She shut the door behind her and walked over to the table, taking a seat directly opposite of me. I could feel the weight of her icy-blue stare as she looked into my eyes. It has always been fascinating to me, the power that most women possess. She looked into my eyes for a few seconds and instantly knew I was holding something back.
“I know that something is bothering you,” she said, holding my gaze.
I glanced away quickly, not knowing if she could actually read my mind or not. It was an irrational thought, but stranger things had happened. I mean, we were living in a world that had been overrun by zombies. How much stranger would it be for her to be telepathic? Then again, I really hoped she wasn’t. I had a hard enough time watching my mouth, let alone guarding my thoughts.
“I just have a few things on my mind,” I answered, still not meeting her gaze.
“Like what?”
“Plans,” I said. “Like how we’re going to defend this place once we move everyone here. Also, how we’re going to turn this place into more than just another camp. It’s going to be our sanctuary…our refuge.”
“That’s not all that’s bothering you,” she said, shaking her head.
“No,” I admitted, grudgingly. “You’re right. I just wasn’t sure if I wanted to say anything about it.”
“It’s Becca, isn’t it?”
Damn it. She was a telepath. I knew it.
“It wasn’t that hard to figure out,” she said, smiling. “What did she do? Turn off the radio?”
My mouth must have dropped open. She started laughing when she saw the look on my face. It took me a few seconds to recover my composure, which only made her laugh harder.
“How did you know that?” I asked, surprised.
“I saw you look at the radio when we came back in,” she replied. “I also tested the radios through the door before we left. It wasn’t a big leap of the imagination.”
I felt a wave of irrational relief wash over me. She really had me worried there for a second.
“So, what do we do about it?” I asked, shaking my head.
“Well,” she said, cautiously, “that’s a tough question. We don’t really have any way to prove that she did it on purpose.”
“Yeah,” I agreed. “Just my suspicions.”
“I say we just keep an eye on her,” she said, after a moment. “We’ll just make sure that she isn’t in any position to cause that kind of a problem, again.”
“Fair enough,” I said, reaching into my vest pocket and retrieving my hip-flask.
I opened it and took a pull of the rich Bushmills that was inside. It spread warmth throughout my body as it hit my system. I closed my eyes and released a satisfied sigh. I held it out to Spec-4 and she took it without hesitation. She took a somewhat smaller drink and returned it with a smile.
“Should it worry me that I’m starting to like that stuff?” she asked, grinning.
“It should worry you that we might run out of it,” I said, shaking my head. “If we can’t find more, my supplies will only last so long.”
“That will be a sad day,” she said, shaking her head. “I’m sure you’ll be inconsolable.”
“Probably,” I agreed.
“We should probably get some rest,” she said, glancing at her watch. “It’s getting late and we have work to do in the morning.”
“Good idea,” I said, capping the hip-flask. “I’d better let Elliott know, too.”
“He went to bed about an hour ago,” she answered. “Southard wasn’t far behind him. In fact, I think we’re the only ones still awake.”
There was an awkward pause that seemed to last a lifetime before she broke the silence. I think she was waiting for me to ask her to stay. Part of me wanted to, but I wouldn’t be able to look myself in the mirror let alone face Karen.
“Goodnight,” she said, softly.
She sighed and got to her feet. Instead of walking away, she came around the table and stood in front of me. I stood up and faced her. I owed her more than just an explanation. I owed her my life, several times over. We had needed to clear the air, for some time. I guess now was as good as any time. I tried to find the right words. My mind was racing with things to say, none of which would be easy.
“Look, Wylie,” she began, taking the first step. “I know you’re married and I know that we shouldn’t be together. I understand the logic of the situation. The problem is I still feel the way I feel. Logic be damned.”
“I know,” I said, struggling for the right words. “I just…:
I paused, trying to get my mind to work right.
“Wylie,” she interrupted, “I don’t care about the logical thing to do. I care about you. I want to be with you. Don’t you understand that?”
I did understand it. That was the problem. I understood it, all too well. I have been happily married for almost twenty years. I’ve never cheated on my wife, in all our time together. Now, at the end of the world, I find myself torn and tempted beyond belief. I was committed to my marriage, but I am also mortal. I could no more help being attracted to her than I could stop the sun from coming up in the morning.
“Chrissy,” I stammered, “I don’t know what to say. I know what you’re feeling. I feel it, too. But if I was the kind of person who could break his marriage vows, would I be the kind of person you fell in love with?”
Confusion crossed her face and wrinkled her brow. She thought hard about what I had said before tears began to form at the corners of her eyes.
“No,” she whispered, looking down dejectedly. “Part of why I feel the way that I do is because of your sense of honor and duty. I can’t ask you to break those.”
Hesitantly, I reached out and wrapped my arms around her. She leaned into my chest and slipped her arms around me. I held her there for a long moment, neither of us wanting to move or to speak. I could feel the fabric of my t-shirt growing damp from what I knew had to be her tears.
“I will always be your friend,” I said, hugging her tighter. “I will laugh with you, cry with you and even hold your hand when you’re sick, but I can’t give you more than that. I’m sorry. It wouldn’t be right. I can’t betray my family like that.”
