"It's not the blood test I'm worried about. It's the debriefing." Matt envisioned several brutal tortures in his head.

"Relax." Jenkins said. "These people aren't barbarians. They will talk to us. Ask us questions. We have nothing to hide."

Matt wished he shared Jenkins confidence. He kept thinking of the firefight in the city, and Frank choking to death on his own blood. They all remained quiet and stewed in their own thoughts for several minutes until a small army transport truck arrived. The street had mostly cleared of passer-bys but the sidewalks and doorways were packed with onlookers as a pair of soldiers hoisted them to back of the truck one at a time. The soldiers climbed up after them and sat at the back of the truck, their M-16 rifles trained in their prisoner's general direction. The truck started down the road followed by the two jeeps. Almost instantly the crowd of people came alive, going back about their business as if nothing had happened...

Chapter 25.

Sunday, June 24, 2001 Park City, UT 12:50 PM.

Zack hurried down the alley, sensing the psychic presence of all the people in town pressing upon his mind with a tightening pressure until his head felt like it would explode. Whatever was happening to him, it was accelerating. He needed to be alone so he could think. He quickly leapt over the next fence he came to, dropping down into the loading docks for the Park City Resort. There were three docking bays. One was occupied by a forty-foot tractor-trailer. As he walked past the nose of the rig he couldn't see anyone in the cab. He threw a quick glance over his shoulder, half expecting to see those burning red eyes of the nightmare creature. But he was alone.

Zack turned north, across the parking lot where another five-foot chain link fence marked the boundary. He felt a burning surge of strength and energy sizzle outward from the center of his brain and down his spinal cord. All of his pain and exhaustion disappeared in less than a second and was replaced by raw seething power! It seemed as if everything slowed down just a little bit and at the same time took on a sharper, more defined look. He was no longer walking but gliding... Gliding on liquid adrenaline. The fence that was rapidly closing before him wasn't so tall after all and he simply jumped over it without missing a step and ran towards the thick forest that covered the base of the mountain. Without turning his head to look back he looked back psychically and saw that he was still alone.

The thick forest enveloped Zack, and within the span of a single breath Zack's other five senses came alive, even sharper than they had in the hospital. He could smell things with greater sensitivity, discerning new scents where none had been before. And for every scent smelled there was the faintest taste of it as well. His hearing became so acute that he could detect birds in three different nests in three different trees as he moved through the forest. He could hear the mice and the moles burrowing in the earth beneath his feet. Zack's vision sharpened even more. Details lost in the shadows of the forest became clearly visible. And his newfound ESP also provided him with psychic rearview mirrors so that he could see nearly 360 degrees. And as he glided along he could actually feel the presence of the trees and other obstacles ahead of him; a faint mental push, like radar, that helped him to guide along.

The ground began to slope sharply upward but Zack continued up the mountainside, not stopping until he was halfway up the forested slope. He turned and looked back the way he had come. His heart was a liquid thunder in his ears; each hammering beat filling him with fresh vigor. He cocked his head to one side, sniffing the air and listening past his pounding heart for sounds of pursuit... Faint cries, far below at the resort. But no one had followed him. Zack slowly felt the fire drain from his veins and his senses return to almost normal, though they still kept that razors edge that would alert him to any danger and allow him to react accordingly.

As he slowly came down from his heightened awareness the stark reality of what was happening to him settled in and his stomach cramped. Zack collapsed to his knees, grunting in pain as his stomach cramped even further. Molten pain exploded from behind his eyes and his vision went white! For what seemed an endless time he floated in that white-hot agony, oblivious to anything else, but eventually something other than that white void of suffering crept into his awareness and ever so slowly the pain receded.

Zack opened his eyes. The bright afternoon sun glared back at him. He was lying on his back. He clenched his teeth and sat up, surprised when the expected pain did not come. The forest around him was quiet. Not even a bird was chirping. Zack breathed deeply. There was a scent of rot on the wind. The fetid stench of decay was thick as fog. He looked around him to see three zombies standing motionless twenty feet away. They all faced different directions in the forest and none of them paid him any attention. Perhaps they had not seen him? Zack slowly rose to his feet. All three zombies slowly turned to look...but made no move towards him.

