This Would Be Paradise (Book 3)

Chapter 9

"Shit, shit, shit," Rose muttered to herself.

The keys jangled in her hand as she fidgeted. Thankfully, she hadn't dropped the keys, not that we could use them at the moment.

"This is what we get for followin' a cripple," the Tough-guy said as he strained against the door he was keeping closed.

I shot him a look telling him to shut up, then turned to face George. I held out my hand for the map and he placed the pocket book in my hand. After flipping to the back, I realized his map didn't reflect the double metal doors we had run into. I wanted to scream, but I couldn't really begrudge George, after all, he had drawn the schematics off of memory alone. But it was still really disappointing.

The door groaned and the big guy was shoved forward. Leo quickly ran and slammed against the door to help keep it closed. Hands scrapped and banged along the glass, sending me back to the time we were in Wal-Mart and the infected had burst through the two sets of glass doors and we were powerless to stop them. At least in here, they would have to somehow climb over half the wall to get to through the glass window.

"What do we do?" Leo asked.

I threw my hands in the air, the metal frame piece in my hand hitting the roof. "I don't fucking know!"

Instead of staring at me, their gazes were all on the roof. The metal rod had lifted up one of the roof panels.

"Think it'll hold us?" Tough-Guy asked.

I set down my bed frame piece and grabbed the desk chair, rolling it underneath the exposed panel. George held onto the back of the chair to stop me from rolling away as I climbed up. My head poked through the opening and dust instantly assailed me. I had to crouch back down to hack up the particles in my lungs until my eyes watered. Using my shirt, I covered my mouth and nose and tried again.

Without the main lights on, I couldn't see a thing. I reached up and tried to use the beams to hold myself up to test how much weight it could take. When I didn't come falling down, I lifted myself higher, but I didn't have the upper body strength to lift my entire body that way. My arms gave out and I crashed back down on the chair, almost falling off as the chair swiveled from the impact. George gave me an apologetic look.

"Give me a boost," Rose demanded as she shoved the chair out of the way.

George and I kneeled, each taking one of her feet. Together we heaved and lifted Rose up like a couple of cheerleaders doing a routine. Rose was small, so it wasn't so much of a strain. If we had to do this for the big-guy, I didn't think we would get him very far. The weight we were holding eased up as Rose crawled into the space above the roof tiles. She peered down at us through the panel opening.

She teetered back and forth as she tested her weight. "Seems okay, can't see worth a shit, though."

Gunfire, closer than before, echoed over the sound of the infected outside the office. We needed to get gone right now.

"Push that desk over," Tough-Guy commanded.

George and I drug the heavy desk over to the door. We shoved it as close as we could while Leo and Tough-Guy's bodies were still bracing the door.

"One, two, three!"

On three, we pushed the desk up against the door just as they moved out of the way. It opened a couple of inches from the pushing on the other side, but was quickly closed as we got the desk in place.

"This won't hold for long," Tough-Guy stated the obvious.

His words were emphasized with more automatic gunfire. If they found us in here, we would be easily picked off-if they got past the horde of infected, that is.

"Lift me first and I can help pull you guys up," he said.

It took the three of us to push the big guy up to the ceiling panels. His legs flailed as if he was swimming as he shimmied into the small space. He couldn't kneel like Rose was, so he stayed on his stomach and lowered an arm.

Next, Leo and I hoisted George up. He was suspended between the ceiling and the floor when gunfire started outside the office. I let out a yelp as a bullet pierced the office window and Leo and I ducked instinctively. They hadn't gotten a good grip on George, so he came crashing down with us. He landed with an "Oomph," on top of us. I groaned in pain from the impact. George may not have been big, but that still hurt.

Automatic fire continued, spraying the window with blood and holes. We crawled under the desk braced against the door and pushed it over to use like a shield. The gunfire seemed to be concentrated at eye level, not floor, so I hoped they didn't start shooting randomly. A door and desk could only hold so much.

Finally, the glass gave way and shards fell to the ground. A couple of dead infected slumped over, impaling themselves on the larger, still attached glass around the edges of the window. Blood ran down the wall underneath the window, pooling and spreading like it was still searching for us.

The gunfire had stopped and I let out the breath I had been holding, only to suck it back in when I heard people speaking. My ears were ringing from the spray of bullets and my blood pounding like a drum, so I couldn't even make out if it was a female or male voice, just that there were words being spoken. Leo jerked a finger toward the bed frame piece in the middle of the room. I shook my head. They would see us for sure if someone moved right now to get it. I was hoping that whoever was out there would keep moving now that they had taken out the horde.

He licked his lips and ignored me as he dove for it. I grabbed at his shirt as he moved, trying to hold him back. He swatted my hand and turned to mouth, "Let go." I mouthed back, "No." Even George was shaking his head and had latched onto Leo's leg to drag him back. Leo gave up and slunk back to our hiding space, his chin jutting out. Please move on. I snuck a peek at the roof, but Rose and Tough-Guy were nowhere to be seen.

My heart lurched as the voices got closer. Please go away, please go away. I squeezed my eyes closed, not wanting to see my death coming. Leo's hand found mine and he latched onto it, gripping it tight. After everything, is this how I would end up going out? It seemed so ... unfair. I'm sure that's how most people felt when staring imminent death in the face.

"Ho-ly shit, Bailey!"