Deadrise 2: Deadwar (20 page)
Zack turned his attention from the beauty of the earth and his torment to the controls of the Krylok attack shuttle he piloted. He tapped a destination into the autopilot and then eased back into the customized chair. He had ripped out the original seat built for the small, insectile frame of the Krylok and replaced it with a comfortable leather chair. The shuttle had been his home, haven and base of operations for the past eight and a half months as he traveled the globe, always staying one step ahead of the Krylok who constantly hunted him. Despite all their problems, the Krylok still devoted a pair of attack shuttles to search for him. Zack had figured out how to disconnect his ship from the Krylok holo-tracking network and while this made him invisible to their sensors, it also made them invisible to his own.
In his travels, he had spotted thousands of small enclaves like Rainbow Lake, scattered across the backwoods and hidden mountain passes of the world. Most were little more than a few dozen people huddled together for survival, and few had lasted the winter much less thrive as Rainbow Lake had. He'd not been back to visit the community since last summer but he communicated with David regularly via encrypted satellite transmissions. He also kept his eye on them, watching from above like some demonic guardian angel ready to inform them of any large-scale threat that should arise.
The nearest community to Rainbow Lake was Hill Air Force Base. It housed a population of several thousand people, and was actively engaged in the war against the Krylok, having destroyed two attack shuttles. The Krylok sent no more shuttles to engage them, and they didn’t use a city buster because they wanted the humans, weapons, jet fighters and weapons systems to be looted from the base. But the Humans were taking it to the Krylok and their minions, clearing out all of Ogden, Roy, and a few of the smaller communities in between. They were even in the process of repopulating key sectors for the purposes of farming, agriculture and manufacturing. But the Krylok had by no means relented. They still kept a shuttle far behind the lines, which housed a trio of alien monsters. These three had nearly thirty Sentinels at their disposal, who were constantly engaged in acts of sabotage, infiltration and terrorism. Furthermore, the Krylok and the Sentinels were gathering two giant hordes of zombies; one in Brigham City, the other in North Salt Lake, both over ten thousand dead strong. When they finally marched on Hill Air Force Base, Zack had his doubts as to the Humans ability to survive the onslaught of fifty thousand walking dead. He also suspected the Krylok had bred a Slugpod somewhere in the mountains north of HAFB, near Brigham City. With that the Krylok could create an army of Sentinels, implanting hundreds if not thousands of human captives with slugs. And sooner or later they would come upon a genetic match that would result in a Hybrid, just like Zack. But would this Hybrid retain its Humanity, or would it become a killing machine for its Krylok Masters? And what if the new Hybrid appeared more human, maybe completely human and able to infiltrate strongholds like HAFB and Rainbow Lake, wreaking havoc from within?
An old Krylok memory came to him, recalling the Overlords own genetic experiments with the slugs. Not only had it been trying to create a human hybrid for infiltration, he had also been experimenting with animal implantation. It wouldn’t work on all animals, only carnivorous predators in particular. In the vast majority of cases, the subject animal suffered a horrible death but on very rare occasions, the slug would bond with the animal, mutating it into a hybrid of some sort: vicious, bloodthirsty monsters that existed only to hunt and kill. Even worse, the Krylok had found it extremely difficult to exert any sort of dominant will over them, and often as not they turned on their creators. So the experiments had been halted. But it was possible that slugs could escape into the wild. If that were to happen, who knew what sort of monstrosities would be unleashed?
In other parts of the western United States Zack had observed other emerging human settlements. He observed few places of morality and compassion, Rainbow Lake being one of them. Most communities quickly learned that it was easier and safer to horde weapons and supplies and then enslave the weaker communities, forcing them to work and labor for barely enough food to survive. Without the trapping of the old civilization, there was no need to abide by the rules that governed it. Freedom? Human Rights? Decency? These were forgotten concepts in most places that until only a year ago called itself the civilized world. It was now the law of the jungle, survival of the fittest. The strong ruled the weak and the weak got fucked. But as with every other place Zack would see around the globe, the peasants would choose to live in squalor and suffer abuse and torment at the hands of the human predators in their midst rather than face the horrors of the zombie hordes out in the abandoned cities.