“I know,” she said, her voice thick with emotion. “But I don’t want anyone else, either.”
“Besides that,” I countered, “I’m almost old enough to be your father.”
“I don’t care about that,” she said, not looking up. “And if you hadn’t noticed, there aren’t exactly an abundance of men my age.”
We held each other there for a long time. Each lost in our own thoughts. In retrospect, I shouldn’t have let her spend the night. We had spent the night together before, back before we made the run to the lake. We were both exhausted and neither of us really felt like being alone. Despite our proximity, I held to my vows. It still felt good to be together. That thought worried me, though.
11 May
When I awoke, she was already gone. I lay there for a long moment, my mind racing. I felt guilty, but also happy at the same time. I felt like we had finally reached an understanding. Acknowledging our feelings and coming to terms with our relationship was a tremendous load off of my mind. I could feel secure in my relationship with my wife and with Spec-4, as well. We knew our boundaries and could accept them.
Getting out of bed, I headed into the little bathroom for a quick shower and shave. I could already smell the breakfast cooking when I emerged from the shower, freshly shaved and with my goatee now gathered with a hair tie. Soon it would be long enough to braid. A warrior’s braid would make a nice edition to the look I had going on. I didn’t even mind all the new scars that I had. They were the mark of a warrior.
When I entered the kitchen, I found almost everyone already there. Elliott came stumbling in, bleary eyed and half-asleep, as I was sitting down to eat. He always was difficult to wake up in the morning. Becca and the twins had prepared breakfast and I was definitely ready to eat. I ate a healthy portion of eggs, bacon and
biscuits with jelly. There was even coffee. It was instant, but it was hot.
“What’s the plan for today?” asked Southard, still munching on a biscuit.
“I thought we’d clear a couple of the buildings and look for supplies we might be able to use,” I replied. “If we can secure the apartment buildings, we’ll have plenty of room for everyone to live when we get them all here.”
“A mass exodus from the Underground will take some doing,” said Spec-4, refilling my coffee cup with an urn.
“I don’t think it will be as tough as you think,” I replied. “We have enough truck drivers to handle several semi-trucks full of equipment and supplies. That only leaves the people to move. We have enough vehicles that we should be able to do it in one trip.”
“That will be one hell of a convoy,” said Southard, grinning. “I’m not looking forward to riding herd on that many vehicles.”
“We already have the route established,” I said, sipping my coffee. “We might have to rethink the part that goes through Strafford and along the outer road. There are other back roads that will make it to that overpass over the interstate.”
“That shouldn’t be too difficult,” said Southard. “I know those roads pretty well. If they’re as clear as the other back roads, we shouldn’t have too many problems getting everyone here.”
“Alright, then,” I said, standing up. “Let’s go clear some buildings.”
Becca, Jeff, Vivian and the twins stayed behind in the bunker. We’d talked about that over breakfast. They wouldn’t be going out on any runs, any time soon. Jeff now had the radio and knew how to use it. Becca was going to help with the running of the facility, not be in any capacity where she could put us in danger. Elliott, Spec-4, Southard and I headed out to begin checking buildings.
We opened the door to the stairs very carefully. I didn’t want to open it to find a group of the dead waiting for us. With no one to draw them down, there was no reason for them to come down the stairs. They didn’t seem to do well with stairs. As long as nothing attracted them, they seemed to avoid any type of incline. Maybe it was because of their unstable walking. Whatever the reason, it kept them from approaching certain types of obstacles.
I breathed a sigh of relief when the stairwell was clear. Jeff locked the door behind us and we headed up the stairs as quietly as possible. I could still see the bloody spot on the wall left by the deer. I paused at the top of the stairs to listen for sounds of movement. Hearing nothing, we filed out and swept the small building. Seconds later, it was clear and we met in the hallway.
“I figured we’d at least find one or two stragglers,” said Southard, shrugging his shoulders.
“I did too,” agreed Spec-4. “There’s no sign of the dead or the deer carcass. It’s not like them to carry off the bones.”
We stepped outside into the daylight and swept the immediate area. Elliott and I went to the right while Spec-4 and Southard went to the left. We circled the entire building and met at the back of the building.
“This is strange,” I muttered as we lowered our weapons. “I don’t see a damned thing.”
“It’s gonna get stranger,” said Southard. “Remember that body of the Stalker that we dumped behind the building?”
“Yeah,” I replied, curiously.
“It’s gone,” he stated. “The entire fucking thing is gone.”
“What?” I asked, surprised.
“He’s right,” said Spec-4. “I can see the impression in the grass where it was, but there’s not a single piece of it left.”
“Maybe the Stalkers carry off their dead,” suggested Elliott.
“Makes about as much sense as anything I can think of,” added Southard. “It would certainly explain all of the bones we saw at the entrance to the cave.”
“That means we didn’t get them all,” I said. “There’s another cave or building where they’re hiding out.”
“Then we’d better pay close attention when we sweep these buildings,” I said. “I don’t want to walk into a dark room full of Stalkers.”
“Are we still planning on bringing the others here with Stalkers still in the area?” asked Spec-4.