He felt the energy building in the center of his head again and winced, waiting for the explosion of synaptic electricity. And it came, though not so painful as before and with it this time came a psychic awareness of the three zombies. Where the crowd of the city had been a warm, light giving aura those of the zombies were cold black vacuums that echoed with the spark of life. These black holes pulled at Zack's psyche, and his burning light filled them, over powered them... And he could senses that their mindless will was his to command.

'Back!'

He gave a sharp mental command and the zombies staggered a few paces back. Amazing! Yet at the same time it was horrifying. What was happening to him? That he had been infected with something was for sure, but what? He was not turning into a normal zombie. Not with the abilities he was manifesting. And by the description Matt had given him of a superzombie he wasn't becoming one of them either. Zack closed his eyes as another nightmare image of that slimy, reptilian face wrapped in a black cloak leering over him as he drifted between life and death at Summittown.

Whatever he was becoming he knew he would never be accepted among normal humankind again. Now that he was developing the senses of a monster how soon before he developed the appetite of one as well? It wouldn't take long for the results of his blood tests to come back and the hospital sent out the alarm. Hunting parties would be organized. He was surprised at how little emotion he felt over his situation. He would simply continue ahead to Rainbow Lake and try and explain everything to Matt and the others. But whom did Zack think he was kidding? They would kill him on sight. And they would be right. He was no longer the Zack Thomas they knew but some horrible monster to be destroyed.

Another synaptic seizure caused him to spasm momentarily and he suddenly became aware of the Other's. Their psychic aura's pulled at him like electro-magnets, causing him to gaze to the northeast. He could feel their presence perhaps ten miles away. He felt the electric fire building inside him once again, fueling him with bursting energy. He was helpless against its call...

Chapter 26.

Sunday, June 24, 2001 Park City, UT 1:31 PM.

When Ron returned from the tariff station he had went straight to his room and taken a hot shower. The rash he'd developed while out on the raid was getting pretty bad and he'd been eager to clean it. The hot water and soap soothed the rash, cooling the pain and the need to scratch. But after the shower, looking at it in the mirror, he saw that it had spread from his throat down his chest and under one arm. The flesh in the inflicted area was red and inflamed with small green boils no bigger than pimples. While the shower may have soothed the pain he saw that it had also caused many of the boils to swell and burst. Putrid yellow pus oozed from the wounds. His mind reeled with horror and fright.

The rash had developed where the superzombie had grabbed him during the battle returning from the raid. It had clutched him around the throat from behind, nearly choking him into unconsciousness. He didn't remember much after that, only coming too from a haze back inside the walls of Ft. Douglas. And the skin of his throat had already begun to itch and burn.

As he looked into the mirror his own reflection of fear, shock, and utter hopelessness looked back at him. He knew right then and there that he had been infected with the zombie plague. The zombie hadn't bitten him, but as Ron looked closer he saw several scratch marks along the underside of his chin.

Scratch marks.

He had come out of the shower in a daze to find a message on his bedside phone. It was from Jenkins. He said to meet him down in the bar. Ron was in no hurry to get down stairs. If Jenkins knew that he was infected he would most assuredly shoot him right between the eyes. Jenkins might be his partner but he was also a cold, calculating son of a bitch who wouldn't think twice about shooting his partner to stop the spread of the plague. So would anyone who valued life over the walking dead. Ron knew he was going to die, but he wasn't ready to go just yet.

Ron lay back on the soft bed. The softest bed he had ever laid on. Within seconds he was asleep... But he snapped wide-awake several minutes later, his stomach grumbling with hunger. The rash was itching like hell, and his whole chest felt hot and sticky. He raced to the bathroom and looked in the mirror; the rash had now spread under both arms to the elbow and all the way around his chest to his back. Several more of the boils had burst as well, leaking their fetid liquid. He used half a roll of toilet paper to clean the pus from his chest before he painfully pulled on a t-shirt. The rash burned like severe sunburn and itched like a fresh mosquito bites. He finished dressing with fresh clothes taken from his suitcase and went down stairs. Better they all hear it from his mouth.

