Deadrise

by Steven R. Gardner

  THE DEAD SOLDIERS!

  Matt had forgotten all about the corpses. Only one of them had been shot through the head. The other still had an intact brain, and it could revive! Matt looked for his gun, but he had left it on the ground when he carried Zack aboard. Luckily an M-16 was lying next to Frank and Matt snatched it up and ran aboard the bus.

  The soldier Frank had shot through the chest had become a zombie, and it was on its knees and using a seat to pull itself to its feet. Matt stepped up to it, put the barrel of the rifle to the creature’s forehead and squeezed the trigger. The back of its skull exploded and it fell dead between the seats.

  “Up to the front of the bus.” Matt ordered Susan and David, and they complied silently. Matt quickly dragged the two corpses out of the bus. He then went back aboard and pulled a blanket out of one of their packs and went back outside.

  “Into the bus.” he told Sharon, ushering her in. “David, grab your gun, and come out when I tell you.” Matt tossed aside the M-16 and retrieved his own AR-15. They were going to the hospital and if any other soldiers saw the M-16, it could get them into trouble.

  He quickly put a bullet through the head of the final soldiers corpse just as it was beginning to stir. Finally, he grabbed Frank’s body by the feet and dragged it to the rear of the bus. He aimed the rifle at Frank’s head, but could not bring himself to pull the trigger.

  Maybe he won’t come back? Maybe he will stay dead?

  Matt knew he was wishing for a miracle that would never be answered. Frank’s corpse opened its eyes. It let out a small moan and began to raise its arms.

  “I’m sorry.” Matt said, blinking away more tears before putting a single bullet through Frank’s head. He then spread the blanket over the body. He quickly wiped his eyes dry then walked to the front of the bus, where Sharon and David stood in the door.

  “We heard shots,” she said.

  “It was nothing. Now go back on the bus.”

  “Where’s Frank?” she asked, looking around.

  “I moved him to the back so you wouldn’t have to look at him. Now please go back on the bus?” She looked at him, her eyes pleading for him to explain what had happened, why her world had turned upside down? Why her husband was dead? “Please Sharon?”

  Susan appeared behind her. “Come on mom.” she said softly. “Come and help me get Zack cleaned up.” Matt could see she was fighting her own fear, but she had found strength for her mother.

  Matt turned to David. “I need you to stand guard while I pump gas.” Matt said.

  “Ok.” David said, looking half in shock himself.

  Matt grabbed the large pump nozzle and inserted it into the fuel receptacle. It took several long, paranoid minutes, always expecting either more soldiers, or zombies to appear out of the darkness. But none came. When the pump clicked full, he hooked the handle back to the pump and they both climbed back aboard the bus. Matt took the wheel and they were on their way…

  Chapter 6

  Thursday, June 21, 2001

  Salt Lake City, UT

  7:40 PM

  They had not driven more than mile through dark suburban neighborhoods before Zack began coughing fitfully. Matt stopped the bus in the center of the road and killed the headlights. He walked back to where Zack lay. Susan knelt beside him, holding his head up and giving him encouragement.

  “We have to do something!” Susan exclaimed.

  “How are you doing buddy?” Matt asked Zack.

  “I-I can’t breath.” Zack whispered. He was taking deep breaths, and his lungs sounded full of liquid. He broke into a fit of coughing, spitting mouthfuls of blood. Matt looked at his wound. The bullet had passed clean through the deltoid muscle of Zack’s left arm in into his ribcage just under his armpit. Blood was pooling onto the seat cushion and beginning to spill over onto the floor of the bus. “I’m going to die. Aren’t I.” there was no question in his voice.

  “Don’t be stupid.” Matt said.

  “We can’t get to the hospital, and I’m going to die.”

  “You are not going to die Zack.” Susan said, trying not to think about his cool skin. “You just have to stay quiet. Save your strength.”

  Zack looked to Matt. “I don’t want to be one of those things.” he said.

  “Don’t be ridi-” Matt began but Zack cut him off.

  “I’m serious goddamn it! I don’t want to be one of those dead fucks! Do you understand me!” his grip was weak, but his eyes were clear.

