Paradise Lost: Wasteland (Sons of Destruction MC Book 2) Read online

  Paradise Lost

  Sons of Destruction MC

  Wasteland

  Glenna Maynard

  © 2019 Glenna Maynard Paradise Lost

  This is a work of fiction. Names characters, places and incidents either are the product of the author’s imagination or used fictitiously and any resemblance to actual people, alive or dead, business, establishments, locals or events is entirely coincidental. Any reference to real events, business, organizations or locals is intended only to give the fiction a sense of realism and authenticity. All rights reserved. No part of this publication may be reproduced, stored in a retrieval system, or transmitted by any means – electronic, mechanical, photographic (photocopying), recording, or otherwise – without prior permission in writing from the author.

  The author acknowledges the copyrighted or trademarked status and trademark owners of the word marks mentioned in this work of fiction.

  Contents

  Blurb

  Dedication

  Chapter 1

  Chapter 2

  Chapter 3

  Chapter 4

  Chapter 5

  Chapter 6

  Chapter 7

  Chapter 8

  Chapter 9

  Chapter 10

  Chapter 11

  Chapter 12

  Acknowledgements

  About Glenna

  Available Now

  Paradise Lost

  The end of the world as we know it is upon us. Arriving in Paradise was supposed to be our saving grace, but Asher and I escaped one hell to be trapped within another. The infection is spreading and mutating, wiping out those we cherish. It’s up to us to find the cure and put an end to the undead nightmare we are living in. Left with more questions than answers, our time is running out. Can I save the man I love before it is too late, or will we succumb to the wasteland?

  This story picks up where book 1 left off but is told in multiple POV from Asher, Prissy, Stitch, and Lana.

  Dedication

  To never losing our humanity and to finding love when we least expect it.

  Chapter 1

  —Stitch

  One year ago

  “Mmm. Yeah, suck that dick. Fuck.” I fist Suga Lip’s pink hair and give it a yank. “You like that, don’t ya? Love my big dick sliding between your lips.” She looks up at me through her fake lashes and moans around the head of my cock as I feed it further into her mouth. She’s not my usual fuck, Tanya, but she will suffice. Sometimes pickins’ at the Sons of Destruction clubhouse get slim when all the members are at the compound. I was late to the party, so I got stuck with Suga. She’s what we call a butter face. Everything looks good but her face. The bitch isn’t much to look at, but she can suck a dick and makes me come fast.

  “Ouch. Shit. Watch it.” I pull her head back as her teeth dig into my cock. “The fuck?” Sweat beads pop up across her forehead like connect the dots. I jerk back and let go of her hair as her eyes roll back in her head. “You feeling okay? How much shit did you snort?” Goddamn. I blink and turn on the lamp as I shield my dick from her mouth with a pillow. Her head lolls to the side and she drops sideways. “Shit!” I hiss. Just my fucking luck. I get the bitch that snorts or shoots too much bad shit. I warned her about taking party favors from that punk, Cracker. That fuck face is the biggest crack dealer in the tri-state area. Lately though he’s been selling some bad shit that’s killing people.

  I get up off the bed and pull my jeans up. My dick is limp now anyway. Rubbing my jaw, I wonder what Prez will want me to do with the dead bitch? White foam is coming out of the corners of her mouth. Overdose. Typical. Barefoot, I stomp across the cold wooden floor and grab a plain white t-shirt from a dresser drawer. Guess I should roll her up in a blanket or some shit. Her eyes are still open and it’s freaking me out. It is as though the dead bitch is staring at me as I pull my shirt down, but I know that isn’t possible. Her chest isn’t moving. At least I don’t think that it is. I squat down and grab the cover off the bed to wrap her up in until I figure out what in the hell to do with the body. Last thing I need is the cops coming in and finding all the illegal guns I have in my possession. I suppose I could claim I woke up and found her dead after I move my stash. “Fuck,” I whisper to myself. I’m in a bad spot here.

