This Would Be Paradise (Book 1) (24 page)

I turned around slowly, dread like a lead ball in my stomach. At the top of the stairs stood Riley. He had a look on his face that I couldn’t quite classify as a smile.
How did he find me?

The pink tip of his tongue ran over the bottom of his teeth. “Well, I can’t say this isn’t a surprise, running into you like this. I thought we had seen the last of you.”

“Are you following us?”

“Well, well. I thought you were a mute,” he smirked. “You didn’t say a word last time.”

“Forced imprisonment does that to a person.” I glared back.

His grin spread further across his face. “You left me with quite the souvenir, you know.” His hand came to rest on the spot where my knife had sunk in. “I can’t say I’ve ever let someone get the better of me before. Took ten stitches and a bottle of Captain Morgan to set me right.”

What do I do? What do I do?
Should I shoot at him? I was trapped at the bottom of the stairs with the unknown on the other side of the door. He’d more than likely return fire, and I was a sitting duck down here. I desperately wished that whatever was on the other side was an improvement. I turned the knob and dashed inside as I pulled out the keys. I fumbled with the lock on the inside, making sure they couldn’t get it. Heavy footfalls sounded down the stairs.

“You’re only going to make this harder on yourself,” he said. “I just want to talk.”

I’m sure all killers say that to their victims.
It was pitch black down here and foul, damp air clawed at my nostrils. I dragged the flashlight from my backpack and clicked it on. I heard the chains rattle before I saw the bodies. A skeletal infected reared toward me, and I stumbled back until I hit the wall. It was yanked to a stop a few feet from me. With its arms outstretched, it scratched at the air between us.

I blinked a few times, my eyes adjusting to the sight and my heart rate starting to return to normal. A metal collar was fastened around the infected’s neck, a chain running from it to the wall. Two other infected were chained up, but they didn’t seem to have as long of a reach. One was not even moving, lying still in a pool of filth.

Okay, so this isn’t an improvement.
I needed to get out of here. I shone my flashlight around, trying to spot an escape route. Muffled voices were on the other side of the door; Riley must not have been alone. Then the banging started. They were ramming the door trying to get in. The two mobile infected now had all their attention focused on the smashing sound.

Using the wall as my guide I shuffled along, getting further out of their reach. The beam of light landed on a small, boarded up window. It was one of those tiny basement windows that basically served no purpose other than to make it feel less like a dungeon. Good thing I had lost weight in the last few months, I could probably squeeze through it now. I shuffled over, the infected still rapt upon the banging. It reminded me of when my brother used to taunt our neighbor’s Rottweiler by banging on the fence. I ran into something hard at waist level and shone the light down. A mobile hospital bed laid in my way. The sheets were stained in blood, and a pair of handcuffs dangled from the bars.

I gulped audibly as I maneuvered around it, careful not to step into the infected’s chain radius. They still weren’t paying attention to me. I mean I was being extremely cautious with not making noise or sudden movements, but fresh meat had to be calling to them. I had never been so close to an infected and been so slow. Usually I was running from them. It was like I no longer held their interest once I wasn’t making noise or making noticeable movements in their sight range.

Now was not the time to question it. I stuck the end of the flashlight into my mouth and tried to pry away the boards. They weren’t nailed on, just placed against the glass. Daylight spilt through the small opening, providing a little bit of vision. Now I could see the basement more clearly.

There was a heavy, industrial door toward the back that looked like it headed into a small room. It seemed very out of place for a doctor’s clinic. The walls were covered in smooth tiles, making it look more like a shower room than a basement. Hospital beds were scattered all over the room, tables with trays of tools beside them.

The gleam of stainless steel scalpels and scissors were reflected back at me. Maybe they had used this as an operation room?
Or for something worse?
  The way the infected were chained up led me to believe the latter. And what the hell would they need the meat locker-looking room for?
The shit I get myself into…

The banging increased tenfold, spurring me on to use the butt of the flashlight to smash the glass. Still using the flashlight, I cleared off the rest of the jagged pieces. I shoved my jingling backpack through the opening, but I couldn’t reach it fully. I needed something to gain ground with. Whipping my head around, my eyes landed on the hospital bed I ran into. With a heft, I rolled it toward the window. The wheels squealed from lack of use, and one of the infected turned toward me. I stood as still as I could, waiting for it to go back to clawing uselessly in the direction of the door.

Once it grew tired of staring at me, I wheeled the bed the rest of the way. The door flew open at the same time I planted a foot on the bed. Riley, and the man I recognized as Conner, burst into the room momentarily caught off guard by the infected waiting to devour them.