A community of militant white supremacists approximately two thousand strong had taken refuge in Sun Valley and had been pillaging Ketchum and the surrounding communities regularly. Calling themselves the Aryan Nation of God, they proscribed to their own brand of fire and brimstone Christianity, which, along with a structured Military hierarchy and lifestyle served as the core of their civilization. It was there that Zack also observed something that would sadly be found around the world…Slavery. Only the whites were considered Gods children by the Aryan Nation of God, every other color on the human rainbow lesser creatures to be possessed and used like cattle.
Lake Tahoe, Nevada had been co-opted by ruthless Russian mobsters, secured and fortified. The Russian mob boss, apparently gone insane, now called himself King of Tahoe, and had assigned medieval titles to his subordinates. Despite the insanity, his crime family played along, and the Kingdom of Tahoe was born. Any refugees present had been inducted into a form of indentured slavery. The kingdom survived on farming, cattle ranching, hunting and fishing.
Remnants of the US Army had secured several bases in North Dakota, Montana and Washington State, as well as several small towns surrounding each. Under the command of the iron-fisted General Irvin Caruthers, a brutal military dictatorship was slowly forming. The bases were spread across three states and hundreds of miles, but the land was heavily forested and easily defendable against zombie drones. The people were little more than slaves, pawns to be moved about and sacrificed as the General saw fit, but for most even that was better than the teeming hordes of zombies that awaited them out in the wasteland that used to be the civilized world.
In Seattle, a large section of the downtown waterfront had been cleared of zombies, secured and fortified by several street gangs, unified under "Papa" Leroy, leader of the largest and deadliest gang in the city. They had stacked cars, blown overpasses and freeway ramps, even demolished buildings to wall off their section of the city in order to keep the millions of zombies at bay. The perimeter was heavily patrolled, and one portion or another was constantly under attack by zombies and Sentinels. In the time Zack had spent observing this community, he witnessed several raiding parties of Freebooters and salvagers heading into the Seattle sprawl on land as well as sea.
Here on the coast, sea raiders were prevalent; modern day pirates, they cruised the inner bays of the Puget Sound raiding the coastal communities of the SeaTac sprawl. Once their holds were full, they returned to the safety of the city, AKA “Leroy’s Place” as it had come to be called by the locals, to barter their plunder away living the good life for a few days before heading back out to do it all over again. Here, slavery was not only legal, but also lucrative. A functioning, thriving community, albeit a feudal and brutal one, had been established here, and the demand for slave labor was everywhere.
Down the entire length of the west coast ocean raiding was the preferred method of Freebooters and salvagers. The pirate towns and coves scattered from Seattle to San Diego were too numerous to count, as were the various pirate factions, so Zack didn’t bother. However there were several major ports and enclaves that stood out among the rest, regional powers that held sway over the lesser communities in their area. Without a doubt the naval powers in San Francisco and San Diego were the two largest on the west coast. The Southern fleet, based out of Coronado Naval Base and under the command of Admiral Lee Hackman, had done their best to uphold their duty, but it had been a losing battle as millions of zombies assaulted the base from all sides. The Navy had been forced to retreat to San Clemente and San Catalina islands, where they now conducted raids south into Mexico and as far north as Santa Barbara. Just beyond Santa Barbara was Point Conception, the unofficial boundaries of the Southern Navy. The waters of northern California belonged to the pirates of San Francisco.
Alameda Naval Base in San Francisco Bay had been under the command of Admiral Tyler Williams. While the cities of the Bay Area had rapidly fallen, the islands became the home to thousands of refugees, and all of them quickly fell under control of Admiral Williams’ fleet. Unfortunately for many, the Admirals sanity had cracked along with civilization, and he quickly shed all semblances of a United States Naval Officer and instead transformed into Lord William, the Pirate King. He had a fleet of US navy ships and a few thousand trained army soldiers to back him up. He proclaimed sovereign right over the entire Bay Area, and simply killed anyone who disrespected his authority or his title. His empire was based out of the islands known as the Three Ladies (Alcatraz Island, Angel Island State Park and the Treasure Island Naval Station.) Treasure Island was where King Willy made his residence. He kept a representative and a couple hundred troops to back them up at both Alcatraz and Angel Island, just to impose his authority.
