This Would Be Paradise (Book 1) (17 page)

The drive back to the cabin was fraught with tension, much more so than when we left. Taylor had resorted to shivers and sicklier coughs, like he was in the midst of fighting off the flu. His skin had paled even more than my own skin color, so John used his hand to feel for Taylor’s temperature.

“You’re burnin’ up. Got any Tylenol back there?”

I rooted through the meager pharmacy supplies and produced the extra strength version. I passed two tablets and a bottle of water to Taylor, who regarded my outstretched hand with glassy eyes. He was starting to zone out. Weakly, he took my offerings, struggling with swallowing the pills.

“We’re almost to the cabin, so just hold out a little longer.” John pushed harder on the gas pedal, adding an extra twenty miles an hour to our speed.

The others must have heard us pull up the gravel road because they were lying in wait out front. It felt like we had been gone for weeks, when in reality it had only been two days. I felt both physically and mentally drained, struggling with processing all that had happened to us. And it looked like I had guessed wrong; Taylor was getting worse at an alarming rate.

Chloe ran up to the truck as we opened our doors. “Ethan!” She slammed into him, like a little midget linebacker. Ethan grunted with the force, but squeezed her back.

Zoe wrapped me in a giant bear hug. “You asshole, you were supposed to be back yesterday!”

“Something came up.”

She let me go.

“Ah, what’s wrong with him?” Darren asked, stepping away from Taylor.

Taylor had slunk out of the passenger’s door and was now bent forward. John rushed from the driver’s side to him. “Stay away,” Taylor hissed, as he weakly tried to push his father away.

“Let me see,” John pleaded.

Taylor collapsed to his knees, coughing up blood. The grass around him was sprayed in little red droplets. I heard Zoe gasp, as she grabbed my arm. Everyone backed away, except for John. Ethan clutched Chloe tightly and tried to steer her toward the cabin.

“Taylor.” I shook off Zoe’s grasp and tentatively walked over to him.

“All of you…” He gave a bloody cough. “…need to stay away.” His eyes rolled back in his head and Taylor fell to the ground, his body going into convulsions.

Darren’s hand moved to rest on the gun holster on his hip. “He’s infected, isn’t he?”

The look on my face answered his question, and he glared at Taylor. I held my hand up, telling Darren to stay back. John was hovering over Taylor’s jerking form, his hands waving over his son uselessly. None of us knew what to do; there was nothing we could do. I knew Taylor would turn, and then we would have a big choice to make. After a few moments of spewing blood and spit, Taylor lay still on his side. He didn’t appear to be breathing.

“Taylor?” John said weakly was he crouched over Taylor.

“John, don’t get too close,” I warned as I moved closer.

“Taylor!” John started to shake his motionless body.

“John!” I yelled, knowing full well how a turned person could react.

I ran over to try to pry John off of Taylor’s corpse before he attacked. A hoarse growl escaped Taylor’s lips, and he reached out to grab John’s arm.

“Taylor?” John asked hopeful, but Taylor just let out a low, raspy moan.

I grabbed John’s arm, yanking it free from his grasp on Taylor and tried to steer him backwards. Taylor rose in jerky movements, his eyelids opened to reveal a set of bloodshot eyes. All the blood vessels must have burst in his eyes, creating a sinister set of red orbs. He snarled and lunged for us from his half-sitting position. John was still lying on the ground, so I kicked out with my right foot, hitting Taylor’s corpse under the jaw. He flew backwards but got up fast.

The brief question of why some infected moved faster than others crossed my mind in the confusion. Taylor spotted Zoe and decided to make a dash for her instead. His arms rose in her direction, snapping his teeth. She let out a scream and backed up, tripping over her own feet. Without fanfare, Darren whipped out his handgun and shot Taylor in the head. His body crashed to the side, discolored blood leaking from the wound. Then he laid still, for good this time.

We all just stood still, too afraid to even breathe. A distressed cry came from John, and I let go of the tight grasp I had on the collar of his shirt. He ran to Taylor’s corpse, tears streaming down his face. I could barely make out him saying, “No, no, no,” over and over again. I heard Chloe sobbing into Ethan’s shirt, as he ushered her into the cabin, not wanting her to see anymore. Zoe stayed sitting on the ground, transfixed with Taylor. Darren put his weapon away and helped Zoe to her feet.

