This Would Be Paradise (Book 1) (6 page)

“We need some sort of weapon,” he explained as he ran back to us, testing the weight of the iron in his grip.

Chloe latched her little hand back onto Ethan’s and we started heading around the school.

We rounded the back corner of the school, open green space greeting us. As a group, we continued passing the trampled football field; the bleachers casting a shadow over the destroyed arena. I spotted movement underneath the bleachers and tapped Ethan on the shoulder, nodding toward the seats. We widened our berth from the bleachers as we moved around it, hoping to not catch the attention of whatever was lurking beneath them.

The grass quietly crunched under our feet, but I failed to notice the pop can, as my attention was so focused on the figure. All eyes whipped to me as the aluminum crumpled under my foot. I winced at the sound, my heart missing a beat. We stood frozen in our tracks as we watched the shuffling figure appear from under the benches, like a bear roused from its cave.

The man’s arm hung limply, like it was hanging onto his shoulder by a thread, as he staggered toward us. His face looked like he had just been attacked by an animal, jagged cuts running from scalp to chin. We started to back up a few feet then full out sprinted away from the infected man. Ethan led us to the back wall of the fence that surrounded the school. The infected man ambled toward us; his one good arm rose up to grab whoever was closest. We outran him with ease thanks to the condition of his body.

When we reached the chain link fence, Ethan hoisted Chloe over first. Zoe and I scrambled over next. I landed on the other side hard, the scratches on my side pulling taut sending a wave of pain up my torso. I managed to catch myself on the metal links before I fell over. The fence rattled with all the movement and the infected man took this as a sign to speed up.

“Hurry!” Chloe screamed as she grabbed the fence, yelling intently at Ethan on the other side.

Darren and Ethan glanced back to see that the infected had managed to pick up speed. They quickly climbed over and joined us on the other side. Chloe immediately made a grab for Ethan’s hand.

With his bloodstained fingers sticking through the chain links, the infected snapped at us, but he no longer posed a threat. He wasn’t able to get over, so he just continually smacked the fence trying to get to us.

“He can’t climb over right?” Chloe asked as she stared wide eyed at the infected.

“Naw,” Ethan said. “But let’s keep goin’.”

I looked back at the man one last time as we headed toward the parking garage. It was as if he couldn’t comprehend how to get to us. He either wasn’t in good enough condition to climb over or didn’t even think to climb over. Either way, it was of benefit to us. He just stood there rattling the fence and snarling as we got further away. I wondered how long he planned on standing there, but we were not about to stand around to find out.

The parking garage was a giant cement building about five floors high. I could see the gleam of the cars reflecting the sun through the openings. The booth at the entrance was without an operator, so we ducked underneath the yellow and blacked stripped bar to get inside.

“I’m parked on the third floor,” Ethan said as he readjusted his backpack on his shoulders.

We followed him over to the door for the stairs and started up the cement steps. The stairwell was dark, barely lit by the tiny window slits. Relief washed over me as Ethan opened the third floor stairs and light poured in. We passed by parked vehicle after parked vehicle, until Ethan stopped at an older model Chevy Silverado. It was in good shape, no rusting anywhere on its black paint job. Clearly he took care of his truck.

“How much gas do you have?” Darren asked, throwing his backpack into the truck bed.

“At least three-quarters of the tank,” Ethan answered throwing in his own backpack and then Chloe’s beside Darren’s.

“We should probably fill up and get extra gas before we leave the city,” I suggested, internally debating if I wanted to throw my backpack with the rest or have it with me in the cab.

“We have gas stored at our cabin,” Chloe said.

“Purple gas?” Zoe asked.

“Purple? No, it’s red. But how’d you know it was dyed?” Chloe asked, and I eyed Zoe suspiciously.

She shrugged. “I grew up in the country.”

“It’s like I don’t even know you.” I feigned a look of horror.

“Shut up and get in,” Zoe replied as she rolled her eyes at my comment.

We jumped into the truck with Zoe in the middle seat with Darren and I on either side of her in the back. There was a surprising amount of room considering the truck didn’t have an extended cab. I looked out the back window longingly at my backpack, wishing I had decided to bring it in here with me. If I lost that, I really had nothing to my name. Ethan started the vehicle and Chloe buckled herself in. We made it down to the first floor only to be stopped by the yellow and black bar and with no one operating the booth, it just stood in our way.

“So, anyone here ever work in a parking garage booth?” I asked and of course everyone shook their head, even Chloe.

“Ram it?” Darren suggested but the look on Ethan’s face said that was not an option.

“Do you think it will move up if we just lift it?” I wondered out loud.

“Only one-way to find out,” Darren muttered as he climbed out of the truck.

