Deadrise. - Deadrise. Part 17
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Deadrise. Part 17

"He's going to make it." Susan said sharply, glaring at Jenkins. Jenkins would have argued with her but something near the window caught his eye. He stepped past Susan to the window and bent down to examine something.

"Slime," Jenkins said. "Just like at the grocery store."

"Those bodies that we found tied up with their brains sucked out," Ron said. "There were slime tracks all around them."

"There isn't as much slime here, but it sure looks the same." Jenkins said. He touched some to his finger and sniffed, his face went sour. "Smells the same too."

"Whatever kind of zombie got those prisoners in the store was in this room with Zack." Ron said.

"Mac said it was climbing out the window when he saw it. It had been in here and was leaving. Why didn't it kill Zack?" Matt asked.

"The dog started barking before Rick come pounding on my door. Maybe the dog scared it away?" Ron said.

"Running for its life?" Jenkins didn't sound convinced.

"Maybe it had eaten somewhere else and was already full?" Susan said. "But it came to investigate the smell of blood anyway."

"Deadfucks don't get full. I saw one that had eaten so much its stomach exploded, but it still tried to feed." Jenkins retorted.

"Whatever the reason he's a lucky S-O-B." Ron said.

"I'm staying with him the rest of the night." Matt said.

"I'll sit with you." Susan gripped his hand and smiled at him.

They gathered some towels and hot water and cleaned Zack up as well as changed his soaking bandages. As they washed the blood from his wounds Matt was glad to see both the arm and side wound had stopped bleeding. Better yet tiny bloody bubbles no longer emerged from between Zack's ribs with each breath. They wrapped him tight to better aid his breathing and covered him with a blanket.

By 6:15 am the sun was beginning to poke its head above the eastern horizon. Matt felt a bone weary tiredness seep into him. He stretched with a loud moan to clear his head. Susan was dozing in a chair by the door. Matt opened the door to the room and saw Jenkins, Ron and Mac were already awake and making preparations to move out. Matt slung his AR-15 over his shoulder and walked outside. As he approached he could see the lack of sleep in all their eyes.

"You look like you could use some pick me up." Ron said, extending his hand. He held a little snuff bullet. "Cocaine... It'll open your eyes." Matt usually avoided hard drugs but he was exhausted and another long, dangerous day was just beginning. He had to be awake and aware for any danger. He took the bullet and tooted a small bit up each nostril. It burned like powdered glass but the effect was almost immediate. His fatigue melted away and his senses sharpened to crystal clarity.

"Thanks." He said, handing the bullet back to Ron.

"Keep it. I've got another." Ron smiled at him.

"Thanks again." Matt said. He went back in to offer some to Susan who was still dozing on the chair. To his surprise she took it with a smile of old familiarity and quickly snorted one up each nostril.

"Bennie pushed this shit the whole time I was with him."

Outside the dog could be heard barking and Matt quickly looked out, fearful of attacking zombies...but the dog was barking at his master Scotty, who held a battered blue baseball in one hand, teasing the dog with throwing it. Paranoia was another bad side effect of cocaine...

The Kimball junction exit to Park City was a heavily armored military checkpoint. 4 M1A1 Abrams tanks, 4 Humvees and two-dozen troops were permanently based here as well as constant fly-bys by a pair of UH-1 Huey gun ships. Like every other checkpoint they had come to before now an armed guard signaled for them to halt and approached the bus. Matt opened the door and the soldier, a fresh faced young kid, came aboard. One more stood outside the bus near the door and another pair moved back to the rig.

"Are any of you bit?" he asked.

"No." Matt stated. "One of our friends has been shot." "We were at the University hospital last night. We barely escaped with our lives."

The soldier moved over and inspected Zack. "Then it's true what they say? Fort Douglas has fallen?" there was an expectant look in the kid's eyes.

"It was coming down around us as we cut out the back gate." Mac said. "And it wasn't just regular deadfucks. There were plenty of superzombies as well."

"Superzombies?" the kid looked puzzled.

"It's a new kind of zombie. It can run, and drive a vehicle and shoot a gun. And the only way to stop it is blow it apart."