  “I understand.” Matt said. “But don’t worry because it won’t come to that.”

  “I can barely fucking breath.” Zack whispered, coughing again. “I’m going to drown in my own blood.”

  “I have an idea.” David cut in.

  “Lets hear it.” Matt said.

  “Air is escaping through the bullet wound. And when it does it creates a vacuum, sucking in blood. We have to wrap the wound really tight. Airtight. It will help him breath and probably slow the internal bleeding.”

  “Where did you get that idea?” Susan asked.

  “I read it in a Stephen King book.”

  “Davey to the rescue again.” Matt said. David went to one of the suitcases of luggage. He pulled out a towel and sheet.

  “Fold the towel up to make a hard pad.” David said.

  “Right.” Matt said. “That’ll help plug the hole.”

  “Then we can tear the sheet into strips to make bandages.” They set about the task quickly. David folded the towel into a book sided pad, while Matt cut the sheet into several strips. There was a banging from the rear of the bus that startled them all. Matt and David quickly snatched up their rifles, and moved to the back of the bus. There was a single zombie, leaning up against the back door. It moaned softly as it spotted them through the window. They looked out in the darkness, seeing several more dark shapes lumbering towards the bus.

  “I’ll drive.” Matt said. “You and your sister bandage Zack.”

  By the time Matt had started the bus, more zombies had appeared out of the dark, clawing at the bus. He turned on the headlights, illuminating two more just in front of them. He put it in gear and began rolling, knocking the two zombies aside like bowling pins. Ahead, the street was lined with at least ten zombies, all with arms outstretched towards them.

  “Unbelievable.” Matt said, amazed at how quickly civilization had fallen apart. It had been less than a week since they had fled their houses. Meanwhile, Susan held the pad tight against Zack’s wound, and David wrapped several bandage strips around his midsection, tying them tight. Another couple strips they tied around his arm wound, and the blood flow slowed considerably. All the while Zack moaned in pain. But finally they were through, and they eased Zack back gently, and he let out a long sigh of relief. David and Susan could hear a difference in his breathing.

  “Better.” Zack said softly.

  “Now stay quiet. Save your strength.” Susan said, wiping the sweat from Zack’s face with a strip of the sheet. “Once we get to the hospital, everything will be ok.” Susan looked back at her mother who was still weeping silently. And she wondered if anything would ever be ok again…

  It took them several more hours, but at last, just as the sun was peeking over the eastern horizon, the yellow school bus emerged from one of seemingly endless suburban streets littered with zombies or blocked with wrecked and abandon traffic, onto a wide, four lane highway, where the abandon wrecks had been pushed to the side of the road altogether. They saw headlights approach from the rear then a black van passed them by, headed north, towards the hospital.

  “I think we finally made it!” Matt’s voice was pure exhausted joy.

  As the bus followed the highway northbound, David and Susan came to the front and peered out the window. The line of abandoned vehicles pushed to the left shoulder of the road stretched as far as they could see, but now, interspersed with the vehicles they noticed the stiff and awkward bodies of dead zombies also pushed to the roadside. Here and there the road
was stained with the remains of …something, ground to mush by what ever had plowed the roads. To the right were a series of rolling, grass covered hills, and up there they could see a row of spotlights, spaced every few hundred feet for at least a mile, sweeping the highway below. Ahead, there was a branch off from the main highway, eastbound, between two spotlights. The black van turned there.

  “I think we should follow the van.” Matt said. “That road leads to the hospital campus.” Matt looked in his rearview mirrors. “There are more vehicles coming behind us.” The headlights grew closer in the mirror, until they were just a few car lengths behind the bus.

