Ragnarok Rising: The Awakening (Book One of The Ragnarok Rising Saga) (8 page)

“I didn’t,” I replied, grinning.

“You take charge like a crusty old Sergeant Major,” she said, fishing.

I just smiled.

I had to swerve to avoid a pair of zombies in the middle of the road that were eating what looked like an elderly woman.

“I may need you to open the turret hatch,” I said. “Can you crawl in the back?”

“No problem, Sar-Major,” she replied, and nimbly climbed into the back seat.

Then she reached up and snagged her M-16 and the two Berettas. She already had one holster clipped to her Interceptor vest, so she took the other holster off of E-2’s Interceptor and clipped it on. Then she tucked away extra magazines for both weapons into the mag pouches.

About that time, we were approaching a curve in the road.
We were almost at the Valley Water Mill Park, so I slowed almost to a stop. It was a good thing I did, too. Just around the corner, I discovered the burning wreckage of a County Charger and an ambulance lying on its side. There were several civilian cars in the ditch around them, as well. The road was completely blocked off.

Seeing no other options, I cut the wheel to the left
. We bounced through the ditch and crashed through a wire fence on the other side. The powerful Humvee had no problems at all going through both. No sense having such a powerful vehicle if you weren’t going to use it. Once I cleared the fence, I turned to the right and slid sideways into the parking lot of Valley Water Mill Park. I stopped to survey the scene ahead of me.

About fifty yards away was the visitor’s center.
It was a small building, only about 15 by 15. On the roof I saw one person in familiar patrol gray and one in blue EMT gear. Surrounding the visitor’s center was about twenty five zombies with more heading our way from the houses on the far side of the lake. One of the zombies was in patrol gray and three more were in jail black. I recognized them all.

The Roadie was Corporal Steve O’Brien.
O’Brien was pretty cool, for a roadie. He was one of the few who didn’t treat us like gum on his shoe. The jail officers were Dave Martin, Amy Gillespie and Raul Rodriguez. Martin and Rodriguez were on C shift, so I knew them well. Gillespie was on my shift, and she was a friend. They all had families with kids.

“Can you do me a favor?” I asked my voice tight in my throat.
“I can’t leave them like that and I’m not sure I can do it myself.”

Spec-4 reached up and gently squeezed my shoulder, once.
Then she popped out of the turret hatch, in an instant. The girl had to be psychic or something. Four shots rang out from her M-16. The four uniformed officers fell, without taking another step. In a flash, she was back inside and slamming the hatch shut. Before I could say anything at all, the radio came to life.

“Holy shit, Wylie,” said Southard.
“Nice entrance.”

I gave Spec-4 a quick nod of appreciation and keyed the mic.

“Thanks, Chuck. Here we come. I’m gonna go bowling for zombies. When we stop, jump onto the roof. You can climb in through the turret hatch. Make it quick because there are more of those damned things on the way.”

“Got it.”

“Try not to miss,” I said.

“If I do, I won’t be around long enough for you to tell me I told you so.”

I lined up my approach, then headed in hard. We slammed into a group of zombies with bone crushing results. At least six went flying and I felt more than a couple crunch under the wheels. Then I locked up the brakes and slid to a stop, right next to the visitor’s center’s eastern-most wall. Instantly, I heard one followed by a second thud on the roof. Spec-4 threw open the hatch and Southard shoved the EMT inside. After the EMT scrambled into the back seat, Southard came in head first and dove into the passenger side front seat.

Spec-4 slammed the hatch shut and latched it as the first of the zombies began to climb onto the back of the vehicle.
I punched the accelerator and sped away from the building, scattering zombies in my wake. In the mirror, I could see three or four bouncing along the ground as they fell off. I crashed through another section of fence and bounced back onto the road.

I had to continue down Valley Water Mill, since the wreckage blocked off the road behind us.
If I tried to go back the way I came, I’d have to run the gauntlet of angry zombies that were now swarming like hornets. Going back that way seemed like pushing my luck.

“Damn, Wylie,” said Southard as he righted himself in the seat.
“I never thought I’d be so happy to see your ugly face.”

“Good to see you too, Chuck.
Are either of you bit?”

“Nope.
We’re the lucky ones, though. If it hadn’t been for that maintenance ladder, we’d have been zombie kibble.”

