Deadrise (52 page)

Major Farrell rolled onto his back and saw the second guard raising his automatic to fire at Jenkins. But Farrell was quicker, rolling to his side and lashing out with his foot, planting the point of his steel toed combat boot into the guard’s testicles. The bastard doubled in pain and Farrell pulled his leg back and threw a strong kick to the man’s face, which caved around the steel toe with a resounding
thud-crunch!
The man flopped onto his back, trying unsuccessfully to breath through his ruined face.

Jenkins rolled to his feet with a spring and hurried to Capt. Sheen. He was still alive, the front of his shirt wet with flowing blood, his breathing coming in deep, painful gasps but his eyes were as full of hate as ever. But looking down at him, Jenkins realized that he actually pitied the son of a bitch.

"It didn’t have to come to this Sheen. You brought this upon yourself."

"FUCK YOU cocksucker!" Sheen barked, bloody spittle flying between his lips. "What the hell are you waiting for? Kill me you fuck!"

Well, ok, he didn’t pity him that much.

"Maybe I should let you come back as a zombie and give you to the Mad Doctor to cut up and play with like my friend Ron?"

He saw the anger melt from Sheens eyes at once, replaced by fear. "You wouldn’t?" Sheen sounded desperate, as if he were trying to convince himself.

"Wouldn’t I? You mean nothing to me Sheen. You are a piece of dog shit on my boot heel that I’m about to scrape off. What do I care what happens to you once you're dead?"

The fear in Sheens eyes turned to dread and his lips began to tremble as his life continued to slip away. "Please…God…No…" He gurgled on a mouthful of blood.

"Don’t worry though, even a piece of dog shit like you doesn’t deserve that fate." Jenkins aimed the pistol at Sheens forehead.

"Thank you." Sheen gurgled softly and closed his eyes. He mumbled a quick prayer, made the sign of the cross and relaxed, accepting his fate.

Jenkins put two bullets into his forehead just to be sure.

He checked the fallen guards. The one he had plugged four times in the body was dead, but Jenkins put two bullets through the corpses head to prevent reanimation. The one with the smashed face was still alive, barely able to breath and his fluids rapidly draining from his broken face. Jenkins put two rounds into his skull as well.

He then set about un-cuffing Farrell.

"It looks like I really can trust you." Jenkins told Farrell as the cuffs came off. Jenkins looked about at the corpses and shook his head. All of these men had worked in the War Room, relaying commands to the field and updating intelligence reports for Command, and they had turned against him before he even assumed command. Even the front desk personnel had left their posts, knowing full well that Sheen planned to assume command.

The two front guards came bursting in through the main entrance, M-16’s in hand. They actually looked
surprised
to see Jenkins and Farrell standing there unharmed.

"Expecting someone else?" Jenkins asked with a wry laugh. He knew they were Sheens men and for a moment he thought they might open up with their rifles but they only surveyed the dead bodies with shocked looks on their faces.

"What happened?" one of them finally mustered the nerve to ask.

"Captain Sheen tried to kill me and take command for himself, but I spoiled his plans. What the hell took you two so long getting in here? Don’t tell me you couldn’t hear the gunfire!"

"We-I-We-" One of them began to stutter.

"YOU KNEW FULL WELL I WAS WALKING INTO AN AMBUSH!" Jenkins screamed at the top of his lungs. "That is aiding and abetting in a mutiny. Do you have any idea what kind of penalty mutiny carries?" The two guards could only peer meekly at the corpses of Capt. Sheen and his co-conspirators in response. "Exactly!"

"He told us
you
killed General Parker!" one of them pleaded with cowardly gusto.

"He did!" The other one backed his play. "He said you killed General Parker because the General didn’t send reinforcements down to Douglas a few days ago and it fell."

"Everybody in the War Room heard you scream at the General and call him incompetent and saw you beat the shit out of Captain Sheen. The Captain said you were crazy with hate for the deadfucks because they had slaughtered your whole platoon and you blamed it on the General for not sending help."