"Jesus Christ. Command never told us about no zombie like that. We heard rumors about them, but never nothing confirmed."

"Like I said, they are new. We only saw them for the first time a couple days ago."

Matt was growing impatient. Zack needed a doctor. "Look can we pass? Our friend needs medical attention. We have plenty to trade."

"I can see that." The young soldier said looking at the cargo packed into the back of the van. "What's in the rig's trailer?"

"Food, mostly..." Matt said.

"The whole trailer?" the soldier looked surprised.

"We got some other stuff as well."

"What kinds of stuff?"

"All kinds..." Mac said. The soldier looked at each of them suspiciously and reached for his radio.

"Binx what's in the trailer?"

"There's a forklift and cases and pallets of food. I mean hundreds of cases! Hell there's all kinds of shit back here! Look's like these people came to set up shop."

"10-4." The young soldier put his radio back on his belt and looked at each of them again. "Is that why you're here?"

"Our friend really needs a doctor." Matt was insistent.

"Here." Rick said, holding forth a carton of cigarettes. "Just to show you we're friends." The young private took it with a smile. He nodded his head at each of them.

"You're Ok to proceed. But before you enter the city you must stop at the customs station where your cargo will be assessed and taxed."

"How much?" Rick asked.

"Any cargo deemed more than personal supplies is levied a 50% tariff. If you don't wish to pay the tariff then you are free to turn around and go back down the canyon."

Fucking punk. Matt thought and reached for the CB. "Jenkins, you got a copy?"

"Talk to me."

"The guard here is telling me there's a 50% tax on all cargo that comes into the city. If we don't pay we don't pass."

"We'll pay the tax." Jenkins replied. "It's better than going back down into Salt Lake City."

"10-4." Matt said sourly and put the mic back. He looked at the soldier and nodded. "We'll pay the taxes."

"Good. The tariff station is about a mile up the highway, you can't miss it. It used to be a chain of retail clothing outlets. The loading docks and the warehouse space make it a perfect location." He turned to leave the bus and stopped before exiting. "Thanks for the cigarettes."

"My pleasure..." Rick said.

"All clean!" he called to the soldier at the roadblock.

Matt put the bus in gear and drove through the checkpoint slowly and continued up the highway towards the tariff station...

Of the half dozen sprawling buildings that were set against the base of a small mountain the tariff station used one. A regular army jeep was parked near the entrance to the parking lot and the two soldiers who manned it waved them through. A pair of UH-1 Huey gun ships soared overhead angling for Park City. Another regular jeep with a pair of soldiers came out to escort them and the passenger signaled Matt to follow. The jeep led them around the back of one of the large warehouses, what had used to be a clothing store. There, a trio of diesel-height docking bays and a ground level overhead door were located. The soldier pointed the rig to one of the bays and the bus to the overhead door. As Matt brought the bus to a halt in front of the door it slowly opened up and another soldier motioned him to drive inside the warehouse. Once Matt killed the engine he opened the door and they all exited the bus. A pair of workers stood near the open docking bay patiently waiting for Ron to park the rig.

A burly, sour faced, middle-aged man with greasy hair and dressed in black overalls and holding a clipboard in his hand stepped up to Matt. He looked to his clipboard a moment before staring at Matt. "Both your vehicles have a full load. This is going to take awhile." The man was no nonsense and straight to the point.

"We have an injured man." Matt said. "He needs immediate medical attention."

"I know." Again the man looked at his clipboard. "An ambulance is on the way. Go ahead and unload him."

Matt and Rick went back aboard the bus and carried Zack out on his stretcher. Matt was glad to see that plenty of color had returned to Zack's face and he was breathing easy as he slept.

"What kind of injury does he have?"

"He was shot." Matt said.

"We heard that Fort Douglas had fallen so we've been expecting some refugees. But you're the first we've seen."

"Don't expect too many." Rick said. "The place didn't just fall it was overrun. I don't think there were many survivors."

"You people made it out." He said almost accusatorily.

"Barely..." Matt said.

Ron and Jenkins approached from the docking bay.

"He says this is going to take awhile." Matt told them. "But an ambulance is coming for Zack."

