Ragnarok Rising: The Crossing (The Ragnarok Rising Saga) (5 page)

“I won’t let anything happen to him, Wylie,” he promised.

“I know, Chuck,” I replied.

“Besides,” he said, grinning, “I’m more afraid of Karen than I am of you.”

“You should be,” said Elliott, chuckling.

“Yes, he should,” I agreed. “Let’s move.”

I headed back towards my own vehicle with Spec-4 right behind me. Once we were inside, Spec-4 activated the SINCGARS
[8]
radio and waved the handset at Southard. I could see him start working on his own radio. A few seconds later, I heard his voice come out of our speakers.

“917 to 829, do you read?”

“We copy,” replied Spec-4. “Loud and clear.”

“10-4,” said Southard. “We’ll keep our set on, in case you need us.”

“Copy that,” she said, and sat the mike back on the hook.

She nodded at me and smiled.

“Good to go,” she said.

I fired up the engine and let it idle for a moment. I could see Chuck was pointing at things inside the vehicle and talking to Elliott. That was good. Chuck was a good teacher and he’d have Elliott up to speed on the internal workings of the Humvee in no time at all.

“You sure you want to let him drive?” asked Spec-4.

“Yeah,” I said. “He needs to learn and I want my best shots in the turrets in case things turn bad.”

“So you
admit
that I’m a better shot than you are?” she said, grinning wickedly.

“I’m not too proud to admit it,” I said
, returning the grin. “I trust your aim more than my own, most of the time. I think I might be better with a pistol, but not by much.”

“Thank you,” she said, blushing.

“No thanks are necessary,” I replied. “It’s a fact.”

“Do you think he can keep up with some of your more insane driving methods?” she asked, grinning
again.

“It’s like in football,” I said, shifting into gear. “I’ll make the hole and provide cover. He just has to follow me through it.”

Pulling through the ditch, I pulled back onto the highway. Moments later, Elliott pulled in right behind me. I drove slowly, looking for the driveway that led to the farmhouse. It was only about fifty yards up the road and on the right. The gravel driveway led off through the trees towards an old farmhouse that looked like it was from the late 1800’s. Under any other circumstances, it would have been a scene straight out of a Norman Rockwell painting.

“You might want to get on the SAW,” I said.

“I don’t see anything,” she said, looking around.

“I don’t either,” I said. “I’d rather be prepared, just in case.”

She disappeared into the turret and was behind the SAW in a flash. I slowed down as we approached the front of the house and I could see about a dozen dead wandering around behind the barn. I could also see that the ground floor windows of the farmhouse were boarded-up, from the inside.

“The house looks secure,” I said. “There might be someone alive inside.”

The zombies in the barn noticed us and started coming towards us. Two of them wore digital camouflage. That solved the mystery of what happened to the National Guardsmen. I could see Spec-4 spinning the SAW towards them but I reached back and tapped her on the leg.

“Hang on,” I said. “Let’s stick to silenced weapons, for the moment. No sense making too much noise.”

“Good point,” she said, and switched to her M-4.

Behind us, I could see Southard appear in his turret
, his M-4 up and aiming. I could already see that he had the silencer in place, so there was no need to tell him. Chuck was thinking the same thing that I was.

With a half-a-
dozen well placed shots, they cleared out the zombies that were coming towards us before they were within fifty yards. Before the last one had quit twitching, I was out of the vehicle and shouldering my weapon. Elliott was out of his before I could wave him off. I really didn’t want to risk him outside the vehicle just yet, but he was already out.

“Cover us,” I said to Spec-4. “Elliott, stick close to me.”

He fell in beside me as we approached the farmhouse. Although he lacked my military training, he watched what I did and copied it as best he could. He was doing a decent job, too. He kept his weapon up and swept back and forth.

“You cover your side,” I said, quietly. “Don’t sweep over me. It’s called cutting the pie.”

“Cutting the pie,” he repeated. “Got it. I’ll watch my slice.”

We climbed onto the front porch and approached the door. It was a solid woo
d door without a window in it. The kind of door that entry teams dreaded because kicking them down was almost impossible. They had probably reinforced it on the inside, as well. We weren’t knocking it down without a breaching charge or a battering ram.

“Want me to knock?” asked Elliott.

“Let’s check the back before we do,” I said, moving off of the porch.

Elliott stayed on my heels as we rounded the porch and approached the back of the house. When we reached the corner, I leaned out to peek around.
The windows along the back porch had boards over them and there were several bodies lying on the ground near the door.

I held my
left index finger up to my lips to indicate to Elliott to keep quiet. He nodded and tightened his grip on his weapon. I brought up my weapon and began advancing cautiously. Just as I was reaching the back door, I heard a slapping sound behind me. I turned quickly towards the sound and zeroed in on a concrete depression in the ground. It was an old-fashioned root cellar.

I approached the steps leading down into the cellar and saw four zombies slapping the old rusty door
. It looked like it had weathered a lot of storms without yielding. However, it looked solid enough that it wouldn’t yield to the dead, either. With four rapid shots, I eliminated the dead and watched them fall. In the silence that fell afterwards, I held my breath for any other sounds or signs of life. After a long moment, I turned towards my son and shook my head.

“Do you hear anything?” I whispered.

“Nothing,” he replied, under his breath.

“Cover me while I check the cellar,” I said and headed towards the step
s.

I paused to watch
for any signs of movement before proceeding. The last thing I wanted to do was get bit while stepping over what I thought was a dead zombie. That would be a boneheaded thing to do. Nudging each one with my boot, I was satisfied that they were inert. The last one seemed a little bit different from the others, so I stomped its face in just to be safe. The skull caved in with a sickening, wet crunch.

