The Reckoning - 02

by D. A. Roberts

  I took my Thor’s Hammer from around my neck and slipped it around his. He looked quizzically at it in the dim light of the flashlights. He held it in his fingers and stared at it, rubbing it gently, reverently.

  “I can’t take this,” he said, without looking up. “I know how much it means to you.”

  “Take it,” I said, patting him on the shoulder. “It’s always brought me strength. Right now, you need it more than I do. Thor’s a Warrior’s God. Wear that with pride. We’re still in this fight, and we’ll make our families and ancestors proud.”

  “I don’t have a family anymore.”

  “Yes you do,” I said. “Part of Asatru is being part of a Kindred. A Kindred is much more than just a family. You’ve always been part of mine, even if you didn’t know it. You’re family to me. You all are.”

  “A Kindred….”

  “We’ve got work to do,” I said, gently. “I need you with me. You can’t be doing things like what you just did. You’ll get us all killed.”

  “I’m sorry,” he said, looking down at his chest.

  “Don’t sweat it,” I said, “Just remember that we’re all in this together.”

  “I will,” he said, looking up at me.

  “And one more thing,” I said.

  “Yeah?”

  “I think you knocked out one of my teeth,” I said, grinning.

  “Really?” he asked, looking shocked.

  “No,” I answered. “You hit like a girl.”

  That made him grin and he almost looked like the old Chuck Southard, again.

  “You’re just lucky I used my left hand,” he replied, smiling broadly.

  “Come on,” I said, recovering my flashlight from the floor. “Let’s go help the others.”

  We headed farther into the library. We met Spec-4 and Bowman near the main desk. Matthews and John were just returning from the east side of the library.

  “We’re all clear,” said Spec-4, softly. “The exits are secure and I didn’t see any sign of anyone or anything inside.”

  “Same goes for us,” said John. “We’re clear.”

  “Good,” I said. “Let’s get some books and get the hell out of here.”

  “How do we find the books we need?” asked Bowman. “The computers are all down.”

  “Easy,” I replied. “We do it the old fashioned way. We use the Dewey Decimal System.”

  “Look at the ends of the shelves,” said John. “They’re labeled.”

  “Hit the 500 and 600 sections,” I said. “That’s sciences and technology.”

  “How’d you know that?” asked Spec-4.

  “When I was a kid, I spent a lot of time in libraries,” I replied. “And that was back before everything was on the computers.”

  “Yeah, it was originally called the Wylie Decimal System,” said Southard.

  I gave him the infamous one-fingered universal sign language and grinned at him. Everyone got a good chuckle out of that. Southard just flashed me a smirk and headed off towards the reference section.

  Everyone split up to cover the most area. Bowman and Matthews stayed near the desk to cover the exits, just in case something tried to get inside. The rest of us went book hunting. My first stop was in the mid 600’s. I snagged every book they had on brewing and distilling alcohol. Not just for the drinking value, either. Alcohol would be a valuable fuel, once gasoline was unattainable. You could run just about anything on alcohol with a few modifications.

  Next stop was the mid 500’s. I was looking for one book in particular. I knew it would be here. I looked through it before when I was researching hunting spots near the lake. It was a reference book, so I knew it couldn’t be checked out. It had to be here, unless someone else had already done what I had in mind.

  After a few moments of searching, I found it. It was a large, heavy book, but it would be worth its weight in gold to us. It was a book of topographical maps of the state of Missouri and would be a valuable asset if we were going to find an alternate location to set up a defensible shelter. This book would give us detailed maps of types of terrain, elevation and both natural and man-made features.

  We took our time and made certain that we collected every book that we thought might come in handy. We grabbed books on gardening, farming, chemistry, medicine, mechanics, metallurgy and several other subjects. All in all, it was enough to fill several bags with heavy books. Once we were satisfied that we’d gotten everything we needed, we gathered by the main desk to distribute the weight amongst ourselves.

  “I’m going to take a peek outside and see if the coast is clear,” I said, and headed off towards the back door.