"What's awhile?" Jenkins asked the customs worker.

"It depends how much you people have, but we're talking at least a few hours."

"Do all of us have to wait here the whole time?"

"Only if you want to. I can call a shuttle to take you into town where you can get rooms."

"I'm staying to inventory the load." Ron said.

"Me too." Jenkins said. "But the rest of you might want to take that ride." When nobody said any different they nodded to the customs agent and he grabbed his radio and called for the shuttle.

The ambulance arrived and two medics came rushing in with an adjustable stretcher on wheels. They quickly loaded Zack aboard and wheeled him away.

The burly customs worker walked back over to them. "You people are in luck. Seems there was a shuttle bus already up here, parked out front, transporting the workers for the morning shift. It's coming around back to pick you up."

"Once we get settled I'll contact you." Rick said to his brother.

"We'll probably still be here counting our load." Ron said with a smile...

Chapter 22.

Sunday, June 24, 2001 Park City, UT 8:21 AM.

The shuttle was a half sized bus suited for the narrow, winding streets of downtown Park City. As it began to move Matt wearily looked at each of his fellow survivors, trying to gauge how they were holding up.

Susan was a fighter. He had known that from the first day her family had set out with him and Zack last week. She had proven how tough she could be during their supply raid into the city. And he also remembered just how soft she had been last night. He knew that his intense emotional attachment too her was amplified by the extreme circumstances and the intimate contact they had shared, but he didn't care. These were trying times and a man couldn't always stand on his own two feet. Matt was glad that Susan was there to support him, even catch him should he fall.

He thought the same of her family as well. David was now Matt's little brother, and Sharon, poor widowed Sharon, was like a beloved aunt, drowned in tragedy and needing his protection. He had sworn it to Frank as he gasped his dying breath in Matt's arms.

His gaze fell on Rick Black. Like his brother Ron, he had proven his loyalty time and again. He was as dedicated to reaching Rainbow Lake as Matt was, with the hopes of finding a safe haven for his family. Matt had only briefly met Rick's wife Jennifer or her sister Samantha, each of them cuddling small children.

Mac had jumped on the bus as they were making their escape from Ft. Douglas. He had been a guard at there who had helped David rescue Zack from an assassin superzombie at the base hospital. The medium sized, dark haired soldier had known Ron, Rick and Jenkins so he had Matt's trust.

Scotty Bowen and his black Labrador Zeke had kept mostly to themselves since being rescued from lions yesterday. When he did talk Scotty seemed friendly enough and spoke of home back in Missouri. Zeke was a well-trained dog that seemed almost humanly intelligent.

They were a rag-tag group of fifteen tired, desperate refugees. Matt was amazed when he realized it had been less than two weeks since he and Zack had first joined up with the Young family and fled their house. Less than two weeks? It seemed much longer.

Susan snuggled against him and he wrapped an arm around her.

"Safe at last..." He said.

"But for how long?" She asked. He didn't answer her but instead closed his eyes and dozed...

He startled awake when the shuttle bus came to a halt outside a large hotel. The Park City Resort. They exited the bus and filed into the lobby of the grand hotel. Booking rooms was eerily similar to its pre-plague equivalent. They simply spoke to the attendant behind the desk and instead of paying money gave them a voucher from the customs station. It took three trips in groups of five aboard the elevator to the third floor but soon they all had their own room. Matt and Susan shared a room as did Rick, his wife and daughters.

Matt took a hot shower and was joined shortly by Susan. They made intensely passionate love under the hot spray of water before retiring to the bed where they lay wrapped in each other's arms.

"Here we are again." Susan said.

"I think we're safe this time." Matt said.

"What about Zack? Is he safe?"

"Safer than the last two hospitals we've taken him too." They lay there in silence for a while.

"I made a promise to your dad, as he lay there dying in my arms. He looked me in the eye and I promised him I would take care of his family. You, Davey, your mom, you're my family now. I said it last night and I'll say it again. I need you. I need your strength. You are so strong Susan. I can see it in your eyes. I could see that the first time I ever lay eyes on you. Without you by my side these past few days I don't think I would have managed."

Susan raised her head up to look at him with glistening eyes.