Ragnarok Rising: The Crossing (The Ragnarok Rising Saga)

by Roberts, D. A.

  “Holy shit,” said Southard. “A town full of Stalkers. I hope you’re wrong about that.”

  “Me, too,” I muttered.

  Fortunately for us, the sky was clear and the sun was almost directly overhead. We still had hours of daylight left before we needed to be safely back inside the bunker. I planned to be back long before dark. In fact, I doubted that I would feel any better about this until I heard the big doors of the bunker shut behind us. Even then, the thought of a town full of Stalkers would haunt my dreams.

  We continued on, past the High School and towards the main part of town. The first businesses we passed looked like Convenience Stores. Both buildings had been hit hard, either by looters or by the dead. All of the glass had been busted out and the interiors looked to be in shambles. A couple of blocks later, we found a grocery story that looked to be in the same condition.

  It occurred to me that any place that sold food or useful supplies looked like it had been through a riot. I wanted to get a closer look, but my first priority was to find the survivors and get out of here. Some mysteries could wait until we had more time. In fact, some of the questions didn’t need to be answered, at all. I didn’t really care what caused the damage. All I cared about was getting us all out of here alive.

  I slowed to a crawl as we approached a small drive-in restaurant next to a Stop’N’Rob. Surprisingly, the two of them were intact. All of their windows were still in place and there didn’t seem to be anything wrong, from what I could see through the windows. It was out of place enough that I decided I wanted to take a closer look.

  “Why are we stopping here?” asked Spec-4.

  “Notice anything different about these two places?” I asked, gesturing at them both.

  “They don’t look like they’ve been through a war,” suggested Snake.

  “Precisely,” I said, nodding at him. “What makes these places so different?”

  Pulling into the parking lot, I stopped the vehicle close to the gas pumps. Checking my mental map of the area, I knew we were within a couple of blocks of the Sheriff’s Office and Jail. It was worth taking a moment to see if there was anything left worth taking. It was a small department. They might not have had time to use everything in their armory before things went to hell. If there was anything left, we’d take it.

  Out of the corner of my eye, something stood out about the Convenience Store. There was just something there that I couldn’t quite put my finger on. Something was tugging at the back of my brain, screaming that something was very wrong. It wasn’t the “hey, you’re about to get shot at” feeling that I get sometimes. This was more of a “what’s wrong with this picture?” kind of feeling.

  I nodded at Spec-4 and we got out of the Humvee at the same time. Bringing up our weapons, I motioned for the other two to stay put. If things went bad, I wanted someone to be able to cover us. Southard got the idea of what I meant and climbed into the turret, locking and loading the SAW. I flashed him a quick smile and turned back to the store.

  Spec-4 and I fanned out, putting about twenty feet between us. As we advanced towards the front of the store, my brain kept up the alert. Something was wrong with what I was seeing. I froze mid-step when the realization dawned on me. There was a light on in the back of the store. It wasn’t a big light, but it was definitely not the light of the sun. For one thing, sunlight isn’t blue.

  “There’s a light on inside,” I said, whispering to Spec-4.

  “I see it,” she said. “What does it mean?”

  “Maybe nothing,” I said, shaking my head. “It might be nothing or it might mean that this town still has power.”

  “It might be something that runs on batteries,” she suggested.

  “Still running after over a month?” I replied.

  She just shrugged and flashed me an apologetic smile.

  “What do you think it is, then?” she asked.

  “I’m not sure,” I said, “but whatever it is, it might mean something good for us.”

  We headed up to the door and peered inside. I lit up my tactical light and pointed it inside, panning around the aisles and near the register. I didn’t see any signs of movement or of life. No blood trails or bodies could be seen. The place looked like it was closed, not shutdown for the zombie apocalypse.

