“You had no idea the attack was coming?” The Captains tone was accusatory.
Jenkins got a smile out of the Captain trying to taunt him. “None at all. Just trying to help out my fellow frontliners.”
“You and your companions were in an awful hurry to get out of Park City. And not a moment too soon it seems.”
“The only reason we stopped in Park City was to get medical help for our friend.”
“Still no sign of him. It was a hunting party searching for him that tipped us off to the attack. They reported hundreds of zombies moving through the forest just a couple of miles from the city. It was rough, mountainous terrain so they must have been herding them there for some time. The Apache gunship in the area went for a look and was shot down by a missile fired from within the zombie horde.”
“An Alpha.” Jenkins commented.
“The latest report says there are at least six of them…”
“How are the perimeter defenses holding?” Jenkins asked.
“Solid. The terrain is not suitable for the zombies. The Alphas are doing most of the damage, trying to punch holes for the deadfucks to spill in.”
“What about the troops at Kimball Junction? When we first encountered Alphas they were going really hard at the Tank’s and APC’s; commanding them for their own use.”
“So you did have more information after all.” The amusement could be heard in the Captains voice.
“Stop playing word games!” Jenkins barked into the radio. “I’m trying to help you save lives!” The Captain didn’t respond for several seconds.
“Kimball Junction has not been attacked. But we will take what you said into consideration.”
“We were well defended at the U.” Jenkins said. “Air support, tanks, flamethrowers, mortars, grenades…But they still got in. Those fucking Alphas got into the base through the sewer system and started wreaking hell in our back yard.”
“The sewer system? We hadn’t considered that possibility. We didn’t think them that cunning.”
Jenkins got a good laugh out of that. “Cunning? They’re predators, and we are their prey.”
“What can you offer in the way of fighting men?” The Captain asked.
“Me and my people are tired Captain. Fighting is all we’ve been doing since this shit began. Fighting for our lives every single day.”
“So you are a deserter.” The Captain had called him that when they first met. It had angered Jenkins then and it angered him now.
“Like I told you before I’m a survivor. All of us are survivors. Besides, most the people with me are civilians, not soldiers.”
“You are a soldier Sgt. Jenkins. A Ranger.” Jenkins didn’t answer, and Matt could see the Captains word’s having an effect on Jenkins.
“Don’t listen to that son of a bitch Jenkins. You did your duty. Your place is with us. We are partners, remember?” Matt said.
“You have first hand experience in battling these creatures,” The Captain came over the radio. “You’ve seen the Alphas fight. You know something of their tactics. We need you here Sgt. Jenkins. Not out on the front line fighting deadfucks but here at Command.”
Nearly a minute of silence passed, and Jenkins used this time to examine the warring emotions in his gut. He was Partner’s with Matt. He was needed here. This was his future. Ron, Zack, and Susan and David’s father, Sharon’s husband, Frank, had died to get here. When he looked at the collected faces here watching him with hope and expectation to keep them safe he knew that this was his family. They had wakened within him something he though buried beneath all the horrors he’d witnessed in the past six months. But then when he thought about the Captains words, they too stirred him. He had sworn an oath of loyalty upon entering the Army. The military had been the wife and children he never had. How could he turn his back on that now? Especially when they needed him.
“Sgt. Jenkins? This is General Parker. Do you copy?” The Generals voice was deep and hard as nails.
“Go ahead Sir.” Jenkins showed him the respect he hadn’t shown the Captain.
“Soldier, I order you to report back here for duty at once! I know you have a helicopter so I’ll expect you shortly.” Something about the Generals tone of voice, as if he dared Jenkins to defy him sat with Jenkins wrong. In that instant, his loyalties were placed in priority.
“With all due respect sir I no longer take orders. As far as I’m concerned my military service ended when the U and Fort Douglas fell. I’m not a deserter General, I’m a survivor.”
“I see. Well then perhaps I could appeal to your mercenary nature.”
“I’m listening.” Jenkins said.
