The Reckoning - 02

by D. A. Roberts

  Several minutes passed and I had the wound closed and bandaged. She came through it like a trooper. Hel, she took it better than I would have. I had a vial of antibiotics in my first aid kit, so I gave her a shot. I had to guess at the dosage, so I think I erred on the side of caution. You can’t overdose on antibiotics, as far as I know. When I was done, she was sound asleep. That was good. She deserved some rest.

  Once she was asleep, I headed back down the stairs to check on our new friend. I found a lantern in the back room. It was hand-crank powered, so I wound it up for a bit before turning it on. The electric-blue light of the LED bulb cast an eerie glow to the rest of the room. Holding it above my head, I walked into the main room. I was surprised to find our “guest” was not where I had left him.

  Switching the lantern to my left hand, I drew the old Colt and cocked the hammer back. I could hear the thunder sounding outside the building, but I couldn’t see the lightning that I knew had to be lighting up the sky. As I began to sweep the room, I half expected to find him loose from his cuffs and waiting for me with a gun. Gods knew there were enough of them in this room to arm a small army.

  I found him behind the counter. He had gotten the laces off of his ankles and slipped his cuffs around in front of him. I’ve seen people do it before by threading the chain over their feet and bringing them in front. It’s really not that difficult, if you’re limber enough. Apparently, he was. It had just registered in my brain that he had his cuffs in front when he raised a pistol at me. I ducked as he fired and I heard the bullet whiz past my head.

  I dove behind a table full of hunting gear and returned fire. The thundering boom of the big Colt sounded like a cannon in the close confines of the room. The muzzle flash was nearly blinding. He ducked beneath the counter and fired blindly over the top, missing me by several feet. I waited until I heard him trying to change the magazine. Leaning back, I tossed the lantern over the counter. I could see his shadow as it landed. I quickly gauged his position and fired into the counter.

  I heard him grunt and knew I’d hit him. The question was how badly. Getting to my feet, I crouched and moved as quickly as I could to the edge of the counter and peeked around. I could see him in the light of the lantern, holding his left shoulder. There was a large dark stain on the front of his green t-shirt. I’d gotten him good. He was hurt bad enough to need a real doctor. Not just my minimal first aid skills.

  “Drop your weapon,” I demanded, keeping my pistol trained on him.

  He raised his head and looked at me, then with a pained look on his face held out his Rock Island .45 and dropped it. It thudded to the floor with a loud clunk. His breathing was ragged and I could see bubbles in the blood on his shirt. He was hit in the lung. He was going to die and there wasn’t anything I could do for him, even if I wanted to. Which I didn’t.

  “Why didn’t you just wait for me to come back and talk?” I asked. “I wasn’t going to shoot you.”

  “After you hit me in the face, I didn’t think you would let me live,” he wheezed.

  He coughed flecks of blood stained his lips and sprayed onto his chest.

  “Fair enough,” I said. “But if I had wanted to kill you, I would have done it while you were out.”

  “I didn’t want to risk it,” he said, gasping for breath.

  “I understand,” I said, watching him.

  “Do me a favor,” he said, turning slowly towards me.

  “What?”

  “Don’t let me become one of them,” he said, his eyes glazing.

  “I can do that.”

  With a shudder, he let out a final gasp and his head slumped down onto his chest. Strangely, I felt a pang of remorse for a kid whose name I never knew. I waited for a few moments, seeing if he might turn. I knew he hadn’t been bitten, but I wanted to be certain. He could have been infected from contact. When he didn’t turn, I knew I needed to get rid of the body. I didn’t know how long we were going to be staying in this shop, but I knew that the body would start to smell pretty fast.

  Hooking my arms under his, I dragged him up the stairs. Spec-4 was still asleep when I carried him into the room. I opened up the window and got ready to toss him out. In a flash of lightning, I could see hundreds of zombies moving through the night. They seemed to be milling around. At least they didn’t seem to be trying to get into the pawn shop anymore. That was good news.