It took most of his concentration to keep from scratching his chest and arms but as soon as he entered the bar he realized something was going on. Everybody had left their seats and was huddled around the door and large pane windows to see what was going on outside. Ron made his way through the crowd, cringing in pain as someone bumped into him causing the rash to flare with hot pain. But he found a spot by the window and peered out. Several soldiers were in the process of arresting some people. Ron peered closer...Two soldiers, a dark haired man and a blond haired woman. It took him several more seconds for his mind to register that he recognized the people being arrested. The two soldiers were Jenkins and Mac. The man was Matt and the woman was Susan. Ron moved away from the window and made his way outside just as the truck drove away.

Ron's head spun as he tried to figure out what the hell was going on.

His first thought was that the Park City Militia was double crossing them. They knew the size of the load they had brought in and they weren't satisfied with 50%. They wanted the whole thing. A wave of paranoia washed through him but it quickly faded as reason set in. If Park City made a habit of robbing every big score that rolled in they would be cutting their own throats. They depended on independent operators going down into Salt Lake and bringing back the big score. While they had been at the tariff station one of the workers had told him about several rival raider gangs that competed with each other for the biggest score's. Sometimes their competition got deadly.

But if they weren't here to steal their load then what other reason was there to arrest them? The discomfort of the rash suddenly made him think they were after him. But that too couldn't be possible. No one else knew he had developed the rash. Ron turned to a sour faced, spike and leather clad biker walking back into the bar.

"What happened?"

"They were infected."

His words hit Ron like a brick wall. Infected? When did that happen? None of them had said anything about being touched by a superzombie. Was one of them bit out on the raid? Was Mac bit while helping rescue Zack from the base hospital?

"How do you know?" Ron asked.

"I heard the doctor and one of the soldiers talking. He said one of them was infected."

"Did he say which one?" They had been looking for him. Maybe one of the soldier's at the tariff station had spotted the rash and reported it? Maybe they had seen other cases of it and recognized it for what it was?

"I didn't hear the whole conversation. Just that one of them was infected so they all had to be checked."

"How did they make it into the city?" asked a heavily made up young prostitute standing nearby.

"How the fuck would I know?" the biker said gruffly and walked away. Ron and the prostitute looked at each other and she smiled provocatively.

"You need a date?" she asked.

"No thanks." Ron said, turning back into the bar. What the fuck was he going to do? Did he dare contact the military to find out what was happening? They would undoubtedly uncover his secret. It was all he could to now to walk around with his shirt chaffing the rash until he wanted to scream and scratch and scratch until he bled. Dazed and confused, Ron made his way back upstairs, went to his brother's door and knocked.

"Rick! Open up! We got an emergency on our hands!" The door opened seconds later and Rick and stepped out into the hallway. He was fully clothed but his hair was still wet from the shower.

"Keep it down. The girls are finally asleep. If I wake them up Jen will kill me." His mood was cheery and jovial.

"Rick we have a serious situation on our hands." Ron could barely contain his anxiety.

"What the hell are you talking about?" Rick had just begun to feel safe and relaxed. Ron's mod disturbed him.

"I went down stairs to meet Jenkins but he was being arrested by the military."

"Arrested?" Rick nearly screamed himself.

"Not just him; Matt and Susan and Mac as well. All four of them were handcuffed and put into a jeep."

"What for?"

"One man told me they were infected."

"But when?" Rick asked. "How?" Rick was as taken aback as he had been.

"I don't know? Maybe while we were out on the raid?"

"Nobody got bit out on the raid." Rick said. "Nobody... They checked us when we first made it back to the base. Nobody was bit."

"You don't have to be bit." Ron said absently.

"What?" Rick was confused by his brother's strange behavior.

"They'll come and arrest us next."

"Let them take us. I'm clean. So are you. We all are." Rick looked into Ron's eyes as he said this, and something there chilled him. "We are all clean, aren't we bro?"

"I got scratched on the throat by that superzombie. Scratched! Can you fucking believe that?"

"Ron, what the hell are you talking about?" There was growing fear in Rick's voice.

"I've been infected little brother." Ron pulled down the front of his shirt to showed Rick the festering rash. Rick winced as the stench hit his nostrils. "That fucking deadfuck scratched me on the throat and now I'm going to turn into a fucking zombie." Ron's spoke with little emotion.