  Maneuvering the blanket on the floor next to her body, I’m on all fours when I swear to fuck her eyes follow me. I’m losing my Goddamn mind. Maybe she slipped me some of that shit she was taking because I feel fucking crazy right now. All paranoid and shit. Sliding my arms underneath her body, I go to roll her onto the blanket when her mouth opens, and she lunges at me. Quickly, I scramble backwards in a crab crawl and fall on my ass. My head knocks against the nightstand and the lamp falls forward into my lap. I wrap both hands around the slender body of the light fixture and wield it as she comes for me like a rabid animal. Bitch grabs my ankles and pulls me toward her. I have no choice but to swing the base of the lamp and nail her in the face with it. Her head whips to the side as she growls at me like a feral dog and snaps her teeth at me. I hit her repeatedly, bludgeoning her with the cheap metal until her eyeball pops out.

  I take one look at the bitch and hit her one more time for good measure and run downstairs to the bar of the clubhouse as chaos erupts. Tanya is running down the hallway screaming. Blood is splattered on her naked chest. I grab her arms and start to ask her what happened when she drops to the floor and starts convulsing. Blade steps out from behind the bar with a rifle and puts a hole in her head. He hands me a pistol and I give him a nod. Right now it seems the world has gone mad and it’s kill or be killed.

  I can still feel that cunt’s teeth on my dick and pray to God if there is a God to be prayed to that my pride and joy doesn’t rot off. I shift my cock in my jeans and hope she didn’t draw blood.

  —–

  Present Day

  I don’t know why Prez keeps sending me on these missions. If Ash and Priscilla are out here somewhere, they are far from here. I’ve been going out scouting for months and every time I come home, I bring back the same answer. Sorry, Blade, no sign of either of them. Priscilla is Blade’s daughter, the princess of our motorcycle club, Sons of Destruction. Asher is one of my brothers. He was sent to bring our girl home when this fucking outbreak started. That was a year ago and the world has literally gone to hell in a handbasket. The living become infected and when they should be dead, they aren’t. They roam the world destroying everything and everyone in their path. Fucking Z’s. That’s short for fucking zombies. That’s what we call the undead. It’s like all the horror comics I read as a child have come to life. Every scary thing I ever dreamt of is real. The monsters I would read about as I camped in my closet with a blanket and flashlight well past bedtime do exist.

  Getting out of my truck, I lock it, not taking any chances of it being stolen. If my truck gets taken, I’m fucked. It has all my supplies and my survival depends on them. I haven’t seen a living soul in a week. I avoid both the living and undead if I can help it.

  I brought home a stray once and it nearly got us all killed. There was this boy. He was just walking down this dirt road all alone. He seemed scared, lost, and alone. Took him back to Paradise only to have his cunt of a father follow us. Bastard was infected and took out two of my brothers. That little boy got scared and ran off into the woods. A better man would have gone in after him, but if there is anything I ever learned from my comics and scary movies, it’s that you don’t go into the creepy ass fucking woods. I don’t know what became of him, but the guilt eats at me.

  Now though I keep to myself. I don’t need or want
to go through that bullshit again. These fucking things are smart. I know because I have seen it with my own eyes in my Prez, Blade. He started showing the signs that he was going to turn. The stomach cramps and fever. We tied him to a chair even though he begged us to kill him before he became a Z. For days we watched as the blisters formed and oozed but he never turned. He’s dying a slow death, but he is still himself. Fucker barely has a pulse. I don’t understand it. He’s the exception to the rule. I’ve not encountered anything like him during my travels.