Darren hadn’t hesitated to lay waste to Taylor; infected or not, we had lived with the guy for the past two months. When it came down to it, I wouldn’t have been able to do it. That put me even more on edge.

I don’t know what affected me more, the sight of Taylor dead on the ground or John weeping over his body. The sensation of liquid running down my face took me off guard. I wiped at my cheek, realizing I was crying. This was just too much to take, and the tears wouldn’t stop. Taylor and I butted heads constantly, but I didn’t want him dead. And I certainly didn’t wish this on John. 

I stood there awkwardly, not knowing what to do. When it came down to it, I was just an ill-equipped twenty-two-year-old with no comparable life experience. Not wanting to deal with this, I took off to the back of the cabin. Zoe looked like she wanted to follow, but I shot her a look that made her stop in her tracks.

Tears were making it hard to see, so I plunked myself down on the tree stump out back and let them flow. My mom always made remarks on how I wasn’t very girly, never crying much as I grew up. The only person I have ever known to die was my grandmother, but I was seven when it happened and wasn’t old enough to understand. Now I realized why I never cried a whole lot growing up; I had nothing to cry about, until now.

We had become our own little dysfunctional family. Taylor was like that brother you fought with, but at the end of the day still cared for. The tears had stopped now, leaving my eyes feeling swollen and my nose had become stuffed up. I felt gross. This is why I didn’t like crying, you felt worse afterwards than you did before.

“Hey,” Zoe said, as she hesitantly approached me.

I wiped at my face, trying to clear the streaks left behind by the tears. “Hey,” my voice nasally from the stuffed up nose.

“So that was rough.”

“Just a little,” I muttered.

“Darren thinks we should deal with the body soon.”

“Fuck Darren.”

Zoe seemed taken aback by my reaction. “You know, someone would have had to shoot Taylor,” she said quietly.

“That’s not the issue. We’ll give John as much time as he needs.”

Zoe was right. If Darren hadn’t shot Taylor, someone else would have had to. It did however, bother me how little it seemed to affect him and that he didn’t use a silencer. That shot was loud.

I got up and we walked back to the cabin. John was still beside Taylor’s body, but Darren had disappeared. When I opened the door, Chloe was chattering away nervously and Ethan was trying to calm her down. He stood up off of the dusty couch when we entered.

“He still out there?” Ethan asked.

“Yeah.”

“What do we do?”

“I don’t have a clue.”

Darren turned up a few hours later covered in dirt. He propped the shovel he was carrying against the cabin.

“I dug him a grave,” he looked over at John, still sitting beside Taylor’s body. “For when John’s ready.”

That was oddly nice of Darren. Or creepy. I couldn’t decide. We had waited in the cabin for John, but he just remained by Taylor’s fallen body. We had gathered outside in the hopes that John would do something or at the very least get up. I walked over to him. The sun was starting to set behind the treeline, creating an orange glowing effect along the tips of the trees. Their shadows were extending closer and closer to us, like silent, grabbing hands.

“John,” I placed a hand on his shoulder. “We have to do something for Taylor. Darren dug a grave for him.”

John took a deep breath before he replied, “Are there any extra sheets?”

“Yes there are, I’ll be right back.” Ethan ran back into the cabin.

He re-emerged a minute later with an off-white sheet. Together, we placed the sheet flat on the ground and lifted Taylor’s stiff body onto it, then wrapped him fully.

“Where did you dig the grave?” I asked Darren.

He pointed to the east treeline, “Just under those trees.”

I grabbed the shovel as Ethan and John lifted Taylor. We walked to the trees in a makeshift funeral precession. Chloe ran to the cabin flower beds and ripped out some blooming buds. Gently, they lowered Taylor’s body into the shallow, uneven grave. I couldn’t chastise Darren for the crappy quality; digging was hard.

The sheet clad body looked out of place among the wildlife. I stabbed the shovel into the soft ground, not sure how to proceed. I had never been to a funeral before.

After an awkward period of silence, John cleared his throat.

