This Would Be Paradise (Book 1) (4 page)

“Bailey, that’s a nice name,” Darren said, pulling a line from every pick-up line ever.

“Well, my mom’s a raging alcoholic so…” I struggled to keep myself from laughing at the look of shock that over took his face and ruining the joke.

“You’re kidding right?”

“Don’t mind her, she’s always like that,” Zoe barged in, saving the poor guy. He laughed a little in relief.

“Which shelter are you guys heading to?”

“The high school,” Zoe answered.

“Me too,” Darren said. “Seems like a better choice than the Superdome.”

“So, you here for Mardi Gras, too?” I asked.

“Yes I am, not that there will be any more partying going on.”

“By yourself?” I prodded.

His face faltered a little bit. “No, I got separated from my group last night and haven’t been able to meet up with them.” His reply sounded off to me somehow.

“They probably headed to one of the emergency shelters too,” Zoe beamed at him, as I resisted the urge to roll my eyes.

Here we were in the middle of some viral outbreak, and Zoe was flirting up a storm. Well, at least she was good at it. The more we talked to Darren, the more I faltered in between believing him and feeling that something was off with him. I suppose I could have just as easily been separated from Zoe at the hospital, so maybe his tale of losing his friends was the truth.

“So zombies, huh?” Darren offered when our conversation hit a lull.

“That sounds so ridiculous,” I sighed.

“How else can you explain it?” Darren countered.

“Maybe mad cow disease has made a comeback and this time got passed on to humans?” I mused.

“Maybe, but I saw a girl
bite
and
chew
on another yesterday. You saying mad cow turns people into cannibals?” Darren asked.

“Hey, I never said I was a scientist,” I put my hands in the air in mock surrender. “It’s just that the word zombie
seems absurd.”

“They’re only zombies if they’re dead,” Zoe pointed out. “Are the sick people dead?” None of us had an answer to that.

I thought back to when the doctor and woman bled out in the hospital then started to move around again once I thought they were dead. So far, it seemed George Romero had it right, except for the movies that came after
Dawn of the Dead
; now those were just terrible.

The bus came to a halt outside the school. It was surrounded by police cars and emergency response teams, like a medieval army defending a castle. As we filed out of the bus we were directed into the building by people in generic reflective vests. I felt Zoe grab onto the back of my shirt so that we didn’t get separated and Darren followed close behind.

“How many?” a man at the entrance asked holding up his clipboard.

“Two,” I answered.

“Make that three,” Zoe corrected.

Great, another stray
.

“Anyone in your party sick?” he asked with a serious, no-nonsense face.

“Nope,” I answered calmly even though I was sweating on the inside. What if they found out I was scratched? Would I even get a chance to explain that I didn’t catch the sickness?

“Go on through the main doors,” the man said ticking off something on his clipboard. 

I followed the parade of people in front of me leading to the main doors. Before we got through, we heard a bunch of shouting back at the man with the clipboard.

“What do you mean he can’t come in?” a hysteric woman was yelling, motioning to her son.

Standing beside her, the small boy must have been no more than ten years old. His face was ashen and grey, his eyes almost sunken in. Rattling coughs were shaking his body.

“Sorry, no one who is sick is allowed into the shelter. It’s to protect the others inside and prevent further spread of the virus,” the man tried to reason.

Other emergency workers were called over to usher the distraught woman and her sick son off the premises. I felt bad for them, but at the same time I was relieved they weren’t going to be sharing any enclosed space with us. Like me, I’m sure there were a few people who hid their wounds from the emergency staff. I knew I was okay, but would the others be? No one looked sick at the moment, but I knew that could all change in a heartbeat. All it took was one to start attacking others for it to spread around like the flu during flu season in an office.

Great. Suddenly I didn’t feel so sure about going to the school.

We had found our way over to a corner with a few cots and claimed it as our own. As I slid my backpack off my shoulders – much to my back’s relief – I looked around the area we had been ushered to. The main gym had been full so they started putting people in this multipurpose lunch room, which is where we were currently located. The cheap fluorescent lights made everything appear clinical, and I wondered how long they expected us to stay in here for.

All the families and groups of people mainly stayed to their own area, no one was in the mood to socialize. It was extremely loud in the cramped area with kids screaming all over the place. It reminded me of going to the mall on a weekend; I hated malls for that same reason.

“We should have just stayed at the hotel,” I said as a screaming herd of kids ran by. “At least it would have been quiet.”

“Yeah, but at least we have supplies and protection here,” Zoe pointed out.

That was true, but being around this many people was nerve-wracking in the best of situations. I was never a people person.

Darren raised an eyebrow at me. “You keep looking at people like that, you’re going to freak them out.”

“So? I don’t want to be attacked in the middle of the night. Not that I will be able to sleep in this anyways.”

“I’d be more worried about getting robbed,” Darren said.

“Thanks, now I really won’t sleep,” I muttered.

