Ragnarok Rising: The Awakening (Book One of The Ragnarok Rising Saga)

by D. A. Roberts

  “I’m sure they’d appreciate that. The last time we managed to raise them on the radio, they said that they were secure but had nothing to eat.”

  “Did they have any ammo?”

  “Not much,” he replied, “but they did say that the place was secure. Assuming nothing catastrophic happened; we should be able to get to them.”

  “That’s good,” I said. “Is there anyone else close to them?”

  “We heard from an SPD officer who was trapped inside a Motorcycle store on Glenstone. He gave the address, but it’s on the notepad in my office. “

  “I know the place he’s talking about,” I said. “I bought a helmet there. We might be able to get both of them in one shot. If we take a Humvee, it might be a little cramped, but it’s completely doable.”

  “Shouldn’t you take both of the Humvees?” asked the L.T.

  “That’s not a bad idea,” I said. “If we can find a c-store that’s not overran, we can fill up all of the tanks and the extra cans.”

  “How’re you going to do that with the power out?”

  “Good question.” I said. “I didn’t even think of that.”

  “I’m pretty sure the entire city is without power, now,” said the L.T.

  “It probably is,” I agreed. “I’ll just have to improvise. Maybe I can find a hardware store. If I can find a manual pump, I can drop a hose into the ground tank and pump out whatever I need. It’ll be slow, but it’ll work.”

  “You’ve got quite the list of places to stop,” said the L.T.

  “It’ll be worth it if I can make a pump for the gas.”

  “Well, it looks like you have your next run planned,” he said. “Do you know where the nearest hardware store is?”

  “There’s one on Glenstone, down past Commercial,” I said. “I should be able to get to it if the roads aren’t blocked.”

  “Get your people together. I’m sure you already know who you want to take with you.”

  “I’ll grab my usual crew of eight-balls,” I said, smiling. “Wilder, Southard and Sanders.”

  My coffee was cold, but I finished it in a single gulp anyway. I was going to need the caffeine. I snagged a second cup on my way out of Master Control and headed back down to Classification. Spec-4 was already geared up and ready.

  “Where to, now?” she asked, smiling.

  “First thing, we have to wake up the kids,” I said, gesturing to the other office.

  “They’re already up,” she said. “They headed off through the sliders mumbling something about breakfast.”

  “That’s not a bad idea. Let’s grab a bite to eat and I’ll bring you all up to speed on what’s on the agenda.”

  I grabbed my gear bag and we headed through the sliders together. I could smell the food as we rounded the corner and headed for the break room. Whatever it was, it smelled good. My stomach had stopped heaving and was starting to rumble. I was pretty much over the headache now and wanted food. I was hungry enough to eat the tail end of a dead rhino.

  Happily, that wasn’t on the menu. It was biscuits and gravy, and that suited me fine. I ate enough to satisfy my hunger, but not enough to make me full. If I was going out again, I didn’t want the lethargic feeling you get when you eat too much. I had to be on top of my game. We were all going to have to be at the top of our games if we were going to pull this off.

  I quickly sketched out the plan to my cohorts. Sanders and Southard would take one Humvee while Spec-4 and I took the other one. We’d stay together, for safety. First stop was going to be the hardware store. Assuming I found the pump and hose I was looking for, the second stop would be any number of Stop ‘n’ Robs all along the route to Kubichek and Sullivan. From there, the SPD officer and the bike shop. Piece of cake, I told them.

  But we all knew damned good and well, nothing was simple when dealing with zombies. In small numbers, they were manageable. In large numbers however, they could overwhelm you in seconds. Even in an armored Humvee, enough of them could block you in place and keep you from getting away. Then it was just a matter of time. You would either starve or die of thirst inside. That, or try and fight your way out of the crowd. However you looked at it, you were as good as dead if the crowd was that big.

  Plus, any number of things could go wrong all along the route. I didn’t like to think of the worst case scenario. I just planned for the worst and hoped for the best. If things looked too hot, we’d abort. I hated the idea of doing that to another officer, but I couldn’t help them if I was a zombie. Even worse, I couldn’t help my family. I really wanted to finish with the rescues today, if at all possible. I was anxious to get to my family. The Army’s idea of containment really worried me. So did the fact that I hadn’t been able to reach them on the phone.

  If the Army did it here, they would do it in other places too. Call me jaded, but I just didn’t trust the Army to do what was best for the people. They would follow orders from the politicians. The same ones who probably only saw zombies on the TV screen, having been whisked away to secure facilities the moment trouble started. Continuity of Government is what they call it. Basically, it’s the government’s way of protecting themselves over the rest of us. What they failed to realize is that people could survive without them…but what is a government without people to govern?