“Name your price.” The General said.
“Just like that?” Jenkins was surprised.
“We are in a desperate time Sgt. Jenkins. While I have no doubt about my Militia’s ability to defend the city against an army of zombies the Alphas are a whole new enemy. We heard scattered reports about them during the siege of Fort Douglas but you and your companions are the only ones who can give us hard information about them. Your presence is needed here in Command Sgt. Jenkins. So I say again, name your price.” Jenkins put down the radio and looked at his companions.
“What do you think?” He asked. Matt could see the indecision in his face.
“It shouldn’t take more than a day or two.” Matt said. “And you won’t be in the fighting.”
“And if anything should go wrong I can just jump in the bird and get the hell out of there?” It sounded too good to be true.
“Didn’t you see enough back at the U?” Jennifer asked, amazed that he was even considering going back.
“I’m not just doing it for them I’m doing it for us.” Jenkins said, gesturing to include everyone in the room. “If Park City should fall they’ll get to us sooner or later.”
“And they are going to pay him for helping.” Susan said. She thought Jenkins was a chauvinist asshole, but like Matt had told her, he was smart, resourceful, and good to have around in a fight. She didn’t want to lose him, even for a couple of days, but if it was going to get them more supplies, and he was going to be relatively safe, she was for it.
“I’ll be there.” Jenkins said into the radio. “But there are a few conditions I want to lay out.”
“I’m listening.” General Parker said.
“First of all, I’m no longer in the military. So I won’t be ordered around and snapping to attention or any of that bullshit. Second, I’m free to leave whenever I choose. And third, I want my birds fuel tanks topped off and the equivalent of one ton of food in trade credit and two hundred gallons of diesel fuel. None of these conditions are negotiable. Did you copy that General Parker?”
“I copy Sgt. Jenkins, and agree to all of your terms. How soon can I expect you?”
“In less than an hour.” He was surprised at how quickly the General had agreed to his terms. They must be clueless in Park City.
“Report to me as soon as you arrive. Parker out.”
“I don’t want any of you going with me.” Jenkins said. “No one else can fly the chopper and if anything should happen to me you would be stuck there. And you would only be taking up valuable cargo space in the chopper.”
“You stay in contact.” Matt said. “If anything happens and you find yourself stuck there we’ll come and get you.”
“I know you will…” Jenkins said and patted Matt on the shoulder. “But nothing is going to happen to me. They are going to repel this attack and in a couple of days I’ll be back.”
Jenkins made his way to the chopper without any further delay. They all watched him go in silence, blinking away the dust kicked up by his takeoff…
Chapter 38
Monday, June 25, 2001
Rainbow Lake, UT
1:37 PM
Zack smelled death on the air; fresh blood and the sweet hint of entrails. It caused him to salivate uncontrollably as his hunger became agony. He must feed! The energy exerted to reach Ra
inbow Lake so quickly followed by healing himself after being shot had tapped his already drained reserves. If he did not feed, his accelerated metabolism would quickly begin to consume his body’s reserves and given long enough he might literally melt off his bones!
I must feed!
The scent of fresh blood came to him again. The wind was blowing in from the west. When Zack had first arrived at Rainbow Lake early this morning he had come upon the house on the far side of the lake. He had observed it from a discreet distance, seeing that the grounds were well patrolled. He had smelled the scent of death from that house then, and he had almost been overcome with the urge to feed right then, but finding the cabin had been his highest priority.
I must feed!
With a snarl he came down from his resting place in a tree near the lake and dove into the water. He found swimming came naturally to him. He moved through the water with the ease of an eel and his slime slick body gave him reduced surface tension, allowing him to swim five times the speed of a normal human. And he could see remarkably well underwater, almost as if he had goggles on. And he could hold his breath for several minutes, which he did now and dove deep under the surface, swimming for the west side of the lake…
The swim refreshed him, cooling the burning hunger to a manageable level. But he must feed soon. He exited the water into the forest one hundred yards south of the house. He stayed low to the ground and kept behind cover as he advanced. Up ahead the trees opened onto the clearing of the yard. His psychic sense suddenly flashed and up ahead he saw two drones step out of the trees. They were both naked and both looked as if their hearts had been removed and the chest cavity left gaping open. Their movements were slow and stiff and Zack could sense they had been dead for some time.