He tested the bar first, and it gave way to Darren’s strength. The bar rose higher as he walked from the free end to the part that connected with the booth. Slowly, Ethan inched past the bar and Darren let it drop as he ran to get back in.

We rode in tight-lipped silence as we tried to drive out of the city. No one dared to make a sound, too focused on scanning our surroundings. Vehicles were abandoned all over the road, their owners nowhere to be seen. Ethan had to maneuver around more than one big cluster of parked vehicles, which meant driving partway on the sidewalk.

“Ah, guys,” Chloe said as she pointed at something through the windshield.

We all looked out to see what she was going on about. The bridge that we needed to cross to head out of the city was not only blocked with numerous vehicles, but a bunch of the infected were ambling around and corpses were strewn across the bridge. The diseased people were moving in between the cars like ants around a mound of fallen food.

Even if there hadn’t been any sick people walking around, there was no way we would have been able to get across due to the various abandoned cars and trucks that were blocking every lane both ways. The bridge created a bottleneck where everyone tried to cross but no one made it over. The infected that were ambling around were most likely the former owners of those vehicles.

The sound of the Silverado’s engine finally caught the attention of one of the infected and he started toward the noise. The other infected people noticed his movement and started to mindlessly followed instep behind him.

“Um, maybe you should back up, yeah?” I said, panic rising in me.

If the horde surrounded us, we would be screwed. Ethan threw the gearshift into reverse and slammed on the gas, sending us flying against the front seats.
Maybe I should learn to wear my seatbelt
. I had to say I was quite impressed with Ethan’s driving skills, though; maybe all country boys could drive that well, who knows. I remembered the sorry state my bumper was in on my old Honda from backing into so many things.

He managed to both back up without hitting anything and turn us around so that the group of infected were behind us. I looked back to see them fading into the distance, as we drove away. The sight of a little boy no more than five mixed in with the horde made me freeze in my twisted position. His once strawberry-blond curls were matted with blood, and he was only wearing one of those little kid shoes that looked like miniature adult ones. His neck was a mess, the greasy blood dried all over his wound and shirt. I swallowed hard, as I forced myself to sit forward and will the image out of my head.

“All of the major city exit points are going to be like this,” Darren said quietly. “Do you know any other way out of the city?”

Ethan thought about it for a minute, “Yeah, but it’s backtrackin’.”

“Would it involve going through downtown?” Zoe asked, her frantic eyes glued to the windshield.

“No, but it’s a lot of back streets and then roads on the outskirts of town,” he replied.

“Sounds better than running into that,” I said motioning to the back window.

Everyone nodded in agreement.

An hour later we found ourselves on yet another city one-way. This place was littered with them, but the main roads were either blocked or overrun so we stuck to the crappy one-ways.

“You’re goin’ the wrong way,” Chloe studiously pointed out.

“Not like it matters,” Ethan sighed. “There are no people or police to stop us.”

Chloe stared open mouthed at him in disbelief. Her almost ten-year-old mind couldn’t comprehend breaking the law, but yet she seemed to be taking the whole zombie apocalypse thing very well.
Weird kid.

“Look,” Chloe pointed to a billboard sticking out between two buildings. It read
Bobby Joe’s Gun Shop
, and I laughed out loud at the redneck store name.

“What’s so funny?” Zoe asked, looking at me like I was crazy.

“Nothing.” I looked back at the billboard, ignoring everyone’s confused stares.

“That’s where we’re headin’,” Ethan announced, taking the attention away from me.

Here we were, heading off to a gun store, and I had never even held a gun before. This was insanity, which showed just how dire our situation was. I started to bite at my nails, as I worried over that thought. Well, until I looked down in horror and realized my nails much have been covered in germs. I quickly dabbed at my tongue with the inside of my shirt.

“We’re only ‘bout an hour away if we keep on these one-ways,” Ethan announced.

“I can’t wait to have a weapon other than his tire iron,” Darren said, pointing his thumb at Ethan’s weapon of choice.

I wasn’t sure giving Darren a gun or even a bat was a good idea; I hadn’t decided if I trusted him or not. But who was I to say? I shouldn’t be allowed to handle a weapon either.

“You guys know how to handle a gun?” Ethan asked, almost as if he could read my mind.

“Used to go to the gun range all the time,” Darren said.

“I grew up country, used to shoot all the gophers that destroyed the yard,” Zoe admitted.

Everyone looked at me.

“I used to play duck hunt all the time as a kid, does that count?” I offered up.

“So, no guns for you,” Zoe muttered.

“Trust me; it’s for
your
benefit that I stick to a bat.”

Chloe rolled her eyes. “Geez, even I can shoot.”

“Maybe you can teach her then.” Ethan smirked at me via the rearview mirror.

Everyone chuckled at the look on my face.

