Deadrise 2: Deadwar (19 page)

Rainbow Lake UT

8:45 PM

Fresh snow had fallen earlier that evening, and now the night sky was crisp and clear, sparkling with stars while the full moon cast its cold glow down on the earth below.

Wendy Lake gave one last, long stare up at the moon. Tears ran freely down her face, and her long brunette hair was tangled and unkempt. Her thin frame was wrapped in a pink bathrobe. In her right hand was a bottle of whiskey, in her left hand a plastic pill bottle. She emptied the last remaining capsules into her mouth and downed them with a swallow of whiskey. She turned away from the window and dropped the pill bottle and whiskey to the floor. She could feel the pills already starting to take effect. It wouldn’t be long before she slipped into unconsciousness and then death.

After Olaf’s death, life in this strange new world had simply become too much for Wendy. Even taking care of the boys had become and arduous chore. The Doctor only prescribed her minimal sleeping pills, and they did little to ease her anxiety or lessen her suffering. Before long, she had turned to the freebooters. She had little to offer but her body, but that turned out to be good enough. Half a dozen blowjobs a week bought her all the Valium and whiskey she needed.

But it was only a few weeks before even that didn’t numb her pain enough. And she knew the only way it would ever truly end was in death. So she had made up her mind to kill herself. She began stockpiling her Valium, taking only half her usual dose, until she had a cache of twenty pills. Combined with alcohol, it was certain to kill her. But she would not be going alone.

She stood over the bed shared by the boys. Roy and Peter were both sleeping. She had seen to that, slipping each of them a Valium with their supper, telling them it was a vitamin. They had been so excited about the Halloween party Sharon Young had organized for this evening. The children of the community would don costumes and go around to the various rooms of the Main House, where they would be given a candy treat.

A heavy fog was settling into her brain, numbing her extremities. For a moment Wendy thought she would lose her balance, but she took several deep breaths to try and clear her mind. She still had one last thing to do before she let the darkness claim her.

Grabbing a pillow from the bed she placed it across Roy’s face. He was twelve years old, so it was better to do him first, lest he wake up while she smothered Peter. She pushed down with all of her weight, pinning the pillow to the mattress on either side of Roy’s head. He began to struggle, bucking and thrashing beneath her, so she straddled him, holding him down to the bed.

“Don’t fight baby,” she cried softly. “Daddy’s waiting for you. Mommy will be with you soon.” Roy’s struggles became more erratic, more frantic, before they suddenly ceased. But Wendy did not get up. She held the pillow over Roy’s face an additional minute, quite possibly the longest minute of her life as the pills were kicking in heavy now. When she finally climbed off Roy everything seemed to be moving in slow motion. She pulled the pillow off his face, which was contorted in a grimace of pain.

“Mommy?” It was Peter, lying in bed beside his dead brother. Roy’s thrashing had woken him. He gave his mother a confused, frightened look.

“It’s ok baby.” Wendy whispered, falling atop her seven-year-old son and covering his face with the pillow. He barely put up a struggle, which was well enough because Wendy could do little more than lay atop him, her body weight the only thing pressing the pillow into the boys face.

“Mommy loves you baby,” she whispered after his small frame had finally gone still. She tried to sit up, but only managed to fall off the side of the bed, cracking her face on the floor. She was too numbed by the pills to feel anything, and with her last bit of energy rolled herself onto her back. Blood streamed into her eyes, blinding her, which was well enough, as she didn’t have to see the corpses of her two boys reanimate. She was still alive when they climbed off the bed and began to devour her, instinctively tearing open her stomach to get at the coils of intestines within…

“Trick or treat!” the chorus of children cried out as they stood before the third floor bedroom door. After several seconds there was no answer. A few looked back to the group of parents that stood back near the stairwell, unsure of what to do. One of the kids knocked on the door and in joyous unison they all cried “Trick or treat!” This time there was a shuffling at the door. The knob wriggled as someone on the other side began to turn it. The excited anticipation on the children’s faces turned to shocked horror when the door opened to reveal Wendy Lake, now a zombie, with her stomach torn wide open and long bloody ropes of her intestines dragging about her feet. Behind her were the zombies of her two children, their dead eyes widening with excitement at the sight of fresh, live flesh. All three zombies pushed through the doorway at once, arms outstretched. The costumed children let out screams of fright, trying to flee to their parents.

