Deadrise 2: Deadwar (33 page)

“I’m not so sure I agree.” Sheriff Busley said. “My wife…well she’s pretty fragile right now. I don’t think she would be up for the trip.” His wife had fallen ill over the winter and although she had pulled through the sickness had left her…depleted.

“She’ll make it, Ross. Norma is a tough old bird. ” Jenkins tried to reassure the Sheriff. “Doc?”

“I think we can prep her well enough for the flight, Sheriff.” Doc Norris said, following Jenkins lead. “I’ll fly over with her myself if need be.”

“And she won’t come until the island is completely secure.” Jenkins said. He looked to Patty. “What do you think?”

“Its risky. We don’t have any idea how many zombies are on that island, let alone other human outposts.”

“The islands dead, Patty. Look at the videos. Nothing but zombies.”

“Approximately two to five thousand of them.” David piped over the intercom.

“Two to five thousand…” Patty repeated.

“That’s not nearly as bad as it sounds. The island is a little over five miles long. They are pretty spread out. It shouldn’t be any worse than Evanston or Green River. This is our chance to finally, truly be safe for a while. Just think about it, our own tropical paradise, zombie-free. And end to the nightmare, at least for a while. We can start over…rebuild… Maybe even try things your way…”

“How can I say no to that?” Patty said with a smile.

After the evacuation was discussed, talk inevitably turned to Colonel McReedy and Guy Livingston. Patty spearheaded the plea for leniency, arguing that Mac had been brainwashed and was not responsible for his actions and as for Guy Livingston?

“Look, Patty, we’ve been over this before. He’s a traitor.” Jenkins said. “So long as he’s alive Mordecai will always have a spy among us. He dies. Mac too. They both betrayed us. Brainwashed or not, the Mac we knew is gone, controlled by Mordecai. Even without a chip he was manipulated into turning against us. They are both compromised.”

“But that doesn’t mean we have to kill them. We can isolate them, keep them under guard.”

Jenkins laughed at her. “Put them in prison? So much for your new way.” He laughed again but the other Council members just stared at him.

He needed a drink…

CHAPTER 51

Tuesday, July 2, 2002

Rainbow Lake, UT

7:03 AM

Today was the hangings. A gallows had been constructed over the past couple of days on the back yard of the Main House. It would not be moved. The hangings were going to be public for all too see.

Patty Marshall sat in her office, sickened by it. Public hangings! What would be accomplished by such a display other than terrorizing the people into submission?

It was true that Mac and Guy had betrayed the community and murdered several people. But did that mean the justice was to be equally barbaric? Capital punishment in general was a barbaric form of justice and hanging in particular one of the more inhumane methods. Patty refused to take part in it. She would not attend and she had urged the other Council members, and as many civilians as possible to join her in her boycott. It would send a message to the General that the path he had chosen would not be tolerated.

He had gone mad with power and was on the verge of subjugating the Rainbow Lake community to his insane tyranny. She had known for some time that he was struggling under the enormous responsibilities he carried, perhaps she had even seen some signs of cracks, but what was she to do? She too carried great responsibilities and sometimes she could barely manage her own burden. But there was still hope. At the Council meeting he had suggested that he would relinquish his unilateral authority and try a new way of doing things. And she was very excited by his plan to relocate to the island. As he had said it was remote, isolated, food was naturally abundant. Once it was cleared of zombies they would truly be safe. A tropical paradise to build a new society. A society where things such as crime and capital punishment didn’t even exist. If ever there was a cause that stirred the activist inside her, this was it.

Although Patty would not participate in the spectacle of the hangings, she decided to pay the condemned prisoners one last visit. They had been transferred to the Main House and were being held in holding cells located in the basement. But before she went she needed something to bolster her courage and resolve. She picked up her cup and drained what remained, grimacing as the vodka laced coffee scorched its way down to her belly. There. That hit the spot. Now she could face the prisoners.

She exited her office, located on the first floor of the Main House, as were all the Council members offices, and walked down the hall into the foyer. Reconstruction of the foyer and kitchen had begun, but it was still a cluttered mess of plywood, sheetrock and carpentry tools. The stairs were at the back of the kitchen, and guarded by a pair of Militiamen. They let her pass of course, but radioed down stairs that she was on her way. Patty admired the efficiency of the Militia. Jenkins had polished them into a well-oiled machine. Even with the recent casualties, their morale had stayed high and their loyalty to their General never wavered.

At the base of the stairs was another guard and he waved her ahead. At the back of the basement two storage rooms had been converted into holding cells. The doors had been reinforced with heavy locks and small windows covered with sliding steel doors had been cut in the center of each. Her heart was hammering in her chest and her hands were shaking. She needed a drink.

She stopped in front of the first door. Guy Livingston sat in this cell. She had known Guy for several years. Like her, he had been one of the pillars of town politics before the deadrise. He had always been quiet and mousy and cynical…almost cowardly. To think that had all been a disguise for a cold blooded assassin. She took one more deep breath and slid the cover away from the window. Guy Livingston lay on his cot, staring at the ceiling. His left arm had been amputated just below the shoulder and his left leg just above the knee. He turned to look at her, his face a mask of self-pity and misery.

“Patty…” he said, his voice pathetic and pleading. “What is happening?”

“Your to be executed. You are a murderer and a traitor.” She couldn’t believe the words coming out of her own mouth.

“But what did I do?” he asked.

“You really don’t know, Guy?” she asked.

“No. The last thing I remember was going to sleep. When I woke up, David was standing over me, pointing his rifle in my face.”

She had heard this from him before. And like before, she wanted to believe him. But there was no denying what he had done. He was an agent of Mordecai Necrotura. And try as she might to deny it, he deserved to die for what he had done.

