Ragnarok Rising: The Crossing (The Ragnarok Rising Saga)
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Ragnarok Rising:
The Crossing
Book Three of
The Ragnarok Rising Saga
By
The End is only
The Beginning
Ragnarok Rising: The Crossing
Book Three of the Ragnarok Rising Saga
By D.A. Roberts
First Edition © 2014
All rights reserved. No part of this book may be reproduced or transmitted in any form or by any means whatsoever without express written permission from the author, except in the case of brief quotations embodied in critical articles and reviews. Please refer all pertinent questions to the publisher. All characters appearing in this work are fictitious. Any resemblance to real persons, living or dead, is purely coincidental.
Cover Design and Interior Images by Phil Morrissey
Typeset and Layout by D.A. Roberts
Editing by D.A. Roberts and Annette M. Roberts
Author Bio Photo by Annette M. Roberts
Interactive Map by Kate Hughes
Check out the interactive map for a new level of experience in reading. See the actual locations from the book, as you read it.
Find the map on my website and Facebook pages.
Published by D.A. Roberts
Springfield, MO
Table of Contents
Chapter One - Desperate Times
Chapter Two - The Road Less Traveled
Chapter Three - The Valley of the Dead
Chapter Four - Decent Into Darkness
Chapter Five - The Hall of the Mountain King
Chapter Six - Lair of the Stalkers
Chapter Seven - A Walk In The Park
Chapter Eight - Down the Dark River
Chapter Nine - Laketown
Chapter Ten - The King of Laketown
Chapter Eleven - Blood in the Water
Chapter Twelve - To The Rescue
Chapter Thirteen - Visions
Chapter Fourteen - Shapes in the Mist
Chapter Fifteen - The Honored Dead
Chapter Sixteen - Imposters
Chapter Seventeen - Hel Hath No Fury
Chapter Eighteen - Lucky Break
Chapter Nineteen - Living Dead Girl
Chapter Twenty - Grimmr Bardagi
Chapter Twenty-One - Balefire
Chapter Twenty-Two - One If By Land
Chapter Twenty-Three - Sanctuary
Chapter Twenty-Four - Something Wicked This Way Comes
Chapter Twenty-Five - A Dangerous Experiment
Chapter Twenty-Six - Thunderstruck
Chapter Twenty-Seven - Prophet and Loss
Chapter Twenty-Eight - The Crossing
Author’s Bio: D.A. Roberts
Also By D.A. Roberts
Also By D.A. Roberts
Coming Soon!
Acknowledgements
The third installment of my series came with its own set of unique challenges. Not only did I have the usual issues of writing, but I had a growing number of fans who were eagerly awaiting the new novel. I wanted to make certain that I didn’t disappoint them. It was a new experience for me, knowing that this had grown so far in so little time.
So, I wanted to take a minute to thank everyone who made it possible.
First, as always, I want to thank my family. My wife Annette who has stuck by me for the last 20 years through all the ups and downs. I love you, baby. To my sons; Nathan, Nic, and Noah…you boys are my world. I know we’ve struggled to get by through the years, but I want these books to be my legacy to you. Something you can show your own children, one day. It took me a long time to finally become an author, but I never gave up my dream. Don’t ever give up on yours. No matter what, I love you and I’ll always be there for you.
To my support system and beta-readers, I want to say thank you. Matt Roper, Casandra Smith, Brian Forrester, Kate Hughes, and Mike Mello…thank you all, for everything. Your words of encouragement, support and patience with a struggling writer have made this an amazing experience. I owe you more than I can ever repay.
To the men and women in uniform…soldiers, law enforcement officers (in all capacities), firefighters, paramedics and everyone in between…this is for you all. I have tried to give these characters the dedication and courage you all show on a daily basis. You do a thankless job and you do it well. I, for one, want to thank you. You exemplify what is best in humanity.
And…to the fans. You have e-mailed me, posted on my facebook, tweeted, left reviews online and even come to see me at conventions. You have shown me that this kid from the hills of Missouri could reach into your lives and share his stories with you. You’ve made me proud, smile, laugh and even nearly cry a couple of times. You all have inspired me. I hope to keep entertaining you with my writing for many years to come. Thank you all. I am deeply humbled by this experience. You are all part of my life, now. Thank you for joining me on this journey.
So, to you all…family, friends, fans, sinners and saints…I present to you…
Ragnarok Rising: The Crossing!
I hope you enjoy it. Feel free to let me know. I love hearing from you.
- DA Roberts
Surt with the bane of branches comes
From the south, on his sword the sun of the Valgods,
Crags topple, the crone falls headlong,
Men tread Hel's road, the Heavens split open.
A further woe falls upon Hlin
As Odhinn comes forth to fight the wolf;
The killer of Beli battles with Surt:
Now shall fall Frigga's beloved.
