By unspoken agreement, we split our group tactically. Every other person alternated the direction of their weapons. I could shoot with either hand, so I switched over to the left-hand carry. Elliott was right behind me with his weapon in his right. Third in the group was Spec-4 with her own weapon in her left hand. Southard brought up the rear and watched our backs.
There still wasn’t any sign of small game or deer. The woods were eerily quiet and we marched in silence. The calm was only broken by the crunch of our boots on the rocks and the jostling of our equipment. I kept our pace slow and even so no one would be tired out too quickly. Spec-4 and Southard were in better shape than I was, but Elliott had never been on a military style march. He was in great shape for his age, but he’d never gone hiking with a full rucksack and weapon before. Besides that, I wasn’t exactly twenty years old anymore, either.
We marched in silence for almost an hour before I called a halt to rest. Elliott sat on a rock and took a long drink from his Camel Back. I removed my hat and wiped the sweat from my head with a rag I kept in my pocket. Spec-4 looked sweaty, but ready to continue. Southard crouched down on his heels and dug a can of chew out of his cargo pocket.
“Getting tired, old man?” asked Spec-4, grinning.
“Just getting my bearings,” I replied, returning the grin. “No need to push too hard.”
“Well, I’m tired,” said Elliott, blowing out a breath. “My feet are killing me.”
“You get used to it,” said Southard, slipping a dip into his lower lip.
He held out the can towards me and I gratefully accepted it. I opened the can of long-cut wintergreen and put a generous amount in my own lip. Immediately, I felt the slight rush as it hit my bloodstream.
“Mom’s not going to like that,” said Elliott, smiling.
“Mom’s not going to find out,” I replied, mock scowling at him.
I started to say something else when a sound caught my attention. I quickly held up my hand for everyone to be quiet. Suddenly, we were all alert and looking around. I started turning my head slowly from side to side, straining to hear the sound again. I was about to release the breath I’d been holding, when I heard it. It was distinctly the sound of a twig snapping.
I motioned for everyone to get down and cover each other. I started panning the area around us, looking for the source of the noise. The undergrowth was thick around us, but you could still see through the occasional break in the trees. With everyone quiet, I could hear the soft sounds of something moving through the woods. It was coming roughly towards us.
“Suppressors on,” I whispered and slipped my own over the end of the barrel.
I could hear the muted clicks as the others did the same. I slowly rotated the selector switch from safe to semi on my weapon and brought it up to my shoulder. We remained motionless and tried our best not to make a sound as we waited for whatever it was to reveal itself.
We didn’t have to wait for long. About twenty yards farther down the trail emerged a good sized doe and a fawn. They stopped when they walked out onto the trail and the doe started checking the scent in the air. Animals are amazingly good at adapting quickly. They either adapt or they die out. The deer had been here long before we were and I was confident that they’d be here long after we were gone.
The doe seemed content that there was no immediate threat in the area and continued on her way, with the fawn sticking close to her. Elliott gave me a look like he was considering shooting them. I just gave him a slight shake of the head.
“Let them go,” I whispered. “They’re just trying to survive, like we are. There might come a time when we will hunt again, but right now, we have food. Let them be, for now.”
After a quick drink from my own Camel Back, we all stood up and headed on down the trail. I knew that we had to be close to the area of the cave but it wasn’t a marked location on the trail. It was a little ways off of the trail and not going to be easily spotted from where we were. I didn’t look forward to wasting time searching through the woods to find it, either.
I was about to turn to Spec-4 to ask her opinion, when I heard a sharp sound. It was the distinctive “caw” of a raven. To my left, off of the trail about thirty yards was a large boulder. Perched atop it were two ravens, pecking at something. I remembered the two ravens I had seen before the zombies came to our town. I knew that they were a message from the All-Father. Odin’s ravens were called Huginn and Muninn, which means “thought” and “memory”. They were His messengers, and I wondered if they were telling me something.
“I’m going to check behind that boulder,” I said, and headed off towards the ravens.
It was up an incline and I had to walk carefully to avoid falling back down to the trail. I could hear the others following behind me as we climbed up the hill towards the boulder. Just as we reached the boulder, the two ravens cawed at us loudly and then flapped of into the sky. They circled overhead a few times before heading off the direction we had been going.
As I started to edge around the boulder, I could feel cooler air wafting around from the far side. I could also smell the dank earth smell that could only mean a cave. I crept up to the corner and peered around. Directly behind the boulder was a large cave opening, leading into the side of the bluff. It was wide enough to drive a vehicle inside, but the boulder obstructed the view from the trail. Strewn about in front of the cave was a large assortment of bones.
Some were obviously human, like the skulls and hands. Others were more difficult to tell. I could see deer bones, cow bones and the scattered bones of numerous types of small game. I could also make out the bones of either dogs or coyotes. They were definitely some type of canine. The smell that hung in the air was the unmistakable odor of death and decay.
I could see odd tracks in the soft earth leading into the cave. There were too many tracks on top of one another to identify a single track. There was a definite impression of a shoe. Whatever was going in and out of the cave was human. Or used to be. I was certain that we had the right place.
