Ragnarok Rising: The Crossing (The Ragnarok Rising Saga)

by Roberts, D. A.

  “Firing squad style,” she added, nodding.

  “The question is who did it and why?” I said, taking the binoculars back.

  “The answers are down there,” she said, pointing farther into the park.

  “Yeah, that’s what I was afraid of,” I replied. “Let’s try to get a little closer.”

  We took our time and picked our way through bushes, going around the perimeter of the parking lot. At the north end of the picnic area was an old flagstone building, not much larger than a small shed. I wasn’t sure what it had been originally, but it had been there as long as I had been coming to the park. We crept into it and crouched down by the little windows that looked out into the park and over the spring.

  Instead of using the binoculars, I propped my M-4 up on the window ledge and started sweeping the area. The ACOG[9] was a 4x magnifier, so it would serve just fine to scan the area. It also gave me the added advantage of being able to fire if I needed to. I swept the bathrooms again, just to be sure. We were fifty yards closer and the view was better. It still looked like a firing squad had used the wall.

  I still couldn’t see any signs of bodies. That meant that whoever shot them had taken the time to haul off the corpses. I didn’t see any signs of fortifications, though. Other than the sign on the road that said the park is closed, there was nothing to keep people or zombies out of the area. Not even so much as a rudimentary fence. The feeling in my gut was getting worse. Between the lack of sound, lack of movement and lack of bodies, I was starting to get very worried.

  As I swept over the Nature Center building, I could see more signs of bullet-ridden walls and dried blood. There were still no signs of movement or life. Even the parking lot was empty. The building looked to be intact. All of the windows looked unbroken and the doors closed. For all I could tell, it appeared closed for the season. Well, with the exception of the dried blood and bullet holes. That changed things.

  I continued my sweep as far as I could see. I cut back to the north and panned towards the bridge that crossed the spring and led to the Visitor’s Center. I could only see as far as the bridge, but there wasn’t anything there. I still didn’t see any vehicles, any signs of the dead or the living, no movement at all. My gut instinct was screaming out a warning, but I couldn’t see anything that would be a problem. There was simply nothing there.

  “Alright,” I said, lying back down on the floor of the little building. “I don’t see a damned thing. There is something wrong here, though. I can feel it.”

  “Everyone will understand if you want to abort,” she said, softly. “We’ve all learned to trust your gut.”

  “That’s the problem, though,” I added. “I can’t find anything wrong. It’s just a feeling.”

  “Your feelings have been right in the past,” she replied.

  I paused for a moment as I let that sink it. My instincts had saved us before. This time was different, though. We desperately needed those supplies. Without them, we didn’t stand much of a chance to last the rest of the summer, let alone through the winter that would inevitably follow. With a sigh, I resigned myself to the decision I knew I had to make.

  “We’re going in,” I said, almost under my breath. “We can’t turn back, now.”

  “Don’t worry,” she said, smiling. “We’re all with you, no matter what. We’ll get through.”

  “Let’s go get the others,” I said, slipping back out the door of the little building.

  Spec-4 stayed on my heels as we retraced our route back to the Humvees. We took our time and listened for any sounds or movement along the way. It was still as quiet as the proverbial tomb. Only the sound of the wind in the trees broke the eerie stillness.

  Southard was outside the Humvee when we arrived. I whistled like a whippoorwill as we approached, to let him know who we were. He still brought his weapon up to his shoulder as we approached. He looked nervous until we emerged from the bushes. Then he visibly relaxed and lowered his weapon.

  I could tell that the stillness was taking its toll on Chuck, too. He was a deer hunter, just like me. He knew that it wasn’t natural for the woods to be this quiet. The silence only meant one thing. There was some kind of predator around. The only question was…what was it?

  “Find anything?” he asked, keeping his voice low.

  “Not a fucking thing,” I said, glancing around the area. “Why aren’t you in the Humvee?”

  “I had to stretch my legs and take a leak,” he replied. “Besides that, the silence was really bugging me. I didn’t want to make everyone else nervous, so I decided to wait out here.”

