This Would Be Paradise (Book 2)-A Zombie Novel

Chapter 7

"Man, I'm out of shape," Mac wheezed as he dragged another body to the truck bed.

"I could have told you that," said the doorman, who had introduced himself as José earlier.

Mac shot him a glare and José smirked in response. "Oh that's hilarious, Mr. Hair Gel." His grin fell away to a growl. I had a feeling they bantered like this often.

Tim had us out here pretty much as soon as the sky was lit up. When we started there were puddles of rain water everywhere and now with the high noon sun beating down on us, the puddles had evaporated. I was starting to sweat from the heat and effort, my elbow groaning like an unoiled hinge. It was kind of worrying; I was a little too young to have joint problems.

All the able bodies had been conscripted into corpse duty, minus the kids of course. A lady as old as sixty was out here with us, making me feel a little bad about complaining. She hadn't made one grouchy remark all day.

Tim shared the bare minimum with us, saying that we would round up all the bodies and dump them in the primary school's soccer field. Then use as little gasoline as possible to create a controlled burn. I was not looking forward to that last part. I was already imaging how awful the smell of burnt flesh was going to be.

After the last visible body had been thrown into the back of the Avalanche and other red truck, Tim made his announcement.

"Thank you everyone for your cleanup efforts. Please go rest and get something to eat. Roy, Karla, Bailey and I will take it from here."

I frowned when he included me in his plans, for all he knew I was planning to leave right after this. Roy looked over at me, appreciation on his face. He must have thought I volunteered. By the time we were done, it would be too late to leave again. This stalling was becoming insidious. One day we would look back and realize we had been here for months.

I got in one of the trucks with Roy at the wheel and we took off after Tim in the larger truck.

"You guys do this often?" I asked as I massaged my elbow.

"Usually its groups of five or so, never this many," Roy looked over at me. "We can get you a Tensor bandage for your elbow when we get back."

"Thanks."

"Did you injure your elbow falling down the stairs too?" Roy smirked.

"Fence this time."

"Sure, sure," Roy said airily. "You sure are clumsy."

I had never noticed how predisposed to injury I was until Roy pointed it out.

"I'm not clumsy, I'm-," I thought about it. "Accident-prone."

Roy grunted in response. I was about to argue my point further when the school appeared in our sightlines. We followed the larger truck over the curb and further into the backyard of the school. The grass was worn with tire tracks and a burnt smell, like meat that fell into the barbeque flames, hung in the air. The truck stopped in front of the soccer field, except now it had been transformed into an outdoor crematorium. Various mounds of burnt bodies sat in the center, ash coating the rest of the field.

I hadn't realized how long I had been staring until Roy patted my shoulder, "Come on. The sooner we get this done, the sooner we can leave this place."

I got out of the truck and the smell grew tenfold. Roy handed me a bandana to cover my face so I tied it to sit on the bridge of my nose. It helped to reduce the smell by a little bit. First, Tim had found some pallets to place the bodies on so they burnt better and then we got to work dragging the bodies into their own new pile.