Angel Island State Park was now the home to over two thousand squatters, fishermen, freebooters and pirates while Alcatraz was a trade hub for pirates and whatever other scum drifted in. The only law was Lord William's law. Human life was simply another commodity to be bought, sold, used and discarded like anything else.
Zack was pulled from his musings by the pinging of an alarm on the main control panel. A Krylok attack shuttle in this sector of orbit had made visual contact with him. They had snuck right up on him! He cursed himself for daydreaming. It was a weakness he couldn’t afford. He was not only the ultimate predator…he was the ultimate prey. Always hunted. He could not let his guard down for a single second. A wave of weariness washed through him. He would need to feed soon.
It had been too long.
But right now he would have to elude his pursuer. Switching the controls to manual he rolled his craft into an arcing dive into the atmosphere, pushing the engines as hard as he dared. Checking the sensors, he saw the pursuer had began to angle toward him, but Zack pushed the engines even harder, breaking MACH 5. Streaking like a comet across the sky, sonic booms crashing in its wake, Zack arced his craft around the curve of the planet, deep into a heavy cloud cover somewhere over the Mid-Atlantic, out of range of both sight and sensor of the pursuing craft. His reptilian jaws spread into the best semblance of a smile they could physically conjure and he began running through his memories of Central Europe, deciding where might be the best place to hide…
CHAPTER 25
Friday, March 8, 2002
Rainbow Lake, UT
10:45 AM
The ground was still covered with snow, the air cold and the sky grey and cloudy, but as Matt stood out on the rear deck of the Main House, he could feel spring just over the horizon: A loosening of his joints, a fragrance just edging into the air, a softening of the snow pack which would turn into a runoff, all telltale signs of spring’s eminent return. And he couldn’t wait. It had been a depressing winter whose gloom had settled in with the falling snow and covered the small community like a heavy wool blanket. The people of Rainbow Lake were well organized, easily feeding, clothing and housing all of their residents in relative luxury, and they had little to do but think about all that had transpired; the Deadrise, the loss of family and friends, the collapse of civilization all weighed heavily them. Pvt. Wilcox' suicide last Thanksgiving had not been the last…
On the bright side, their numbers had swelled to over seven hundred people. Most had arrived in shock, half frozen and malnourished. They had been eagerly welcomed into the fold of Rainbow Lake. They had expanded into all of the mansions and cabins that surrounded the lake and almost one hundred people had relocated down to the farms of Kittewa. Some were even talking of moving into the small cattle towns that surrounded Mountain View.
The Militia had expanded to one hundred, with most able-bodied men and teenage boys age sixteen and above serving proudly in defense of humanity and the community, which the civilian population had taken to calling
Haven.
In addition, three officers from HAFB had been assigned to General Jenkins to help train and lead the Militia squads, which was good, because Jenkins had some big plans for the spring and summer. Salvage crews had been going into Rock Springs WY all winter, bringing back gasoline and diesel fuel, kerosene, coal, lumber, canned and dry goods, textiles, clothing, blankets, medicine, candies and a thousand other items, both necessity and luxury, by the trailer full. They were unhampered by zombies, as most had frozen solid in the winter cold.
Rock Springs had been good to them, but that resource would soon be drying up, and Jenkins had his sights set on Salt Lake City. Matt could see a gleam in the General’s eye when he spoke of it, as if it were some fabled ruin filled with ancient treasures, waiting to be plundered. It brought a smile to Matt’s face. He’d hated Jenkins guts when he first met him last summer, but today he considered the arrogant, bulling son-of-a-bitch a brother.
“Excuse me, sir?” Matt turned to see a fresh-faced kid, no more than seventeen years of age, clad in standard fatigues. Private Adams was his name. He was a whiz with computers, so he had been assigned to David and the newly promoted Captain Jordan.