  I was already considering the possibility that I would have to run a blockade to get to my family. If I did, so be it. I’d fight my way through to them, if I had to. No one was going to stop me. Not the Army, not zombies and most definitely not a Containment Zone. I’d walk all the way to the lake, if I had to. I really hoped it wouldn’t come to that, but I’d do it. Driving would be much better, though. I needed to factor roadblocks into my plans, though. Just in case.

  After we finished eating, everyone headed back through the sliders. We all grabbed our gear and headed out of Release to check out the Humvees prior to our trip. We did a quick once over to make sure the tanks were full, no tires were flat and they were running well enough to drive. No one wanted to be stranded out there in the Necropolis that was once Springfield, Missouri.

  We filled both gas tanks, but it took all of the fuel in the cans on both vehicles. We would definitely have to make my pump idea work if I was going to go to the lake. Humvees aren’t known for their fuel efficiency, so the more I had on hand the better. I could easily get to the lake on one tank of gas. I knew there would be gas stations all along the route. What condition they were in and how many zombies there would be was anyone’s guess. The only way to know would be to find out on the way. There was no communication with anyone outside our area, at this point.

  I was also worried about having to fight our way out through the line of containment. If the Army had sealed us off, they would be doing everything in their power to make sure no one got in or out. I’m pretty sure a few M-16’s and a couple up-armored Humvees wouldn’t be much of a match for what they would have at the edge of the containment zone. They’d probably have missiles, heavy weapons and air support. They’d probably even mined the exits. If that was the case, then getting out was going to be tricky.

  Fortunately, I knew the back-roads of Nathanael County about as well as anyone. I’m certain that they’d have all the major roads blocked and probably most of the secondary roads, as well. But I doubt that they would know all of the gravel roads. Heck, I could even go over-land if I absolutely had to. If the Humvees were up to the task, I could drive down the river-bottoms. Air support might make that a bit tricky, though. Depending on what kind of helicopters they had.

  For now, I had to concentrate on the task at hand. I had to find a way to manually transfer fuel into the tanks or we’d be dead in the water. I also had to rescue those other officers, if they were still alive. I figured that the Spud officer was going to be easy. I knew that area pretty well. It was mostly businesses, but not high traffic ones like a mall or Bass Pro. The odds were pretty good that there wouldn’t be all that many zombies in that area. At least I hoped so.
>
  Once we finished the PMCS’s of the Humvees, we loaded up extra ammo and a few extra weapons. Sanders walked over and handed two duffle bags to Spec-4. One had extra loaded magazines for our weapons and the other held grenades. He had two identical bags for his Humvee, as well. That would give us some much needed firepower.

  “Gee, Sanders,” said Spec-4, smiling. “You know just what to give a girl to make her happy.”

  Cal grinned like a school kid and headed towards the second Humvee. While he was securing the other two bags inside his vehicle, Southard came over to me.

  “Wylie, got a sec?”

  “Sure, Chuck. What’s on your mind?”

  “I just wanted to say thanks.”

  “For what?”

  “For helping me keep it together,” he said, looking down. “Especially last night.”

  “Don’t sweat it, Chuck. You’d have done the same for me.”

  “Anyway,” he said, softly. “I’m back in this. I mean, you can count on me to do my part.”

  “I never doubted that.”

  “I did,” he replied, sadly. “I keep telling myself that they weren’t at the Evac-center, but deep down I know they were.”

  “Chuck, we might still find them when this is all over. They could be waiting for you in Texas or Kansas or wherever the secure site is. You won’t have to do this alone. Cal and I won’t let you, anyway. Don’t try and shut us out, either. I’ll sick Cal on you and I’m pretty sure he can take us both.”

  “Yeah,” he said. “Not much short of a semi-truck could stop Cal, and even then I’m not so sure.”

  I put my hand on Southard’s shoulder and looked him in the eye.

  “If things go bad, I’ll be beside you. We’ll get through it.”

  He nodded, his eyes moist with emotion.

  “Are we going, or not?” yelled Sanders, from over near the other Humvee.

  Southard had to grin. Sanders was like a big kid when it came time to do something. He wasn’t interested in waiting around. He wanted to go to it, right then, full speed, all the way. It had to be his infantry training. While Sanders was high-speed and low drag, the rest of us weren’t quite as ready to get back into the thick of things. I could see Cal was already grinning like a kid in a candy store.