Now valiant comes Valfather's son,
Vidar, to vie with Valdyr in battle,
Plunges his sword into the son of Hvedrung,
Avenging his father with a fell thrust.
Now the son of Hlodyn and Odhinn comes
To fight with Fenris; fiercest of warriors
He mauls in his rage all Middle-Earth;
Men in fear all flee their homesteads;
Nine paces back steps Bur's son
Retreats from the worm of taunts unafraid.
Now death is the portion of doomed men,
Red with blood the buildings of gods,
The sun turns black in the summer after,
Winds whine. Well, would know more?
- The Voluspa
Chapter One
Desperate Times
"An army of deer would be more formidable commanded by a lion,
than an army of lions commanded by a stag."
- Viking Proverb
08 May
It took a few days for us to recover from our attack on the Freemen camp. Although the torture I endured was severe, I had nonetheless endured it. I was still on the mend, but I was mobile and I could accept that. It wasn't good, but it was good enough. We were confident that we’d dealt the last blow in that particular battle.
We’d been keeping an eye out for any sign of them, but so far there had been nothing. Since we’d hit them with an entire barrage from an MLRS[1] Missile strike, I doubted that so much as a bug escaped that night. We wiped that entire sector off the map. I sincerely doubted that anyone would mourn their passing. I know I wouldn't.
The massive explosion had drawn the dead away from us. It was a temporary reprieve to be sure, but one we weren’t going to waste. Crews had been working every day to repair the damage done to our perimeter fence. It might not ever be as good as it was, but it was still better than nothing. We’d even managed to incorporate a section of field to the east of us that survived the explosion. We might be able to grow something this year, after all.
First Sergeant Gregory and I took a long hard look at our dwindling supplies. In the fighting over the last few weeks, we’d lost the bulk of our ammunition, fuel and military grade vehicles. If we couldn’t find more Humvees, we were going to have to consider modifying civilian trucks and SUV’s to fit our needs. It wasn’t something I was particularly looking forward to, since I’d come to rely on our Humvees for defense and transportation. Besides that, I wasn’t sure we could bring a standard vehicle up to that level of protection.
We still had four Hemmitts[2], but they were best suited for big jobs. They guzzled too much fuel to use them for scouting missions. Even the ones that Bowman had modified and nicknamed the “Honey Badgers” weren’t much good for anything but convoys and large supply runs. They were just too big to use for patrols and foraging runs. We only had three Humvees left after the fighting, and only one of them was in decent shape.
I sat contemplating our next move over a plate of what looked to be cheeseburger macaroni with potatoes. I was sipping my second cup of coffee when First Sergeant Gregory came over and sat down across from me. Despite his injuries, he was in remarkably good shape. He was still walking with a pronounced limp, but he was mobile. Although, it was going to be a while before he was back to prowling and growling with the grunts.
“Lookin’ good, Top[3],” I said, lifting my cup to him.
“Up yours,” he replied, smiling. “You don’t look so hot yourself, there, Sheriff.”
“What’s the Sit/Rep[4]?” I asked, sipping the strong black liquid.
“Well, it damned sure ain’t good,” he said, shaking his head and glancing at the clipboard in his hand. “Our ammo supply is for shit, right now. We’re in bad shape across the board on pretty much every caliber.”
I just nodded and gave him a non-committal grunt.
“Our fuel situation ain’t much better,” added Gunny, sliding into a chair. “We’ve got enough for about two months of sustained ops, assuming we keep scrounging for gas everywhere we go.”
“That’s the plan,” I said, shoving a forkful of food into my mouth.
Before he could say anything else, Karen walked up to us and handed them both a big plate of food and a cup of coffee.
“Thank you, Mrs. Grant,” the First Sergeant said, formally.
“You can call me Karen,” she said, smiling. “There’s no need for formalities.”
“Understood, ma’am,” he said.
Three decades of military training wouldn’t be undone that easily. Karen knew it wouldn’t be any easier to break Gunny or the Top of their military habits than it was to break me of mine. The First Sergeant waited for her to walk away before resuming our conversation. Old habits were hard to break, and he wasn’t in the habit of discussing Op/Sec[5] in front of civilians Even if it was my wife.
“We’re going to have to find a new source of supplies or it’s going to get ugly long before winter,” he said, lowering his voice. “The food will keep, so long as we can keep the generators going. When they go, we’re back to MREs and protein bars.”
“We’re in good shape on the propane,” I said through a mouthful of food. “We’ve got a pretty good supply set back.”
“Well, propane isn’t one of the things everyone ran for when the shit hit the fan,” said Top, sipping his coffee.
“Plenty of people grabbed the little propane cylinders,” I replied, “but the big tanks were largely ignored.”
“That’s good news for us,” he said, digging into his food. “At least the food will keep.”
“That only leaves us with the fuel and ammo problems,” I said, glancing at his clipboard. “Most of the places I knew about with large ammo stockpiles were either raided or destroyed. Our options are pretty thin, right now.”