  With a lunge, I pushed the kid out the window. I saw him slide off the edge of the roof, as lightning lit up the sky. He slipped off and fell well away from the front door. If any zombies were remaining at the door, then he would at least serve as a distraction. It was only fair since he brought them to the front door in the first place. It was only after he fell that I realized I’d left my cuffs on him.

  Closing the window, I turned to check on Spec-4. She was just as I’d left her, still wearing just the thong and ACU top. It was chilly with the rain, so I wanted to find something to cover her with. She was cuddled up against the side of the couch and deep asleep. I checked her pulse and it was good. No signs of a fever, either. That made me smile. The girl was a fighter.

  In the room with the small bed, I found a couple of blankets. Snagging one, I returned to the small office and covered her over with it. Immediately, she snuggled into it and murmured softly in her sleep. As I stood there watching her sleep, I realized just how tired I was. I knew it had to be close to midnight, now. My watch had long since been broken. Then I remembered seeing a few high end watches in the display case downstairs.

  Heading down, I found the case I was looking for. Inside were a number of nice watches and I found one I liked. It was a black anodized watch with both digital display and old-school hands. It also had a built in solar cell that kept the watch charged. Complete with a para-cord survival band, it was rugged enough for just about anything. I took it out of the box and slipped it on my wrist. Behind the counter was a battery operated digital clock that was still working. I set the watch by it. It might not be accurate, but I didn’t have anything else to go by.

  I set the alarm for 0700 hours and headed back upstairs. Spec-4 was still asleep, so I headed into the makeshift bedroom. I sat down on the edge of the bed and removed my body armor and boots. I was too tired to get undressed, so I just lay down and pulled a blanket over me. I think I was asleep as soon as my head hit the pillow.

  I dreamed of the Vikings again. There were ten of us, holding the line against a small army of the dead. Our leader was yelling at us. It had to be in Old Norse, because I didn’t understand what he was saying. Whatever he was saying, it was working. I could see the effect he was having on the warriors around me and I could feel it working on me. My heart rate was racing and I could feel the blood beginning to boil in my veins.

  His speech was working us into a frenzy. Either with the Gods help or not, I don’t know. The only thing I did know was that we were screaming and beating our weapons against our shields or against other weapons. I was wielding a pair of war hammers and knocking them together. The fervor built as the dead grew closer. There were easily a couple hundred of them.

  Suddenly, I could understand what Hjalmar was saying. I don’t know how I knew his name. It just came into focus with sudden clarity. I stood shoulder to shoulder with warriors that I knew were my kinsmen, both by blood and by oath. This was going to be a swords day, a shield day and a day of blood. Our frenzy continued to build as Hjalmar continued his speech.

  “Fight for your wives,” he bellowed, “fight for your daughters and sons! Fight for your kinsmen! The dead shall not pass! Victory or Valhalla!”

  “Odin!” we roared as one. “Victory or Valhalla!”

  I glanced over my shoulder to see the old, the women and the children hastily boarding a dragon-headed long ship. A few warriors were with them to protect them and to crew the ship. The rest of us had to hold the dead long enough for them to make it to deep water.

  “Here they come,” whispered the big warrior to my right. Bjorgolf was his name. />
  “I’m ready,” I replied.

  “Then let us meet again in Valhalla and share a horn of mead,” he said, grasping my shoulder warmly. “Stay beside me, little brother.”

  “Try to keep up,” I replied, laughing.

  There was a huge flash of lighting and we could see the dead were less than thirty yards away. We stood shoulder to shoulder on the edge of the dock leading to the ship. We would make our stand here. Nothing would pass us. Not while any of us drew breath. As the thunder rolled across the night, Hjalmar called out once more.

  “Thor favors us this night,” he bellowed. “Let us do him honor!”

  We gave ourselves over to the rage. We were the blessed of Thor, this night. We became the first berserkers, whipped into a fury of rage and determination. We would not fail. Even in death, our rage would serve us by taking as many of them with us as possible. Lightning flashed again above us and a massive roar of thunder enveloped us all. The battle had begun.

