer his hand to each girl.

“Hi,” Chloe squeaked, cheeks tinged red.

Oh? What is this?
Something to tease her about later. Chloe grabbed Amanda and hauled her to Roy and Amanda’s bedroom.

“Strange kids,” Colin said.

“Oh shit, I forgot!” Roy said and ran into the hallway. “Amanda! You need to get cleaned up and then put on your blue dress for tonight!”

No one had mentioned anything to me. “What’s going on?”

“There’s an impromptu wedding tonight, just before supper,” Roy answered, returning to the living room.

I was getting real tired of being the last person to hear about things.

“Will this be a black-tie event, or a Hawaiian shirt and cargo pants one?” Colin asked.

“Why the hell would anyone bother?” I asked, ignoring Colin’s joke.

Hi, this is Mary, my apocalypse wife. Don’t tell my real wife though. She’ll murder me.

Roy laughed. “For a girl, you really aren’t big on the whole romance thing. Guess Ethan won’t have to worry about roses on your anniversary.” His laughing face fell as he took in his words. “I was always terrible at remembering these things, so Irene used to put a dent in our credit card in retaliation.”

I didn’t want to open that door tonight, so I changed the subject. “Who’s going to officiate this sham?”

“The guy who ran the funeral.”

“How romantic,” Colin said.

A few hours later, we were standing in the small park hidden behind the clubhouse, with a lattice arch wrapped in flowers at the helm. The crowd was a mix of casual and dressy. The groom wore an evening jacket and fidgeted beside Hargrove’s funeral/wedding director.

“Good thing I forwent the tux,” Colin whispered to me. “I would have been the best dressed person here.”

“What are you talking about? Those elbow patches are mucho classy,” I whispered back, pointing to the groom.

Colin laughed, and I waved Darren and Zoe down. As they walked over, Zoe stopped and said a quick hello to Sheri. Crystal was carting her around in a wheelchair while she recovered.

“This is stupid,” Darren griped once they reached us. I had to agree with him. But I suppose the whole point of having a community was to try to re-create the life we once had. Although, I’d rather they open a coffee shop than host weddings.

“Oh, come on, you should be excited. Old people love weddings!” Colin teased.

Darren glowered at him. Through muffled laughter, Zoe introduced herself to Colin. His eyes drifted down to the short dress she was wearing.

“Robbing the cradle, are we? You gotta be like eighty,” Colin said, still ribbing on Darren.

I didn’t think Darren had ever told us—or me, at least—his age. He looked on the other side of twenty-five, but not yet thirty.

“How did you find this guy?” Zoe asked, tugging down the hem of her dress.

“Well, they were high at the time,” Colin started, but I stomped down on his foot.

“What was that?” Ethan asked, coming up behind us. He and Chloe must have just arrived.

He was in an outfit similar to the one he’d worn on our date night: a dress shirt and clean jeans. Beside him, Chloe was dressed in a cute floral summer dress. She refused to look up and instead peered at the ground. Man, I was really underdressed.

“Nothing,” I said.

I didn’t need people to think I was a drug user on top of being crazy. Roy and Amanda joined us as the soft music started.

“Where’s John?” I whispered to Zoe.

“I think he’s still out with this morning’s gun training group.”

“Shouldn’t they be back by now?” What if something had happened to John?