  “It’s an army Humvee.” David called from the rear window. The Humvee moved alongside them, creeping up until it was parallel with the main door. Matt looked over to see the driver of the Humvee staring back at him. Matt had to fight every urge not to slam on the brakes and turn around right there. Wherever there was the Army, there was trouble. But the Humvee driver waved at him in a casual, almost friendly manner then sped ahead without another look back. The Humvee turned at the intersection the van had used, and the bus was just seconds behind. The steep road climbed to nearly the crest of the first hill. As they climbed, they could see the spotlights to either side of them were mounted on the back of Humvees. A soldier manned the spotlight, while two more either stood outside, or rested in the vehicles. But they gave the bus only a passing glance. The incline of the road became nearly level, and ahead the road weaved its way through a vast expanse of small, grassy hills. The sun was over the edge of the mountains now, and by its crisp glow they could make out vehicles of every make and size scattered about the grassy expanse. They could see three large bonfires blazing, as well as dozens of smaller cooking fires. People milling about in the thousands, most in small groups huddled near the fires. As they wound slowly up the road, they saw men women and children of all ages, families who had come here seeking medical attention, food, and safety. Matt noticed that most of the adults were either armed, a within arms distance of a weapon. A Humvee passed them, going back the way they had come, no doubt a patrol.

  “I guess we just park anywhere.” Susan said.

  “I want to get closer to the hospital. We need to find a doctor.”

  “Why don’t we ask somebody?” David said. Matt brought the bus to a halt. He opened the door and stepped down. A man wearing Levis and a blue jacket, with a shotgun resting on his shoulder stepped up.

  “You can’t park in the street.” He said.

  “I know.” Matt said. “We are looking for a doctor. Our friend has been shot.” The man gave him an odd look.

  “Shot huh?” he sounded as if he didn’t believe Matt. “None of you been bitten by one of them dead fucks?”

  “No.” Matt said. “We haven’t run into too many of them. But when we were getting some gas, some looters attacked us, and my friend was shot. Can you point us to a Doctor?”

  “Continue up the road. They have the main parking lot turned into their triage area.”

  “The parking lot?” Matt said incredulously.

  “Lots of people have been wounded, mostly gunshot or bit. You sure your friend hasn’t been bit?” He was beginning to make Matt uneasy.

  “I’m positive he hasn’t been bit. Just shot.” Matt climbed back aboard the bus. “Thank you.” he said, then closed the door. He looked back and saw David had taken Zack’s assault rifle and moved into a position to cover Matt had things turned ugly there. It saddened Matt that a fifteen year old boy who just weeks ago had been a star athlete for his school, was now becoming a hardened warrior. He should have been thinking about getting his driver’s license, or his first piece of ass, not wondering if he would live to see the next day.

  For the millionth time, Matt prayed. Around the time he discovered that the plague caused you to become one of the walking dead, he had begun to doubt the existence of God. But he still prayed.

  “That guy was starting to make me nervous.” David said.

  “Me too.” Matt said. “He kept asking if any of us had been bit by one of the zombies.”

  The yellow school bus continued up the weaving road, and the congestion of people and parked vehicles actually became worse. Everywhere they looked, there were vehicles and people. Some of the vehicles had been there so long that tents, and lean-tos had been attached to them. Another military Humvee came down the road, followed by a pick-up truck, half a dozen men sitting in the back, clutching military rifles.

  “Those guys weren’t army.” David said. “But they were on patrol with the soldiers in the Humvee.”

  “It seems they run things a bit differently up here.” Matt said. “Nobody has even asked us about our guns.”

  A trio of helicopters passed overhead, a pair of old Huey’s and one AH-64D Apache, headed east toward the mountains.

  Eventually they emerged from the sea of metal and humanity onto the main parking lot. An Army Humvee was parked to the side of the road, and two soldiers in full body armor, clutching M-16s guarded the way. Matt brought the bus to a halt and opened the doors as one of the soldiers stepped to them.

  “This area is restricted to injured and medical personnel.” the soldier said dryly. His eyes were bloodshot from too little sleep, and his patience had been lost long ago.

  “We have an injured man aboard.” Matt said.

  “Is he a bite victim?” the soldier asked, suddenly interested.

  “No. He’s been shot.”

  “Ok, pull ahead and off to the side of the road please.” the soldier stepped back, and Matt closed the door. He heard the soldier calling to someone and pointing towards the bus. Matt eased ahead fifty feet and pulled the bus to the side of the curb. To the left was the parking lot, the blocky white hospital beyond it. To the right, the lawn swept gently down to the encampment of steel and flesh below. Matt killed the engine to the bus by disconnecting the wires Frank had twisted together, grabbed his rifle, and opened the doors.

