Heaven Before Hell: A Post-Apocalyptic Paranormal Romance Series (Prequel to Heaven in Hell)

by Dia Cole

  Cami, naked as the day she was born, was crouched over an equally naked Ronnie. Her mouth was latched around his throat. She was making soft slurping sounds.

  “Cami, what are you doing?”

  She glanced up. Blood dripped down her mouth and chin, giving her a creepy clown-like appearance.

  I stumbled back, my mouth dropping open in horror.

  She was abnormally pale and covered with dark black veins. They spiderwebbed across every inch of her skin from the pads of her bare feet to the roots of her blond hair.

  Her pearlescent eyes fixed on my face, but there was no recognition there.

  Oh, crap.

  I struggled to breathe.

  She shambled to her feet and swayed from side to side.

  Catching sight of her, Reed inhaled sharply. “What the—”

  Cami growled and sniffed the air like an animal tracking prey. Seeming to lock in on us, she gnashed her teeth together.

  The clicking noise brought me straight back to the alley the night before.

  Not a prank. Not a prank.

  The room spun around me as I gasped for air.

  Jess was a zombie. And now so was Cami.

  Cami walked into the back of the couch. Seemingly confused, she clawed the air in front of her trying to reach us.

  Struck dumb, all I could do was stare at what had become of my best friend.

  Reed pushed me out of the way. “Ronnie.”

  I grabbed his arm. “Reed, no. He’s…dead.”

  As if to belie my words, Ronnie’s body twitched and spasmed on the floor.

  Reed tore out of my grasp. “He’s still alive.” He rushed around the couch and confronted Cami. “What did you do to him?”

  Cami lunged for him and tackled him to the ground.

  “Reed,” I screamed.

  Cami snapped her jaws at his throat.

  Reed dropped the bat, using both hands to grapple with Cami. “What the hell is wrong with her?”

  I couldn’t speak.

  This can’t be happening. Things like this didn’t happen.

  “Lee,” Reed screamed as Cami’s teeth came within a hairbreadth of his neck.

  Adrenaline flooded my body. Shaking off my temporary paralysis, I grabbed the bat. “Get off him!” I screamed, rushing over to Reed’s side. I swung the bat, hitting her in her shoulder.

  She rolled off Reed into the side of the TV stand.

  With my heart in my throat, I watched the ancient 36-inch tube TV wobble and fall over on top of her.

  Seemingly oblivious to the two-hundred-pound weight on her chest, Cami thrashed and kicked her feet.

  Reed scrambled to his feet. “No, freakin’ way.” His gaze was glued on Cami who was impossibly trying to fight her way free.

  How can she survive being crushed by that weight?

  She can’t, answered an insidious voice in my head.

  A rustling noise had Reed and me spinning around.

  Ronnie stood at the end of the couch. The blood still pouring down his hairy chest contrasted vividly with his cadaver-white skin. Portions of his trachea were visible through the tattered flesh of his throat.

  His eyes snapped open.

  “Ronnie?” Reed gasped.

  Ronnie’s milky gaze swiveled in Reed’s direction. He let out a moan and lurched forward.

  “Run,” I shouted.

  Shaking his head in disbelief, Reed backed away. He slipped on a puddle of blood and skidded into the couch.

  Ronnie chattered his teeth as if in excitement.

  “Get away from him.” I ran between them, raising the bat. When Ronnie came within striking distance, I swung at his head.

  Crunch.

  He hit the floor.

  I raised the bat again.

  “Don’t hurt him,” shouted Reed.

  “He’s trying to eat you,” I cried, incredulous.

  Reed tried to yank the bat out of my hand. “Stop it, Lee. You’ll kill him.”

  Ronnie rose again. The side of his head had crumpled in, like an egg that had been squeezed too hard.

  Reed paled. “Get back, man. For the love of Christ, get back, Ronnie.”

  Taking several unsteady steps forward, Ronnie growled and gnashed his teeth.

  Ronnie was inches from Reed. He reached out his hands.