“We’re here,” I said, motioning for the others to join me.
Once everyone was standing next to me and gazing into the darkness, I was suddenly unsure of what to do. If they only avoided the light but could still come out into it, we might be in a lot of trouble.
“So, what next?” asked Southard. “Do we go inside or try to get them to come to us?”
“Hopefully, neither,” said Spec-4. “I don’t want to go in there.”
“Me either,” agreed Elliott. “We have no way of knowing how many of those things are in there.”
Taking a flare out of my bag, I ignited it. It sputtered and hissed, then lit up in a bright green fireball. With a nervous glace at the others, I tossed it deep into the cave. I could see it flying off into the darkness before it hit something and fell to the floor of the cave. We could see it burning brightly in the darkness, but it did little to illuminate the interior of the cave. We could hear the hissing and popping of the flare, but we could also hear the snarling and growling of the Gods only knew how many of the Stalkers.
We waited nervously for a few moments, weapons at the ready. I wanted to make certain that they wouldn’t all come pouring out of the cave on top of us. When they didn’t emerge, I began to form a plan. I took a few steps back and began to study the boulder. It was about twice the size of the entrance to the cave, but was anchored solidly in the dirt in front of it.
I moved around to the back side of the boulder, opposite the cave and looked around. I could see that at one time, this boulder had been part of the bluff higher up above the cave. It had settled here a long time ago, but it was not part of the rock formation. It could be moved, with the right amount of force.
Grinning wildly, I began to unpack the explosives from my rucksack. Removing my e-tool from my belt, I extended it and dug several holes beneath the edge of the boulder. Then I started placing the blocks of explosives in the holes.
“What the hell are
you doing?” asked Southard. “The cave is on the other side.”
“I know,” I replied, not looking up. “I don’t think we can collapse the side of the hill, but I bet we can roll the boulder over the mouth of the cave.”
“Good plan,” said Spec-4. “That will trap them inside. Is there another way out?”
“I hope not,” I answered, sticking a fuse in the first block of C-4. “As long as there isn’t another opening, there’s no way they’re going to dig out through solid Missouri limestone.”
After a few moments, I had the fuses placed and set them all to the same detonator switch. Southard was watching the front of the cave for any sign of trouble and gave me a thumbs-up when I was finished.
“We’re good,” he said, smiling.
“Let’s fall back and set off the charges,” I said, shouldering my pack.
“Once we blow that,” said Spec-4, “we’re going to need to get the heck out of here. The explosion will attract any dead within earshot.”
“We’ll verify that the cave is sealed and get the hell out of here,” I said, nodding.
We fell back about fifty yards and out of the path of the boulder, should it roll the wrong direction. Once I was certain that everyone was behind cover, I flipped the cover off of the detonator switch and gave everyone a quick smile. Spec-4 gave me a wink and a nod. Elliott covered his ears and looked excited about what was about to happen.
Southard just looked at me and said, “Blow the fucker.”
“Fire in the hole,” I said, and squeezed the detonator trigger.
Instantly we felt the blast wave and heard the massive explosion. The ground shook and debris flew through the air, landing all around us. Some of the debris was small, sharp chunks of rock. Fortunately, the stone shrapnel injured no one. The ground shook for several long seconds before the rain of rocks and dirt ceased.
Cautiously, I looked up and over the top of the boulder where I’d taken cover. My plan had worked better than I had thought it would. Not only had the big boulder rolled into place over the top of the cave entrance, it had sank into the entrance crushing its way almost halfway into the cave. It would take a demolition team with heavy explosives a week to clear that entrance, again. Unless there was another entrance to the cave, we had just bought ourselves some valuable time.
“Damn!” exclaimed Southard. “You corked that bottle.”
I stood up and readied my weapon. Heading back to the cave, I walked all around the boulder searching for any possible way that the Stalkers could get out. After a few moments, I gave up. There were no openings into the cave, whatsoever.
“Alright,” I said, turning to the others. “We’re good. Let’s get back to base, just in case anything comes to investigate that explosion.”
We turned and headed back down the trail towards the Humvee. This time, Southard took point and I brought up the rear. We were pushing much harder, now. We knew the distance that we had to travel and there was a much bigger sense of urgency. The last place I wanted to be was on foot in the woods if we were to encounter a large group of the dead.
We had made it to within sight of the Humvee when I started hearing noises in the trees. Instead of calling for a stop, we just picked up our pace and readied our weapons. When we cleared the tree line, we were all nearly out of breath. All around us in the woods, I could see deer moving quickly. There had to be close to twenty of them and they were heading for the other side of the valley.
“Where the hell are they going?” asked Southard.
“Something has to be spooking them,” I replied. “My guess is a large group of the dead.”
“Safe bet,” said Spec-4. “Either way, we don’t need to be here when they arrive.”
We climbed quickly into the Humvee and I fired up the engine. As I was backing up to turn around, Spec-4 pointed at the hillside.
“We’ve got movement!” she said, “Looks like a large group of Shamblers.”