  I felt the blood pouring through my veins and roaring in my ears. Bjorgolf met my gaze one last time and then we charged. With a roar that matched the thunder that still rolled around us, we surged forward as one. If we fell tonight, then even the Gods would remember this battle! Once more, our fierce battle cry resounded as we clashed with the dead!

  “Victory or Valhalla!”

  Chapter Seventeen

  Red Sky at Dawn

  “There is nothing impossible to him who will try.”

  - Alexander the Great

  21 April

  I awoke long before the alarm on my watch was set to go off. It was still dark outside. I could see the red glow to the east that would soon be dawn. The storm had broken sometime during the night and only clouds and water remained. Down below, there were only a few zombies milling around. Something had drawn them off while I slept. I only hoped that it wasn’t our friends at the Underground.

  Rising from the bed, I picked up my flashlight. My trusty Stinger was losing its charge. With no way to recharge it, it would soon be useless. The Hive in the Underground still had power, so I could recharge it there. Assuming we made it back. Until then, I was going to have to find a suitable replacement. That shouldn’t be a problem since there were plenty of tactical lights downstairs.

  I dug into my pack and pulled out my backup light. It was a small hand cranked light that didn’t take batteries. It was a good emergency light, but the LED bulbs in it weren’t very bright. I much preferred my Stinger. I cranked it for a few moments and turned it on. It illuminated the darkness enough to see by, but not overly well. Oh well, it was going to have to do.

  Pausing only to buckle on the Colt, I padded out of the room in my socks. Spec-4 was still asleep and I didn’t have the heart to wake her up. I leaned into the small bathroom and was happy to find that there was still enough pressure in the lines to get water. It was cold, but it was wet. I took the opportunity to use the restroom and then crept downstairs.

  In the knife case, I found what I sought. It was a straight razor like my grandfather used to use. It was in a boxed set with the ceramic shaving mug, a bar of shaving soap and a leather razor strop. I also took the opportunity to snag a couple of tactical lights. They were much brighter than my little hand-crank light.

  Returning to the bathroom, I turned on a tactical light and sat it on the sink, pointing up to illuminate the entire room. I looked into the mirror and had to frown. I looked terrible. Several new scars marked my face as well as grime, blood and several days’ growth of beard. I’d already decided that I was keeping the goatee.

  I stripped to the waist in front of the little mirror and placed my torn-up shirt on the floor to soak up the water. Then I started cleaning myself as best I could with water from the sink. I found a bottle of anti-bacterial hand soap on the back of the sink and used it to scrub the worst of the grime from my face and chest. It wasn’t a great job, but it was better than nothing. Adding some water to the shaving mug, I used the little brush to work up some lather.

  Using the brush to apply the foam to my face and head, I covered it as best I could. Then I used the strop to make sure the straight razor was sharp. Carefully, I started shaving the growth from my face and rinsing it in the sink. I made sure to shave around the edge of my goatee. Shaving my head was going to be difficult. Just as I was contemplating trying it, Spec-4 slipped into the room behind me.

  “Having fun?” she asked, smiling at me.

  “Just trying to make myself look human again,” I said, grinning.

  “Here,” she said, holding out her hand. “Let me help you.”

  Reluctantly, I handed her the razor and sat down on the toilet seat. Gently, she began shaving my head with the straight razor. In minutes, she’d cleared away the stubble and only nicked me twice. I was impressed. I expected that I would give myself a couple new scars before it was over.

  “Thanks,” I said, wiping away the rest of the lather with a hand towel. “You’re pretty good with that thing.”

  “No problem,” she said. “I grew up watching my grandpa shave with one of these. Now if you don’t mind. I’d like to have a moment of privacy.”

  Chuckling, I collected my gear and stepped out of the bathroom, shutting the door behind me. Since I didn’t have any clean clothes to put on, I headed into the little bedroom I’d used and started gathering my gear. There was enough light from the rising sun to see by in the little room. The sky was blood red with clouds hanging low in the sky. It looked ominous.