Elliott made a sour face and looked away. He didn’t look like he would throw up, so I didn’t worry about him.
I lowered my rifle as I approached the door and used my gloved fist to knock. Just to be different from the zombies that had been beating on the door, I rapped out a distinct patter. Knock, knock, knock, knock, knock….knock, knock. The old shave and a haircut, bit. What the hell…I couldn’t resist.

“
Avon calling,” I said, loud enough for anyone inside to hear me.

“Who’s out there?” asked a weak voice.

“Wylie Grant,” I replied. “Nathaniel County Sheriff’s Office.”

“Wylie?” I heard another voice say. This one was distinctly female.

I recognized the voice, instantly. It was Rebecca Hargrove from the jail. She was on C-shift, but I knew her well. She and I went to the academy together when we first started in the jail. I was thrilled to know that she was alive.

“Yeah, Becca,” I replied. “It’s me. Can you open the door?”

“Sure,” she said, “but I’ve got to warn you. It’s pretty rank in here. We’ve been trapped inside since all this started.”

“I’m just happy you’re alive,” I answered. “Forget about the rest. How many of you are there?”

I heard the locking mechanism clank open and saw the door swing outward a few inches before striking a zombie corpse. I had to drag two of them out of the way before they could open the door all the way. When they did, the smell hit me like a punch in the face. They had been inside there for over a month without a bathroom or a shower. It was almost overpowering.

They stepped out into the sunlight, blinking in the bright light. I recognized Becca and Kirk Jensen from D-shift. I didn’t see
anyone else inside. Other than the smell and needing a shower, they both looked in good shape.

“How did you two survive in there?” I asked, shocked.

“The place was stocked with jars of fruit and vegetables,” said Becca. “There were enough of them for us to last.”

“What did you do for water?” asked Elliott.

“We drank the juice from the jars,” replied Jensen. “If it hadn’t been for all of that, we’d have never made it.”

“How many of you were there at the roadblock?” I asked, wondering who they had carried away to make the blood trail.

“Four of us from the Sheriff’s Office and two National Guardsmen,” replied Jensen. “There was me, Becca, and Corporal Landon from the jail. We also had Deputy Krista Beeks from patrol.”

“What happened?” I asked, already having a pretty good idea.

“When we first encountered the zombies, we still thought they were rioters,” said Becca. “We tried telling them to disperse and leave the area. They didn’t listen to us. Instead, they came at us with unbelievable speed.”

“
Sprinters
,” I muttered. “That’s why they were overrun.”

“The National Guardsmen w
ent down first,” said Jensen. “We were firing at them, but they just wouldn’t fall. We learned too late that only a headshot would keep them down.”

“That’s when we lost Ray,” said Becca, tearing up. “He saved me from one of them, but they took him down.”

“Why didn’t you take the vehicles and leave the area?” I asked.

“Well, Beeks got bit in the leg and we had to help her walk,” said Becca, her voice thick with emotion. “We didn’t know she was going to turn. When we put down all of the dead in our area, we decided to get out of there. The problem was, we couldn’t find the keys to the cruiser or the Humvee.”

“You don’t need keys for a Humvee,” I said. “It would have started without one."

“I wish we’d have known that then,” said Jensen.

“I think Ray had the keys to the cruiser,” said Becca, “but we couldn’t find them anywhere.”

“Yeah,”
said Jensen. “There was another group coming our way, so we grabbed all the weapons and what little ammo we had left. Then we headed for the farmhouse.”

“We used up the rest of the ammo to get
here,” said Becca. “We found it was all boarded up, but the owner let us in.”

“Later that night,” said Jensen, quietly, “Beeks turned and got the farmer and his family before we got out the back. I think they’re still trapped inside.”

“Is that where the guns are?” I asked.

“Yeah,” said
Jensen, “but I don’t recommend going in there. Counting Beeks, there are six of them inside.”

“Where are the guns?” I asked.

“In the living room with our belts,” answered Becca. “You’re not planning on going in there, are you?”

“Did you grab the rifles from the Guardsmen?” I asked.

“Yeah, but we don’t have any ammo for them,” she added.

“We do,” I said. “I want those guns. We’re going to need them if we’re going to arm you and take you with us.”

“Alright,” said Jensen, “what do you need us to do?”

“Just get their attention on the back door,” I said. “I’ll shoot them through the windows on the
porch.”

We all headed over to the back porch and checked the door. They had locked it fr
om the outside with bailing wire and a board. I removed the lock and swung the door open. The back porch was clear but the door into what looked like the kitchen was closed. I was about to go to it when a grotesque face appeared in the window.

Instinctively, I snap-
fired through the window and shot it in the forehead, spraying gore onto the yellow refrigerator. Instantly, a second face appeared and knocked out the broken glass reaching for me. I shot that one, too. The noise attracted others and I shot them one at a time, until I counted six shots. The last one had been the disfigured face of Krista Beeks.

It took the combined strength of Elliott and I to push the door open with all of the bodies lying against it. Once we were inside, I turned on my tactical light mounted beneath the barrel on my M-4 and started sweeping the room. Elliott followed me, but I motioned for Becca and Jensen to wait outside. They were unarmed and would only get in the way
if there were more of the dead inside.

We quickly collected the weapons, belts and equipment bag,
and then headed back out the way we came. As I passed what had once been Deputy Beeks, I leaned down and removed the badge from her grey shirt. I slipped it into my pocket and turned to head out the door when something caught my eye.

In the living room, I saw something that we had missed before. Hanging above the fireplace was a sword. More specifically, it was a cavalry saber. I headed back towards the sword, glancing around me to make sure there were no other surprises waiting in the shadows.