This Would Be Paradise (Book 3)

Chapter 1

Roy was a dead man. Or he would be if he didn't stop badgering me. He was chomping at the bit to canvas the Gretna area for the mercenary's hideout. I was very much regretting my offer to help, and I'm sure John was just as annoyed since he promised to aid Roy as well.

Life in Hargrove was just starting to settle down after the gruesome murder of my friend Darren, the exile of Byron due to him killing Darren and a bunch of other people, and Wyatt's demotion two weeks ago. Our secret meeting ended with every attendee agreeing that Wyatt needed to be usurped. The next day a petition was circulated to gather signatures calling for his resignation. He was voted out in a landslide.

To his credit, Wyatt handled it with more grace than I thought possible. He didn't pitch a fit, storm out, or scream bloody murder—I probably would have. He was allowed to stay, but his word would no longer be the last. A council had formed, each member from a different "household." No two members could be related by blood or law, dating, or living in the same condo. This way it was a fairer representation of the population. All major decisions, however, would be decided by a democratic vote of the populace. Our "family" voted John to be our voice on the council, even though he didn't particularly want the honor.

"Bailey, it's been weeks," Roy tried again. "I think one scouting mission couldn't hurt." Roy was my friend, but he was being seriously annoying right now.

I gritted my teeth. "Fine, Roy. By all means, grab a vehicle and go." I motioned for the gate.

We were standing in the middle of the cul-de-sac with people bustling around us. At least the impact on everyday life hadn't been too drastic. Most people knew their job and knew it had to be completed regardless of who was in charge.

"You and John said you'd help."

"And at this moment, I'm not too happy with my past self for offering."

Roy glared at me and opened his mouth to say something. But he must have thought better of it because he suddenly clamped his mouth shut. "I'll go find John," he muttered.

Roy stormed off and I breathed a sigh of relief. He would be John's problem for the next hour. I turned to head back to the armory for inventory. I had unofficially taken over Darren's duties – inventory and supply runs. Not that anyone had been outside the gates since Byron was thrown out. We would have to organize a run soon. Oscar, our resident doctor, came out of the medic center waving like a lunatic for me, so I stopped and let him catch up.

"Bailey." He flashed a smile that was ruined by him taking a big gulp of air. "Do you have a moment?"

"I think so." Truth be told, I was kind of dreading being hunched over for who knows how long trying to count guns and bullets.

"It's about Colin."

I narrowed my eyes. "What did he do now?"

Colin had been pranking people around Hargrove, like he was in elementary school again. Small, but annoying pranks that ranged from ringing random doorbells to letting the chickens out of the coop. As if life wasn't exciting enough. Every time I gave him shit, he responded with,
"I'm sorry, Mom," which I hated more than finding a fake press-on nail in my breakfast. Hargrove didn't have the best quality control.

"No, nothing like that. Did he ever mention to you him being sick?"

"What kind of sick? You were the one who examined him back when he got here."

Oscar scratched his head as Sheri passed by, pushing a wheelbarrow full of dirt.

"Hey, guys," she said with a friendly smile.