“But seriously, you’re not actually going to let a nine-year-old wield a gun right?” I asked, not sure if Ethan was joking or not.

We pulled into the gun shop’s parking lot, and by parking lot I mean gravel pit. The only vehicle in the parking lot was a small Mazda.

“Well at least this place doesn’t look touched,” Darren said as he peered out the window.

Ethan and Chloe hopped out and opened the cab doors to let us out as well.

“At least from the outside,” Ethan said. “I’ll go in first and scout the place out. Make sure it’s empty.”

“But–” Chloe grabbed his arm.

Ethan kneeled so he was talking to her face to face. “It’s gonna be fine. You stay here and keep an eye on these folks, okay?” he said calmly, and she nodded.

“I’m going with you,” Darren said, but Ethan shook his head.

“I want you out here in case one of those things comes roamin’ by.” Ethan handed Darren the tire iron. “You keep this one; I have a crowbar in the back.” Ethan walked to the bed of the truck and rooted around until he found our only other weapon; the crowbar.

“I’ll go with you,” I said and even I felt surprised at my words. I wasn’t one to voluntarily put myself into danger. Unless drunk, that is.

Ethan nodded and started toward the front door. I glanced at Zoe, who was giving me a look that I had a hard time placing. She was probably as shocked as I was that I volunteered. I had to run to catch up to Ethan, who was already at the front doors.

“Do you think we should just go in the front doors?” I asked, peering into the dark store.

It looked like they weren’t even open.

“Let’s see if there’s a back door,” Ethan suggested.

Gravel crunched under our feet, as we made our way around to the back. The grass was overgrown, but a worn footpath led us straight to the back door. It was outdated and had an intimidating deadbolt right above the handle. Ethan raised his crowbar to wedge the door open, but I grabbed his arm.

“What if this place has an alarm? We’ll attract everything within miles.”

Ethan seemed to think it over. “What if it doesn’t?”

I made a face at his comeback.

“And if it does, let’s just make sure we are gone before anythin’ shows up.”

“This is a gun store, they’d be stupid not to have an alarm,” I pointed out.

“Exactly, this is a gun store. In the South. Who’d be stupid enough to rob ‘em?” Ethan asked, proud of his reasoning.

“Fine, do what you want,” I muttered as he jammed the crowbar in between the door and frame.

Within a few moments of Ethan grunting at the exertion, the door flew open, and the wooden frame splintered into the air. The dead bolt was still sticking out of the door, but now there was a giant hole in the frame where the bolt tore through. We held our breath as we waited for an alarm or infected person to greet us, but after counting to sixty, nothing happened.

“Well, looks like there’s no alarm,” Ethan said, slightly smug.

Hesitantly we walked into the building, me right behind Ethan. The old wooden floor creaked under our weight making my heart jump into my throat with every step. The air stunk of sulfur and bleach; what I had always assumed a cleaned up murder scene would smell like. The back entrance led straight into the employee only area, as evident by the employee lounge and office we passed.

Both rooms were devoid of people. The hallway ushered us to the sales floor, which was covered wall to wall in guns. Huge rifles and shotguns lined the walls and the display counters were packed with handguns, knives and ammo. Ethan shot me a huge grin, and I could only imagine this was like his version of a candy shop.

“We got lots to choose from,” Ethan whispered, and I nodded as my eyes wandered back to the impressive displays.

There were oversized duffels hanging from a coat rack and I grabbed a couple, handing one to Ethan.

“Should we go grab the others?” I asked. “Or just grab what we can ourselves?”

“No, we can take more if we have more people to carry stuff,” Ethan answered.

We summoned the others from the truck, handing them each a duffel bag to fill as they entered the gun shop.

“This is like Christmas,” Darren grinned as he took in the sight.

“Geez, what kind of Christmas did you have at your house?” I commented.

Everyone else was shopping through the stock, even little Chloe, but I had no idea what to look for. I had never even shot a gun before. I went over to the knife display case only to find it locked.

“We need the display keys,” I announced.

“Yeah, we also need the keys for these guns on the wall,” Darren said as he pulled one only to have it yanked back due to the metal wire locking it in place.

He walked over to the knife display I was at and peered into the glass.

“Well, you don’t really need a key for this.”

Darren raised his coat clad-arm, and I instinctively moved my arm to shield my eyes, knowing full well what he was about to do. With brute force, his elbow connected with the glass display and shards erupted everywhere. Everyone stopped what they were doing at the crashing noise and stared.

“There,” Darren said whilst he stretched out the arm he used as a club.

I wasn’t sure what to say to that so I just nodded, “Thanks, but unless you plan on sawing through the gun holding wires with your teeth, Rambo, we still need a key.”