The adult zombie tackled a small girl, Tammy Wilcox, age six, biting into the back of her neck as they hit the ground with bone crunching force. The child zombies joined her, biting the girl’s legs and thighs.

“Tammy!” Betty Wilcox screamed hysterically at the top of her lungs, frozen in place as she watched the three zombies begin to devour her daughter. The third floor landing became a screaming mass of chaos and confusion as delirious children and parents sought to find one another and escape the three zombies.

A pair of armed Militiamen finally appeared, and within seconds shot all three zombies dead. But they were too late to save little Tammy Wilcox. Her back had been broken when the zombie had first tackled her, and her carotid artery had been bitten out and she had bled to death before the zombies had been killed…

CHAPTER 23

Thursday November 22, 2001

Rainbow Lake UT

6:00 PM

Thanksgiving Day was a dour, dreary day. The snow had been falling steadily for two days, and the sharp wind drove the temperature well below freezing. The only people to be found out of doors were the Militia, and even they stayed huddled in their checkpoints, venturing out only for mandatory patrols. Never the less, most of the occupied households around Rainbow Lake had a Thanksgiving feast. The bounty from Evanston and Green River was more than enough to keep the community fed for over a year. The surrounding mountain range had also provided a good supply of deer, elk and fish. Even the farms of Kittewa yielded some harvest by way of livestock numbering into the hundreds.

In the Main House, Matt and Susan stood up during dinner and called for everyone’s attention. The dining room table was meant to serve twenty comfortably; right now it seated almost thirty. After a few moments, everyone fell silent. Matt and Susan looked at one another and smiled. It was Susan who spoke.

“I’m pregnant.” This didn’t come as a surprise to most of those gathered. Susan quickly surmised it was the worst kept secret in the community. The only people they had told were her mother, David and Samantha. How could the rest of the community know?

“How far along?” Patty asked with a smile across her face.

“About three months. I haven’t really begun to show yet, and I’ve been wearing baggy clothes for the past couple of weeks.”

“Why did you feel the need to keep it a secret?”

“I don’t know. I didn’t want it to interfere with what had to be done. I have a lot of responsibility, and people might start thinking I couldn’t handle it.” She looked right at Jenkins when she said this. “And I don’t want any of you to think I can’t. I will do what is required of me up until Doc Reilly orders me to stop.” She looked around the table, meeting each and every Council member’s eyes. “That is all I have to say.” She smiled at Matt once again and they both sat back down.

“I have something to say.” Jenkins rose to his feet. Now all eyes were on him. “First off, let me say congratulations to Matt and Susan.” He nodded to both of them before turning back to survey the entire room. “Well, we survived. The world collapsed around us, and we banded together and made a place for ourselves. It wasn’t easy. We all lost loved ones along the way. Hard decisions were made, maybe sometimes the wrong decisions…yet through it all we have managed to retain our sanity, our civility and our humanity. Each and every one of us here in Rainbow Lake or at Mountain View should be proud of ourselves. Humankind faces extinction, and we have all risen to the occasion. We have laid down the groundwork for the rebirth of human civilization, but the struggle is not over. It has only just begun. Winter may have given us a reprieve from the advancing hordes of deadfuck’s, but they are still out there, as are the superzombies and their alien masters. Come spring thaw, when the snow melts and the passes open back up, the war continues. The Krylok will not stop until they have bled this world of the last human being. We must be forever vigilant. Forever taking the fight to the enemy before they come for us!” Jenkins voice had risen until he was almost shouting. As he paused to take a breath a round of applause had began, each and every person present in the dining room joining in the clapping. When it finally died down Jenkins continued to speak.

“I know I have rubbed a lot of people the wrong way with my methods. But I make no apologies. I do what I do for all of us. I ask nothing of anyone that I would not ask of myself.” He paused to scan the table, deliberately making eye contact with Lucas Casey, Guy Hammonds and even down at Patty who sat at his side. “If anyone of you has any doubts as to my intentions, or my loyalty to this community, speak them now…” Jenkins paused, giving anyone an opportunity to speak. But there was only silence. “Very well.” With that he sat down and gripped Patty’s hand. She leaned over and kissed him on the cheek, warm and affectionate. And not for the first time that day Jenkins was thankful that they were together. They had just moved in together into the apartment above the boathouse a couple of days ago, and already Jenkins had grown accustomed to waking up with Patty in bed next to him. And he would do everything in his power to see that he would be waking up in bed beside her for years to come.