  The front door to the gas station is busted out. I doubt there is anything here worth taking but it never hurts to check. People overlook things all the time or die before they can make the grab. Like motor oil. I toss a few bottles in my pack along with some lighters that have been forgotten. Lucky for me. I grab some other odds and ends then get out. I’m halfway to the truck when I hear the eerie moan. Fuck. I need to do this quietly, so I don’t attract more of them. I unsheathe my knife I keep strapped to my back and wait. I can see the brain sucking asshole in the reflection of the shop window across the street. He’s slow, dragging a lame leg as he moves toward me hoping for a little snack. He’s been around the way. Missing half of his right arm and an eyeball. His shirt is frayed and full of holes. Whoever went up against him must not know the most important rule in surviving the apocalypse, shoot to kill, and always fucking double tap the bastards if you don’t blow them to kingdom come the first time. I prefer my cool steel. It’s quiet and efficient with serrated edges. Good for cutting through muscle. Was intended for hunting but works just as good for taking out a Z. Dropping my pack, I prepare for the impact of this fucker trying to attack from behind. Just as he reaches out for me, I spin around and kick his legs out from under him. He goes down easily. He’s weak. That’s the thing about zombies, they come in all different shapes and sizes. Just like people they are all unique in their own way. I cut off his other hand and break his other kneecap. Grimy teeth keep snapping at me, but the bastard won’t get far on broken limbs and no hands. I should kill him and put him out of his misery but part of me wonders how long it would take one of these things to starve to death or if they even can. I’ll check on him on my way back through.

  I still have further to go. This is my last run to look for Priscilla and Asher. I keep seeing signs posted around here that point to a place called Salvation. I hop in my truck and start following the signs. This is either a wise choice or the stupidest thing I have done yet. Which one remains to be seen. Guess I will find out if I reach Salvation.

  Chapter 2

  —Lana

  One Year Ago

  “Only you’d find going to the graveyard on Valentine’s Day romantic,” Abby says, as she sinks down on my bed and I take a seat on the floor below while she does my hair.

  Shrugging my right shoulder, I roll my eyes. “Brad knows how long I’ve been wanting to check out this graveyard. There is potential for some really old etchings.” By etchings I mean grave etching. It’s sort of my passion.

  “Most girls like getting their nails done or going to the mall,” she gripes as she runs a brush through my blonde hair.

  “Yeah well, I’m not most girls.”

  “I know. It’s why I love you. Besides, someone has to appreciate your weirdness.”

  I let out a sigh. “You don’t have to come,” I remind her.

  “Pfft. What else am I going to do? Besides it isn’t like you are going to give it up to him tonight.” Her fingers move through my hair twisting the strands around the curling iron.

  I frown. “I’m saving myself for marriage. I promised my Gigi.” My Gigi is my grandma. My Mom moved us back here when her and Dad split so she could take care of her. I miss her terribly. We lost her two years ago. I was supposed to go back to California and live with my Dad while I attend college (I sort of tested out of high school already. I’m a bit of what they call a prodigy.) but then my Mom started getting sick and I couldn’t bring myself to leave her. Then Dad and my brother Lenny came home, and my parents reconciled. People say there is something wrong with the water here. There was a sludge spill from the local coal mines about twenty years ago. They say the drinking water wasn’t affected but tell that to all the folks around here dying of cancer.

  “Gigi should understand, you’re almost sixteen years old. You need to live.”

  “Now you sound as bad as Brad.” I pull away from her not wanting to have this debate with my best friend too. I get enough grief from my boyfriend. The only person who never gives me a hard time is my sister but she’s babysitting tonight. I get up and go to my vanity. I spray my hair with this stuff that is supposed to set my curls. Then I apply some mascara and rub lip balm over my lips. I can see Abby’s reflection in the mirror; she’s on her phone texting furiously.

  “There’s a party tonight at the old strip job,” she announces with a big grin.

  “Oh yeah.”

  “Brad just sent a text.” She looks away with a guilty expression. “It’s just he wants to go but doesn’t want you to get mad. He thought maybe if I asked that you’d say yes.” Her smile returns.

  “Yeah sure. It’s whatever. I’ll go to the cemetery tomorrow alone. That way I don’t have to listen to you and Brad bitch while I explore.” I put on a fake smile even though deep down I am hurt that my boyfriend felt more comfortable voicing his wants and needs with my bestie than he did me. My stomach sours and suddenly I don’t feel much like going anywhere tonight.