Jenkins could tell by the fearful sincerity in their eyes they were telling the truth and shook his head in disgust. He had blamed the General for the fall of Fort Douglas, insulting the General and assaulted his second in command in front of all of the War Room command personnel.

"He was right about everything except for me killing the General. It was Parkers own incompetence that got him killed. He should have just burned that damn thing when I told him to instead of insisting on an autopsy, he would still be alive… All of these men would still be alive."

If...

Would have...

Should have...

None of them could undo what had been done. Nor would his explanation garner him respect in the eyes of the Park City militia. No matter what he said there would always be those who believed that he killed the General and there would be coup after coup until he was dead.

"So what are you going to do now?" Farrell asked him.

"I’m going to go upstairs to my office, grab my things, go to the heliport and fly home. And if anybody tries to stop me I’m going to kill them." The two guards looked away like whipped dogs.

Farrell eyed him grudgingly. "So where’s home?"

A smile spread across Jenkins face. "A little cabin on a lake back in the hills. Why? Are you interested in tagging along?"

When they entered the War Room, only half the usual staff was on duty, and everybody there made it a point to be busy doing something that would require them to avoid Jenkins eyes. They had all known about Sheen’s coup attempt.

"Listen up people!" Jenkins said loudly, but everybody kept about the business as if he hadn’t been heard. He gave Farrell a
‘why me?’
look, un-holstered one of his pistols and fired two shots into the ceiling.

That got everyone’s attention.

"Can everybody hear me now?" He looked at the faces in the room, contempt and disrespect was all he could see staring back at him. "Captain Sheen is dead." That registered as a surprise on their faces. "I killed that piece of shit myself. However, I DID NOT kill General Parker. That was a lie spread by Sheen to turn you all against me, and I can see it worked. I don’t know whom the next in command after Sheen was, and frankly I don’t give a shit. I am getting my things and I am leaving. If any of you bastards try to stop me, I’ll kill you." He glared around the room to see if there were any Rambo’s…there was not.

"Watch my back. I’ll be right back." Farrell nodded and Jenkins walked across the War Room to his office. Farrell turned toward the occupants of the room and kept the barrel of the rifle aimed in their general direction.

Jenkins returned a minute later with his M-16, jacket, radio and small duffle bag of personal gear. Farrell was standing right where he had left him.

"HOLY SHIT!" One of the security operators nearly jumped out of his seat at what he saw on his monitors. "There are deadfucks in the morgue!" The Duty officer hurried over to the security console, several aides right behind him.

"Those are Alphas!" exclaimed the officer. With a furrowed brow Jenkins rushed to the console and saw for himself. The technician was right. There were three Alphas; two members of the extermination team and another suited in surgical blues, formerly a doctor by all appearances.

The technician tapped his keyboard and another security monitor switched to the hallway camera where Dr. Cooper could be seen running for the elevator, his face cringing with panic. Behind him, near the morgue entrance stood a confused guard, his M-16 held low. The guard turned and looked back into the morgue then suddenly began hopping around on one foot, swatting at his legs then his crotch. He fell to the floor, writhing in apparent pain just as Dr. Cooper reached the elevator.

"What the hell is he doing in the morgue? I ordered him to the incinerator to burn those bodies!" Jenkins didn’t like the cold, sinking feeling that suddenly crept into his gut.

"Dr. Cooper ordered an emergency autopsy on three of the burned bodies from down stairs. Captain Sheen approved it." The Duty Officer said. "He called for Dr. Vasquez to assist him."

"That stupid, crazy bastard." Jenkins muttered.

"SIR!" one of the communication techs called from down the line.

"What is it?" the duty officer called, never taking his eyes off the security monitors.

"Kimball Junction is under attack sir!"

"WHAT?" Jenkins and the duty officer blurted simultaneously.

"Kimball Junction is under attack! They report a huge number of zombies pouring out of Parleys Canyon, with a couple of Abrams tanks leading the way."