A table was set up that had an emergency worker handing out wrapped sandwiches to people. Darren and I went to get in the line before the crowd of people amassed over to it whilst Zoe stayed behind to watch our stuff and hold our claimed territory.

We grabbed our sandwiches, taking an extra one for Zoe and headed back to our corner. I took a bite and chewed, grateful for some real food. We sat in silence as we ate, just looking around. Cots and people were everywhere; the space was extremely loud as a result. I had hoped that maybe we could sneak off into a classroom to escape the noise that would no doubt carry on throughout the night. Why did I always seem to make these types of decisions and end up instantly regretting them?
Kind of explains the Art degree
.

I pulled out my smartphone and tried dialing my parents again. Screw the long distance charges. Once again no one picked up. I tried my brother’s number last, and an operator recording played through the ear piece letting me know that there was an unprecedented overload of their system and that calling services may not work. I hung up and stared at the screen, the goofy face of my little brother peering back at me. He always hated that contact picture, which is why I still had it.

“No one answering?” Zoe asked.

“No, and I got some weird operator overload message,” I frowned.

Zoe pulled out her own phone and tried her parents as well, but it was just as fruitful as my attempt had been. She shook her head.

“This is ridiculous. In an emergency they should be focusing on keeping the phone lines up as long as possible.”

“Who’s
they
?” I raised an eyebrow.

“I don’t know, the government?”

“I think they might have a little bit on their plate at the moment,” Darren butted in.

I had finally noticed all the police presence stationed throughout the large room. None of them seemed to be helping, just looking around with a stern eye with their hands on their holstered guns. I found that odd. It was almost like they were just waiting for someone to turn. One officer went around to the others, saying something to all of them and then put the megaphone he had in his hand to his mouth.

“Everyone quiet down please. In a few minutes we are going to play a broadcast from the national news due to the numerous requests for information.” His amplified voice boomed over the room causing the noise level to fall to near silence.

“Do you think it will be real?” Zoe asked.

I turned to her, confused. “What do you mean?”

“Well, if they are just playing it over the intercom it could be anyone,” Zoe pointed out as if it was obvious. “You know to placate people and not cause panic.”

“For once you could be right,” I said and Zoe punched me in the shoulder.

I rubbed my sore arm as Darren chuckled at us. My sarcasm aside, Zoe could be right. Isn’t that what the government did in emergencies? Lie to the public and then justify it by saying they did it so as not to cause panic? A few minutes later, the intercom crackled to life, a feminine but stern voice carrying through the now muted noise:

“...the President has declared a state of emergency. We advise all citizens to avoid contact with the infected individuals. Emergency teams have been sent to all major cities to deal with the situation and will span out to rural areas soon. If an infected person is spotted, please call the local law enforcement and do not engage them. We repeat, do not engage them. If an emergency shelter has been put up in your community, please proceed there immediately. Again, avoid all contact with the infected and…”

The recording cut out and all that was left playing was the hiss of the radio frequency. Then the lights went out with a flash, darkness blanketing the room. People started screaming and the sound of shoes hitting the linoleum reigned in the small space.

“People! Please do not panic, we have everything under control. We are working on getting the backup generator running right now,” announced the policeman with the megaphone.

All three of us jumped up as people started to move all around us. I was knocked from behind as a man shoved his way through the people, but I managed to catch myself before I hit the ground.

“Bailey, you all right?” Zoe asked from right beside me. It must have been her arm I grabbed while flailing.

“Yeah, some panicking jackass just bumped into me,” I grumbled as I rubbed my still sore shoulder. I don’t think I could afford any more injuries with the hospitals being useless.

My eyes were swamped with light as the emergency lights came on, like a flare in the night sky. People started to calm down, or at least stop running around screaming like idiots.

“Well power outages aren’t a good sign,” Darren muttered and I wasn’t even sure he was talking to us.

“None of this is a good sign.”

The broadcast was not what I had expected. What did a state of emergency
even mean? The planes and trains had already been down the day before so what else happened?

“So now we’re supposed to call the sick people
infected
?” Zoe asked.

“What else would you call them?” Darren replied. “Zombies?”

“I don’t think any self-respecting newscast would use that word,” I said.

“Fair enough,” Darren shrugged.

“They are zombies, though,” a small voice said from behind us.

I turned around to see a little girl who must have been no more than ten years old. “And how would you know that?” I asked, arching an eyebrow at the strange kid.

She was dressed in those little kid jeans and a T-shirt that had Scooby-Doo on the front. I half expected to see light up runners on her feet, but she just had a pair of old Nikes. Her brown eyes matched her mousy brown hair that was up pulled up into a scrunchie. I was not aware they had even made any of those past the nineties. “’Cause I’ve seen all the zombie movies.” Her voice was tinged with a country twang that made me crack a grin. I guess we were in the South after all.

“Which ones?” Zoe asked kneeling down to the kid’s level.

“
Night of the Living Dead
,
Dawn of the Dead
, that zombie TV show,” she listed off.

