Ragnarok Rising: The Crossing (The Ragnarok Rising Saga) (43 page)

Staying below the top of the fence, I moved off across the yard and headed for the next yard. It was clear, as well. I peered around the area to make sure it was safe to climb the fence, before going over and into the next yard.
Then I moved over next to the back fence to wait for Randall and Copeland.

Across the alley from us was an apartment building and a business of some sort. Between the two was a narrow grass lane that led to
wards the main road through the center of town. From the looks of it, we might have a better chance of crossing here than we would farther down. It seemed worth a try, anyway.

Scaling the fence, I headed across the alley and up behind the business. I crouched behind a trash dumpster and waited until the other two caught up. Randall gave me a questioning look, but didn't say anything. I wasn't sure how to explain it anyway. It was just another one of my hunches. So far, they ha
d kept me alive. I certainly hoped the trend continued.

Staying low, I moved along the wall of the business and headed down the grassy lane. I stayed alert
for any signs of movement or life. As I reached the front of the building, I crouched down and waited. I took a few deep breaths and peeked out around the building, scanning both directions. There were zombies in the area, but nothing close by.

I started to move across the street when I noticed
a human foot sticking out from behind a box. It wasn't moving and I could see where pieces of flesh were missing. There was no doubt that it belonged to a dead body, but was it a still-moving body was the question. I motioned for the others to stay put and leaned around the boxes, slowly bringing the rest of the body into view.

It had once been a man, but I couldn't guess his age. Part of the face had been eaten away, leaving the left side of the skull exposed and the teeth in plain view. It smelled horrible and I could see that the fingers had been shredded of flesh leaving the bony fingers looking like gruesome claws.

At first, I thought it was just a dead body until it suddenly turned its head and looked right at me. The grey milky eyes zeroed in on me and it opened its mouth revealing a blackened tongue and purple gums. I could see ragged pieces of flesh stuck between the teeth. The talon-like fingers reached out for me and I jumped back out of its range.

I fell onto my butt and brought the pistol up. Before I could fire, it snarled and started scrabbling to its feet. I hesitated, thinking of the kid that I had shot who had been wearing the skin of a zombie. As disgusting as that was, it had kept him alive. At least it had until he ran
into me. I had killed that boy. I kept seeing him in my mind's eye with the face of my youngest son.

I wanted to shoot the thing. I tried to shoot it. My hands shook and I couldn't focus. I knew this was just a zombie, but all I could see was my son's face. I scrambled backwards into the road as it started shuffling towards me, eagerly reaching out to tear into my flesh.

My brain was screaming
shoot
, but I couldn't.

Then Randall stood up and fired into the side of the creature's head. It never even saw him. Instantly, it
dropped to the ground in a heap just a few feet from me. I was sweating and my heart was thundering in my chest. Randall was saying something to me, but I couldn't hear him. I closed my eyes and pressed the heels of my hands into the sockets. I wanted to scream. Still, behind my eyes, all I could see was Evan's face.

My stomach was heaving
like it was about to show me its contents in a particularly violent fashion. I was shaking and thrashing about. I felt like I couldn't stop myself. Suddenly, I realized I wasn't doing it. Moving my hands and opening my eyes, I saw Randall leaning over me and shaking me by the shoulders.

"Grant!" he hissed. "What the hell is wrong with you?"

As suddenly as it began, the panic attack passed. Copeland was checking my pupils and patting my cheek. I took a deep breath and released it slowly. When I had exhaled completely, I was back to normal. Well, what passed for normal with me anyway. Reality rushed back in on me and I remembered the danger we were in. We had to move.

"I'm sorry," I whispered, not sure how to explain it to them. "I don't know what happened."

"Are you alright?" asked Copeland, concern on her face.

"I am now," I replied. "We can't stay here."

"Let's get moving," hissed Randall.

I got shakily to my feet and spat a foul taste out of my mouth. Both Copeland and Randall were looking at me like I w
as out of my mind. I don't know, maybe I was. I took a deep breath and held it a few seconds before releasing. I forced myself to calm down and focus. There wasn't time for me to dwell on what had just happened. I'd have to figure it out later. If we survived until then, that is.

I glanced both directions and noticed a large group of the dead heading our way. I didn't think they had noticed us. At least there wasn't any shrieking or sudden bursts of speed. They were still several blocks away and not an immediate threat. We would be long gone before they arrived. By then, I planned to be well out of sight and behind cover.
There was no sense in waiting around for them.

Turning back towards our destination, I headed off at a quick pace. I glanced back and saw the others were right behind me. We had to cross a street and go between two houses. Both houses had big backyards, but beyond them I could see the back of a large building. It had to be some type of business. If nothing else, we could hide inside for a while.

As we headed into the front yard of one of the houses, I glanced back to the north to check on the dead. They were still making their slow, but steady progress. I slowed briefly as we passed the front porch, but kept going when nothing was moving. I kept my pistol ready and tried to walk quietly as we headed for the backyard. I was glancing around near the back fence when a sudden noise made me come up short.

From my right was a loud thump followed by the cracking of glass. Copeland let out a short cry, but it was
n't loud enough to carry. I spun in time to see the gruesome face of a dead woman drawing back to strike the window again. Her face was a mask of horror, with large chunks taken out of both cheeks and one eye missing. Before she could strike again, I fired twice. The bullets punched through the window, leaving ragged holes with spider web cracks around them.

The zombie froze in mid-swing and stumbled back. It had almost a confused look on its withered features before crumpling to the ground. It was immediately replaced by an even more hellish face. I think
that it had once been male, but there just wasn't enough identifiable features left to tell for certain. It was mostly ragged strips of flesh, and exposed muscle and bone. Before I could fire, it drove itself through the window head first.