‘Back!’
His telepathic command sent them stumbling back into the forest. He looked around, probing out with his psychic radar and sensing over a dozen more drones within a fifty-foot radius. Why were they just standing out here in the forest? He continued on, the edge of the trees just twenty feet ahead. At the tree line he went low to the ground, peering in upon the yard where a bonfire burned in the center. He spotted two sentries on the third floor of the house and another walking around front. All three sentries wore white hooded robes and carried AK-47 assault rifles. He dared not try and prowl across the yard in the day. And his hunger couldn’t wait until it was dark.
Just then he felt the psychic probe of the Master reach him, read him. Anger filled him. He was not here to do the Masters bidding! Red rage filled his mind and the Masters touch was lost. Matt seethed with anger now. Combined with his hunger he felt himself on the cusp of a berserker rage.
FEED! I MUST FEED NOW!
It took what little willpower he had left to keep from charging across the yard and attacking the nearest sentry.
Movement from the house caught his eye. A lone man, wearing a white hooded robe made his way across the lawn toward the lake. Zack saw that the boathouse was his destination. The small structure was no bigger than a normal garage but built right onto the water. Without a backward glance Zack made his way back to the lake. He entered the water less than thirty yards down shore, slipping in as silent as a snake. A few powerful strokes and he was under the wooden dock and inside the boathouse. The water was less than six feet deep here and Zack was able to stand. His head silently broke the surface and his senses probed the room. A small ski boat was in the water next to the dock. The man had climbed in the boat and was working with tools. He whistled softly as he worked; an old tune that nibbled on the back of Zack’s brain.
Zack moved through the water as silent as a fish, down the length of the dock and to the back of the boat. The man’s scent filled the air, a tantalizing aroma that caused his hunger to boil over, unstoppable in its need. He moved quickly along the side of the boat, seeing the man hunched forward, his back exposed. With the speed and power of a gator he lunged, wrapped the man in a bear hug and yanked him out of the boat into the water. He pulled the man underneath, squeezing until he felt his ribs pop like twigs. The man took an involuntary gasp of pain, filling his lungs with water, causing him to convulse in agony. Zack released the bear hug and grabbed the man’s head in both hands. He pulled the face out of the water, opening his mouth wide and bending close. The bone tipped proboscis lanced out from its pocket beneath his tongue, spearing through the drowning mans eyeball and into his brain. The sweet, sweet ecstasy of feeding filled Zack, melting away his hunger, replacing it with strength and energy with each slurp. The man’s convulsions faded to minor twitching and Zack sent his siphon deeper into the skull, probing for the last drops of nectar. Finally Zack pulled away, the bloody proboscis retracting into his throat. Zack let the body slide into the water.
As his hunger subsided the madness that had taken him faded and the reality of what he had just done struck him… He had just murdered an innocent man and eaten his brains. When he had fed before he had been under the complete mental domination of the Master, unable to resist. But this time he acted of his own free will. He had been in the grip of madness brought on by hunger, but he himself had made the decision to feed. There was no denying in now; he truly was a monster. Any shred of humanity he may have had left was destroyed once he made the conscious decision to feed. A profound sorrow gripped him, unlike anything he had felt so far. But it quickly faded as he felt the presence of the Master fill his mind.
‘Goood. Feeding makes you strong.’ Zack did fill an unbridled strength coursing through him, making him more aware of his new body and abilities. This vitality also sharpened his mind, reminding him that the thing that spoke in his mind was the monstrous fiend that brought this hell upon him.
“You are NOT my Master!” Zack whispered sharply, pushing the Master from his mind. But the beast would not go unchallenged and Zack felt his mental claws dig in.
