He opened his eyes and found himself standing at the window. When had he crossed the room? Had he blacked out? Cold tentacles of fear were writhing in his gut as he looked out the window. Another mental tug pulled his glance up to a forested mountainside. He felt an oily static slowly creeping into his mind and his vision blurred and for a moment he seemed to be standing out there, on that forested mountainside looking back down at the hospital. He blinked several times and his vision cleared. The mental static leaked out of his brain and he felt one final psychic tug, and saw a flash of those sulfur eyes once again before the presence was gone, merely a faint psychic imprint somewhere out there on the mountain.
It’s out there… Watching me.
Zack was suddenly glad he was alone in the room. Were he to tell anyone what he was experiencing they would have surely though him mad. And maybe he was. Maybe his fever had caused permanent brain delusion? But he didn’t think so. He looked at his hand where the IV had been. The scab was already dried and melting into pink flesh as he watched! He lowered his hand and took several deep breaths.
His stomach rumbled loudly, accompanied by a sharp pang of hunger. He tried to remember the last time he had eaten. It had been on the bus, a couple hours before they had made that fateful stop for gas and been attacked by rogue soldiers. He had been wounded and Frank had been killed. And that was at least two days ago, or was it three? His stomach rumbled again and he winced at the cramp. He needed food, now.
He walked across the room and opened the door. He stepped out into the hall, immediately catching the attention of a passing nurse.
“Do you need something?” she asked him politely.
“I need food.” He said.
“Where is your IV?” she asked with a frown.
“I took it out. It was burning my hand.”
“You shouldn’t have done that.” She said. “You should have pushed the call button and one of us would have come.”
“I don’t need an IV, I need food.” He said. “I haven’t eaten in days.”
“Sir, lunch is in half an hour. You need to return to your room and I’ll be back in a minute to put another IV in.”
“You are not putting another IV in my hand.” Zack said. “I just need some food. Then I want my clothes. My friends will be here soon to pick me up.”
“Pick you up?” she cracked a smile. “You were only admitted a few hours ago. Now please sir, return to your bed. I’ll see if the doctor will come in and speak to you.”
“I don’t need a doctor.” Zack snapped. “I need some food.” An older nurse approached, coming to assist the less experienced woman.
“Is there a problem?” she asked with a tone of authority that said she was used to being obeyed.
“Mr. Thomas has pulled his IV out.” The younger nurse said. The older woman shot him a lightning bolt glance.
“Mr. Thomas we are trying to help you. You must return to your bed at once.”
“I am not a prisoner here am I?” he asked, suddenly angry and defensive.
“No sir you are not. But you are a wounded man. In case you didn’t notice you have been shot.” Her voice was at the edge of patience.
“I’m sorry.” Zack apologized. What had come over him? He should be lying in bed, waiting to be attended to by one of the nurses instead of being a belligerent asshole in the hallway. “I’m just very hungry. I haven’t eaten in a long time and it’s made me somewhat delusional.”
“You must lie down. You may have torn your wound. Let me do a wound check.” She led him back to his bed, followed by the younger nurse. Zack peeled back the top of his gown and lay back onto the bed. He looked down at the small white bandage on his left ribcage.
“It doesn’t appear to have been bleeding. Now let me see you hand where the IV was.”
“It’s fine.” Zack said. “I don’t mean to be rude but I’m not letting you put another one of those in my hand.” She gave him another sharp look but said nothing. “How long have I been here?” he asked.
“Since about eight o’clock this morning.” He glanced at the clock on the wall. It was noon.
“Did the people who dropped me off say when they would be back?”
“I don’t know. An orderly brought you up from downstairs. And only the doctor has been in to see you.” Zack gave up. She was going to be no help. Without another word she left the room.
Zack closed his eyes, trying to forget his hunger and frustration. Matt and Susan wouldn’t just abandon him here at the hospital. He just had to relax and be patient and they would come see him. Would he tell them the things he was experiencing? Would they believe him? And if they did would they tell the doctor? Zack wasn’t about to tell the doctor. They would subject him to a battery of tests and exams. And what if they found something? Would they quarantine him and do even more hideous experiments on him? Or simply kill him? Now he knew his mind was running wild and he was probably being paranoid but these things he was experiencing; enhanced senses, accelerated healing, psychic flashes, they were real. And as soon as his wounds were examined again the gig was up. He had to get out of this hospital right now! Before he could do anything the door to his room opened and the nurse wheeled in a tray of food.
“This should make you feel better.” She said. She pushed it over his bed and left the room without another word. Zack’s stomach gave a huge rumble and cramped with pain. Escape would have to take the back burner to sustenance. He inspected the food; Turkey sandwich with a green salad, fruit and milk. Zack wolfed it down like a starved dog, barely pausing to breathe let alone taste his food. And to his dismay it was gone too quickly and the ravenous hole in his stomach hardly seemed fed but the painful cramps had subsided.
Zack had just finished eating when the door to his room opened again and Matt and Susan walked in, the younger nurse behind them. Zack’s stomach fluttered with relief. He knew they would come for him.
“Perhaps you can talk some sense into him.” The nurse cast Zack a scolding look.
