We headed across the road, leaving Becca locked inside a Humvee. She refused to come out, so we left her a radio and told her to watch for any signs of movement. Locked inside an up-armored Humvee, she was probably safer than we were. Even the Stalkers couldn’t rip through that kind of armor. At least, I hoped that they couldn’t. If they could, then we were in bigger trouble than I thought.
They had painted the door to the little building brown to look like the wooden doors on all of the other buildings. However once you were close to it, you could clearly see that this was a reinforced steel door not wood. The glass in the windows was thicker than the glass we used in the jail. All in all, I couldn’t see any way that we were going to be breaking in without explosives. Even the windows around the building were of the same thick glass. Obviously, someone didn’t want uninvited guests inside.
The lock was heavy-duty and I held no illusions that any weapon I had on me would do more than damage it. I wasn’t going to break it with my knife and I didn’t have any armor piercing rounds that could punch through it. Bashing it down with a Humvee might work, but it would do a lot of damage to the vehicle. I wasn’t willing to take the chance on disabling one of our rides to get inside.
The only good thing was if we couldn’t get inside, then the dead couldn’t either. If we could gain access without taking out a wall, we had our place to shelter for the night. The clock was ticking and I was running low on ideas. We only had a few hours left until sundown. In less than an hour, I wanted to be either inside or clearing the area.
There was a rigid steel plate covering the actual locking mechanism, so the old credit-card trick wouldn’t work. The lock was probably too stiff, anyway. The plate also kept me from using my knife. I didn’t have a set of lock picks and even if I did, I didn’t know how to use them. My options were quickly dwindling away.
“Well, if all else fails,” I said, “look for a key.”
We searched the area around the door for hidden keys in rocks, wood, bricks and everything else we could think of. If there was a hidden key, we couldn’t find it. I was seriously considering the Humvee option when an idea struck me like a bolt from the blue.
“We need some tools,” I said, smiling. “Everyone look around for anything that looks like a maintenance or tool shed. There’s bound to be one somewhere.”
It didn’t take long to identify a building near the Visitor’s Center. It was a plain brown building with a garage door. The sign in front that said “Maintenance” was a good indicator, as well. It had windows on one side and they appeared intact. If there hadn’t been anyone inside when the shit hit the fan, then there wouldn’t be any reason for the dead to be inside, either.
We fanned out in a line and headed for the building. I didn’t want any of us to be too close together. It would interfere with our ability to shoot effectively if we ran into trouble. I kept Elliott close to me on my left with Spec-4 on my right. Southard was on the left end of the formation, covering Elliott’s other side. By unspoken agreement, we all kept an eye on him.
Fortunately, the locks on the maintenance building were nowhere near as formidable as the ones on the cache. I used my hammer to smash the padlock on the side door and kicked it open. There was scattered light inside from two small windows, but mostly it was shadows and darkness.
I lit up my tactical light and started scanning the interior. There was plenty of landscaping tools and a few toolboxes, but no sign of Stalkers or any other kind of dead. What I did see made me smile like a kid in a candy store. Against one wall was a set of tanks for a cutting torch. If they weren’t empty, I could cut my way into the building.
I inspected the dials and found the tanks to be about half full. Grabbing a mask, a striker and the handle to the trolley that the tanks sat on, we headed back to the cache building. The sun was getting dangerously low in the sky, so I knew that time was of the essence.
Slipping the mask over my face, I adjusted the airflow until I could hear the gas escaping. With a click of the striker, there was a loud pop and the torch lit up with a bright yellow flame that trailed curls of black smoke. Then I adjusted the feed until I had a concentrated flame that was a bright blue and hissed with a life of its own.
The azure flame made short work of the covering plate, and then I concentrated on the locking mechanism. The lock had to have been made of a heavy alloy, because it took longer to cut through than I had expected. It could resist all it wanted, though. There was no stopping the intense heat of the cutting torch. Seconds later, the lock melted away and the door popped loose in the frame.
I could see the metal of the lock and frame were still glowing red hot, but the door was open. I swung the door outward and stepped back to let Spec-4 and Southard sweep it. There was no sign of movement from inside. While they went inside to sweep the interior of the small building, I shut down the torch and removed the mask.
“All clear,” called Spec-4.
“Clear,” echoed Southard.
After pushing the tanks aside, Elliott and I went into the building to have a look. There was a small office to the right of the door. A short hallway led to four small bedrooms. Each room had two beds without sheets or blankets. There was also a small bathroom. Each bedroom had a small window that had no curtains. There were no windows in the bathroom. A sign on a locked steel door at the end of the hallway read, “Danger! Keep Out. Authorized Personnel Only.”
“Let’s get our gear inside and secure that door,” I said. “We don’t have much daylight left.”
We quickly headed out to the Humvees and brought in our gear. With some coaxing, we convinced Becca to come inside with us. Once we had all of our gear inside, I pulled the door shut and looked for a way to secure it. There was a knob and the turning mechanism for the deadbolt on the inside. Both were useless since I had cut through them to get us in.