  “Stay on your toes, Chuck,” I said, meeting his gaze. “I don’t know what it is, but something is very wrong here.”

  “My gut’s telling me the same thing,” he replied, nodding.

  “Looks like the water's over the bridge,” he said, gesturing down at the water. “We gonna try to cross?”

  “I’d guess it to be three feet or less,” I said. “I’m pretty sure we can handle it. I’ve taken Humvees through worse.”

  “I wouldn’t try it if we weren’t above the spring,” said Spec-4. “At least the water isn’t moving very fast.”

  “Just wait until you see where the spring hits the Niangua,” I said. “The water is going to be rolling.”

  “Let’s find the cache and get the hell out of here,” said Southard. “I don’t like this place.”

  “I’m with you there,” I replied. “I’ll take the crossing first. You drive across, next. I don’t think Elliott is quite ready to drive through floodwaters. Stick to the right side of the road.”

  “Copy that,” said Southard, heading for his vehicle.

  Spec-4 and I returned to ours and climbed back inside. Becca was shook up but seemed to be holding it together. She just looked at me and smiled tightly. I gave her a reassuring smile and started the engine. I let it idle while I studied the water in front of us. It wasn’t moving much, so I wasn’t overly worried about the water sweeping us off of the slab. However it was murky and dark, so I was concerned about anything that might be on the bridge that I couldn’t see.

  “You guys might want to hang on,” I said. “This might get a little bumpy before we’re through.”

  Slipping into gear, I started slowly towards the edge of the water. Just as I reached it, I stopped completely. I thought I had seen movement out of the corner of my eye.

  “Wilder,” I said, “hand me the binoculars.”

  “What did you see?” she asked, handing them over.

  “I’m not sure,” I replied. “I just caught a glimpse of something moving.”

  I took the binoculars and started sweeping the area where I had seen it. It was right near the restrooms, so I focused in and swept slowly from left to right and then back again. I still didn’t see anything, but the knot in my stomach had doubled in size. It was still and quiet, with no sign of movement whatsoever. Not even so much as a squirrel.

  Handing the binoculars back to Spec-4, I turned back to the water ahead of me. It looked no more inviting than it had before, but now I was looking for anything at all that might be out of place. Nothing seemed wrong and nothing was moving. With a heavy sigh, I took my foot off the brake and started into the water.

  I felt my way in, slowly. Water was coming steadily up the sides of the Humvee and starting to splash up onto the hood. I knew we would be fine so long as I didn’t let off of the gas. The raised air intake on the Humvee would keep us running as long as I didn’t let the engine flood out.

  We made it across without incident, and I was glad to see that I had been high on my estimate of the depth. Although we were in over the wheels, it never made it over the doors. It was less than three feet deep across the concrete bridge. As we safely pulled out of the other side, I reached for the radio mic.

  “All clear, Chuck,” I said, keying up. “Take it slow and steady. Stick to the right.”

  “Copy that,” he said, and began his run.

  Le
ss than two minutes later, we parked side by side in the parking area next to the bathrooms. I decided that I wanted a closer look at the bullet holes along the walls, just to see for myself. When I climbed out of my Humvee, Spec-4 followed me and readied her weapon. Becca stayed inside the vehicle, but watched us intently. Southard and Elliott climbed out of their vehicle, weapons in hand.

  “What’s next, dad?” asked Elliott.

  “I want to take a closer look at the bullet holes on the wall,” I said, pointing. “Something about it just doesn’t seem right.”

  The four of us headed around to the side of the building, away from the entrances to the bathrooms. Behind us, I heard the door of a Humvee open and close. I turned around to see Jensen standing beside the vehicles, adjusting his weapon.

  “Don’t wander off,” I said.

  “I won’t,” he replied. “I just wanted to stretch my legs.”