  The doors were locked and the glass was unbroken. Since it wasn’t a particularly strong looking lock, I decided we would risk a little noise. Letting my Beowulf hang from its strap, I reached behind my back and grabbed my hammer. I shoved the pry bar end into the lock and leaned back, putting my entire weight on the bar. The lock groaned and creaked, then snapped with a loud crack!

  Spec-4 kept the area covered while I put my hammer away and brought up my own rifle. We waited for almost a minute, listening for any sounds of either the dead or the living coming our way. All we heard was the wind whispering between the buildings. The silence was unnerving.

  “Let’s sweep the building,” I said, softly.

  “Right behind you, boss,” she replied, smiling.

  We both took our weapons off of safe and slipped inside. We stuck together and swept the interior of the store. We cleared the aisles and behind the counter. The only place we hadn’t been was inside the cooler and the storage area. I located the source of the blue light. It was coming from inside the coolers and could be seen through the glass doors.

  I noticed that most of the canned goods were missing from the shelves and the coolers had been depleted. However, the store did not look like it had been ransacked. It was in surprisingly good order. We moved over to the door that led to the storage area and the entrance to the cooler, and slipped inside. There was still no sign of movement.

  When we entered the cooler, we were both shocked by what waited for us. On the floor were two makeshift bedrolls. The light was coming from a hand-crank powered lantern with an LED light bulb. There were empty cans of food and bottles of beverages in this room. Someone had been using this cooler as a shelter. What’s more, was since the lantern was still lit up, they couldn’t have been gone for very long.

  “Wylie!” said Southard through the radio. “We’ve got company.”

  Spec-4 and I headed out the door as quickly as we could move. As we trotted past the liquor shelves, I snagged a big bottle of Southern Comfort. We checked the area before we went out the door. I could see that Southard was looking away to the south, towards the railroad tracks. I couldn’t see what he was looking at, so we headed for the Humvee.

  “Here,” I said, tossing the bottle to Southard. “Something for the road.”

  “Thanks,” he said, grinning. “I know just what to do with this.”

  Almost lovingly, he tucked it into his pack and set it gently inside the vehicle.

  “What do you have?” I asked, glancing around.

  “We just saw movement near the railroad tracks,” he said, pointing.

  I grabbed my binoculars from my pack and started scanning the area south of us. At first, I didn’t see anything. Just as I was about to pan away and scan another section, I caught a glimpse of a shadow moving on the ground. Adjusting the binoculars, I found what Southard had seen. It was a group of the dead. They looked to be all Shamblers, but looks could be deceiving. Sprinters and Shriekers sometimes moved in groups with the others. You never knew what it was until it was too late.

  They were moving among several parked cars. I counted eight of them and they appeared to be shuffling to the west, ignoring their surroundings. Obviously, they had not noticed us. As they began to cross the road, one of the zombies towards the rear seemed to slow down. The others didn’t seem to notice and kept moving. When the group was about ten yards ahead of the straggler, it did something I’ve never seen a zombie do. It began looking in the cars and checking to see if they were locked.

  I watched as it peered in windows and seemed to be looking for something in particular. When it didn’t find anything, it began moving off after the others. It moved at a slightly faster pace to
catch up, without drawing too much attention to itself. Just as the group reached the western side of the four lane road, the straggler rejoined the group and resumed keeping pace with them, as if nothing had even changed.

  “What the hell was that?” I asked, rhetorically.

  “What was what?” asked Spec-4.

  It occurred to me that without binoculars, she wouldn't be able to see what I was talking about.

  “One of the dead was acting really odd,” I said.

  “How so?” she asked.

  I tried to explain it as best as I could. I wasn’t sure if I could make it make sense. Mainly because I wasn’t sure that what I had seen made any sense at all. The only time I’d ever seen the dead try to get into a vehicle was in pursuit of prey. This one just seemed to be looking for items. I’m not sure what that meant but I’m pretty certain that it wasn’t good for any of us.

  “What do you think it means?” asked Spec-4, looking perplexed.