There was just enough light from the little windows to see by. We worked quickly and attached a rope to the door handle, and tied it off to the doorframe of the little office. With that pulled as tightly as we could make it, I pushed on the door with my shoulder. It gave more than I wanted so I thought I’d better add more to it. Southard and I put our heads together and came up with a better idea.
Opening the door, we looped rope around both corners and pulled it shut. This time, with rope tied around the corners and around the handle, we were able to pull it tight enough that it wouldn’t budge. The door held firm against the combined weight of both of us. I hoped that it would be enough to keep out Stalkers or anything else that tried to get inside with us.
Spec-4 and Elliott had been busy, covering the windows. Becca was scared half to death and stayed in the little office, clutching her rifle. As they covered windows, the light began to ebb inside the hallway. More out of reflex than anything, I reached over and flipped the light switch. To our surprise, the soft fluorescent bulbs flickered and came to life.
“What the hell?” asked Southard, surprised. “The lights work.”
“Does the park still have power?” asked Elliott, hopefully.
“I doubt it,” I replied. “It’s more likely that the POMCUS has its own internal power supply. Probably from solar cells up on the edge of the valley.”
Elliott went to the small bathroom next to the bedrooms and turned on the water. We all looked up as we heard the sound of water gushing into the sink. We were all thrilled at the possibility of running water. A few moments later, Elliott leaned out from the door and smiled triumphantly.
“It’s hot!” he exclaimed.
“Is there a shower?” demanded Southard, grinning like a kid.
“Yes, there is,” replied Elliott.
“I’ve got first dibs!” shouted Southard.
“We’ll all get a turn in there,” I added. “But I say we let the ladies go first.”
“Fine,” muttered Southard, with mock sadness.
We’d been lucky to have running water in the Underground. It was great to be able to use a bathro
om or wash yourself. However, we had to ration the hot water. Here, we could take a long hot shower for the first time since the zombies attacked. Even I couldn’t help but smile in anticipation of a long soak in a hot shower.
“I think we’ll rest in here tonight,” I said, smiling. “We can try to get into the cache in the morning.”
We covered all the windows with black plastic trash bags that we found in the little office and sealed it tight with duct tape. I wanted to be certain that no light escaped so we wouldn’t attract any unwanted attention. I only wished that there had been a place to park the Humvees out of the line of sight. If the Stalkers came sniffing around, then the Humvees shouldn’t hold their attention. If there was anyone living around, then the Humvees would stand out like a beacon.
We had no way to know if any survivors in the area would be hostile. However, by the same logic, we had no way of knowing if they were friendly either. After our encounters with the Freemen, I thought it was safer to err on the side of caution. Being cautious would keep us alive. I would rather apologize for being suspicious of someone than watch them kill my friends.
Since there were four bedrooms and five of us, I decided that we’d take turns on guard duty all night and everyone would have a chance to get some sleep. Tomorrow was going to be a very busy day and we would all need our rest. After a quiet meal of MREs and bottled water, we all took our turn in the shower. It was amazing. I felt like a new man.
Then we broke out our camping gear and everyone headed for bed. I decided to take first watch, so I let the others have the bed. Once everyone bedded down for the night, I turned off all of the lights except a light in the bathroom and a small lamp on the desk in the office. I sat in the office chair and leaned back, placing my boots on the desk. I wasn’t even remotely tired so I just sat in silence, lost in my own thoughts. I wasn’t sure how long I sat there before I noticed the noise.
I knew it had to be well after dark when I realized I was hearing a very soft noise that seemed to be coming from outside. I made certain not to move or to make any noise, but began to listen very carefully. It was very faint, but distinct. There was something moving outside the building. Whatever it was, it was very stealthy. I think I felt it more than actually heard it.
Slowly, I leaned forward in the chair. Careful so I didn’t make any noise, I slipped out of the chair and turned off the light. I picked up my M-4 and slipped out into the hallway. I could clearly hear the soft breathing of my sleeping companions. Closing my eyes, I strained to hear even the slightest noise. That’s when I heard the soft metallic click. I cocked my head and listened. A few seconds later, I heard it again. It was coming from the door.
I crept slowly to the door and held my breath. In the dim light from the bathroom behind me, I could clearly see that someone or something was slowly turning the doorknob. The click came as they turned it back and forth, trying to open it. When it stopped moving, I could hear something walking away.
“That’s got to be a person out there,” I thought.
Slipping quickly back into the office, I shut the door behind me to cut off the light from the hallway. With the office plunged into complete darkness, I peeled the edge of the duct tape back and lifted the black plastic. In the moonlight outside, I could just make out the shapes of several figures moving around. I held my breath to keep from making the slightest noise. Part of me was thinking we had other survivors outside, but the instinctive part of my brain was screaming a warning.
When one of the figures turned towards me, I could see the dead face illuminated in the moonlight. The glassy eyes reflected the pale moonlight with no warmth to them. They were the eyes of a predator…the eyes of the hungry dead. The Stalkers were worse than I thought. They were showing signs of intelligence. The turning of the doorknob, the systematic way they checked around the Humvees. They weren’t just wandering around their environment. They were reacting to it. I felt like someone had poured ice water down my spine.