  “We’d better get moving before Cal has a fit,” said Southard.

  “Yeah, don’t piss off the guy who can bench press one of the Humvees.”

  With that, we both headed for our respective vehicles. I climbed into the driver’s seat and shut the door. Spec-4 was already inside, waiting.

  “Is Southard ok?” she asked, concerned.

  “I don’t know,” I answered, honestly. “We’ll have to keep an eye on him.”

  “I feel so bad for him,” she said. “Do you think his family was killed?”

  “I’d say that it’s pretty likely.”

  With that, I fired up the engine and let it idle. Behind me, Southard did the same. We were both as ready as we were going to be.

  “700,” I said, keying up my radio. “How does it look outside the fence?”

  “Looks like four are approaching the gate,” said 700.

  “They probably heard Sanders,” I said to Spec-4.

  Then I keyed up the radio again.

  “Go ahead an open the gate.”

  The gate began rumbling open, and I gave Spec-4 a nod. In a flash, she was into the turret and opening the hatch. She didn’t bother with the M-249 on the roof. Instead, I heard her lock and load her M-16. As the gate opened wider and wider, she propped her elbow on the roof and prepared to fire. She didn’t hesitate, either. The metallic PING of the M-16 snapped out four times, quickly ending the un-lives of the four zombies that appeared.

  “700, are we clear?” I asked, over the radio.

  “Copy 829,” said 700. “You are clear to depart.”

  I pulled out of the gate with Sanders right on my bumper. I could see the gate rolling shut behind us, as soon as we cleared it. Spec-4 dropped back inside and shut the hatch. By the time I was rolling out into the street, she was back in the front seat. My last glimpse of the back of the jail was an almost melancholy sight. I had the distinct feeling that we were heading for trouble. I really hoped that I was wrong.

  “Nice shooting,” I said. “Four quick headshots.”

  “I’ve been getting a lot of practice, lately,” she said, smiling. “By the way, aren’t we heading towards the hospital?”

  Then she popped the magazine out of her weapon and added four rounds to it, replacing the expended ammo. Once the ammo was replaced, the magazine went right back into the weapon. I couldn’t help but smile. Spec-4 was a real pro.

  “Yeah,” I said, “but we’re not going within sight of it. I’m turning west on the next street.”

  Behind us, I could see Cal Sanders. He was in the turret, with his hat on backwards and sunglasses on. He was also grinning from ear to ear. He had the M-249 locked and loaded. He looked like he was singing.

  “Southard to Grant,” crackled the radio.

  “Go ahead.”

  “You want me to tell Cal to get back inside?”

  “Nah, let him have his fun. If it looks like we’re getting close to a mob, I want him inside, though.”

  “Copy that,” replied Southard.

  “Oh, and Southard?”

  “Yeah?”

  “What’s he singing up there?”

  “He’s not singing, just making noises. It sounds like Wagner’s ‘Ride of the Valkyries.’”

  “How appropriate,” said Spec-4, winking at me.

  “Tell him to have fun, but don’t get us swarmed,” I said.

  “Got it,” replied Southard.

  I turned left at the next intersection and headed west, across Boonville. I could see the front of the jail as we crossed. There were about a hundred zombies milling around the front, but it looked like none of them had made it past our barricade. I only saw it for a second, but I didn’t see anything moving by the front doors. That was good news. Our makeshift barricade of the front door was solid, but I really didn’t want to test it against a large group of the dead.

  I clipped a zombie in a green trench coat, and knocked him sprawling into a curb. He didn’t seem to be moving. As we approached Campbell and whatever the heck street we were on, I could see about a dozen zombies near the front of the little church. They were all dressed in nice clothing and I saw more than a few tuxedoes. One of them was even in a bloody wedding dress.

  “That’s a hell of a way to celebrate your wedding day,” I said, nodding.

  “Oh, my God,” said Spec-4. “That’s horrible. We should do something about that.”

  “No sense wasting the ammo if we don’t have to,” I said. “Besides, she’s single again. You know, till death do us part and all.”

  Spec-4 gave me a dirty look, but I just chuckled anyway. Not everyone appreciates my twisted sense of humor.

  “Hey Wylie!” said Sanders on the radio.

  “Yeah?”

  “Isn’t that a Billy Idol song?” he asked.

  “What the fuck are you talking about?” I asked, wrinkling my brow.

  “You know, that song ‘White Wedding’ by Billy Idol,” he replied.

  Before I could answer, he started singing on the radio.