  “I have no idea,” I said. “If there had been something alive in those cars, they would all be pounding on the glass trying to get to it.”

  “So, what do we do, now?” asked Southard.

  “I want to get a closer look at it,” I said, frowning. “I want to know what’s different about it.”

  “Want to chase them down with the Humvee and run them all over?” asked Southard, grinning.

  “Nothing that dramatic,” I said, shaking my head. “I was thinking about having you and Snake wait here with the Humvee and sneaking ahead of them. Then we could hide and watch them.”

  “What are you looking for?” asked Spec-4. “What do you think you’ll find?”

  “I don’t know,” I said, frowning. “I just want to know more about it. If this is something new, we need to know about it. The more information we gather on the types of the dead, the better off we’ll be trying to fend them off.”

  “Good point,” said Southard.

  “Keep your radios on,” I said. “We’re going to sneak over a couple of blocks and get ahead of them. If we call, come get us in a hurry. We’re not going to engage unless we don’t have a choice.”

  “Got it,” said Southard. “Be careful.”

  “We will,” said Spec-4, chuckling.

  “I meant both of you,” said Southard, defensively.

  Grabbing my pack and all of my extra gear, I started getting ready to move. Spec-4 did the same thing and shouldered her own pack. Once we were loaded, we turned on our radios and headed off across the street. I knew the streets of Lebanon fairly well, since I had family that lived there. I wondered if they had made it. I grew up in a family of hillbillies from rural Missouri. If anyone could have headed for the hills and survived, it would have been my brothers and sisters.

  Crossing a bank parking lot and down a short alley, we came out on a narrow street. I still didn’t see any other movement, so we darted across the street and into the cover of long shadows cast by the afternoon sun. I glanced down the street to the south and only saw empty storefronts. There were only a couple of cars parked along the street, which unfortunately meant there wasn’t much in the way of cover.

  Crouching low, I headed for the nearest parked car. It was an older model Oldsmobile with a dented front fender. I think the original color might have been white, but it had faded to a sickly shade of yellow that looked like bad pudding. The vinyl roof had cracked and peeled in numerous spots along the top.

  I took cover behind the rear quarter panel and peered around the back bumper. Spec-4 slid in behind me and put her back against the back door of the car. I still didn’t see any movement from the undead, so I planned my next hiding spot. There was a red S-10 pick-up parked in front of a big brick building that had different colored bricks at the top, spelling out the words “Joe Knight '48.”

  I nodded at Spec-4 and motioned towards the truck. She nodded once at me and peeked over the back edge of the trunk. She kept her back against the car and craned her neck over to peer down the street. Then she slid back down to her original position and smiled as she turned to look at me.

  “All clear,” she whispered.

  I didn’t wait for another chance. I just crouched and spun around the back of the car, moving as fast as I could towards the little red truck. Ducking behind the cab, I glanced up to see Spec-4 start her run towards me. I went to the ground and lay in the prone position, aiming my weapon at the spot behind the building across the street where I anticipated the undead to emerge. I breathed a sigh of relief when I felt Spec-4 pat me on the leg to let me know she’d made it.

  “See anything?” she whispered.

  “Nothing, yet,” I said. “They’re moving pretty slow. They should be here any second, though.”

  I kept my weapon trained on the spot. The ACOG sight on it gave me a good view of the entire area. In fact, at this range I could snipe them all with little or no problems. The only thing that would give me away was the report of my weapon. It would be in my best interests to have a silenced weapon with some range. As much as I loved the Beowulf, I might have to consider switching to something I could silence, for times just like this.

  Spec-4 watched our backs while I waited for the dead to emerge. I didn’t have to wait very long. The first one stumbled into view from the alleyway that ran between the buildings and the railroad tracks. I had to resist the urge to take the shot and watch its head erupt in a fountain of crimson gore, but the mental image did put a smile on my face.

