“Lead on, Lieutenant,” I said, and turned to head for the bike.
Butcher and the others followed my lead and soon we were heading back towards the military base. I glanced back at the Humvee behind us and was happy to see that the gunner had turned his turret and was facing behind us. If he had kept his weapon trained on us, it wouldn’t have been a good sign.
As we rumbled past the main gate, I could see where they had built a heavy gate out of a military truck with a heavy trailer. It could be rolled back and forth across the gap to allow vehicles to pass through. I could also see that there had been heavy fighting defending it. Only four men with a Humvee were guarding it, now. They shut the gate immediately after we passed through it.
I could see the telltale signs of fighting all along the way into the base. There were wrecked vehicles, both civilian and military, dotting the sides of the road. A few of the buildings were utterly devastated, but others looked remarkably intact. I knew from having been here that normally there were thousands of soldiers and their families stationed here, but it looked like a ghost town now. The only movement seemed to be us.
When we rolled past the base hospital, I could see that it had taken the worst of the fighting. Just like in a normal town, the wounded would have been brought here. Some of them probably turned here and infected others. Soon the place would have been crawling with the dead. Only the concentrated might of a military detachment had stopped it, but the cost must have been high. The entire building looked bombed out and riddled with bullets.
We rolled past there and headed into a part of the post that I wasn’t familiar with. I knew that it housed the motor-pools and the armories, but I hadn’t been through there except in passing. When I began to see more fortifications, I knew we had to be getting close to the area that they had sealed off. They had made a secure area around about a dozen buildings using large steel shipping boxes and heavy vehicles.
I knew that we had to be in the right area when I saw the vehicles from our convoy. I didn’t see any of our people, but at least I knew that they were here. When we pulled into the same parking lot, I braked to a halt beside the Bison and put down my kickstand. Butcher and the others followed my lead, but I could tell that they were nervous about being here. I couldn’t blame them, either. We had just walked into the lion’s den.
Exiting his Humvee, Lieutenant McBride walked over to us and waited for us to shut down the engines. When we were getting off of the bikes, he nodded towards me and pointed at a building behind us. It looked like it was a storage building, but I could see several men going in and out. I assumed that would be where the captain was.
“I would like for your men to go with mine and have the doc check them out,” he said, trying desperately not to make it sound like an order. “I need to take you to see the captain immediately.”
“Go ahead,” I said to Butcher. “I’ll join you shortly.”
Butcher and his men got off of their bikes and walked away with the soldiers who arrived to escort them. It was a good sign that they didn’t ask for our weapons, but that could either mean that they didn’t mean us any harm or that they were confident enough to let us keep them. Either way, it was time to play this hand for all it was worth.
“Let’s go, Lieutenant,” I said, nodding.
As expected, he headed for the building with the activity. As we approached, some of the men watched me warily, but immediately snapped to attention when they saw the oak leaf on my rank insignia. There was still hope that this might turn out to be a good thing. I wasn’t expecting it to, but since the end of the world so few things have turned out to be good that I’ve almost forgotten what it was like.
When we walked in the door, I could see several men moving around carrying boxes of equipment and supplies. There were two desks in the small room to my left, one had a very frazzled looking captain working on a laptop and at the other was a very angry looking First Sergeant, flipping through paper on a clipboard. Neither of them looked up as I walked into the room.
“Sir,” said Lieutenant McBride, “May I present, Major Wiley Grant, Missouri National Guard.”
That got both the Captain and the First Sergeant’s undivided attention. The Captain looked up so fast I thought his glasses would fall off of the end of his nose. The First Sergeant sat the clipboard down and looked me over with keen interest. He was an old soldier, I could tell. From the combat patch on his shoulder, I knew he had seen combat in some interesting places. He wore the patch of the 101st Airborne Division.
“Major?” said the First Sergeant speculatively. “What’s your MOS[20]?”
“My primary MOS was 13 Foxtrot,” I replied. “But since I was reactivated by Colonel William Van Aldren, I guess I’m a 31 Bravo[21]. I was brought back on duty by the 3175th Military Police, Missouri National Guard.”
“How do we know you aren’t just some dumb-fuck who found a uniform?” growled the First Sergeant.
His name-tag read Masterson. I noted that without comment, but the Captain almost choked at how the First Sergeant had addressed me. I knew that they were both gauging me to see if I really was who I claimed to be. There wasn’t any sort of database he could check, since all of the computer networks were gone. There was no way for them to verify who I was and only my word to go by. I could understand their skepticism.
“Well,” I began hesitantly, then letting my tone grow menacing, “if I was pulling your fucking chain, I would have been making demands and expecting you to salute me. I don’t give a rusty fuck if you believe me or not. Your men brought me here; I didn’t come looking for you.”
That took them both by surprise. I don’t think either of them expected an NCO level verbal fusillade from a senior officer. Most officers are too, how should I put it nicely, cultured to use that kind of language. I was an NCO at heart and the only reason I agreed to accept the field promotion from Van Aldren was to ease the transition of command from his troops, not anyone else’s. I would be happy if it helped me get through to these men. If it worked, then so much the better. I needed allies, not enemies.