“Holy shit!” Conner yelled as he slid to a stop.

Unfortunately for him, he entered the room first in a sprint and was unable to stop in time. The infected with the longest chain latched onto him and took a massive chunk out of his arm. Conner’s scream bounced off the walls, encouraging the other infected.

Riley pulled out his gun.

“No man, don’t!”

The gun flash briefly lit up the dim basement. Conner dropped like a stone, the hole in his head still smoking. The infected fell down with him, tearing into any part it could get to. Riley’s head snapped in my direction, and I scrambled to get out, having wasted precious time watching the whole scene, hoping Riley would meet his end too. No such luck.

I had my arms and head through the opening, my legs flailing to try and get purchase. I felt a hand wrap around my ankle and yank. My arms scraped along the window frame, and I landed face first on the disgusting hospital bed. Then with another forceful pull, my face met the cold cement. I could taste blood in my mouth, my teeth having sliced open my tongue.

Riley tsked. “You just cost me another good team member.” Roughly, he grabbed my upper arms and turned me over. “You’re going to pay for that.”

I spit the blood welling in my mouth at him. He made an angry grunt, and a hand flew to his face to wipe the blood off. I kicked out my leg, and it landed just to the right of his groin.

“Bitch!”

Using his brief moment of distraction, I scrambled onto all fours and got up. He was right behind me, having recovered fast. Riley tackled me to the ground; my hands flew out, instinctively grabbing at anything and a tray of tools clattered to the ground with us. The sound of the stainless steel hitting the cement rained down all around us.

I used the tray still gripped in my hand to smash Riley’s face. He grabbed my wrist, pried the useless weapon from my hand and threw it away. It rattled like a tin sheet, as it sailed away from us. I fought to punch and hit him, but Riley managed to gather my wrists in his hands.

“Keep fighting me. I like it.” He was out of breath from our wrestling.

“Fuck you!” I yelled straight into his face, blood and spit mixing with my harsh exclamation.

“You would like that wouldn’t you?” His grin didn’t reach his eyes, they were dark and dead. He might as well have been an infected for all I saw in there. “But that’s not what this is about. Revenge. Once I kill you, I’ll find the rest of your group and kill them too.”

To emphasize his point, his hands moved from my wrists to my neck. My oxygen was cut off abruptly, and I clawed at the hands now squeezing the life out of me. The pressure on my neck was beyond painful, and I kicked out my legs, desperate to get air. Black dots began to line my vision.

“Fighting will only make it last longer.”

The coldness in Riley’s eyes was replaced with sick amusement. He liked killing. This world didn’t ruin his life; it set him free. He had killed before and would keep doing it. What if he did find my friends? What if he found Chloe? I removed my nails from the hand wrapped around my neck and felt around the floor near me, looking for anything that could be a weapon. I didn’t have much time. I was fading; blackness invaded the edges of my vision, like termites eating away wood.

My hand wrapped around the hilt of one of the dropped tools and with my last remaining strength I brought my arm up in a wide arc. The sharp edge of whatever tool I had grabbed embedded itself in Riley’s neck. His eyes went wide in shock, and his hands flew to his neck.

Cool, blessed air reached my starved lungs and I heaved in deep breaths. My eyes watered, and my throat burned like I had never felt before. It was like acid-coated the inside of my throat and air was water being poured onto it. Riley was pale and clutching at the handle protruding from his neck. Blood poured from the wound like a faucet turned to max. It looked like I had stabbed him with a scalpel.

He collapsed to the ground, his mouth open and flapping like a gaping fish on land. I hauled myself to shaky feet and reached into my waistband. I loomed over him, the gun aimed right for his forehead. Once he saw the gun in my hand, he reached up. Whether it was to plead for his life or beg for it to be quick, I will never know, because I pulled the trigger.

He won in the end. Now I was a monster, too. 

I don’t remember much of the drive back to the house. Hell, I don’t even remember how I got out of the medical center. It was like a time skip. One minute I was standing over a dead body, the next I was parked, sitting in the front seat of the Taurus with my backpack in the passenger’s side.

I had killed a living person, but I was glad Riley was gone. Something like peace settled over me. I stared into the rearview mirror, prodding at my red neck. Bruising was already starting to mar my skin. I tried to speak, but a squeak was all that escaped. Swallowing hurt like a bitch, but was still working correctly.

There was one less threat in the world and that had to count for something. It was cut and dry case of self-defense, and no one could hold that against me. 

Was it self-defense?
I could have easily gotten away while Riley squirmed on the floor in his own blood.
He eventually would have died from blood loss anyways. At least, that’s what I told myself. But that wasn’t the only reason.