“What ladder?”

“It was on the roof with us. I pulled it up after we climbed up there.”

“Good plan,” I said. “Where’re your weapons?”

“I still have my Glock, but the shotgun was in the Charger.”

“How’d you end up out here in the middle of nowhere?
I didn’t think that there were any checkpoints out this way.”

“We weren’t supposed to be out here,” he replied. “O’Brien and I were escorting the ambulance back to the hospital with a VIP patient.”

“Who was it?” asked Spec-4.

“The Sheriff’s wife,” replied Southard.

“What happened?” I asked.

“She turned inside the ambulance and attacked the crew.
It couldn’t have been at a worse time, either. We were almost surrounded when the ambulance started swerving and collided with a civilian car. Then it flipped onto its side in the ditch. We got hit by swerving traffic and caught fire. The five of us were in my car and we all got out. We fought our way to the ambulance and we only managed to save one of the crew. Then we headed for the visitor’s center, but we didn’t make it.”

“I’m sorry, Chuck,” I said, softly.

“We hit them with everything we had, but it wasn’t enough. I ran out of ammo and O’Brien told me to run. So I shoved the EMT towards the ladder and hoped for the best. I thought they were right behind me, but no one else made it. I pulled up the ladder and watched those fucking things eat my friends. There were so many of them and they just kept coming. I wanted to do more, but I was out of ammo and my asp
[2]
was in the car.”

“You did everything you could, Chuck,” I said.
“You did your best. It’s a miracle that any of you survived.”

“Yeah,” he mumbled
sourly, “fucking miraculous.”

“A
ll that is necessary for evil to triumph is for good men to do nothing.""

-
Edmund Burke

We drove in silence for a few minutes, until we were approaching Springfield city limits. We were emerging at Glenstone Avenue, right where it turns into H Highway. We were passing through a residential area, and the dead were everywhere. Overturned vehicles were burning, houses were burning and chaos reigned supreme in the streets. Everywhere you looked was blood and death. It wasn’t a big stretch of the imagination to believe that this truly was the end of the world or whatever you wanted to call it. If this was happening everywhere, then humanity was finished.

We were seeing fewer and fewer signs of life.
That’s when we arrived at the stoplight next to a convenience store, or what we referred to as a “Stop ‘n’ Rob.” There were a large number of zombies, and they were chasing people around the parking lot. The Stop ‘n’ Rob had been completely taken. Next to it in a strip mall was a Dollar Store with several other small stores. A crowd of zombies was trying to get in the doors, and we could see survivors trying their best to keep them out by holding the doors shut. Some were piling anything they could find against the doors and windows.

Southard and I exchanged glances, and he took a deep breath and sighed.

“I know that look,” he said, frowning.

“Better hand out the weapons,” I said to Spec-4.

She quickly handed Southard three magazines for his Glock and one of the M-16’s. I took an extra Glock and my Mossberg. Spec-4 handed one of her Berettas to the EMT, but he looked at it like it was going to bite him.

“Have you ever fired a gun before?” I asked.

“Not really. Unless you count all the first person shooter games I’ve played on my X-box.”

“This isn’t a video game,
” said Spec-4, shaking her head.

I sighed and rubbed the bridge of my nose.
Spec-4 took the pistol back from him and handed him a Remington shotgun.

“Here,” she said. “This is the trigger and the bullets come out of the end of the long tube.
You put another round into the chamber by working the pump like this.”

She worked the action on the Remington and chambered a live round.

“There. Now you’re ready to get your hands dirty,” she added, giving him a sour look.

Grabbing her M-16, she gave me a nod.

“Are you sure you want to do this, Wylie?” asked Southard. “No one would blame you for not getting involved. We can just drive away. We don’t have enough people to mount a rescue.”

Yes
, I’m sure. People are alive in there. I won’t just leave them to die.”

Southard shook his head, but checked his weapons over and got ready.

“So, what’s the plan?” asked Spec-4.

“Well,” I said,
“if we’re going to do this, then we might as well do it right.”

“What have you got in mind?” asked Southard.

After a moment’s hesitation, I exhaled slowly.

“Here’s what I’m thinking.
I only count sixty or so.”

“Yeah, only
sixty
fucking zombies,” said Southard. “No sweat.”