Captain Parkes exchanged looks with First Sergeant Masterson and seemed to be seriously thinking over what I had just said. I hadn’t made any demands of them. Also, I didn’t waltz in and start throwing my rank around. If I had done that, they might have believed that I was really a major or they might have shot me on the spot, too.
“What did you say your MOS was, again,” said the First Sergeant, suspiciously.
“13 Foxtrot,” I replied. “I was a Forward Observer. I’ve been out of the army for a long time, though. Colonel Van Aldren brought me back as a major because of my experience. He was very short of people with actual combat experience. Most of his surviving unit was just kids.”
“I know Van Aldren,” said Captain Parkes, slowly removing his glasses and rubbing the bridge of his nose. “But I don’t know you. You can understand our reservations, I’m sure.”
“Of course,” I replied. “I don’t blame you a bit. Fitzy told me that there might be a few issues with the beard. I guess I should have listened, but frankly I like the damned thing and refuse to let it go.”
That drew a chuckle from the First Sergeant.
“How well do you know Fitzy?” he asked, chuckling.
“He was my First Sergeant during Desert Storm,” I replied. “We’ve been in the sand together.”
“I’m sorry to hear that old bastard is dead,” said Sergeant Masterson. “He was a good man.”
“Actually, last I knew he was alive,” I said, grinning. “Me and a few other soldiers held the line while we evac’ed the civilians and the wounded. Fitzy was shot in the shoulder. The son-of-a-bitch refused to get on the chopper, so I socked him one in the jaw. I’m sure he’s gonna kick my ass when he sees me. Van Aldren was alive the last I knew, as well. When FOB Warhorse fell, I’m sure they think I died there.”
“So what brings you here?” asked Parkes.
“We’re making our way back to our main encamp
ment,” I explained. “We have a big group there. The survivors that I was accompanying in the bus and other vehicles were coming with me. I met up with them in St. Louis.”
“Van Aldren’s alive?” asked Parkes, incredulous.
“Affirmative,” I replied.
I had to stop myself from saying “sir” since Majors don’t address Captains as sir.
“It’s my plan to get everyone to our camp and continue to defend against the dead,” I replied. “There are more bad things coming, too.”
I spent the next half hour explaining to them about the comets that hit the moon. I left out the parts that I knew applied to Ragnarok, because I doubted that they would believe it. I did, however, tell them everything that Shura had told me. If we didn’t find good shelter in the next few weeks, then the cold would kill us all.
When I explained to them about the POMCUS cache, I could see both of their faces light up. I wasn’t sure if it was because of the equipment or the location. I knew that they were still wondering if they could trust me and I was wondering the same thing about them. If they really were on our side, then they should be showing it. I needed to know that we were not going to end up fighting them.
“So, how many men do you have here?” I asked.
I gauged their reaction, knowing that if they refused to answer me then it was not a good indication of how far I could trust them. When the Captain didn’t hesitate before he answered me, I knew it was a good sign.
“We have three platoons of men,” he said. “Not much left of our original compliment, but it’s all we have. We were designated to cover the rear while they evacuated the post. We were supposed to be the last unit out, but no one returned for us. We lost radio contact with our chain of command months ago. We’ve been on our own ever since.”
“If you don’t mind me asking,” I said, cautiously, “how are you set for equipment?”
“Oh we have plenty of vehicles,” he explained. “They could only take what they could evac quickly by air. We have a decent quantity of weapons and ammo, but they took most of the food. We’ve been scrounging the area for supplies.”
“I think we can handle that,” I replied. “The POMCUS has more than enough to feed a battalion for months. Between your men and ours, that should easily hold us through the coming bad weather.”
“Alright, Major,” said Parkes, standing up and smiling. “I think we’re convinced. If you’ll have us, I’ll gladly turn my command over to you and Colonel Van Aldren. What do you need us to do?”
“We need to get your people and mine loaded and ready for transport,” I answered. “We need to get past that mine field along the interstate and get moving.”
Something was gnawing at the back of my brain. There was something screaming a warning about this place when we first got past the road block; something that all of us noticed and were concerned about. If it wasn’t the Captain and his men, then what on earth was it? There was still something that was making the short hairs on the back of my neck stand up.
“What kind of danger from the dead have you been having around here lately?” I asked, glancing around the office.
“Well, initially we had severe trouble keeping them out during the evacuation,” explained Parkes, “but the last few days have been really quiet. It is almost like something else got their attention.”
The Hrimthurssar must have called in the dead for as far as their powers could reach. I doubted that they needed that many of them just to take us on in St. Louis, so there had to be a bigger target in mind. There had to be something in this area that they needed the dead to protect. Otherwise, there wasn’t really an explanation for why the dead just lost interest. In my experience, they just didn’t do that for any reason.
“Are there any other facilities on this base that I need to be aware of?” I asked, dreading the answer.
This time, they did exchange wary looks. I knew that there was something here that they either didn’t want to talk about, or were ordered not to. Either way, I intended to find out just what it was. If it was a threat to us all, then I damned sure needed to know about it. Besides that, old security clearances no longer mattered. There was nothing left of our chain of command and no one left to report it to, anyway.