Darren smiled at that, and I felt like I was looking into the maw of a lion. He was a little more dangerous than he let on. I would have to keep an eye on him.

I put down the duffel bag and walked back to the
Employees Only
area. The keys had to be in the office we passed. Slowly, I opened the door further and peered inside. The room was small; a nondescript desk with papers scattered all over taking up most of the room. On the wall beside the door was a small metal cabinet, and I was willing to bet that was where the keys were hanging.

Inside was a bunch of keys, each labelled with a numbered tag, and I groaned. We would have to test every one in every lock. I was about to grab them all when I noticed the last one was labelled Master Key.
Well that was lucky.
I grinned and shut the cabinet, twirling the key and tag around my finger.

“You find the keys?” Ethan asked as I entered the sales floor.

“I found
the
key.”

Ethan held his hand up for the key, and I tossed it to him. I went back to the smashed knife cabinet, moving some of the larger glass shards off the merchandise. I leaned down to inspect the contents of the display case. Grabbing the largest knife I could find, I pulled it out and unsheathed it. The blade was perfectly sharpened and curved slightly. It looked like a combat knife. I sheathed the blade and threw it into the duffel. After grabbing a couple more, I moved onto the handgun display, which had already been opened, and some guns placed on the display counter top. I eyed a few and picked them up to see how heavy they were.

“You’ll probably want this one,” Ethan said handing me a silver and black gun. “It’s a Beretta 9mm. Nothin’ fancy, but it’s a police and military standard, a good long range pistol, and easy to find attachments and ammo for.”

“Thanks,” I said taking the pistol from him and giving it a good heft. “Seems like it’s a good weight, not too heavy or light.”

Ethan rummaged through the display and produced two matching metal tubes.

“And here are the suppressors for them,” he said, dropping them in my bag.

I grabbed the other matching Beretta and added it to the bag. I also added extra empty magazines and a holster belt attachment that Ethan handed me.

“Well, Mr. Guns and Ammo, what other guns do you recommend?”

Ethan chuckled and led me over to the gun wall. “This here is a Blaser R8 professional rifle, lighter than a regular hunting rifle and holds more rounds,” he rattled off, handing me the sleek, black weapon.

“I have to say this feels weird,” I said raising the gun’s scope to eye level. I could see the crossed lines and aimed my sight to the
Employees Only
sign.

“You need to rest the butt against your collarbone where your arm meets your torso,” Ethan pointed out as he moved the rifle butt from my arm to near my collarbone.

It felt unnatural having it in that spot, but I guess it was for a reason.

“Unless you want a broken arm, I suggest keepin’ it flush against that exact spot,” he added.

“All right,” I said kneeling down to add to my highly illegal collection. “Now on to the ammo.”

We walked over to the shelves, which were jam-packed with small boxes, all marked with sizes and descriptions. I spotted the section that seemed to be labelled 9mm, remembering what Ethan had said about the Beretta’s.

“See ya’ll are learnin’,” Chloe grinned as she threw a bunch of boxes into Ethan’s duffel.

“Know-it-all.”

Ethan showed me which ones to grab for my rifle and I added those to the mix. The bag was extremely heavy with all the guns and ammo now jingling around in there. By the time we were done and standing in the middle of the room, we had done a fair amount of damage to the stock.

“Should we leave money or an I.O.U or something?” Zoe asked as she slung her own over-flowing bag onto her shoulders.

“We could, but I’d bet they’d never collect,” Darren replied. “Plus, you got the thousands of dollars to pay for all this?”

“Why yes I do, right here,” Zoe said making a motioned like she was reaching into her pocket, but produced her middle finger instead of a wad of bills.

We all laughed, and Chloe gaped.

“I was told never to do that.”

“You’re still never to do that, you hear?” Ethan pointing an index finger at her and she nodded.

“Man this is something straight out of a Stallone movie,” Darren grinned as he motioned to all of our stocked duffels. Maybe we shouldn’t have let the potentially mentally unhinged guy gather such an arsenal. But that debate would have to wait.

“We should see what we can find in the back,” I suggested.

Ethan and I started back toward the employee lounge, hopefully to find some food to pack with us. We opened all of the lockers and rummaged through. All I found were granola bars and an opened bag of chips. I shoved the granola bars into my duffel, but left the no doubt stale bag of chips.

“You find anything good?” I asked.

“Case of water,” Ethan said pointing to the case of bottled water sitting in the corner by the fridge.

“Good find.”

“You think we should take some of these paper plates and plastic utensils?” Ethan asked, gesturing to the bags sitting on top of the refrigerator.

“Couldn’t hurt.”

I walked over and grabbed the necks of the bags. Ethan leaned down to pick up the case of water when I heard the unmistakable sound of a gun being cocked right behind me.