  “Lets go take a look around.” Matt said and he and David exited the bus.

  Susan knelt beside Zack. His face was ghostly pale, and he trembled as if cold. Sweat beaded his forehead, and although not as watery, his breath still sounded labored. Susan gently stirred him. Zack’s eyes snapped open, and he weakly clawed for his rifle.

  “Easy.” Susan said, laying his arm across his chest. “We are at the hospital.” she said.

  “We made it?” Zack smiled.

  “I told you we would.” she said, squeezing his hand. “Matt and David just went to find a doctor. You’re going to be ok.” Zack let out a raspy sigh of relief and sank back onto the seat. Susan looked back to her Mom. She was staring blankly out the window. Susan walked back and sat in the seat in front of her mother. One look at her was almost enough to cause Susan to burst into fresh tears. Her hair was disheveled, her eyes swollen and bloodshot from crying. Her face seemed to sag from her skull. She looked…hollow.

  “How are you doing?” she asked her Mother.

  “I don’t know.” Sharon said robotically. She turned her head slowly to look at Susan. “Why?” she asked, her voice cracking. “Why?” Sharon’s eyes filled with tears, and she lowered her head and began crying anew. Susan found that she was crying again as well. She turned away, wiping her eyes, breathing deeply to choke back the sobs. She had to remain strong. She had too! Her Father was dead. There was nothing she could do about that. But he had died trying to get his family to safety. She could not let his death be in vain. She was going to see them all to safety. As she fought back the tears she made a silent vow.

  Father, I swear you death will not have been for nothing. We will survive.

  “I swear it.” she said softly as the last sob escaped her. She wiped her eyes, and headed for the front of the bus.

  Matt stood on the sidewalk, his assault rifle in both hands above his head, and stretched. It felt so good. His muscles had grown stiff and sore after being behind the wheel all night. The sun had just come up, and the cool mornin
g air was refreshing. He continued stretching, his back popped several times and he sighed with a relaxed pleasure.

  “Better than sex.” he said.

  “What’s that?” Susan stood behind him, her father’s rifle in her hand. Matt looked at David, who just smiled back at him. Before Matt could say anymore, the soldier came around the front of the bus, followed by a middle-aged man in a white doctors robe, the plain blue uniform, and a pair of stethoscopes around his neck. They could see that the doctor’s robe and uniform were stained with blood.

  “You have an injured man aboard?” the doctor asked Matt. The doctor’s hair was a frazzled mop, and his eyes were sunken, bloodshot pits, reflecting the horror he had witnessed these past few weeks. His shoulders were slumped with exhaustion.

  “Yes. This way.” Matt ran back aboard the bus.

  “Has he been bitten by one of the creatures?” the Doctor asked.

  “No.” Matt said, again. How many times did he have to reassure these people that Zack had not been bitten? “He was shot.” Matt stood near Zack’s head while the doctor knelt beside him. Zack had slipped into unconsciousness again. Susan and David stood a few feet behind the doctor, near the entrance.

  “Where has he been shot?” the doctor asked.

  “In his left arm and side.” Matt said.

  The doctor patted Zack’s face lightly. “Wake up. Wake up.” He said. Zack’s eyes opened. “Relax.” the doctor said. “I am a doctor. I am here to help. Do you understand?” the doctor sounded as if he were talking to a child.

  “Yes.” Zack was barely audible.

  “Shh. Save your strength. I need to look at your wounds.” This time Zack merely nodded in response. The doctor quickly unwrapped Zack’s arm and examined it.

  “Flesh wound. The bullet went straight through.”

  “We know.” Matt said. “That’s the bullet that went into his side.” The doctor looked at him.

  “What caliber of gun was he shot by?” the doctor asked.

  “5.56 mm.” Matt replied. “An M-16.”

  “Who shot him?” Matt looked away, giving David and Susan sharp glances.