‘HOW… DARE… YOU… RESIST ME!’ The voice was like a gonging bell in his head, the pain assaulting Zack from all sides, but he was growing more comfortable with his newfound abilities and he deflected the pain with a mind shield and sent it echoing back to its source. He heard the Master gasp with surprise and pain, and his icy mental tentacles slipped away, clearing Zack’s mind.
“You stay out of my mind.” Zack spoke aloud but sent it telepathically as well. “I am not your slave. My name is Zack Thomas.”
‘I created you supplicant, so shall I destroy you.’
Zack looked about the small boathouse realizing he had forgotten where he was. He looked down at the body floating facedown in the water next to him. He had to get away from here before the body was discovered. He took a deep breath and slipped underneath the water, kicking forcefully to propel himself out into the lake.
Where would he go? He knew the Master would be coming for him soon, most likely with a squad of superzombie enforcers. Zack would need to arm himself and if possible, set an ambush. He surfaced some distance away from the boathouse, looking around the lake. The distant sound of a helicopter came to his ears, growing louder until he saw a small helicopter appear over the trees in the southwest corner of the lake. It was the same helicopter that Matt had been aboard at the cabin. Zack narrowed his eyes, zooming in on the cockpit of the chopper. The pilot was the only occupant. It was Jenkins. Matt and the others were most likely over there at one of the larger estates. Zack watched as the chopper turned in the direction of Park City and flew away at top speed.
Did he dare try and contact Matt again? They had fired at him once, hitting him right in the chest. But they hadn’t known it was he. Would it have mattered though? His appearance was monstrous, and he was a monster! He’d already killed and fed on two innocent people. But would Matt turn his back on his best friend? Especially when he was in such desperate need of help? Zack knew by going there he might lead the Krylok right to his friends but the instinct for self-preservation was strong within him, amplified by the Krylok Embryo, and he knew that contacting Matt was his best chance of acquiring weapons t
o fight the Master, so that was where he would go. Filling his lungs with air he dove beneath the surface again, swimming for the southwest corner of the lake…
Chapter 39
Monday, June 25, 2001
Park City, UT
1:41 PM
Jenkins was less than two minutes from Park City when the report came over the radio that Kimball Junction was under attack. The Sgt. on location was on the radio, talking to Capt. Sheen.
“We’re being shelled with mortars!” The Sgt.’s voice betrayed his fear.
“Do you have a visual on the shooter?” Capt. Sheen asked.
“We will real soon.” Another voice could be heard in a murmur.. “I’ve just received a new report…a horde of zombies at least five hundred strong has just been spotted by one of the Apache’s. They are about five miles down the canyon and led by two M1A1 Abrams tanks and three troop transport trucks.” Packed with zombies no doubt. Jenkins knew those tanks and transport’s had belonged to the Ft. Douglas Militia. The Kimball Junction report continued.
“The pilot of the Apache reports a small surface to air missile, probably a LAWS rocket, was fired at him. His counter measures managed to evade the missile and he retreated to a safe distance until another Apache can arrive to assist.” There was another pause of several seconds. “Our spotter has a visual on the shooter. It fits the description of an Alpha. Most likely a scout sent ahead to soften us up with mortars and assess our defenses until the main force arrives.”
“Sit tight Sgt. Reeves. I am sending another fifty men out to you as we speak.”
“Copy that Capt. Sheen. Reeves out.”
Jenkins knew it had only been a matter of time before Kimball Junction was attacked. He had flown over it twice this morning and he knew what was there: Four M1A1 Abrams, four Humvees and a platoon of twenty four troops, soon to be seventy four troops with the reinforcements on the way. The transport trucks packed with deadfucks wouldn’t be any problem for the defenders but the Alphas and the tanks they commanded were another story altogether. The Apache’s could go in and take them out but the Alphas were expecting this and had SAMS to keep the aircraft away. It would be up to the tanks and troops at the Junction to hold up their end.
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