“There is one other option we haven’t discussed,” said the First Sergeant, meeting my gaze.
“What’s that?” I asked.
“The POMCUS[6] cache,” he said.
That got my undivided attention. I had completely forgotten that he had mentioned that before. We had so much to deal with at the time, that I had put it out of my mind. If we could get to a POMCUS cache, we would have more than enough supplies to keep us in operation for a good, long time. Possibly even for years, depending on how much of the ammo we used to defend ourselves.
“How far away is it?” I asked, barely containing my excitement.
“Somewhere outside a little town called Lebanon,” he replied. “I’m not sure how far away that is, but I know it’s not close.”
“It's around fifty miles,” I said. “An hour’s drive, at the most.”
“It was an hour’s drive,” countered Gunny, meeting my gaze. “That’s fifty miles of the dead, clogged roads and who knows what else. There might even be unfriendly survivors between here and there.”
“You have a good point,” I said, shaking my head.
“I suggest a reconnaissance in force,” he replied. “Take a fire team and secure the site. Once it’s secured, you can use the vehicles inside it to bring gear back to us.”
“I’m not sure that’s the best option,” I said, tapping the clipboard. “You and I both know it’s just a matter of time before we have to abandon this place. We can’t sustain this. We need land for crops if we’re going to do this long-term.”
“We’ve got to start planning for the long haul,” he agreed. “There isn’t enough of the government left to come back for us. We need to plan on becoming self-reliant. Eventually, we’ll run out of scavenged canned goods and fuel.”
“We know that Bill Winston can distill alcohol,” I said. “His moonshine is so strong it will eat the paint off a Humvee.”
Gunny chuckled and nodded as he began eating his own food.
“We can turn that shit into fuel,” I said. “It won’t be as efficient, but it'll run an engine.”
“We can always make our own bio-diesel,” he said, swallowing a mouthful of food.
“Ok,” I replied. “So fuel might not be our biggest concern. That still leaves us with a sustainable food problem.”
“What about relocating to the POMCUS?” asked Gunny, brightening.
“Depends on where it is,” I countered. “If it’s in an area that’s crawling with the dead, we might have a fight on our hands just getting to it.”
“True,” said Top, shoveling more food in his mouth.
“What if the cache has been compromised by other survivors?” I asked, suddenly concerned.
“Not much chance of that,” he said, meeting my gaze. “I toured some of them in Germany back in the nineties. They hid the damned things pretty well. You would never know they were there if you didn’t know what to look for.”
“I hope you’re right,” I replied. “We need that gear.”
“The only way we’re going to know for sure is to go there,” he said, shrugging.
“That’s our next priority,” I said, wiping my mouth. “We need to plan a run. The longer we wait, the more desperate we’ll be for the gear.”
“I’ll get my map and the directions to the cache,” he said. “Right after I finish chow.”
“I’ll start rounding up my team,” I said, standing up.
I grabbed my weapon and shouldered it, then headed off. Taking my empty plate, I walked towards the area where they did the dishes. I saw Karen looking my way and shaking her head. She knew the look on my face meant I was planning something. She headed towards me and met me by the sinks.
“You’re going back out there, aren’t you?” she said, already knowing the answer.
“We
’ve got a lead on supplies,” I said, taking her hand. “We’re getting to a critical point.”
“I understand,” she said, shaking her head. “I just don’t have to like it.”
“I know, babe,” I replied, pulling her into my arms. “It’ll be alright. We need the supplies. Besides, if this works out we might be relocating all of us. We can’t stay here forever.”
“I thought this place was secure?” she asked, suddenly concerned.
“It is,” I said, trying to sound calm. “At least as secure as we can make it. That’s not the problem. The problem is long-term survivability. We can’t grow food here. That’s a major problem.”
“Just be careful,” she said, laying her head against my chest.
“I will, babe,” I replied, stroking her hair. “I promise.”
After a few minutes spent holding her, I slipped away and headed off to find my crew of eight balls. I decided to check in at the Hive and try to locate them from there. On the way there I ran into my oldest son, Elliott. He fell into step beside me, keeping his M-4 slung across his chest in a ready position. We’d learned the hard way not to let our guard down, even inside the Underground.
“What’s going on, dad?” he asked, matching my pace.
“Putting together another run,” I said, smiling at him. “Want to go with me?”
“Really?” he asked, excited. “Are you serious?”
“Completely,” I said. “You’re ready.”
“What about mom?”
“I’ll break the news to her,” I said, reassuringly. “She’ll take it better from me.”
“She’s not going to like it,” he said, grinning at me.
“Not one bit,” I agreed. “But we all have to do our part, now. She’ll understand.”
When we reached the Hive, I found Spec-4 sitting on the bench by the front door. She smiled when she saw us and stood up. She was already wearing her body armor and had her weapon next to her.
“Going somewhere?” I asked, gesturing at her armor.