  I wasn’t sure what I was expecting, but what I saw certainly wasn’t it. The zombie stepped out into the road, and then began looking around. It looked in our direction, but we were well concealed and not moving. When it turned towards us, I could see the face clearly. The features were horribly disfigured, with vicious wounds to the cheeks and lips. The eyes were the feature that surprised me.

  The dead have very distinctive eyes. They cloud up very quickly, giving them an almost milky appearance. This one’s eyes were bright and clear. There was no indication of cloudiness or discoloration. They even darted back and forth as the “zombie” continued to scan its area, looking for something. That nagging feeling in the pit of my stomach was telling me that something was very, very wrong.

  “What the fuck?” I whispered.

  “What’s going on?” Spec-4 said, quietly.

  “Something isn’t right,” I said. “There's something wrong about this zombie. I can’t figure it out.”

  “Why do you say that?”

  “There’s something wrong with its eyes,” I explained, keeping my voice low.

  “Is it something new?” she asked, sounding worried.

  “I’m not sure,” I replied, keeping my crosshairs on the thing in front of me. “It could be. It might have only recently turned, though.”

  “How do the wounds look?” she asked, sliding down next to me.

  “Pretty nasty,” I replied. “They aren’t fresh-looking at all.”

  “Then it couldn’t be recently turned,” she replied, laying her own weapon down and sighting in. “I’ve got a suppressor. Should I take the shot?”

  “Not yet,” I replied, after a brief hesitation.

  As more of the dead began to emerge, I scanned their faces closely. The only one whose eyes were clear was the first one. The rest had the milky eyes I’d come to expect in the undead. When all eight of them made it into the street, I decided to take a chance at it.

  “Do you think you can take them all without giving away our position?” I asked, glancing at Spec-4.

  “I’m pretty sure I can drop them all before they get anywhere near us,” she said, winking at me.

  “Take ‘em,” I said, nodding.

  Turning back to her weapon, she began lining up her first shot. I watched in the ACOG, in case I needed to engage as well. I really didn’t want to make that much noise, but if we discovered that this crowd had Sprinters in it, then we might not have a choice. I heard the suppressed cough of her weapon and saw the first target go down with a
headshot. Then she moved on to the next target.

  The undead just seemed to keep moving. Without any loud noises, they were oblivious to their fellow dead being taken out. Only the one with the odd eyes took notice. He looked around, frantically searching for the source of the shooting. When the third zombie fell to the ground, it seemed to panic.

  The odd zombie broke and ran for a parked car. The other zombies seemed to take note of the sudden movement and turned towards it. The oddball dove behind a parked SUV and stayed down. Spec-4 took out two more while I watched to see if the weird one would break cover and run for it. While I was waiting, zombies six and seven fell to the ground to rise no more. Now the only one left was the one behind the car.

  “Did that zombie just dive for cover?” she asked, wide eyed.

  “Yeah,” I confirmed. “I believe it did.”

  “What now?”

  “Let’s move in and get a closer look,” I said, getting to my feet.

  Spec-4 stood up next to me and we headed for the parked SUV. I went to the right and she swung wide and to the left. We would flank it on either side, catching it in a crossfire. If it acted aggressive in any way, we’d take it out. No questions asked. I had the distinct feeling that this was something entirely new. Just what, I had no idea.

  As I approached by walking down the sidewalk, I could see the feet of the thing as it crouched behind the front tire. Spec-4 was keeping pace with me, but far enough away from the back of the SUV that it couldn’t rush her easily. We were going to have to be very cautious. If it was just another type of undead, I wanted to learn more about it. If it was something new, then we were going to have to be very careful.

  Keeping my weapon at the ready, I approached not sure what to expect. Suddenly, it leapt to its feet bringing its hands up rapidly. Instinct took over and I squeezed the trigger without thinking about it. The massive roar of the Beowulf thundered in the narrow streets, echoing loudly in every direction rolling off of buildings and repeating off into the distance. Stealth was gone. Beowulf had spoken.