Free Deadrise by Steven R. Gardner Page A

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 morning 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.
    "Easy my friends." the doctor said with a tired smile. "I know what is going on in the city; nothing but zombies and madmen, and the innocent victims that fall prey to them. We've treated many gunshot wounds these past weeks."
    "We were just trying to fill our gas tank." David said.
    "No need to explain." the doctor repeated, turning back to Zack. He opened his shirt, looking at the bandage they had wrapped. With steady hands he unwrapped it.
    "Good work." he said absently, as if to himself. "You probably saved his life." He set the bloody pad aside and bent closer to look at the wound. He probed it, causing it to begin bleeding again and producing a scream of pain from Zack.
    "You see the bubbles?" he pointed. "The bullet has nicked the lung. If we do not remove the bullet and stop the bleeding, he will drown in his own blood." The doctor pulled himself wearily to his feet.
"So what now?" Susan asked.
"We take him over to surgery and they will remove the bullet and stop the bleeding." The doctor left the bus.
"STRETCHER!" they heard him call.
"That guy looked like he hadn't slept in a month." Susan said.
"He probably hasn't." Matt answered. The soldier who had first