“I don’t see that we have much choice,” I replied. “We can all crowd into the bunker for a while. Once we have everyone here, we can clear and secure the entire park.”
“Especially once we bring out those armored vehicles,” said Southard. “The Strykers’ alone, pack enough firepower to clear any group of the dead we come across.”
“So why don’t we just go back for the others, now?” asked Elliott. “Why risk clearing the buildings with just us here?”
“He’s got a point,” said Spec-4.
“I want to get a good look around before we commit to bringing in everyone,” I explained. “If these buildings aren’t what we need, we can make other plans. I want to know this is where we’re going to be staying before we move everyone here.”
“Fair enough,” said Southard.
Our first stop was the Visitor’s Center. The front doors were intact, but unlocked. Switching on our tactical lights, we slipped inside and swept down the aisles in the small store. The coolers still had supplies in them, but only the bottled water and soda would be usable. The refrigerated foods were long-since spoiled. In less than two minutes, we had cleared the building completely.
Pausing long enough to grab an energy drink each, we headed back out into the daylight. I took a piece of twine out of my backpack and tied the doors shut with it. It wouldn’t stop any of the undead from going in, but it would let us know if anything went inside. That would let us know if the building was still clear or not.
We cleared the exterior bathrooms in seconds. I marked them as cleared by shutting a piece of paper in the door. If anyone opened it, the paper would fall out and we’d know if anyone or anything had opened it. It wasn’t foolproof, but it would outsmart even the most intelligent of the undead. At least, I hoped it would. The Stalkers were showing signs of intelligence, but it was predator level. Not problem solving intelligence. If they got that smart, we were in a lot of trouble.
We spent the next couple of hours, clearing buildings along the main road towards the cabins. I wanted to clear the cabins, but decided to leave the larger apartment buildings for when we had more people. It would take one team a couple of days to clear them by themselves. I didn’t want to spend that kind of time on this project. In fact, I planned on returning to the Underground to begin relocation first thing in the morning.
After we finished clearing the last cabin, we all gathered along the edge of the water. I wanted to see how high the water was and how fast it was moving. I wasn’t disappointed. The river was nearly ten feet above its normal level and the water was flowing very swiftly. I could see the occasional tree swept by in the current, only to disappear quickly as the river dragged it farther downstream.
Elliott and I walked a little further down towards the old wooden bridge to look at the boat ramp. That’s when I noticed something out of place. There in the mud along the edge of the river was the fresh impression of the hull of a boat. I could tell by the condition of the mud and the amount of water in the impression that it was recent. I would guess that it was less than a day old.
“Holy shit,” I said, kneeling down beside the impression.
“What is it, dad?” asked Elliott.
“Someone brought a boat in here,” I said, pointing at the track. “Looks fresh, too.”
I could see boot prints, as well. It looked like two people had exited the boat. They both wore boots that were size nine and a half or ten. I would guess that they weighed around 200 pounds. Either they were men or very big women. From the shape of the tracks, I would say they were walking on the way in. The impressions leading back to the boat seemed to indicate that they were running. Most of the weight was on the toes and the impressions were smeared.
“I think they must have come in the night,” I said. “For one thing, we didn’t hear the
m yesterday. For another, they left in a hell of a hurry. I’d guess that the Stalkers chased them out.”
“DAD!” screamed Elliott.
I turned to look where he was pointing and saw four Sprinters running right at Southard and Spec-4. They had come from out of the trees and were almost on top of them before they even saw them coming. They were already attacking them before I could even scream a warning.
The first one slammed into Southard. Chuck reacted like a pro, grabbing the arm and twisting it around. He then executed a perfect toss, throwing the Sprinter off into the churning water. It disappeared beneath the muddy water and didn’t resurface. The next one grabbed for Spec-4, but she side-stepped and drove the butt of her rifle into it’s face. It fell over backwards, both from the blow and from its own momentum.
The third Sprinter took Southard to the ground in a tangle of arms and legs. They rolled on the ground with Southard managing to keep the snapping jaws away from him, but that wouldn’t last forever. Spec-4 was dragged to the ground by the last of the Sprinters and they tumbled to the edge of the embankment, right above the churning water.
Elliott and I broke into a sprint, heading in to help. We were almost thirty yards way. The Sprinter that Spec-4 had hit with her rifle was getting up and I snap fired a shot as I ran. My first shot hit it in the left shoulder, which only managed to bring it’s attention on me. My second shot struck it in the forehead, dropping it instantly.
Elliott was more than twenty years younger than me and in much better shape. He outdistanced me without much effort. Since both Southard and Spec-4 were tangled up with the two dead, we couldn’t risk shooting them. I watched as Elliott adjusted his course and drove his shoulder into the side of the Sprinter that was on top of Spec-4. The force of the blow knocked the creature off of her, but it dragged Elliott off of the embankment and into the dark water below.
“NO!” I screamed as I closed the distance.
I started to dive into the water after him, when Southard grabbed me from behind and pulled me back.
“Don’t do it, Wylie!” he shouted. “You won’t make it.”
Ragnarok Rising: The Crossing (The Ragnarok Rising Saga) Page 11