“Wow, you’ve just about seen them all,” I grinned, and she narrowed her eyes at me.

She was about to say something else when a deep voice yelled out, “Chloe!” The little girl looked panicked for a second and then a guy, somewhere in his mid-twenties, burst through the crowd to her.

“Chloe, what the heck did I tell you about runnin’ off like that?” his country twang accent much more prominent.

Great, more Southerners.
They seemed like they were related, both had similar features like the brown hair, but unlike the girl’s, his eyes were blue. His hair was cut short, very all-American boy style. His T-shirt was faded with many washes, the words
New Orleans Saints
almost worn off. Although I had to admit, country boy was put together nicely, for lack of a better term. The shirt was on the tighter side, showcasing his athletic physique and muscled arms. I was willing to bet good money – if I had any, that is – he had a farmer’s tan under that shirt. 

“I’m sorry.” The way she said it sounded like she was not sorry at all.

We all grinned at her insolent, childish tone.

“Sorry, hope she wasn’t botherin’ you,” he grinned, flashing his straight teeth. “I’m Ethan by the way, and this little kid is Chloe.”

“Little kid!” Chloe said indignantly. “I’m nine and a half.”

Why did kids always insist on adding ‘and a half’ at the end? It sure didn’t help her cause.

“Naw, she was just telling us about all the zombie movies she’s seen,” I said, stamping down the urge to use my poor excuse for a southern accent.

Ethan rolled his eyes at Chloe, “How many times do I have to tell you to stop talkin’ about the dang zombies?”

I inwardly grinned at his use of censored swear words.

“What’re your names?” Chloe asked.

“I’m Bailey, this is my friend Zoe, and this guy is Darren,” I said.

“Where are you from?” Chloe prodded.

“Me and Zoe are from Canada. Not sure about Darren here,” I answered.

“Wisconsin,” Darren added, not sounding enthused about that at all.

“If you’re from Canada what’re you doin’ here?” Chloe asked bluntly.

“Chloe,” Ethan sighed.

Zoe chuckled and answered for us, “We were here for Mardi Gras.”

“My dad said Mardi Gras is for drunk college students,” Chloe said, cocking out her hip.

“Well he’s not wrong,” I laughed before Ethan could chastise her for saying anything.

“True that,” Darren grinned, before he sat back down on his cot.

The full lights came back on and I could hear the sigh of relief from the people in the multipurpose room.

“Can we stay by you guys?” Chloe asked, looking up at us expectantly.

“Sure, pull up a cot,” Zoe smiled and I narrowed my eyes.

I had a nagging suspicion Zoe was the type to bring home stray cats as a kid. Chloe clapped excitedly and ran off to grab her things with Ethan in tow. I gave Zoe a look.

“Shut up,” she said.

“I didn’t say anything,” I grinned.

“I know you well enough that you don’t have too,” Zoe said plunking down on her cot.

“Touché.” I lugged my suitcase over to the side so they would have room for their cots.

A few minutes later, Chloe came bounding over with her rather large backpack and I wondered how her tiny body was able to hold it up without falling over. Ethan was a few steps behind her with the cots folded under his arms. Chloe took the cot beside me flinging her backpack down and Ethan set his up beside hers. For the next hour, we were barraged with questions from Chloe, ranging from what was our favorite food to did we live in igloos.

“Sorry about her,” Ethan said apologetically to me when Zoe became the recipient of the new round of questions.

“No problem, kind of takes your mind off everything.” I shrugged.

I wasn’t great with kids having not been around them a whole lot throughout my life. I had a brother who was two years younger, but we basically fought the whole time. I still remember when he hit me with his hockey stick, so I chased him around to get my revenge, and he ran straight into his own door frame, giving him a huge black eye. Of course, he ran to our mother saying it was me, and I was grounded for a week.
You know, come to think of it, I don’t think I like kids.

“So you’re here for Mardi Gras?” Ethan asked.

“Yeah, celebrating finishing our degrees.”

“Congrats,” he said mildly impressed.

“Don’t be too impressed,” I snorted. “It’s a ‘would you like fries with that?’ degree.”

“Still it’s somethin’.” 

“So is Chloe your sister?” I asked, hoping I was guessing right.

Ethan chuckled, “Do I look old enough to have a daughter her age?”

“Hey you never know. Sixteen and pregnant is no longer scandalous; in fact, it seems to be a trend.” 

“Well to answer you, yes she is my sister.” Ethan leaned back on his cot.

“Where are your parents if you don’t mind me asking?” I asked.

“Mexico,” he answered. “My dad and step mom always go there for two weeks ‘round this time. I tried gettin’ ‘em on the phone, but no luck. Looks like they’ll be there for a while now.”

“Yeah, Zoe and I are stuck too. Our plane was cancelled, and trains aren’t an option now either.” I frowned as my words sunk in.

We really were stuck unless we could commandeer a car along the way and drive back to B.C. Which seemed daunting as well.
How hard could it be to hotwire a car?