“Whatever the Hel it is,” I began, anger rising in my voice, “we need to address it right fucking now. I don’t give a shit about my clearance level. If it’s a danger to us, I need to know.”
“Alright,” said Captain Parkes, frowning. “One of the tasks my unit was given was protecting the research facility beneath the base.”
“What research facility?” I asked. “I was stationed here in the late eighties and I never heard about a facility beneath the base.”
“Most people don’t know it’s there,” explained the First Sergeant. “Most people aren’t cleared to know.”
“What kind of research?” I asked, tensing for bad news.
“It’s not even directly under the command of Fort Leonard Wood,” said Captain Parkes. “Technically, it falls under the directives of USAMRIID[22].”
“Oh fuck,” I muttered. “You have a bio-lab underneath this facility?”
“It’s contained, I assure you,” replied Parkes.
I immediately thought of the base where the Stalkers came from. There was no way that was a coincidence. That lab was hidden beneath the recreation center for Fort Leonard Wood at Lake of the Ozarks. If they had similar or duplicate research going on here, then there could be any number of Stalkers beneath our feet. It might also explain where the Hrimthurssar got more of them. If it was, then we had big problems.
“Are you certain it’s secure?” I snapped, my adrenalin levels spiking.
“I’m certain,” said Parkes. “They went to full lockdown when this outbreak happened. Nothing gets in or out of there.”
“Are there people still down there?” I asked, already fairly certain that I knew the answer to that one.
“They sealed the doors and won’t respond to us,” said Masterson. “We’ve tried numerous times to get into contact with them. They either can’t or won’t talk to us. If something got loose down there, it’s sealed inside.”
“Do you have any idea what they were working on down there?” I asked, flattening my hands on the Captain’s desk.
“None,” said Parkes. “We weren’t cleared for access. We were assigned perimeter security. We were never allowed inside.”
“Son of a bitch,” I whispered. “I think I know what they were working on.”
I went on to explain about the facility I had found where the Stalkers were created. I told them how they had sealed the doors and would not allow us access, even under threat of using explosives to force our way inside. If this facility was doing the same or similar research, then we were in a lot of trouble. Undoubtedly, this facility was much larger than the one at the recreation center at the lake.
“Where is the entrance located?” I asked.
“Near the air strip,” replied Masterson. “That way they could move shipments in and out by plane and very few people would even know they were here.”
“Can we get to it or is it blocked by the dead?” I asked, a cold feeling gripping my stomach like a vice.
“We lost the air strip to the dead some time ago,” explained the First Sergeant. “We haven’t been able to get anywhere near the place for weeks.”
“How close can you get me?” I asked, turning for the door.
“We have a guard tower at the edge of our secure area,” said Parkes. “You should be able to see it with binoculars from there.”
“That will do for now,” I said, heading for the door. “Which way is it to the tower.”
“I’ll take you,” said the First Sergeant, reaching for his hat.
We headed out the door at a brisk pace and I fell into step beside the First Sergeant. Instantly, I fell into synch with his pace and it almost struck me funny that after all of these years, I still fell into that habit.
Instead of heading for a Humvee, we headed across the secured area at a trot. We ran past four large buildings that looked like they had been used for storage and then past another building that was obviously the motor pool. I counted a dozen Humvees and six MRAPs[23]. There were about a dozen of the M1078 standard cargo trucks. All in all, we were well set for vehicles.
We ran up to the big barrier that they had around their perimeter. They had made an observation tower out of a steel cargo box and plating. It wasn’t pretty, but it served its purpose. I headed for the ladder that led up to the top. First Sergeant Masterson hit the ladder before me and headed up without hesitation.
By the time I had reached the top, he was already glassing the area with a set of binoculars. I pulled my telescope out of my pack and extended it. Bring it up to my eye, I started sweeping the same direction that he was searching and felt the blood in my veins turn to ice water. There, on the far side of several rows of barracks, I could see the air strip. Scattered around the area were hundreds, possibly thousands, of the dead.
They were just standing there, surrounding the area. They covered all possible approaches to one building in particular. I knew without a doubt that was the building that housed the entrance to the facility. The dead weren’t trying to gain access. In fact, if I had to guess, they were there to prevent anyone else from gaining access.
“Fuck,” I whispered.
“My thoughts exactly,” agreed Masterson. “What the fuck do you think is going on over there?”
“My guess,” I said, closing my telescope, “I would say that they are there to keep us out of the area. Whatever is going on down there, the dead are keeping us away from it.”
“Are you sure?” asked Masterson. “Maybe they’re trying to find a way inside.”
“They aren’t facing the building,” I pointed out. “They’re facing outward.”
“What the hell can control them like that?” he asked, lowering his own binoculars.
“I could explain it to you, but I doubt you’d believe it,” I said, shaking my head.
“Six months ago, I never would have believed the dead would come back and fuck everything up, either,” he said, glancing at me out of the corner of his eye.
Ragnarok Rising Page 40