TOXIC BLOODLINES: PARADISE - BOOK 2/4

YOU CAME ALL THIS WAY

IAN

I spent my life listening to people tell me how similar I was to my dad, The great Sheriff Diego Valentine, a local hero. Every year, on the anniversary of the fire and his death. I would be reminded of his bravery. His sacrifice. The local news would dedicate a segment to it. 'Paradise Lost.' Old footage documenting the day would be broadcast to the whole town, and experts would share new information on the mysterious cause of the fire, but they could never find it.

If only they knew the truth.

When Richard Stevens was still running the station, he'd dust off the scarred survivors, put em in front of a camera, and have them share their accounts: Blackened skies. Melted roads. Houses burning as far as they could see. And then they would talk about my dad. He and a few other cops stayed behind with the firefighters. My dad helped who he could. Until the smoke got him.

People who knew my dad hoped I'd grow up to be like him someday, carrying on his legacy. The weight of it was suffocating. I was nothing like him.

I wasn't brave.

I wasn't strong enough.

I wasn't a leader like him.

Over the past five months of witnessing how far our enemy would go to break us, I had to stop lying to myself. My dad wasn't brave or superhuman. He stayed behind because someone had to fight back even if it meant forfeiting his life.

Someone had to do it.

Arriving at the rusted gates of that amusement park. One thing was sure. No matter what happens in those mines... It ends tonight. I stepped out of my truck and cut the lock on the gate, taking advantage of the storm to mask any sounds we'd make.

Memories of Daniels and all the hell I had seen here clawed their way to the surface with each step I took. It's just noise. It's just noise.

The metallic sounds of the old rusty Ferris wheel filled the scene. Creaking, and covered with vines like the other weathered rides. The ground was swampy, and half of the park was now underwater, taken back by the lake.

On my right, I could see the spot where Kim's party was. It was nothing but lake water now, the peak of the carousel stuck out. We continued on. The mine entrance was only a yard away.

Approaching our destination, I signaled my team to halt. Through the sound of the rain, I heard the clicks and snarls. Squinting into the dark, I saw them catch the light. "Shit." There were six of those ugly bastards roaming around the entrance which confirmed that we were at the right place.

"We can take 'em," Riley insisted, eager to fight.

I put my arm out to block him. "We don't know how many of them are in there."

"But that's the only way in," Riley pointed out.

"It's not. We can get in from the haunted house. If memory serves me right, there should be a cage we can use to descend into the tunnels. From there we can get to the nest. The only problem is that it might be underwater now. But it's a risk I'm willing to take. Follow me." I led the way.

When we arrived at the haunted house, my suspicions were correct. The attraction was flooded, but the water was only knee-high. So, there was a chance the tunnels might not be that flooded.

I signaled everyone to follow me in, but caution was needed. The walls were dripping with thick mucus. Bloated animal carcasses harboring the parasites stuck to the walls. The smell was exactly how Sara had described. Pushing deeper into the attraction, a layer of film that resembled a membrane covered the water's surface. And pulsating veins coiled around everything.