  We headed around the corner and I could see the numerous bullet holes that pockmarked the wall. There was also quite a bit of blood on the wall and the ground beneath it. In the grass, I could see expended brass. Kneeling down, I picked up a piece and examined it. It was 5.56mm NATO. That meant it came from either an AR style weapon or the military. I selected a number of other rounds to check, just to be certain.

  “Multiple shooters,” I said, looking at Southard. “Firing squad deployment. Military, I think.”

  I was about to say more when I heard the scream. It came from around the corner in front of the buildings. We all spun and sprinted around the corner. Jensen was on the ground right in front of the men’s room entrance, his legs still inside the door. He was lying on his stomach, clawing at the ground trying to drag himself out of the bathroom. Before we could reach him, something dragged him back inside and the screaming began, again.

  Activating the tactical light on my M-4, I swung around the corner and illuminated the interior. What I saw sent chills running down my spine. Two of the dead were savagely tearing flesh from the still screaming body of Jensen. One was female and the other was a male. They were both wearing the tattered remains of military style ACU’s.

  They were biting into his thigh and lower back, heedless of his struggling and screaming. When my light fell on them, they did something I had never seen before. They reacted by crouching lower and snarling at me. I was shocked by their reaction and almost didn’t register that they were about to come at me. I managed to squeeze off a round, hitting the male in the forehead and blasting him back into oblivion.

  The zombie woman leapt at me with shocking speed. Unlike a Sprinter, it leapt at me like a tiger attacking its prey. Spec-4 shot it in the air, knocking it to the side instead of into me. It hadn’t been a kill shot, but it was enough to put it on the ground. It hissed and snarled as it rolled back to its feet. I shot it in the face before it had the chance to jump again. This time, it didn’t get back up.

  Jensen was done. He was bleeding heavily out of the wounds in his legs. One of the bites must have severed an artery. I could see his spine through the ragged holes in his lower back. His wounds were severe enough that we couldn’t have saved him, even without the zombie virus running through his veins. It was lucky that he had blacked out from the pain and would never know his fate. At least there was that mercy for him.

  I didn’t wait for him to regain consciousness, either as Jensen or as one of the dead. I whispered a silent prayer for him and shot him in the back of the head. While the others collected the gear from Jensen, I took a closer look at the dead woman. The front of her uniform dripped with blood and gore.

  “Wilder,” I said, “shine your light over here.”

  She lit up the corpse in front of me as I sat my weapon to the side. I grabbed the front of the woman’s shirt and ripped the buttons off as I tore it open. Beneath the shirt, she wore a black bra and a St. Christopher’s medallion, in addition to a set of army issue dog-tags. That wasn’t what interested me, though. I was more concerned with the dark spots that covered her abdomen and chest.

  “What the hell are you doing?” asked Spec-4, surprised.

  “You see these dark circles,” I said, pointing.

  “Yeah,” she said, “so what?”

  “Those are bullet holes,” I explained. “She was shot numerous times in the chest and stomach. If my guess is correct, I would say that she was a victim of the firing squad.”

  “Then how did she turn?” asked Elliott. “I thought she had to be bitten.”

  “This wound on her arm looks like it might be a bite,” I said, pointing at a blackened hole in her right forearm. “She must have been bitten and whoever was doing the shooting put her against the wall and shot her. They must not have known that anyone that gets bit will turn.”

  “What the hell kind of zombie was that, anyway?” asked Southard, still sweeping the interior with his weapon up.

  “This…,” I said, shaking my head. “This is something new.”

  “He…he was just going to the bathroom,” said the voice of Becca behind me. “There was no warning. They waited until he came into the darkness and attacked him. They waited for him to come to them.”

  “Since when do they do that?” asked Spec-4.

  “They never have before,” said Southard.

  “They ambushed him,” said Elliott, a touch of fear in his voice.

  “These fucking things are getting smarter,” said Southard.

  “That’s what I’m afraid of, too,” I said, shaking my head. “Let’s hope this is an isolated case and there aren’t more of these things around here.”

  “Do you really thing that’s likely?” asked Southard.

  “No,” I replied, softly. “I don’t.”