  Maybe they should go to the party. I should probably stay here with my Mom. Lenny is staying over at Cody’s. They are playing Dungeons and Dragons or something. Our Dad is at work. He’s been picking up extra shifts at the coal mines as a security officer.

  “Oh no. I know that look, Lana, you aren’t getting out of going just because the plans changed. You know your Mom will be fine. She has been doing great on that new drug.”

  I frown. I know Abby means well, but she doesn’t have a sick parent with no one to look after them. But then there is Brad. I brush him off all the time for Mom and school. I should be excited to see him tonight but I’m honestly not that into our relationship these days. My mind is too focused on other stuff. Like making sure my mother is eating and taking her medication on time and that I am keeping my grades up in my online courses, so I don’t lose my financial aid that I receive for the private college I am supposed to start next fall. I’ve been with Brad since my sixth-grade year of middle school. Sometimes I am afraid I have outgrown the relationship. I guess I have stayed in the relationship because it simply felt like I should. My heart sinks. It’s Valentine’s Day. The day of love and I am realizing that I’m not in love with my boyfriend. I mean sure I love him, but I’m not in love with him as I should be. I don’t feel that all consuming passion.

  “Hey.” Abby touches her hand to my shoulder. “Are you okay? You look like you ate something bad.”

  I shoot her a weak smile through the mirror. “I’m fine,” I lie. I am so far from fine.

  I check in on my Mom two times before we leave for this stupid party. I don’t get what the appeal of standing around a fire in the cold and getting wasted is. I like to be in control of my actions. Abby though…that girl will try anything once. I guess it is why we balance each other out. We are the perfect example of opposites attracting. She’s wild, ambitious, outgoing, and not to mention beautiful. Me? I just survive from one day to the next happy to have another day with my Mom.

  I get in the driver’s side of my Malibu, it was my Gigi’s. I inherited it when she died. It’s been a decent car. It may not be as fancy as some of the other people I went to school with got when they turned sixteen and for graduation, but I like driving my Gigi’s car. It makes me feel close to her. I’m not technically supposed to be driving yet but I haven’t gotten caught yet. I pull up at Brad’s and blow the horn.

  There is no way he is driving tonight. I know if he drives, I can’t leave when I want to, and I don’t want to be stuck out in the cold all nigh
t at this stupid party. It wouldn’t be the first time. Brad likes to drink and smoke a little weed on occasion, but he gets stupid at these parties. I don’t know why I am agreeing to this. I should probably breakup with the guy, but I’d feel like a jerk doing it on Valentine’s Day.

  Brad slides in the backseat of the car, leaning up between the seats to give me a kiss on the cheek before he buckles his seatbelt. “You smell good,” he growls in my ear and my stomach flip flops in a bad way, not in the he gives me butterflies way. I’m a terrible person.

  “Thanks,” I reply and back out of his driveway. We have to go through our small town to get to the old mining site. I live in one of the poorest towns in the nation. We only have one street and Friday night high school football is a religion. As I turn onto Highway 645 to get on Coldwater Road, we pass two ambulances, three police cars, and a firetruck.

  “Whoa,” Abby says, twisting in her seat to watch the procession of rescue vehicles.

  “Probably a wreck or something.” I shrug and watch for the traffic light to change.

  Brad pops the tab on his can of beer and starts chugging. I roll my eyes but keep my mouth shut. I really don’t want to fight with him tonight, but it is like everything he does now is grating on my every nerve. I am having a hard time finding anything I like about him right now. It is like I have had an epiphany or something. Brad and I made sense in junior high but now we have grown apart and I know I need to tell him. Just not tonight. But tomorrow I will be braver.

  Sympathy for The Devil starts to play through the speakers and Brad yells for us to turn it up. Abby does as he wishes, and I try to forget that I don’t want to be here tonight and that before Brad was my boyfriend, he was my friend.