I punched the accelerator to the floor and headed back across the bridge. Seconds later, I slid to a stop next to the cache building. We piled out of the vehicle and secured the doors, then headed into the building as fast as we could go. I glanced back in time to see the first of the dead emerge from the trees.
I slipped inside the doorway and watched them from the shadows. It didn’t look like they had seen us. It looked more like they were still concentrating on the deer that were making their way across the park and into the trees on this side of the valley. I counted over thirty of them before I decided that they were getting too close for comfort.
I turned and headed down the stairs at a trot, taking three at a time. I could see that Spec-4, Southard and Elliott were still trying to get inside. When I got to the door, Spec-4 turned and looked at me with anger in her eyes.
“They won’t open the door,” she said, venom in her tone.
“Did you try the radio?” I asked, reaching for mine.
“Yeah,” replied Southard. “They either couldn’t hear us or didn’t respond.”
“It might be the door keeping the signal out,” said Elliott, trying to sound hopeful.
“Or Becca freaked out again and won’t open the goddamned door,” snapped Southard.
I reached into my cargo pouch and pulled out the notebook with the combination. As I furiously flipped to the right page, I nodded at the others.
“Cover the stairway, just in case,” I said. “If they find us down here, we’re trapped like rats.”
I went to work on the combinations and left them to their task. It felt like eternity before the last lock clicked open. I pulled the lever and heard the bolt come open. Southard grabbed the lever with me and we began to pull open the door. Behind me, I heard noises coming from the top of the stairs.
“Oh shit!” yelled Spec-4.
I turned around to see a deer emerge into the stairwell. In a blind panic, it must have run into the building looking for a place to hide. That meant that it would be leading the dead right to us.
“Shoot it!” I snapped.
Spec-4 didn’t hesitate and put a silenced burst into the poor beast as it prepared to leap down the stairs. Blood erupted from the wounds and it let out a pitiful bleating sound. Then it turned and headed away from us, blood splashing on the walls as it went. It disappeared from our view and I immediately heard another pitiful bleating sound, followed by the violent sound of a struggle. From the hissing and snarling, I knew that the wounded deer had run into a group of the dead. I could hear the sickening sound of flesh being torn apart and the wet splash of blood hitting the floor.
“Get inside!” I hissed, trying to keep my voice low.
We all rushed inside as fast was we could move, all the while I watched the top of the stairwell for any sign of the dead. Southard and I put our weight behind pulling the door shut and it started closing agonizingly slowly. My last glimpse of the top of the stairs was mercifully clear as the door slid shut and we twisted the bolt into place. We were safely inside the bunker. For the moment, anyway.
We found Becca and the others. They were still sitting in the chow hall. No one looked any the worse for wear and Becca appeared calm and collected. I had no choice but to assume that they simply didn’t hear us calling for them to open the door. Reaching over, I checked the radio that sat beside Becca. It appeared to be in perfect working order. It was also off.
Although I couldn’t prove it, I suspected that she had turned it off on purpose. I had no way of knowing for certain but from the way that she would not meet my gaze, I had the distinct feeling that she had done it intentionally. There was no sense in screaming at her or making a scene. I just knew that there was no way I could trust her again. She was rapidly turning into a liability that we simply could not afford.
Chapter Seven
A Walk In The Park
“If a man hasn't discovered something that he will die for, he isn't fit to live.”
- Unknown
I didn’t mention what I suspected about
Becca to the rest of the group. We spent a quiet night inside the bunker, eating a decent meal and enjoying the relative comfort of a bed and hot shower. I took the Commanding Officer’s quarters, just so I could have a little privacy. I wanted to be alone for a while to consider our options. I was also afraid that my mood might make the others wonder what was bothering me. That was a question I really didn’t want to answer, for now.
I ate my meal in my room and cleaned my weapons. For me, cleaning my guns had always been kind of a cathartic experience. It gave my hands a task to perform that I could practically do in my sleep. The smooth working of the pieces was somehow soothing, and that was just what the doctor ordered. I needed to get my mind of the turmoil that was raging inside.
Becca was a problem that I was going to have to find a way to deal with, one way or the other. She hadn’t done anything that warranted an extreme reaction, but she was putting us in danger at every turn. I couldn’t let that behavior continue. If unchecked, it was going to get one of us killed.
I didn’t expect everyone to be a front-line combatant. Not everyone is cut out for that kind of stress. We all had things we could contribute to the group that would help us all in one way or another. We just had to find a way for her to contribute that wouldn’t rely on her being in any kind of danger. She didn’t do well when she was in danger.
I was just putting the finishing touches on my Army Colt when I heard a knock at the door. I gave the freshly loaded cylinder a quick spin, then gently lowered the hammer. The weight of the old beauty was comforting in my hand, and I only reluctantly placed her back in her holster.
“Come in,” I said, laying the holster on the table.
Spec-4 opened the door and stepped inside, smiling as she entered.
“You alright in here?” she asked, glancing around the room.
“I’m alright,” I said, noncommittally.
Ragnarok Rising: The Crossing (The Ragnarok Rising Saga) Page 10