“How are you feeling partner?” Matt asked as he sat on the edge of the bed.
“I need to get out of this hospital right now.” He told Matt sharply.
“What are you talking about?” Matt looked at him oddly. “You need to take it easy for a couple of days.”
“I can’t stay in this hospital.” Zack said.
“This is nothing like the university.” Susan said.
“That’s not what I mean.” Zack couldn’t bring himself to tell them. “I’m feeling a lot better. I don’t want to stay in the hospital.”
“You look much better that’s for sure.” Matt said. “But you were shot in the side a couple days ago. The bullet nicked your lung. You need to be in the hospital.”
“I know I was shot but it wasn’t as bad as you think. Look.” Zack stood up. Matt and Susan both reached out, expecting him to fall. “I’m Ok!” he said, pushing their hands away. “That’s what I’m trying to tell you.” He walked around the bed and paced the room. “By some miracle the bullet missed anything vital.”
“It hit your lung.” Susan said. “I was holding you down while that doctor was pulling it out of you. That’s why you were coughing up blood, because the bullet nicked your lung.”
“If my lung had been nicked would I be able to breath this well?” Zack took a deep breath. It burned fiercely, searing through the center of his chest but there was no rattle of liquid.
“What has the doctor said?” Susan asked.
“I don’t give a shit what the doctor says!” Zack snapped. “I’m not a fucking prisoner here and I’m leaving…Right now!” He was fuming angry. Why did they have to be so difficult? They were supposed to be helping him. But if he truly wanted their help he would tell them his real reason for wanting out of the hospital.
“What about your clothes?” Susan snapped back. “Are you going to walk out of here in that gown with your ass showing to the world?”
“If that’s what I have to do.” He retorted.
“What the hells wrong with you?” Matt asked him.
“Nothing! I just want to get out of the hospital. I’m sore as hell but I don’t need to be here. I can rest on the bus just as well.” He looked Matt in the eye, squaring his jaw, ready to fight. Matt nodded his head and back down.
“Ok partner. Have it your way. I’ll go get your clothes.” Matt left the room without another word.
“What the hell is wrong with you?” Susan repeated Matt’s question. “We are just trying to help you.”
“I know. And you can help me best by getting me out of this hospital as soon as possible. I’ve recently had some very bad experiences at hospitals.” Zack began to pace the room and Susan left it at that.
Matt returned five minutes later with Zack’s clothes, the nurse and a young, dark-haired doctor wearing wire rim glasses.
“Don’t even start on me!” Zack barked at the doctor. “I’m leaving right now. You cannot hold me against my will.”
“But Mr. Thomas, you are seriously injured.” The doctor said. “We are still waiting for your toxicology work to return. You may have an infection from your wounds.”
“I’ll manage.” Zack took his clothes from Matt, peeled out of the hospital gown and began dressing. The doctor began to protest but Matt cut him off.
“You heard him. As soon as he’s dressed we are out of here. Whatever his bill, we can pay.”
“I wish you well.” The doctor said with a tone of finality. He nodded at Matt then Zack and Susan before leaving the room. The nurse followed in silence
Chapter 24
Sunday June 24, 2001
Park City, UT
12:38 PM
Jenkins sat down at the bar in the hotel lobby. He was unarmed. The hotel had confiscated his weapons when he checked in. In the city you could carry a sidearm at all times but inside the hotel, because of the gambling and drinking and women the house rules were No Weapons. Which was fine because Jenkins had simply come down for a drink and to think about their situation.
In Park City economics, they were filthy rich. Eight tons of food and one ton of luxury items would buy all of them two years of easy living here in Park City. He and Ron had discussed that while sitting at the tariff station. Ron had been against the idea. He was sold on settling at Rainbow Lake.
Jenkins thought of taking his equal share of the goods and going his own way. He could start his own band of freebooters and conduct raids down into Salt Lake City. He owed these people nothing. But it was nothing more that a fleeting idea. He had hardened himself to the horrors of life in a zombie world just days after the plague broke out here in Utah. He had intentionally kept himself distant from everyone. Even Ron, whom he considered the closest thing he had to a friend, would scarcely get a tear out of Jenkins should he fall to the zombies. But for some reason the idea of parting company with these people filled him with uneasiness. Like it or not this rag tag group of survivors was now his family.
So it would be Rainbow Lake. They would head out just as soon as Zack could travel. It was no more than forty miles to Kittewa, the small farming town that was nestled in the foothills and valley below Rainbow Lake. Jenkins figured since the highway through the mountain pass had been blocked at Kimball Junction for several months the roads would be fairly clear of abandoned vehicles and they would make good time. No more that a couple of hours to Kittewa. From Kittewa there was only one road leading up to the lake, making it very defensible. According to Matt there were a couple dozen houses and cabins on the shore of the lake and in the surrounding forest. Most were uninhabited except for summer and most of the winter when the ski runs were open. There was a good chance that many of the property owners flocked to their hideaways when the crisis first developed. Matt’s friends Adam and Kelly Prescott had done just that, fleeing to their cabin on Rainbow Lake. Jenkins knew from Matt’s description of the place that the cabin would not house all of them. They would have to expand into at least two more houses. And what if they were all occupied?
