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

Chapter 30

Both Roy and I froze in our crouched position.

"Hello? Wyatt, that you?" the radio asked.

Before I could grab his arm, Roy ran to the radio. He scooped up the receiver and hit the button.

"Yes, we're here. Hello?"

"Wyatt? That don't sound like you."

I knocked the microphone out of Roy's grip like I was swatting an insolent child's hand.

"Roy! Now Wyatt's going to know," I hissed as I flicked the toggle switch to off.

All the equipment went dead.

"How else am I going to find Irene?"

"With these ID numbers," I pointed to the scribbler.

Carefully, I ripped out a blank page and copied down all the numbers.

"Tim's trucker radio is only going to pick up the frequencies at a closer range," Roy said.

"Bring it tomorrow and try it when we're back on the road. Maybe we'll be able to narrow down the location. Or we can try to find one of those extender things," I suggested.

Roy stared at Wyatt's equipment wistfully.

"Alright."

I was glad he could see reason this time. Last time he let his emotions get the better of him, he killed our only lead. I passed him my copied sheet and he shoved it in his pocket.

"We need to make this look like we were never here," I said.

Roy nodded and got to work turning all the dials back to their original position while I went back to the closet to pack up the trunk of horrors. After, we took a few steps back and examined the place. In my eyes, it looked like everything was where it was when we entered, so we relocked the door and went back out the window. Roy put the screen back in place and closed the window.

"Find anythin'?" John asked.

"Oh yeah, but we need to head back to the memorial," I said.

"I'll meet you guys there. I gotta put away my tools first," Roy said as he held up the bag.

We all split up. John and I entered back together instantly being bombarded by Zoe.

"You feeling better?" she asked.

"A bit. How long do you think this will go?"

"Just 'bout another hour I'd say," John answered.

I stifled a groan; that would be considered rude at a memorial. John gently ushered me to an empty table.

"So what did you find?"

"We think we found the frequency for the mercenaries," I whispered. "And I found a trunk full of bloody female clothes and a knife that had been used."

John sat back in the chair. He rubbed his hand along his jaw, and then winced when he hit a bruise.

"You think Wyatt did it?"

"I have no idea. It's either that or he's hiding the evidence for one of his cronies," I sighed.

I had no proof, just some circumstantial evidence. Either way, this place wasn't safe.

"We still headin' out tomorrow for that other group?"

"Yes."

Although I wasn't sure I should bring them into this place knowing full well there was a killer on the loose. Maybe once we got them, we could all form a new safe haven somewhere. But where would we go? And I'd have a hell of a time trying to convince Ethan to leave. Hargrove was already setup and working, minus the murders of course.