  Southard followed me and we crept down the hallway and crouched near the door. Outside, the fire was still burning from the truck that Southard had shot. A crowd of zombies had gathered near the wreckage, but just seemed to be milling around. There were several burned bodies lying on the ground from zombies that had been too close when the truck exploded.

  Staying low, we crept back down the hallway to the others. Then I headed off to the west side of the building to look out the windows. There were a few zombies milling around on the west side, but not many. We might have a shot at getting back to the jail, if we went fast and hard. We’d be running and shooting the entire way, but we had a good chance of success if Master Control got the gate open quickly.

  Smiling, I headed back to the others.

  “Well folks,” I said, “I think we’ve got a shot at getting back, if we move quickly. It’s not going to be pretty, though. I don’t see a way of sneaking back.”

  “Sorry,” muttered Southard.

  “Forget it, Chuck,” I said. “Let’s worry about getting back, not who did what. We’ve all done dumb stuff before.”

  “Especially you,” said Spec-4. “Like when you jumped out of a vehicle that was surrounded by zombies.”

  “Yeah,” I agreed. “I’ve pulled my share of bonehead maneuvers.”

  “How many are there in the way?” asked Bowman.

  “Five or six,” I replied. “But the others will be after us the moment we use the guns.”

  “Why not use the bows, then?” asked John. “That is why we brought them.”

  “That’s not a bad idea,” I said, smiling. “We can open the door and thin them out a bit. If they notice us, we can switch weapons.”

  We split the four bags of books between Bowman, Matthews, Southard and Spec-4. She insisted on taking one, since John and I would need the freedom to use the bows. It made sense, but I didn’t want to overload her. Out of all of us there, she was the smallest by far. The bag of books weighed almost as much as she did.

  “I’ll keep an eye on her,” said Bowman, guessing my thoughts. “If she gets into trouble, I’ll take the bag.”

  I was confident that Big Johnny Bowman could carry both of their bags of books, his gear and Spec-4, if he had to. It was going to be my job to cover him while he did it.

  “Alright,” I answered. “Let’s get ready to move. Once we eliminate the stragglers, you guys make a run for it. John and I will bring up the rear and pick off any dead we see that get too close.”

  John and I both drew and nocked an arrow. Then I nodded once at Southard. With a grim look on his face, he pulled out the mop handle that was locking the door. Gently, he began pushing it open, careful not to make any noise. Once it was open about a foot, John released his first shaft. I hadn’t even found my first target when I heard his arrow strike home with a wet THUNK.

  John was readying his second arrow when I got my first target. It was a Shambler about twenty yards away. My focus narrowed to the combat and I felt the old skills returning to my fingers. I could feel the beating of my heart in my chest and hear it in my skull. I released the shaft and it flew true. With a slight shimmy in the flight, the arrow streaked the distance between us and struck the Shambler in the left side of the head, just behind the ear and continued on out the other side. It dropped like a stone.

  The
n, time lurched and things started moving quickly. Two arrows each later and John and I had taken down four more zombies. Then I motioned for everyone to move out. Drawing an arrow as I moved, I advanced to the edge of the building. John took up position next to me and we took out two more targets. The others headed across the parking lot, retracing our steps towards the jail.

  John nodded at me and turned to follow the others. I began walking backwards, releasing another arrow as I went. It flew straight into the face of a Sprinter that was coming our way from the street. A quick glance to my left showed me that none of the zombies had made it past the burning wreckage of the parts truck. That was good.

  Dropping the last zombie that was in the immediate area, I turned and trotted after the others. They were a good thirty yards ahead of me, but I was moving fast. They were descending the stairs behind the utility office when I caught up with them. I paused long enough to send feathered death to a Shambler who appeared around the back of the building.

  I readied another arrow and scanned the area quickly. The only zombies around us were too far away to be a threat. Just as I was turning to head down the stairs, a Shrieker began its hideous cry. My head snapped around instantly. It was standing near the vehicle gate, directly across the street from us. Unfortunately, they were blocking our entry back into the jail.