  “Red sky at night, sailor's delight,” I whispered.

  “Red sky at morning, sailors take warning,” finished Spec-4, stepping into the room.

  “I had a feeling it was a bad omen,” I said, not turning around.

  She slipped up behind me and put her arms around me, her fingers running gently up and down my bare chest. I felt her cheek against the skin between my shoulder blades. Her breath sent shivers up and down my spine.

  “Thank you for saving me,” she said, softly.

  I gently took her hands in mine and gave them a squeeze. I didn’t want to turn around. Partially because of the temptation I was feeling and partially out of fear of weakness.

  “No problem,” I replied, my voice a little huskier than I planned. “You would have done the same for me.”

  “I heard you praying for me,” she said.

  Eloquently, I said nothing.

  She removed her hands from mine and began caressing my back. I could feel her fingers tracing patterns along the skin. Patterns I knew that covered the network of scar tissue that crisscrossed my back and shoulders. I could remember each and every one of them. More than a few of them I’d gotten while she was with me. I wondered if she remembered them as vividly as I did.

  “So many scars,” she said with sadness in her voice. “I know most of the recent ones.”

  “Scars are the wounds we show the world,” I said. “Some scars are on the inside.”

  I gently guided her back to the little bed and helped her lay down. Then I covered her with a blanket. She looked both disappointed and relieved at the same time. I felt like I was about to explode. I leaned down and gently kissed her on the forehead. My lips detected a slight fever. I’ve checked my sons for a fever like that since they were babies.

  “Lay here and rest,” I said. “We don’t have to travel today. Your leg needs time to heal before we can move.”

  “Stay with me?” she asked, her eyes pleading with mine.

  “I’ll be close by,” I answered. “I promise.”

  Snagging my flashlight from the bathroom, I took my boots downstairs to finish getting dressed. I found a rack of t-shirts and selected one that looked to be about my size. It was a black t-shirt with a Rangers Lead the Way logo on it. I smiled and placed it back on the rack. I wasn’t a Ranger. I didn’t earn the right to wear that shirt. Selecting another one that said Army Strong on it, I slipped it over my head. I’d earned that one.

  Finding a chair, I slipped my tactical boots
on and zipped the sides. Walking around the main room, I took a mental inventory of the weapons inside. We were going to need a big truck if we were going to empty this place. I’m not sure we could do it alone. Well, we could but it would take more time than we had. It would take a full team to empty this place. I was going to have to come back here and clear it out before the Freemen did. We needed the arms and ammo too badly.

  In the back room, I found a coil of nylon rope. I started tying climbing knots in it every few feet. Double overhand knots were easy and would serve well to help me climb the rope unassisted. That would be vital with Spec-4 out of the fight for the next day or so. I’d found plenty of guns and ammo in here, but no food. If we were going to be here for a couple days, we needed to eat. I was already feeling the effects of not eating. We both needed our strength, especially with her being wounded.

  I selected several boxes of ammo and magazines for my various weapons. Then I headed back upstairs and began reloading all of my empty magazines and ammo pouches. Breaking out my cleaning kit, I gave all of my guns a thorough cleaning. The newest edition to my collection, the HK 91, looked like it hadn’t been cleaned in ages. It took a while to set it right.

  Once I was satisfied with the state of my firearms, I reloaded them all and replaced them in their holsters. I needed my pack empty if I was going to make a food run, so I cleared out everything but the ammo. I finished by putting my body armor back on. I was checking it in the mirror in the little office to make sure I had it on right when I heard Spec-4 behind me.

  “Going somewhere?”

  “I’m planning a food run,” I answered, without looking up. “We don’t have anything to eat.”

  “Were you planning on telling me or just slipping out while I slept?” she said, petulantly.

  “Well, I was planning on slipping out,” I replied. “I figured you’d never agree to let me go alone.”

  “You figured right,” she replied, shaking her head.

  “I can move faster alone,” I said. “Besides that, you’re in no shape to climb down a rope or run. We need to eat.”