  Seeming to realize the danger he was in, Reed backed into me.

  I pushed him behind me and swung the bat at Ronnie’s face. On contact, portions of skull and pink brain matter splattered over the wall.

  Ronnie collapsed onto the floor, motionless. This time he didn’t get back up.

  My arm shook with the reverberations from the bat. I dropped it to the floor.

  Reed’s face paled. His entire body shook as he looked at the remains of his best friend. “What just happened?”

  Cami growled, drawing our attention back to her.

  I walked closer, noting that her chest was crushed nearly flat. Portions of her broken ribs peeked through her torn flesh. Still, she tossed her head from side to side and beat at the television set.

  Catching sight of me, her thrashing grew more frantic.

  “Cami,” I whispered, tears burning my eyes.

  She snarled, clawing for my leg.

  I took a step back. My brain had already accepted what my heart refused to believe. She was gone. My best friend was dead and this…mindless creature was all that was left.

  A cry escaped my lips. Cami, who took me under her wing when I first started at the club. Cami, whose blasé attitude about sex never failed to shock me. Cami, who was more than a little crackpot crazy. Cami, who’d cut off her left arm for her family and me…

  My legs gave out. I sank to the ground, kneeling next to her.

  “What’s going on, Lee?”

  I looked up at Reed through my tears.

  “I don’t know.”

  Reed moved closer to Cami. “She’s not breathing. How can she move without breathing?”

  I wiped my tears with the back of my shaking hand. “There’s one only explanation.”

  Reed looked back at Ronnie, shaking his head back and forth as if he couldn’t accept the idea. He pinched the bridge of his nose. “He’s dead.” His voice tightened. “You killed him.”

  “He was already dead. They’re zombies, Reed.” It was insane. But no other theory explained what we’d just seen. My mind flashed to the news segment from the night before. “There’ve been reports of this happening to other people. We have to check the news.”

  “My phone is dead and…” Reed waved his hand over the smashed TV. “The TV is toast.”

  I pointed down the hall. “Eden’s got a set in her room.”

  “What about her?” Reed pointed at Cami.

  I pushed myself to my feet, refusing to look back at my friend. “She’s not going anywhere.”

  He opened his mouth to say something, but I was already running down the hallway. I pushed into Eden’s room and immediately stepped in the piles of dirty clothes stacked all over her floor.

  I wrinkled my nose at the disturbing scents emanating from the cluster of empty dog cages in the far corner of her room. They were all that remained of Eden’s ill-fated attempt at turning our place into an underground dog rescue. My stomach turned over on itself. I switched to breathing through my mouth.

  Reed dug through the wrinkled pink comforter on her bed. “Here’s the remote.” He pointed it at the small television set on her cluttered dresser.

  Black-and-white dots danced on the screen.

  Reed strode over to the TV and played with the antennas until a fuzzy image of lions resting on a grassy savanna appeared.

  “Being mainly nocturnal animals, lions do the majority of their hunting at night,” narrated a man with a crisp British accent.

  Reed pounded on the remote and the channel changed.

  An image of people running out of a Chinese shopping mall appeared. It was quickly followed by footage of people rioting in front of L.A. s
torefronts. The next images showed German police officers firing on an approaching crowd gathered around a hospital. The shambling people had the all-too-familiar vacant white gaze. The bullets tore through flesh, sending some of the crowd careening back. They righted themselves and kept coming.

  My chest grew tight.

  This is bad. Really bad.

  A harried-looking local reporter appeared on the screen. “As you can see, these disturbing images are coming in from all over the world. The Centers for Disease Control and the World Health Organization have issued a joint statement alerting Americans to the discovery of a new deadly virus. This so-called Z-virus reportedly has no relation to the canine flu.”

  The screen flashed to a national press conference in Washington where a silver-haired woman dressed in a navy suit with shoulder pads as big as her fists stood at a podium.