“
Suffer us not, at our last hour, for any bitter pains of death, to fall from Thee. And we beseech thee oh Lord to receive with mercy unto thine arms the soul of our dear departed brethren today, that we may rejoice in their life and honor their passing to thy eternal care
.” He looked down at the grave, pain etched into his features as he took a breath. “
Even though I walk through the valley of the shadow of death, I will fear no evil, for you are with me; your rod and your staff, they comfort me.”

When he finished, silence reigned once again.
I guess I should say something.
I cleared my throat and all heads turned to me.

“Taylor was like family. We all are. And when we lose a family member, they cannot be replaced. He was like a brother to me. We fought and got along like siblings. At the end of the day all that matters is that we were there for each other, just like Taylor was there for us. He tried to teach me to hunt, unsuccessfully might I add. But he did manage to teach me something else: what is means to be brave. We would have never made it out that police station if not for his sacrifice. That is what it means to be family.”

John looked at me with appreciation in his eyes. “Amen.”

He bent down and grabbed a handful of dirt, sprinkling it onto the body. I went next and then everyone else after me. I started shoveling the dirt pile back into the hole, but Darren stilled my efforts with a hand on my shoulder. He held his hand out for the tool, so I passed it to him, and he continued where I had left off. Since the hole wasn’t that deep, it didn’t take long to fill. Chloe placed her freshly picked flowers on top of the grave.

Zoe had taken off and reappeared with a makeshift cross to use as a grave marker. She stuck it near where Taylor’s head would be and Darren hammered it in further with the shovel. Darkness was now upon us, so we started to head back to the cabin. John was the last to leave as he whispered something to the grave that was not meant for our ears.

That night was awful; I laid wide awake staring at nothing. Zoe was snoring away beside me and there was no chance in hell I would get any sleep. Quietly, I crept out into the kitchen. A while ago I had spotted a bottle of Jack Daniels shoved to the back of one of the cupboards. Ethan probably didn’t even know about it and I could really use a drink.

I snatched it from its resting place, careful not to wake John who was sleeping on the pull-out couch thanks to some strong sleeping pills I had forced him to take. I pocketed the match book that was sitting on the counter on my way out. The door clicked into place soundlessly as I carefully closed it. The fire pit out back was my destination. I did have my knife with me should I need it.

The starlight vaguely illuminated my path to the back, but I still wished I had brought a flashlight. I knocked into one of the camping chairs, which meant I was where I wanted to be. The match sprang to life as I dragged the head along the package rough patch. I tossed it in the fire pit and the dry wood caught on fire instantly, but the flames were dull and weak so I packed on some thin pieces. It crackled with the new addition and I shrank into my chair.

A quarter of the whisky bottle later, I was feeling pretty good. I felt warm. Invincible.
I wonder if I put my hand into the fire, if would it hurt?
Okay, maybe I was a little drunk. I tried to get up, but I fell back on my ass.

“Stupid chair,” I muttered.

“You drunk?” Ethan drawled, suddenly very much beside me. Normally I would have heard him approach, but he had caught me off guard. I waved the bottle at him.

“Not yet.” I took another drink from the bottle and then offered it to him. He eyed it for a second then took a drink himself, as he pulled up a chair beside me.

“Didn’t peg you for a drinker,” he said passing the bottle back to me.

“Really? The girl who was in New Orleans for Mardi Gras?” I took another drink.

“Touché,” he smirked at me.

“Well, I’m not normally a get drunk drinker. I find this whole apocalypse thingy goes down a lot smoother with a bottle of Jack,” I grinned drunkenly.

Ethan rolled his eyes and held his hand out for the bottle again. “You know, Taylor’s death affected us all. Are you…” He searched for the right word. “…okay?”

I sighed at his anticlimactic word choice. “Someone just died. No, I’m not okay.”

“Well, I’m here for you if you need to talk or anythin’. I care about you, Bailey.” I couldn’t really tell in the dim light, but he looked serious when he said that. That wouldn’t do.

“Why Ethan, that’s the nicest thing you’ve ever said to me.” I batted my eyelashes at him and he scowled down into the bottle. “Gimme.” I wiggled my fingers at the whisky.

“I think you’ve had enough,” Ethan grinned evilly, taking another drink of my Jack Daniels –

well it was mine now. I narrowed my eyes.