  “Weapons hot!” I bellowed, releasing the arrow.

  Mine struck the Shrieker a split second after John’s did. His went through the left eye and mine went through the throat. Not bad for a nearly forty yard shot. Instantly, the Shrieker fell silent and tumbled over backwards, to rise no more. The nearly fifty zombies that were crowded around the gate were all turning towards us. Just as everyone was bringing up weapons, a thought occurred to me.

  “Check fire! Check fire!” I screamed. “Do NOT shoot!”

  “Why the hell not?” bellowed Bowman.

  “We’ve got people on the other side of that gate,” I yelled. “We might hit them!”

  “Copy that!” yelled Spec-4. “What now?”

  “Haul ass for the delivery gate,” I shouted. “Once they follow us into the street, we’re clear to fire.”

  Everyone headed south behind the utility building. The zombies were already advancing on us, but there didn’t seem to be any Sprinters in the bunch. At least, so far. I rounded the corner of the building last, and the zombies were less than ten yards away. I slung the bow across my chest and let it hang there as I pulled out my M-4.

  I dropped the safety on the M-4 just as I heard weapons fire ahead of me. I knew we only had a few minutes before we attracted every zombie in the area down on us. Unfortunately, the zombies were gaining ground and numbers. For every yard we ran, they closed two. For every zombie we took out, two more appeared from around the corner of the jail fence. This was going to the hot place in a hurry.

  “700, get that back gate open!” I screamed into the radio mic.

  “700, copy,” came the reply. “Assistance is standing by inside the delivery area.”

  “Outstanding,” I snapped. “Just have that gate open.”

  We rounded the corner of the office building behind the jail and saw the gate starting to swing open. Inside, I saw three officers with assault rifles holding position behind the Charger I’d driven in. Hope swelled in my chest and I urged the others onward.

  “Keep going!” I shouted. “Get inside. I’ve got our back.”

  I turned and flipped the M-4 from semi-auto to auto and engaged the trigger. In seconds, I emptied my magazine. I succeeded in causing the front dozen or so to stumble. This bought us a few seconds of precious time. I continued to run backwards as I reloaded. I had the presence of mind to throw the empty magazine over my shoulder and through the open gate. I was just chambering a fresh round, when the officers behind me opened fire.

  No sooner than I cleared the gate, Master Control started shutting it. The zombies were less than twenty yards from the gate when it closed completely. Admittedly, there were quite a few less of them than there had been. As soon as it shut someone started the FedEx truck and drove it right up against the gate, sealing it off.

  Lowering my weapon, I turned a complete circle. After a quick headcount, I noted that we’d all made it inside the gates. That was good news. For a moment there, I didn’t think any of us would make it. I breathed a sigh of relief and a silent prayer.

  “Anyone hurt?” I shouted. “Everyone good?”

  “Clear,” said Spec-4, waving in my direction.

  “I’m good,” said Bowman.

  “Me too,” said Southard.

  Matthews and John just gave me a thumbs-up and a nod. We were all fine. Out of breath, but fine. Returning my weapon to safe, I lowered it to point at the ground.

  “Alright everyone,” I said. “Let’s get back inside and unload.”

  I had to smile. Phase one of my plan was complete and it would only get harder from here. I just hoped that we had enough time to do all the things we needed to do to prepare for a full-scale evacuation. We weren’t ready and I had no way of knowing how long we had to prepare. I hoped the All-Father was watching over us. We were going to need it.

  Chapter Eleven

  To The Rescue

  “Confront them with annihilation, and they will then survive; plunge them into a deadly situation, and they will then live. When people fall into danger, they are then able to strive for victory.”

  - Sun Tzu

  It was almost dark by the time we all made it back inside the jail. I felt the weight of the day’s action bearing down on me. I was bone-weary to the point of almost dropping. I didn’t even feel like eating, but Karen and the boys were waiting for me in the officer’s break room with a plate of food. How could I say no?