  “At this time, we have not yet ascertained the origins of the Z-virus. What we do know is that it is a fatal, highly communicable, blood-borne virus. Signs of infection include the presence of dark purple or black veins that spread across the body. Current antiviral medications are proving ineffective in stopping the virus. However, our scientists are hard at work researching this new virus and we will develop a cure.”

  “How do you address reports that the Z-virus turns people into zombies?” shouted one of the reporters in the audience.

  “Preposterous,” said the woman with a sneer. “In some cases, the effect of the virus on cerebral functioning may lead to the types of aggressive or abnormal behavior we see with rabies.”

  “Rabies, my ass.” I fisted my hands. Those infected with rabies didn’t attack and eat other people. And rabies couldn’t explain dead people getting up and moving.

  Reed shook his head at the TV. “Why would they lie?”

  On TV another reporter asked, “What about the purported link between the canine flu vaccination and the Z-virus?”

  The woman held up her perfectly manicured hands. “Let me be clear, there’s no known link between the vaccine and the Z-virus. We encourage everyone to continue receiving their vaccines. We do, however, ask that those who’ve already had a documented case of the canine flu hold off on getting the shot for now.”

  The hair on the back of my neck rose, I turned to Reed. “Did you get the vaccine?”

  “Not yet.”

  I let out a relieved breath. “Good.”

  “Do you think there’s a link?”

  “I don’t know, but Cami got her vaccination yesterday. She’d felt weird ever since.”

  He paled. “If the vaccine is causing this…”

  I finished his sentence in my head and shuddered at the implications. Millions of people had already received the government-mandated vaccination.

  The television screen switched back to the local reporter. “Health officials are advising residents to avoid all those potentially infected with the Z-virus and to stay in their homes until more information becomes available. Saguaro Valley police will be enforcing curfew—”

  The mention of police reminded me of my sister. “We have to get Eden.” I needed her safe from whatever the hell was going on.

  Reed’s gaze flickered to the clock on Eden’s nightstand. “Her arraignment starts in at eight thirty. That’s in fifteen minutes.”

  “Then there’s no time to waste. Go get ready.” I ran into my room to throw on some clothes, get my purse, and grab my father’s knife.

  There’s no telling what we’ll encounter out there…

  9

  As Reed and I stepped outside, a wail of sirens sounded in the distance. They were quickly drowned out by the sound of helicopter blades slicing through the sky.

  Reed glanced up at the nearly two dozen military choppers flying overhead. “What the…?”

  I looked at the retreating helicopters and swallowed hard.

  If there is this much activity going to and from the army base, some seriously bad juju is going down.

  “We need to get Eden and fast. Let’s go in Cami’s car.” I held up the keys I’d slipped out of Cami’s purse before we left.

  How like Cami to have a sparkly lip-shaped keychain.

  Cami…

  Tears welled in my eyes. I took a deep breath and forced the pain away.

  I can’t think about her right now. The only thing that matters is getting Eden.

  I stiffened my spine and dried my eyes on the back of my hand.

  Reed looked as shaken as I felt. His hands shook as he pointed to the carport. “We should take the bus instead.”

  I shook my head at the sight of Gran’s old beat-up Volkswagen van. Its flaking burnt-orange paint job was plastered over by hundreds of bumper stickers. “That thing hasn’t run in ten years.”

  “I’ve been fixing her up.”

  No way are we taking chances with a vehicle decades older than we are.

  “We’re taking Cami’s car.” I nodded in the direction of the fire-engine red sports car across the street.

  “The Miata’s a two-seater. The three of us won’t fit in that. Like Gran used to say, trust in the love bus…” He flashed me a sad smile. “I’ll drive. She has a manual transmission.”

  I hated that he had a point. “Fine, just stop calling that rust bucket a she.” I stuffed Cami’s keys in my purse and followed him to the van. “You better run, you hunk of junk,” I muttered under my breath as I walked around to the passenger seat.

  There were times when I regretted never learning to drive stick. This wasn’t one of them.

  Reed rounded the vehicle ahead of me. He opened the front passenger door, and gave a gallant bow.

  The smell of marijuana and cheeseburgers wafted out.