“So that’s how you want to play this? I should warn you I’ve been told I’m a mean drunk.” I reached for the bottle, the grin widening on his face as I missed completely.

“That the best you got?” he mocked.

I shocked both of us when I jumped at him from my chair and knocked us over. I took advantage of his surprise by grabbing the bottle out of his grasp, my drunken reflexes working overtime. “Ha!” I yelled proudly as I held the bottle up.

“Jesus, woman!” Ethan said as he sat back up right.

“Told you not to mess with my Jack,” I said matter-of-factly, taking a drink.

We were sitting really close, our arms slightly touching, but neither of us moved away. We just sat in comfortable silence, sharing the bottle on the ground instead of our chairs.

“I’m gonna need to pick up some more of this wonderful stuff when we make our next trip,” I slurred.

“You can’t hold your liquor, can you city girl?” Ethan shook his head beside me.

“Sorry, we can’t all be country folks, who are used to Uncle Willy’s ‘shine,” I retorted but my slurring kind of ruined the impact, and Ethan chuckled.

“We should go back inside.”

“I don’t wanna go back in there,” I pouted.

Ethan shook his head, then gave into the booze and took another long drink. An ember flew from the fire and landed on Ethan’s pants. He hissed in pain as he patted the spot where it had burnt a hole through his jeans. I laughed at his exaggerated response. He acted like his leg was on fire.

“S’not funny,” he slurred, his accent becoming more pronounced.

He sighed and grinned at my chuckling face. He moved in closer, and I stopped laughing. I knew what he was going to do and I wasn’t as opposed to it as I should be. His warm lips covered my own and I kissed him back. I rested my hand on his thigh and he gripped the back of my head, pulling me in closer. This would be awkward in the morning, but in my drunken state of mind, I found I didn’t care.

He smelt of guy body wash and tasted like whiskey. Using his body, he gently pushed my back to the ground so he was on top of me. His lips moved to my neck, and I ran my hands through his hair, which really needed a haircut. He winced when my roaming hand went over his bandaged arm.

“Sorry,” I said, breathless.

Instead of responding, he just crushed his lips back to mine. I ran my hands down his toned torso and felt his abdomen contract at the touch. He grabbed my roaming hand, not hard though, just enough to stall it.

“We shouldn’t continue this.” He was panting as he said this.

Rejection washed over me in a fierce tidal wave, no doubt worse because of the alcohol. I tried to shove him off, but he removed himself from on top of me without any more effort on my part. I stumbled, as I attempted getting up. Ethan tried to lend a hand, but I swatted it off as I stomped away from the fire pit
. How dare he reject me when he was the one who started it!

“Bailey!” Ethan hissed behind me as he caught up to me. “You misunderstand.” He latched onto my arm and swung me around so I was facing him.

“What?” I demanded.

“You misunderstand. It’s not that I don’t want to… well you know.” He looked really uncomfortable as he tried to explain himself. “It’s just that I don’t have any precautions.”

“You mean condoms?”

The dark was obscuring my view, but I was willing to bet he was blushing a little.

“Yes. Maybe when we get some, we can continue this?” He sounded hopeful, and I laughed.

I had to put my hands on my knees I was laughing so hard. Tears were threatening to over flow with my giggling. Now it was his turn to be pissed.

“It ain’t funny.”

“No, it kind of is, but you’re right. I’m willing to bet Zoe thought to grab a box or two back when we were all at the grocery store months ago.”

I found it funny how I prided myself on being the responsible one, but here Ethan was proving me wrong. Pregnancy was scary on a regular day, let alone when the world had gone to shit and there was nowhere safe.

“Maybe you could ask to borrow some?” He scratched the back of his head awkwardly.

“I’m sure that would be a bad idea. But maybe I’ll sneak a few when she’s not looking.” I winked and he pulled me in for a kiss again. 

“I still don’t want to go back in there.”

“We could sleep in the hammock.”

I thought about it. “Sure.” It beat listening to Zoe’s snoring for the rest of the night.

The hammock in question was a freestanding one that you could buy from any outdoor store, and it was close to the fire pit. He laid down first and then offered his hand for me.

“How gentlemanly.”

I took his outstretched hand and settled in the crook of his arm.

“Night.”

I don’t remember what I replied with; the darkness took over as soon as I closed my eyes.