Resealing the plastic, I slipped out into the hallway. My heart was racing in my chest and I felt like a trapped animal. Then I heard a sound that nearly made my thundering heart stop beating altogether. I could hear the scrabbling sounds as one or more of them climbed the wall and onto the roof. My mind flashed images behind my eyes. Something that had been bothering me since we saw the bullet holes in the walls of the bathrooms came sharply into focus.
Some of the bullet holes were above head level. Some were all the way up near the top of the wall. That meant that whoever had been doing the shooting hadn’t been executing survivors. They had been shooting at Stalkers that climbed the walls to get away from them. That made them more than just a zombie. They had to be some kind of revenant. There was some kind of sinister intelligence at work behind those dead eyes. Suddenly, I felt more terrified than I had felt since this all began.
Creeping into Southard’s room, I knelt beside his bed. He was deeply asleep with his sleeping bag zipped up over his face. I didn’t see his M-4 anywhere, so I knew it had to be inside the bag with him. I had to be careful how I woke him to avoid getting shot for my trouble.
“Chuck,” I whispered. “Wake up.”
“Mmm….,” he mumbled from inside the sleeping bag.
“Chuck,” I whispered, more urgently, “we’ve got trouble.”
I saw him tense up and then slowly unzip the bag. I could see his face emerge and his eyes were wide open. I’d just said the magic words. Chuck’s mental alarm bells were sounding and he came awake instantly, listening for danger.
“What’s going on?” he mouthed.
I held my finger up, motioning for him to be quiet. He nodded his understanding and I leaned close to his ear to avoid even whispering too loudly.
“There are at least half a dozen Stalkers outside,” I said, softly. “Maybe more.”
“So,” he replied. “They can’t get inside. Can they?”
“They’re smarter than we thought,” I said through clenched teeth. “We may not be as safe as we think.”
He just leaned back and looked at me questioningly.
“They were creeping around the building, careful to not make noise,” I said. “They were also trying the doorknob.”
“So,” said Southard. “That might just be a memory fragment. It doesn’t make them smart.”
“They did the same thing to the Humvees,” I said. “Now they’re on the roof.”
“What!?” he snapped, raising his voice slightly. “That’s impossible.”
“Just listen,” I replied.
We sat in silence for a few moments before he heard the soft footfalls on the roof. They were moving slowly and methodically. It seemed to me like they were looking for a way inside. Chuck must have had the same thought I did, because he unzipped his sleeping bag and brought out his rifle. Swinging his legs off of the bed, he reached down and grabbed his boots from beneath the bunk.
Seconds later, he was zipping the sides and getting up. Together, we slipped back out into the hallway and down to the door. The doorknob was moving again, only this time I wasn’t the only one who saw it. Then I took him into the office and shut the door. We peaked out from opposite corners of the window and watched as more and more of them arrived. We could see them moving in the moonlight, searching for any sign of prey. They seemed to be drawn to this area. It was like they knew we were there, but just couldn’t find us.
“How many of them do you think there are?” whispered Southard.
“Too damned many,” I replied, wide-eyed.
“If they’re out there when we try to leave,” he said, “we’re in for a hell of a fight.”
“I think they’re sensitive to light,” I said. “We’ve never seen one out in the day, and the ones we saw that killed Jensen never came out into the light.”
“I hope you’re right,” he said, patting me on the shoulder. “Otherwise this trip is gonna get real interesting.”
“Yeah,” I agreed, covering the corner of the window, again.
“You want to get some sleep?” asked Southard.
“I don’t think I can, knowing what’s out there.”
“Yeah, me either,” he replied. “How about we make some coffee and let the others sleep while they can.”
“Sounds like a plan,” I said. “I’ll fish out the coffee pot and get some water.”
“I’ll get a couple heat tabs out of my bag and get them ready,” he said, heading back into his room.
We brewed a pot of strong Gunny-style coffee, complete with the bourbon. It wasn’t Chuck’s first time drinking it. In fact, we were both growing rather attached to it. We sipped in silence, listening to the sound of Gods knew how many of the Stalkers slinking around outside the walls of our temporary home. If we couldn’t get into the cache, then this place was going to be our only sanctuary until we either returned to the Underground or found our way inside the cache.
“You still think we should relocate here?” asked Southard, sipping his coffee.
“If we can clear out these Stalkers, then yeah,” I said. “This place has plenty of arable land for growing crops, a fresh water supply and large living areas. There are more than enough houses to go around for everyone in the Underground.”
“What about power?”
“We’ll need to figure out how much power the cache can produce,” I answered. “I doubt it will be enough to power the entire park.”
“Then there’s the problem of creating a secure perimeter,” said Southard.
“I think I may have a way around part of that,” I replied. “We won’t have to secure the water’s edge. The zombies won’t go into the water, on purpose. That just leaves the line from the Niangua River to the spring. We might be able to secure that with scrounged fencing or by turning cars onto their sides. There should be plenty of abandoned cars in the area.”
Ragnarok Rising: The Crossing (The Ragnarok Rising Saga) Page 6