“As long as we don’t let them get too close to us, we might just pull this off and get out of it alive.
Spec-4…uh...sorry…Wilder, you take the turret with your M-16. Chuck, you pop out on your side and use the hood as a rest for yours. Make your shots count, folks. There’re civilians in there.”

“You
do
remember that we took on less than that back at the road block and lost three people, right?” said Spec-4.

“I remember,” I replied, “but last time they weren’t distracted.
They won’t know we’re here until we’re already shooting. If they get too close, we’ll button down inside the Humvee.”

“What about me?” asked EMT.

“You cover that side, and protect Southard. I’ll cover this side and do the same for Wilder. Got it?”

“Why don’t I take that side and you cover Southard?” said EMT.

“Because I’m driving and it makes more sense to keep me on this side of the vehicle.”

“I can drive,” said EMT.

“Have you ever driven a Humvee?” asked Spec-4.

“Well, er, uh, does playing Call of Duty count?” he asked.

“No,” said Spec-4, contemptuously.

“Well then, no
,” said EMT, looking down.

“Well, I have,” I s
aid. “So have both Wilder and Southard. But they have the rifles and their own assignments.”

“Fine, I’ll cover this freakin’ side,” said EMT, pouting.

“Ok, then. On three,” I said. “One. Two. THREE!”

We all jumped out of the vehicle and Spec-4 popped out of the turret hatch.
I let the Mossberg hang by its strap around my neck and pulled my Glocks. Spec-4 fired first, and a zombie head exploded just as it reached a running woman. Southard and I followed suit.

“Make your shots count,” I yelled at the group.
“Conserve your ammo!”

I took
a few steps away from the side of the Humvee and brought up both pistols. This time, I wasn’t nearly as scared. I controlled my breathing better and took my shots with more care. When my slides locked back, I’d taken out 10 zombies for 30 rounds expended. I could live with that. I quickly started swapping mags.

“Wylie, look out!” yelled Spec-4.

I spun as fast as I could and barely evaded the grasp of a female zombie wearing a Springfield Police Uniform. She was torn to shreds. What was left of her face was held on to her skull with only loose strands of flesh. The muscle of her neck had been eaten away, revealing the vertebrae behind it. Ragged bites were taken out of both of her arms and she was even missing a couple of fingers.

I didn’t have time to reload my Glocks
. Before I could release the pistols to grab my Mossberg, Spec-4 dropped her with a snap-shot with her M-16. The shot traversed the head from left ear to right ear, blasting brains and gore across the pavement. She dropped like a stone, twitching a few times before all movement ceased. I stood there a moment with my chest heaving to catch my breath.

A quick glance told me that both Southard and Spec-4 were
OK, but I didn’t see EMT anywhere. I flashed Spec-4 a quick smile, and rapidly scanned around me for threats. Then I reloaded both Glocks. That’s the trouble with shooting two pistols at the same time. Reloading’s a bitch. I made a mental note to try to refrain from using two pistols at the same time. Accuracy and reloading time were more important than magazine capacity.

“Where’s EMT?” I asked, over my shoulder.

“Cowering in the floorboard in the fetal position,” replied Spec-4 with a look of disgust on her face and pointing down into the Humvee.

“You’ve gotta be shitting me!” I snapped, turning back to the zombies. “Fuck him, then.
Chuck, watch your back. Let’s get the job done and get out of here.”

We resumed shooting and I backed a few steps closer to the Humvee.
I heard a rustling sound behind us and spun around to see half a dozen zombies coming out of the field behind Southard. It looked like they came from the church about a hundred meters north of us. I ducked below Southard’s line of fire and fired while I crouched and walked that way.

“I’ve got it, Chuck!” I yelled. “Keep after the others.”

I stood back up after I cleared the front bumper and kept up the fire. There was a wire fence between Southard and the field behind him, so I had time to aim my shots. I took out all six of them before they made it over the fence. Back from the direction of the church, I could see about a dozen more zombies, but they were preoccupied with trying to beat their way inside the building. I was considering a rescue run for the church as well, when the side doors flew open and people began pouring out and heading for cars. So, I turned back to our fight to survey the damage.