The duty officer looked to Jenkins, his face pale with fright, his eyes clouded with confusion, his Adams apple bobbing like a cork...but beyond that a desperate, frantic plea for help. He was
way
out of his league and he knew it. Captain Sheen was dead, and with him went his version of the truth. This was the here and now, and it was Colonel Jenkins standing before him. If Jenkins didn’t make his move soon this young Lieutenant…Gates his nametag read, would most likely fall to his knees and beg him to
resume
command.

"Get men down to the morgue to deal with those Alphas." Jenkins growled at the duty officer. He glanced at his watch, surprised that it was barely 18:00 hours. It had only been two hours since the ill-fated autopsy. So much had happened in that time that it seemed several hours ago. Knowing any plans he’d had for a helicopter ride back to the lake had just put on indefinite hold, he felt now was as good a time as any to call home and spread the good news. Besides, it was way past time for him to check in. He wouldn’t be surprised if they had been trying to reach him for a while now, unable to since he had left his radio in his office when he went to the autopsy.

He pulled his radio from his belt and went to call home when he noticed the power was off. That wrinkled his head in confusion. He had left it on when leaving it behind, of that he was certain.

"Captain Sheen had me go into your office and turn it off while you away with the General." Lt. Gates said.

"And you are just now telling me?" Jenkins gave him a hard stare and Gates cringed like the craven he was.

"In all the confusion it slipped my mind sir." He could see Gates was expecting to be shot any moment. But Jenkins only shook his head in disgust turning away from the pathetic excuse of an officer and powering on his radio.

"Matt, do you have a copy?" a few seconds later, "Matt this is Jenkins do you copy?"

"JENKINS?" It was Susan who replied, screaming into her receiver. "JENKINS IS THAT YOU?"

"It’s Jenkins."

"WHERE THE HELL HAVE YOU BEEN? WE’VE BEEN TRYING TO REACH YOU FOR HOURS!" Her voice was shrill and terrified. It was difficult to discern over her screaming, but he thought he could hear other shouts and the
crack
of multiple gunshots. "WE ARE UNDER ATTACK! DO YOU COPY? WE ARE UNDER ATTACK!"

Chapter 53

Tuesday, June 26, 2001

Rainbow Lake, UT

5:57 PM

While the newcomers rotated into the shower, everyone else had prepared for the assault. All of the children were taken to a room on the third floor that accessed the rear balcony and roof via a small rung ladder set into the wall at the far end of the balcony. Samantha and Sharon stayed in the room with the children while David and Jennifer took defensive positions on the balcony, wearing heavy body armor and armed with their rifles, grenades and Molotov Cocktails.

On the second floor, Matt, Mac, and Sgt. Turner took firing positions on the rear balcony while Rick and Susan occupied the front balcony. They weren’t expecting the assault to come from the front because it was much quicker to walk the mile down the beach and pour out of the forest, as the earlier assault had shown…but it was best to be prepared. Cpl. Norris, the medic, stood at ready in the hallway with his medical bag and rifle, hoping his talents were not needed. Scotty stood atop the stairwell while Pvt. Irving and Pvt. Cordoba were at the bottom of the flight in the foyer, ready to shoot any deadfucks that penetrated the house from front or back.

Outside, Commander King, Cpl. Philips and Cpl. Carey waited in the
Tincan,
ready to provide heavy ground assault against the horde. It was a job that all three men seemed to relish.

"Gonna get some!" was how Cpl. Philips put it, full of fire and attitude…

It was just minutes before 6:00 PM when the dogs took up their wailing again, bounding down the southern tree line toward the lakeshore in a yelping, barking pack. Matt tried to push the butterflies out of his stomach as he took his place on the second floor balcony, flat on his stomach, barrel of his rifle pointed out between the slats of the railing. Lying this way, with his helmet and body armor, he made for a small target, but he could still see the bullet from earlier, approaching in slow motion yet helpless to avoid it, and he also remembered the pain and dread that had accompanied the impact.

The first dog to reach the beach was the greyhound that they had dubbed Lady. Lady turned south to face whatever was approaching but her barks of anger turned to yelps of pain as she was cut down by gunfire. The other three dogs came up short, stopping several feet back from Ladies twitching, bleeding body, barking and back-pedaling with confusion.