“I’m sorry.” She said. Before she slid the cover closed, she saw him begin to weep. She felt her own tears coming and she turned away, fighting to hold them back. She hurried away, unable to even look in on Mac. Shame flushed her face as she hurried past the guards back up stairs to her office. She needed a drink, now more than ever…

Despite Patty’s campaigning most of Rainbow Lake citizens had assembled on the back lawn of the Main House at noon to observe the hangings. As for the Council members, all but Patty were there as well. Guy Livingston was brought out in a wheel chair, his one arm and leg cuffed to the chairs frame, his face a sniveling mess. While Mac was able to walk on his own two feet, though his broken ribs made it difficult. Jenkins had ordered the Doc to dope them up real good before they were to be killed, to help keep them calm. They were marched up the steps of the gallows stood over the trap door that ran the length of the floor. Jenkins stood before them, looking at each man.

“I take no pleasure in this. You both were members of the Council, and Colonel McReedy, Mac… You were my dear friend. But both of you have betrayed this community and murdered your fellow citizens and Militiamen. There can be only one punishment for your crimes. May God have mercy on their souls.”

Guy Livingston began sobbing anew, pathetically pleading for his life. The guards placed a black hood over each of their heads followed a heavy noose placed around each mans neck.

Jenkins watched as the guards prepared them for death his face set in a mask of grim resolve. Once the nooses were secure and the guards had stepped away from the trapdoor Jenkins walked over to the lever that controlled the trapdoor and swept his gaze across the crowd one final time before pulling the lever. The trapdoor opened beneath the condemned men’s feet and they dropped two feet before the slack of the rope grew taut and both men's neck’s snapped with an audible
crack.
The crowd let out a gasp, as if they had expected the General to grant clemency at the last moment.

Jenkins let the bodies swing for a few minutes to make sure they were dead. They he held out his hand and one of the guards handed him a cordless drill. He stepped behind Mac’s swinging body and placed the drill bit to the left of the noose at the base of Mac’s skull and pulled the trigger, drilling into his skull and scrambling his brains, making sure he would not reanimate as a zombie. He withdrew the drill and stepped over to Guy Livingston’s swinging corpse and repeated the process. When he was finished he tossed the drill aside and looked to the crowd.

“Let this be a lesson to everyone. Remember what happened here. This scum betrayed all of you. They murdered our people. If we are to remain civilized, we must never tolerate such crimes. They were lucky they got off so easy for what they did. They should have been sentenced to reanimate as a zombie, weighted down and tossed into the center of the lake. But because we are civilized, they were shown mercy…”

CHAPTER 52

Sunday, July 7, 2002

Rainbow Lake, UT

6:33 PM

Patty's mind was seething as she walked along the shore of Rainbow Lake. She couldn’t believe she had ever loved Jenkins because now she completely and utterly despised the man. His power had driven him insane. He had shown himself to be a fascist tyrant, a murderer and an egomaniacal psychopath; everything Patty had dedicated her life to fighting the past decade as an activist.

He was going to forcibly relocate the entire community to an island somewhere in the south pacific. He claimed it wasn’t forced, but what other option was there? Stay and be killed by encroaching superzombies? And his plan to get them there, which he had dubbed The Executive Plan, was as hare-brained and begging for disaster. Instead of relocating everyone, he was going to get them all killed.

He had hinted at relinquishing his dictatorial powers and trying things her way, once they were relocated and settled in of courser, but she couldn’t believe him. He was blind drunk with power, glory and whiskey. Paranoia had taken hold in his mind; she could see it gnawing at his thoughts as he interacted with other people.

He had to die.

There was simply no other way around it… For the good of the Rainbow Lake community, General Jenkins had to die. She dared not clue anyone else of her plan. She would do it herself, something she’d known as soon as she made the decision. She had spent the past couple of days formulating her plan and in the end it was rather simple. She would go to him tonight, pretending reconciliation, and when his guard was lowered, she would pull out a gun and shoot him dead then throw her gun away and wait for them to arrest her. She alone would take the blame for the Generals death. She would say that he’d been drunk and angry, attacking her. He had so devolved into drunken madness that even his closest supporters would believe her account of things. Captain Turner or Commander King may attempt to assume command in the chaos, but they lacked the General’s charisma. Neither would be able to inspire or rally the already battered and weakened militia, some of whom were among her secret network. And she had grown immensely popular among the civilians of Rainbow Lake since the General had assumed total control. If she were not killed by the militia she had no doubt her supporters would rally for her freedom. Those followers could also put tremendous pressure on their family members in the Militia to defend and support her. It was an all or nothing gamble. Either she would be killed, or she would assume even greater control over the Community.

Of the Council? David would be angry that the General was dead, but he was just a kid, not even seventeen. He would do exactly what she wanted. Doc Norris wouldn’t like it either, but he would fall in line. As for Sheriff Busley? He and the General had always clashed and would most likely openly rejoice at his removal from power. The only real threat from the Council was Lucas Casey. He and the General had grown to be good friends. He would fight to defend the General, or once he was removed, fight to avenge him.

Lucas Casey had to die as well.

As she had formulated the plan, she was amazed at how calmly and coldly she had decided to use lethal force on her political rivals. In her days as an activist she had never condoned the use of violence to get her message across. She realized how conceited and self-righteous she had been all those years, a bleeding heart, armchair revolutionary that yearned for change but had been too appalled by violence to actually bring about and enforce any of her beliefs.

But it had been a different world back then. A safe world where armchair revolutionaries could protest and march and pretend to themselves that they were actually helping to make the world a better place. But in the Deadly New World? It had its own rules.