  Dropping my pack, I slid into a chair and sighed. Evan sat a tray in front of me, loaded with three hamburgers and a pile of French fries. I couldn’t help but smile. They must have thought I’d worked up a Herculean appetite to eat that much food. I didn’t have the heart to tell them that I wasn’t really hungry.

  “Thanks,” I said, grinning. “I doubt I can eat all of this.”

  “We’ll help,” said Erik, sliding into the chair across from me.

  Karen sat next to me and handed me a cup of coffee. I raised an eyebrow and looked at it dubiously. It didn’t smell like Booking Sludge, but I’d been fooled before.

  “Relax,” she chided. “I made it in the pot in Master Control.”

  I smiled and took a sip. It was definitely my wife’s coffee. I closed my eyes and let the flavor take me back to happier places. I felt her fingers caress my face, tracing the fresh scar that now dominated my face. It was a rapidly purpling line that ran from my lip, across my nose and above my eyebrow. It didn’t hurt anymore. In fact, it had healed far faster than I had expected it to. Faster than even Maddie thought it should. I guess I could chock it up to luck.

  “Are you alright?” she whispered in my ear. “I’ve never seen you so hurt, before.”

  “I’m fine, babe,” I reassured her, opening my eyes. “It’s just a scar.”

  I glanced down at my plate to grab some food and found it almost empty. My three sons were sitting across from me, each eating a burger. I had to chuckle at that. Shrugging, I started eating the fries. I didn’t care, I wasn’t that hungry anyway.

  “Boys,” said Karen, “I thought those were for your dad.”

  “They’re fine,” I said, laughing. “I’m just happy to be sitting here with you guys.”

  We sat there for a while, just soaking in each other’s company. The boys ate the burgers, most of the fries and nearly emptied the tea cooler. I ate a few fries and sipped my coffee. If we hadn’t been sitting in the jail, I probably could have convinced myself that everything was back to normal. Well, at least for a little while, anyway.

  I slipped my arm around Karen and just held her there, her head on my shoulder. I didn’t want this time to end, but I knew it was going to. I did something I used to do when t
here was a special occasion. I held this moment in my mind’s eye and let it sink in. This would be a good memory, one that would help me through darker times to come. I knew they would be coming soon.

  Almost as if on cue, I heard the door to the break room open. I closed my eyes for a second and took a deep breath. I felt Karen tense up in my arms. I could tell she knew something was wrong. Opening my eyes, I turned my head and saw Southard walking in. The look on his face told me it wasn’t good news.

  “Hi, Karen,” he said, forcing a smile. “What’s up, boys?”

  “Hi, Chuck,” Karen replied, her voice tense. “What’s wrong?”

  “Uh…nothing,” he stammered, lying badly. “I just need to borrow Wylie for a few minutes. It’s no big deal.”

  “I’ll be right back,” I said, reluctantly letting go of Karen.

  I could tell she didn’t believe me by the look in her eyes. Nevertheless, she didn’t protest. I slipped out of her grasp and stood up. Elliot, my oldest son got up to follow. This time, I didn’t stop him. The three of us headed out the door and into the hallway.

  “You sure you want to be here, Elliot?” I asked.

  “Yeah, dad,” he said, confidently. “If we’re gonna get through this, we’ll all need to do our part. I’m ready.”

  “Alright, son,” I said, gripping his shoulder. “I know you are. Just stick close and do as I tell you. You’ll be fine.”

  Turning to Southard, I had to suppress a smile. I was very proud of my son. I just had to make sure I did my part and kept him safe.

  “What’s going on, Chuck?”

  “Corporal Halsey’s up on the roof,” he said. “He thinks we might want to get up there and take a look at something.”

  “Elliot, grab my pack and gear for me,” I said.

  Elliot headed into the break room and I turned back to Southard.

  “Something you’re not saying, Chuck?”

  “We might not have as much time to get out of here as you think,” he said. “We’ve got moving aircraft.”

  “How many?”

  “Not sure,” he replied. “Halsey said multiple fast movers.”