  My stomach churned, reminding me of how I’d abused it last night. Mentally beating back the nausea, I climbed into the tattered vinyl seat.

  Reed circled back to the driver’s side, jumped into the front seat, and put the key in the ignition.

  The engine coughed and made a grating metal on metal sound.

  He put his hands up. “Don’t give me that look. She does run. She just needs a little time to get warmed up.”

  Agitated, I drummed my fingers on the side of the window. Time was something we didn’t have. If the police station hadn’t been ten miles away, and I hadn’t been hungover, I would’ve insisted on walking.

  Reed paused mid ignition turn. “Are we going to talk about last night?”

  Not this. Not now.

  I stared straight out the window. “We need to get to Eden. We can talk later.”

  “Lee,” he said in a pleading tone.

  A softball lodged in my throat. After what I’d just been through, this was the last thing I needed. I slowly turned to find him staring at me. No matter how much I wished I could erase last night, there was no denying the awkward new awareness that’d sprung up between us.

  My gaze was drawn to his long, tanned fingers wrapped around the steering wheel. The same fingers had caressed me last night. I shivered and forced myself to look away.

  A mistake. A giant, huge, colossal mistake.

  “We both drank too much and acted like idiots. Can we agree to never to talk about it again?”

  He froze. “But I love you.”

  Not the L-word again.

  My stomach cramped hard. No matter how gorgeous and sweet Reed was I could never love him or anyone else. I held up one hand. “Please don’t go there. There’s a reason I don’t date. I’m not capable of having romantic relationships, with anyone.”

  My mother’s horrific death ensured that.

  Seeing the devastated look on his face had me adding, “Right now.”

  “Right now,” he echoed. His lips curled up at the corner. “Good thing I’m a patient man.” He reached over and put his hand over mine.

  I wanted to groan.

  Great. Now I’ve given him false hope.

  I snatched my hand away. “Can you just drive?”

  Reed saluted me. “Aye-aye, Captain.
”

  The engine finally turned over on his third try. He kicked it into Drive and the van puttered down the street, sounding like a wheezing old man. Our neighborhood was quiet, but that wasn’t abnormal for this time of year. College students rented many of the houses on our street and most of them went home on winter break. The rest of the homeowners weren’t exactly the eight-to-five white-collar working crowd.

  Reed waved to Jerry, a giant bear of a man who apparently didn’t own a shirt.

  Jerry pushed his trash can onto the curb, and tipped his open beer in our direction.

  Yet another reminder we needed to move.

  “Gotta remember to take the trash out.” Reed said, nodding his head as if he was mentally adding it to his to-do list.

  I sputtered. “Trash? We’ve got more important things to worry about.”

  He white-knuckled the steering wheel. “Right. Umm, are you going to report what you did to the police?”

  I shook my head. “What? No. God knows how long they’d question us.” We couldn’t afford to be held up at the station. I gave him a hard look. “It’s not like I murdered them or anything. They were already dead. You get that, right?”

  He refused to look at me.

  Crap. He didn’t actually think I killed our friends in cold blood, did he?

  “Reed, look at me.”

  He glanced at my face. The torment in his bloodshot gaze shredded me.

  “They were zombies.”

  “Maybe they could be cured. The CDC woman on the news said—”

  I huffed. “There is no curing death. Tell me you don’t believe that rabies crap? They are trying to cover their asses.”

  “I don’t know if I believe—Oh, hell.” Reed slammed on the brakes.

  I shot forward. Peeling myself off the dash, I gave him a dark look.

  His wide-eyed gaze was focused on the closed liquor store Duncan had parked at last night.

  In front of the store, a man was pinned to the ground by a ragtag-looking group of men and women.

  The man screamed and tried to beat them off. Flesh tore. Blood spurted.

  At the sight of the man’s internal organs spilling out, bile clawed its way up my throat. “Oh my God. They’re eating him alive.”

  Reed flashed me a frantic look. “We have to help him.” He fumbled with his seat belt.