I wanted to do it. I wanted to see with my own eyes that he had died. And I did.

I walked from the driveway to the house, looking no more alive than the mountains of infected I had killed. I felt subhuman. Stopping, I dropped my backpack to the ground. The front door seemed to be getting further and further away. My mind was starting to play tricks on me. My subconscious was none-to-subtly telling me not to go in. 

I was not ready to play human, at least not so soon after. Maybe I should have stayed away. It was faint, but I still heard the sound of the deadbolt being flipped. The door opened to reveal the little concerned face of Chloe. I peered back at her, not saying anything, not daring to move. She looked at me, her eyes taking in the damage I had sustained and the backpack resting at my feet.

She threw open the door and tore down the steps. She ran into me full force. Her arms wrapped around my middle and I could tell she was sobbing.

“You came back!” she cried, hugging me tightly.

I placed a hand on her head. I wanted to tell her that of course I did, but my voice wasn’t cooperating at the moment. She looked up at me, and I pointed to my neck so she would know why I couldn’t speak. She didn’t need to know that my reluctance to speak was not only due to physical limitations.

“You’re hurt.”

I gave her a meager smile and thumbs up to let her know I would be fine. She released me and placed her small hand in mine, determination set in her features.

“Don’t worry. We’ll find ‘em.”

New Orleans, Three months earlier

Zoe was facing me, her mouth going a mile a minute. I couldn’t hear her over the roar of the crowd and music. Horns were blasting nearby and I, by some means, ended up with more than one metallic bead necklace. This was odd because I was less risqué than Zoe, who had actually
earned
her beads. One drunken frat guy tried to lift up my shirt, but that ended when I kneed him in the groin. I don’t think he appreciated the grin on my face.

Zoe quickly dragged me away from the scene; the guy’s friends were hollering and dying of laughter at their fallen comrade. She tried to chastise me for not playing nice, but the effect was ruined by the pulsing dance music.

“You know, we’re supposed to be living out our last moments of university life before we have to head into the drudgery of real life,” she screamed over the noise.

“So? That doesn’t equate to be accosted,” I shot back.

Zoe rolled her eyes and downed the rest of her drink.

“Live a little! Come on, let’s get some shots!”

Oh God, once the shots started I was a goner—but what the hell. I let her drag me over to the nearest drink stand and shove a countless number of shots my way. She was flirting with the drink server when my pocket started to vibrate.
What the…? Oh right, my phone.
I pulled my cellphone from my pocket, a text message popping up on the screen from my mother.
Condoms or do I have to show you the book again?

Oh god, not the book!
My mother was a doctor to her core, even when it came to her children. I remember the sex talk she gave me when I was a preteen; it included the dreaded book. I had nightmares after that. It showcased a bunch of information and pictures
of various STDs. It was technically a textbook, but dear god it was awful. Those poor med students.

I tried to put it from my mind as another alert popped up on my screen. This one from CNN about another confirmed case of a new strain of the flu virus or whatever it was; I just sort if skimmed it. This was like the fifth article in the last few hours. If they kept this up, people would start to freak out. Oddly enough, this one stated that the sick individuals were harming others. Someone from the CDC was speculating that the high-grade fever was causing the erratic behavior. I guess I would just have to keep an eye out for anyone who looked sickly.

The phone slid back into my pocket, and I threw back another shot, this time some Jose Cuervo. Zoe nodded her head toward the biggest mass of people and we squeezed ourselves into the mosh pit of partiers. Despite my earlier reluctance, I actually enjoyed myself. It was easy to get lost in the overbearing music and dance, until you threw up your overpriced drinks. Well, maybe not that last part.

We had been having a good time until the music near us cut and someone yelled, “Cops!” over the fray. People panicked and started to disperse. There were a lot of underaged kids here and some pretty high people, so I guess that was reason enough to run. Zoe shrugged at me and pointed her thumb to the other stage down the street. I nodded, and we walked with the crowd to the other area. Police were running toward us, heading to where we had just come from telling people to move along.
I wonder if cops were contractually forced to say that?

I looked back, curiosity getting the better of me, but I couldn’t see anything over the horde of people migrating to a cop free zone. There were a group of guys walking beside us chatting about it.

“Dude, there was blood everywhere.”

“I’ve never seen so many cops at once before.”

“Please, your family is like the poster child for the TV show
Cops
.”

“Fuck you, Darren!”

“There’s always one douchebag who has to bring a knife.”

“Naw man, that’s the thing. He didn’t have a weapon, he used his
teeth
.”

Huh, I guess some people just can’t handle their alcohol.