There was no what if. There was only the enforcement of one’s will.
There he went again, being Mr. Hardass. He lifted his glass and drained the rest of his whiskey. As he sat it down and signaled the bartender for another, Corporal McReedy came and sat next to him at the bar.
“Beer…” Mac said to the bartender.
“What are your plans Corporal?” Jenkins asked.
“First things first. We’re not in the army any longer. You can drop the Corporal and just call me Mac.” They locked eyes. Jenkins saw that Mac was ready to fight over this issue so he let it go. Besides, he was right. They weren’t in the military any longer. They were just survivors like everyone else.
“Ok. Call me Jenkins.” They nodded at each other. “So what are your plans?”
“I plan on surviving.” Mac said flatly. “That’s why I came aboard. I saw a chance to survive.”
“Are you staying here in Park City or going up to the lake?” The bartender returned with their drinks.
“There’s plenty of opportunity here in the city.” Mac took a swill of his beer. “But then again the thought of the lake is so damn appealing; the peace and quiet, and the safety. I’m burned out on fighting zombies. Do you know what I mean?” Jenkins didn’t need to answer with words. The look in his eye and a nod of his head said it all. “I need some downtime.” Mac let out a tight laugh and took a long pull on his beer. Jenkins just sipped his whiskey.
“What about you?” Mac asked.
“You said it all partner.” Jenkins said. He gazed around the bar, surveying the other patrons. On the far side of the room was a table with three freebooters fresh in from the raid. They were loud and boisterous. They were pawing at several young house girls who milled about their table for just such a purpose. Two men sat further down the bar but apart from one another, each mulling their own thoughts in a mug of beer. Other than that the place was empty. It was still early in the day. Many of the would-be patrons were planning raids or sleeping off the previous nights partying. Jenkins again found himself amazed at how…normal everything seemed; The bartender serving drinks and wiping down the bar, the patrons at their tables, the waitresses serving the patrons and the house girls trying to hustle them. Sure, the University had been somewhat similar, but the refugees were for the most part confined to their area of the campus while the military stuck to itself. And the atmosphere had been much more claustrophobic and desperate…But not here. Here it was relaxed… Quiet. One could easily get the impression that the apocalypse hadn’t bothered to touch this part of the world.
Jenkins was turning back to the bar but spun around to the main entrance for a double take. Matt and Susan were walking in and between them was Zack!
“What the hell is this?” Jenkins asked as they walked up. He looked Zack up and down.
“Who are you?” Zack asked. He vaguely remembered Jenkins face through the pain and drug induced fog he’d been in the past few days.
“Jenkins.”
“He’s with us. Don’t you remember him?” Matt asked.
“Barely…Sort of like a dream.” He and Jenkins shook hands.
“I can’t believe your back on your feet. You were only at the hospital for a few hours.” Jenkins said.
“Neither could the people at the hospital. Miracle of luck I guess.”
“It might have been luck but I wouldn’t count on miracle having anything to do with it.” Jenkins said with sarcasm. “What did it cost us?”
“One hundred pounds of canned food…” Matt said. They all got a chuckle out of that. Jenkins directed them away from the bar and selected a table, which they all sat around.
“So what’s our next move?” Matt asked.
“We should stay here for a couple of days and get all the things we’re going to need to survive up at the lake. This is a very big undertaking we’re talking about here, one that will affect the rest of our lives. We can’t go into this half-cocked. We need to have a plan of a
ction. Your friends cabin won’t be able to house all of us. We need to take more houses, preferably a large mansion with several bedrooms. We don’t want to spread ourselves over too wide an area.”
“I’ve been thinking about that as well.” Matt said. “The town of Kittewa had a population of approximately one thousand. I’m wondering how many of them evacuated up to the lake when the plague hit hard?”
“In a small isolated town like that they may have been able to control the plague, just like Park City.” Mac said. “There are plenty of hunters so guns and ammo wouldn’t be a problem. If someone died or a zombie was sighted everyone would know rather quickly and the problem could be dealt with.”
“We can only hope.”
Jenkins noticed that Zack had been paying little attention to the conversation. Jenkins took a sip of his drink and watched him. He appeared to be gazing through the far wall, his eyes far away. Then he looked to Jenkins, noticing how intently he stared at him. It appeared to make Zack uncomfortable.
“I’m going to go outside and get some fresh air.” Zack said suddenly. He came to his feet and walked back outside.
“What’s with him?” Jenkins asked Matt.
“I don’t know. But I can’t believe he’s already up and about after what he’s been through. You should have seen him before we got him to the University. Blood was frothing out of his mouth and bubbling out of his side wound with every breath. His lung had been nicked for sure. The doctor at the U even told us that. And that was only a couple of days ago. Now look at him! His breathing is unlabored and clear. He’s walking around like he’s barely hurt. He’s got more energy than I do.”
“He’s become a wild card, and a danger to us all.” Jenkins looked Matt straight in the eyes.
“What are you saying?” Matt asked, staring back.
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