The explosion of glass shattered the silence. The high-pitched sound w
ould undoubtedly carry a long distance. The creature fell onto its face, but immediately began struggling to get to its feet. Randall shot it in the back of its head before it had the chance to rise. Rancid blood erupted from the ragged hole in the back of the skull. It reeked of decay and was almost as black as used motor oil, and nearly the same consistency.

From inside the house, I could hear the shuffling sounds of more dead coming towards us. They were attracted by the nois
e of the breaking glass and Copeland's scream. We had no way to know how many would be inside the house, but we definitely didn't have time to stick around and count them. We needed to get out of here before more arrived. We didn't have the firepower or the ammo for a long fight.

"Let's move!" I snapped and shoved them both towards the backyard.

Randall shoved the gate open and headed into the yard. Copeland broke away from me and sprinted towards the back of the yard. I ran backwards and watched the window. The first one to come through the window took a shot to the right side of the head before it even hit the ground. I slammed the gate shut as I ran into the yard, latching it securely. It wouldn't stop the dead from coming after us, but it would slow them down. That's when I heard the scream from behind me.

I spun around to see four zombies emerging from the back of the house and stumble off towards Copeland and Randall. From closer to the fence, I heard the scream again. I turned in time to see two of the dead taking Randall to the ground. Copeland was running from a
Sprinter
that had come out of the small shed at the back of the yard.

Her third blood-curdling scream pierced the air and I could hear it echo off of the back of the building across the yard. All chances of stealth were
now gone. With grim determination, I put away the pistol. As my hands fell upon my rifle, I smiled darkly. The entire exchange of weapons took less than three seconds. The entire tableau around me seemed to slow to a crawl.

I brought the weapon to my shoulder and aimed at the
Sprinter
that was chasing Copeland. My crosshairs zeroed in on the creature's head and I squeezed the trigger without hesitation. I was already turning to engage the next target before my brain registered the sound of the shot. I heard the massive boom as I felt the punch of the recoil in my shoulder. My next shot destroyed the skull of one of the dead that was attacking Randall. All attention was now on me because of the massive report of my weapon. When Beowulf roars, everyone listens.

The four dead that had emerged from the house were now focused completely on me. My third shot destroyed the shoulder of the remaining creature that was attacking Randall, knocking it completely off of him. I brought the weapon around to engage the others before they were close enough to attack me. In four rapid shots, they were all down and silence fell over the area. My ears were still ringing from the fury of Beowulf, but my heart was pounding almost as loud.

The silence reigned supreme for a few heartbeats, before a new sound erupted from around us. It was the chorus of the dead as dozens of
Shriekers
took up the song. They seemed to come from every direction, including from inside the house. It was time to move. We didn't want to be anywhere near this place when they arrived.

Running to where Randall was laying on the ground, I leveled the rifle at his face and looked into his eyes. They were wide open with both shock and fear. There was splatters of gore from the dead, but none of it looked to be his own. I had to be sure, though.

"Are you bit?" I snapped, watching his eyes.

"What?" he stammered, clearly confused.

"Are you
fucking
bit?!" I yelled, anger in my voice.

"I don't think so," he mumbled, looking at his hands and arms.

I couldn't see any obvious bites or bleeding wounds, so I had to take him at his word. I didn't have time to waste. If he couldn't get to his feet, then I was going to have to either leave him or drag him.

"Can you walk?" I asked, calmer.

"Do I have a choice?" he asked, sitting up.

"Not really," I replied, honestly.

"Grant!" called Copeland. "We've got company!"

I turned to see more of the dead trying to force their way through the gate. It was holding, but it wouldn't hold for much longer. We only had a few moments before they would be inside the yard with us and the fight would be on. We were
rapidly running out of time.

"Let's go!" I shouted and headed for the back fence.

Copeland didn't hesitate and immediately followed me. Randall recovered the pistol that he had dropped and got slowly to his feet. The fence was a wooden privacy fence, so I had to climb up onto it to see what was on the other side. Fortunately, there were no dead in the alley. I had to boost Copeland up, but she scrambled over without any trouble.

Randall headed over towards me, still not moving very fast. I could tell that he was shaken and maybe a bit stunned from hitting the ground. The zombie that I had shot in the shoulder was still flopping on the ground and he casually shot it in the head as he walked by.

"Move your ass!" I bellowed. "We don't have time for this shit."

That seemed to make him take notice. He shook his head and headed for the fence. I covered him while he climbed over and waited until I heard him hit the ground on the other side before I sta
rted over, myself. I wasn't quite halfway over when I heard the sound of splintering wood behind me. The dead were coming through the gate. My last glimpse of them before I dropped over the fence was of almost a dozen of them running right at the fence. I only hoped it would stop them when they hit it.

I hit the ground and tumbled over backwards, ending up flat on my back and leaning against my rucksack. I heard the thudding impact of the dead as they hit the fence with tremendous force. They'd been at a full sprint when they struck it and I held my breath waiting to see if it would hold. I let it out in a long sigh when it did.

"We've got to move," I said, getting to my feet.

"Where?" demanded Copeland. "They're coming from every direction."

"Follow me," I snapped, drawing my hammer.

I headed for the back of the large building. I wasn't quite sure what business it was, but the back door looked to be solid.
We would hide inside until the worst had passed us. Then we would continue on our path towards the police station. I just hoped that they didn't surround the building. If they did, then we would be trapped like an animal in a cage. Well, we'd be trapped until they found a way inside. Then we would be dead.