Our shooting had done the trick.
Very few were still moving about. I’d taken nearly twenty zombies in total and both Spec-4 and Southard had done better than that. In just a few more shots, they’d cleared the area. As the last ones fell, the doors to the Dollar Store burst open and a flood of people came pouring out, running for their cars. It was an odd assortment of people, ranging from women with kids to postal uniforms.

No one even glanced our way as they began taking off in various directions.
I did a quick scan of the area as I walked back to the driver’s side of the Humvee. Then I reached down and removed the duty belt from the fallen
Spud
officer. It held another radio, two magazines for a Glock, two sets of handcuffs, a can of pepper spray and a Taser. I did a quick scan of the area and spotted the SPD patrol car in the parking lot of the church across the street. Then I reached down and solemnly removed the badge from her shirt and tucked it in my pocket with Henderson’s.

I backed towards the Humvee and kept watching the area.
The immediate threat was taken care of. There were still plenty of zombies in the area, but nothing close enough to us to be a significant concern. We had a few minutes to catch our breath. Hopping back inside, I checked the fuel gauge. It showed almost a quarter of a tank. Then, inspiration hit me.

“Hey, we’re at a gas station.
Why not use it?”

“Good idea,” said Southard.

“Does anyone know how to activate the pumps at a Stop ‘n’ Rob?” I asked.

“I used to work at a Convenience store,” said EMT from the rear floorboard.

“That’s great,” I said. “Southard, take
fearless
there and go turn on the pumps.”

“It’s a diesel,” said Spec-4.

“Yeah, I’ve filled up a Humvee or two in my day,” said Southard.

“Alright, then,” I said. “Southard, cover EMT while he turns on the pumps and don’t get eaten.
If zombies come after you, tell them you’re high in LDL cholesterol or something.”

“Got it,” he said, grinning like the Cheshire cat.
“Besides, I don’t have to outrun the zombies. Just him.”

He was gesturing towards EMT.

“Larry,” said EMT.

“What?”

“My freakin’ name is Larry.”

“
Fine,” I replied. “Southard, take LARRY the EMT inside and carry on with the mission.”

“Gotchya,” said Southard.
“Charlie Mike
[3]
.”

I pulled the Humvee over to the gas pumps and Southard jumped out with his M-16 at the ready.
Then he practically had to pull EMT out of the backseat by the collar and headed into the C-store. I got out and headed around to the pump, Mossberg in hand. Spec-4 covered us all from the top of the Humvee. As Southard reached the door, I yelled after him.

“Hey, Chuck!
Snag any gas cans you find in there. We might as well fill them too, just in case.”

“On it!”

Once they were inside, I heard two rapid shots from Southard’s M-16. I turned to head inside, but stopped short when I heard Southard yell back to us.

“All clear in here!
I’m just mopping up a couple stragglers! By the way, we need a clean-up on aisle four.”

Spec-4 checked her magazine and popped in a fresh one.
I quickly replaced my magazines in my Glocks, and checked to make sure the Mossberg was full. I was just finishing when all of the pumps lit up.

“Thank you for choosing our Stop ‘n’ Rob,” came Southard’s voice from the speaker.
“You are ready to fill up on pump...aw, hell. We just turned them all on.”

“Smart-ass,” I muttered, as I started the pump and began fueling the Humvee.

“Make sure you fill the tanks in the back, too,” said Spec-4.

I walked to the back end and found four fuel cans mounted inside in a rack.
So I grabbed the nozzle of another pump and started topping them off, as well.

“How’re we looking, up there?”

“All clear, so far. I see a few zoms a couple blocks up, but no immediate threats,” she said.

I checked the fuel pumps, again.
This was taking entirely too long for my comfort. So I kept my left hand free to run the pumps, and held the Mossberg tightly in my right hand. I could shoot the 12 gauge with one hand, but it wasn’t something I enjoyed. The Mossberg kicked like a Missouri Mule. Besides that, I wasn’t really looking forward to firing a shotgun near a gas pump. The results could be devastating.

I was just finishing filling the last of the fuel tanks, when Southard and EMT came trotting out of the store.
They both were loaded down with a bunch of bags, but no fuel cans.

“What the fuck, Chuck?” I asked, as they got to the vehicle.

“No fuel cans to be had,” said Southard. “So we helped ourselves to soda and snacks.”

“Did you leave anything, at all?”