  “So, what do we call these things?” asked Spec-4.

  “Stalkers,” I replied, after a moment's thought. “We’ll call them Stalkers.”

  “Let’s find those weapons and get out of here,” said Southard, glancing around nervously.

  With that, we all headed back to our vehicles. The water from the spring was nearly up to the road but we had a clear line of sight all the way to the bridge. It was intact, but looked like it had vehicles blocking it off. I took the opportunity to scan the area with the ACOG, but still didn’t see any other movement. I knew that the visitor’s center and store were on the other side of the bridge, as was the entrance to the POMCUS cache.

  “We’ve got to find a way across that bridge,” I said, gesturing. “It’s blocked, but I think we can clear it.”

  “Well, then,” said Southard. “Let’s get it done and get this show on the road.”

  Once we were all safely inside our vehicles, I took the lead and headed for the bridge. There were sawhorse style barricades on both ends of the bridge and two Park Ranger SUV’s parked nose-to-nose blocking the way. So long as there was no damage to the bridge, we wouldn’t have much trouble clearing it.

  Chapter Four

  Decent Into Darkness

  “Let another's wounds be your warning.”

  - Njal's Saga

  We made short work of the roadblock on the bridge. It was merely a matter of breaking out the windows on the SUV’s, then taking them out of gear. After that, it was easy to shove them out of the road. I had Spec-4 and Southard cover me while I walked across the bridge. I didn’t want any surprises when we were halfway across. With the swollen spring beneath the bridge, falling into it would be deadly.

  Once I verified that there were no tripwires or traps on the bridge, the Humvees came across behind me. It was still unnerving to see nothing moving in the park. The Visitor’s Center and General Store looked to be intact, but there were no cars in the parking lot. In fact, there didn’t seem to be many vehicles in the park at all. They must have forced everyone to leave when they closed the park. That suited me just fine because it meant fewer of the undead would be around.

  Taking the map out of my cargo pocket, I spread it out on the hood of my Humvee. Spec-4, Southard and Elliott joined me. Becca wouldn’t get
out of the vehicle after what had happened to Jensen. I felt bad for Jensen, I really did…but he never should have gone wandering around by himself. I don’t care how bad he had to use the bathroom; he should have cleared it first. His own carelessness had gotten him killed, plain and simple.

  Now granted, I was still going to miss him. We would miss his firepower if the zombies come for us in any kind of numbers. Not that it looked like there were large numbers of zombies in the area, but the new ones had me worried. Either the Stalkers stayed hidden all the time, or they didn’t like the light. I hoped that they stayed hidden, because the thought of a large number of them coming out when the sun went down was something I really didn’t want to consider. There weren’t any structures in the area that we could defend. We had to get inside the POMCUS Cache, plain and simple.

  There was too much glass in the Visitor’s Center/General Store and the bathrooms didn’t have doors. That only left some apartments that the park employees used and the Fish Hatchery. Neither building could withstand a siege of the undead. Our only hope was in finding the POMCUS. If we could seal it from the inside, we could weather the night and fight our way clear in the morning. If not, then we were going to have to leave the area before dark.

  After studying the map, we decided that the most likely place to start was a rather nondescript building that sat on the south side of the road between the Visitor’s Center and the Hatchery. It was a plain building about thirty feet square, made of limestone bricks and mortar. Someone had once told me that the Government used it for Federal Prisoners to have short visits to the park.

  I had never doubted the story, although I’d never seen the building in use, either. They kept the building well maintained, despite never having seen it occupied. I assumed that the park maintenance people kept it up, but I’d never really put much thought into it. It was just a plain little building that everyone ignored, which made it the perfect choice to hide something like a POMCUS Cache.

  I realized that the cache had to be under the building, since it wasn’t big enough to house such a vast trove of weapons, vehicles and gear. Folding the map up and slipping it back into my pocket, I consulted the little green notebook that held the access instructions. They began with an access code or combination to open a lock. We were going to have to get inside to find it.