"You've been infected?" David's voice startled them both. He had come up behind Ron silent as a cat. "How did you get infected?" David asked, taking a step back from Ron. Ron looked around the hallway of the hotel but it was empty. Ron quickly told David about the four being arrested as well as the development of his rash.

"Maybe the soldiers were talking about Zack." David said. Ron and Rick looked at him oddly. "He's up at the hospital now. Maybe they said he was infected and they wanted to check his friends too."

"The slime at the motel!" Ron blurted, slapping himself in the forehead as the light bulb went on inside.

"What are you talking about?" Rick asked.

"It makes perfect sense. Back at Summittown a superzombie went into Zack's room. We know because we found slime trails "That's right." Rick said. "The same kind of slime we found near those brain sucked corpses out on the raid."

"Do you think Zack was infected by a superzombie? Just like me." Ron asked.

"Do you think you'll turn into a normal zombie? Or a superzombie?" David asked.

"What the hell kind of a question is that?" Rick snapped angrily.

"It's the right question." Ron said blankly. "What kind of zombie will I become? A fast, thinking, mean ass son of a bitch or a staggering deadfuck? For all your sake I hope it's a staggering deadfuck so you can deal with me easily. The same goes for Zack. Hopefully those bastards at the hospital will put him out of his misery before he turns."

David felt his emotions stretch thin as he thought about Ron's last statement. He was still in shock over his Fathers death, yet to come to terms with the traumatic events just a few days ago. David couldn't even remember for sure how many days ago it happened. Now Ron was infected with the zombie plague and Zack probably was too. And maybe even his sister and Matt? David felt like screaming at the top of his lungs! Cursing God and the Devil and everything in between for destroying his life! Destroying the world's life. He wanted to scream and scream until he was raw in the throat and could scream no more. But instead he laughed...

Chapter 27.

Sunday, June 24, 2001 Park City, UT 1:50 PM.

They arrived at the Park City hospital and the jeep lead them around the back of the building. As it came to a halt near one of the ambulance entrances Matt realized just how scared he was.

"This is so fucked." He grumbled.

"Relax." Jenkins said. Matt was amazed at how calm Jenkins remained. Susan looked as afraid as he was and a nervous sweat had broken out on Mac's brow but Jenkins still had that cocky smile of his, as if to say he didn't have a care in the world. "None of us are infected. It will only take a few minutes to confirm then they will let us go."

"How can you be sure of that?" Susan quipped. She didn't like Jenkins and it showed.

"Nothings for sure girly." He smirked at her as if she were a child.

"Fuck you asshole!" Susan snapped at him. Jenkins just chuckled back at her.

Two soldiers came around the back of the truck, M-16's in hand. They ordered them out of the truck, which was somewhat awkward with handcuffs on but they all managed nonetheless. The Captain and the twitchy doctor walked over to them from the jeep.

"Now you understand why I can't un-cuff you right now?" He looked at each of them in turn before looking at Jenkins. "If any of you are infected keeping you cuffed will just make disposal quicker and easier for everyone."

"Nice to know you're thinking about us."

"Take 'em inside." The Captain ordered the two soldiers. As they went inside Matt heard the twitchy doctor and the Captain begin to argue with each other.

Inside there were half a dozen nurses waiting for them. They were taken into a small room to one side and sat down in chairs. While the two soldiers stood watch over the nurses quickly drew blood from each of them. Once finished the nurses and the soldiers exited the room and the door was closed and locked.

"Are you nervous yet?" Matt asked Jenkins.

"Not at all." Jenkins leaned his head back and pursed his lips under his salt and pepper mustache. Matt didn't like Jenkins arrogance either. Sometimes Matt just wanted to punch him in the mouth.

A foreboding silence fell across the four of them and in the tiny room time soon lost meaning. Matt didn't know whether it had been five minutes or an hour since the nurses had left but the door was eventually unlocked and opened. Standing there was the Captain who had arrested them and the twitchy doctor.

"You are all clean." He said as if he wished otherwise. They all breathed a heavy sigh of relief. Even Jenkins.

"So we're free to go?" Mac asked, standing up. "Remove my cuffs."

"Not just yet." The Captain said.

"What the hell are you talking about?" Jenkins barked.

"We want to ask you a few questions."

"There's no need to keep us cuffed." Matt said.

"Maybe, maybe not? I just don't know that yet."