“What are you thinking about?” Patty asked.

“All the things I’m thankful for.” he said, his smile genuine as he leaned over and kissed her…

Private Donald Wilcox stood over the grave of his daughter, Tammy, oblivious to the thick falling snow or the freezing temperature. After her death, he had suffered a nervous breakdown and Captain Turner had taken him off active duty and put him on medical leave. His wife Betty, and their remaining daughter, six-year-old Tonya, had also been devastated, but RDonald had been unable to comfort them, so swallowed had he been by his own grief. Doc Reilly had even hospitalized him for forty-eight hours. After a week, he reconciled with Betty and Tonya, but he still had an empty hole inside his heart.

He had hoped that his love for his wife and daughter would be enough to overcome the pain of his loss, but day-by-day it had only grown worse. Whiskey, weed, not even heroin could take away the pain. He had woken this morning, his mind made up on what he needed to do. Sharon Young had invited them to the feast at the Main House, and he insisted that Betty take Tonya.

As for him?

He told her he was going to hang around the barracks tonight. It was about time he got back into the swing of things. Betty hadn’t been too happy about it, but seeing as he looked to be getting back to his old self, she acquiesced.

It had been a lie, of course. Oh, he did go by the barracks to see some of the guys, but he had no intention of staying there all evening. After a couple of hours, he had slipped out and made his way in the semi-blizzard around the lake to the cemetery, and his daughter’s gravesite within.

“Daddy’s so sorry baby… He wasn’t there to protect you.”

That’s all right Daddy. I love you.
He could hear her soft, angelic voice over the howling wind.

“Daddy loves you too baby.” Despite the icy coldness permeating his body and soul, enough emotion still burned within him to bring hot tears to his eyes. Blinking them away before they froze his eyes closed, his pulled a .357 Magnum from a holster on his hip. Closing his eyes, he said a silent prayer for his daughter’s soul as well as his own, making the sign of the cross with the pistol. Then he gently kissed the cylinder before cocking the revolver. Opening his eyes he placed the barrel in his mouth. He took one final deep breath, closed his eyes and pulled the trigger. There was a muffled retort as the better part of his brain was blown through the top of his skull. His body collapsed to the snow packed ground, settling in a tangled heap atop his daughter’s headstone and as his hot blood leaked out across the cold white snow a vapor of steam rose, ascending through the falling snow like a ghostly apparition. Perhaps it was the soul of Private Donald Wilcox, free from the pain of life, and thanks to his own hand, free from the damnation of becoming one of the walking dead…

CHAPTER 24

Sunday March 3, 2002

High Earth Orbit

No matter how many times Zack viewed the curve of the earth from space, he was still as awestruck as the very first time.

The bright blue ball shrouded in swirling clouds radiated such a powerful aura of primal energy that he felt as insignificant as a grain of sand, an intensely humbling experience to be sure, but one that also helped keep what remained of his humanity intact. The
hunger
was always there, that was something he had come to grips with, but it was no longer an all-consuming inferno that gripped him like madness. As long as he fed once or twice a week, the
hunger
remained a low, steady burn that he was almost able to ignore. His control over the hunger was just one of several new aspects of his enhanced metabolism. His green and black mottled skin had grown thicker and more resilient, causing most physical blows to bounce off harmlessly. Increased healing had been among the first of his powers to manifest, but now it was such that a severed limb would regenerate within twelve hours. Not even a bullet to the head would kill him; His entire brain would literally have to be destroyed to kill him. Anything less and he would eventually regenerate. His reptilian skin was coated with a thin layer of slime that made him frictionless in water, his limbs multi-jointed and tipped in poisonous, razor-sharp talons. His eyes could see in night, thermal or binocular vision, his hearing as sharp as a wolves and his nose as sensitive as a bloodhounds. He was a perfect predator, a killer without peer on the entire planet. The price was the constant battle for his humanity and soul.