The Reckoning - 02 (33 page)

             
“I’ll be as gentle as I can,” I promised. “Just hang on and try not to move.”

             
She nodded and reached up to take my hand. Her hand was slightly cold and trembling and I held it for a few moments before giving it a squeeze and releasing it. I nodded at her and picked up the gauze and the multi-tool. She watched me for just a moment longer, and then turned to face the back of the couch. She took a deep breath and steadied herself. She was ready. I wasn’t sure if I was.

             
I had no way of knowing just how long the piece of shrapnel was and how deep it went into her leg. If it hit an artery, she’d die. I didn’t have the skill to perform any kind of surgery. My first aid skills were limited to just the basics. If I couldn’t stop the bleeding, I’d lose her. But leaving the piece of shrapnel in wasn’t an option. It could do more damage to her when we moved. We couldn’t stay here, either. No one was coming for us. We had to move to survive.

             
I reached over and took the flask from her. I took a quick pull off of it, to steady my own nerves. Then I capped it and sat it beside her. My hands stopped shaking as the warmth hit my stomach. Picking up the multi-tool again, I readied myself. It was now, or never.

             
“All-father, guide my hands,” I whispered. “Lady Freya, heal this warrior-maiden. She’s worthy of becoming a Valkyrie, but I don’t want to lose her. I need her.”

             
Gently, I pulled the skin around the shrapnel back as far as I could to expose the piece of metal. I heard Spec-4 gasp, but she held still. I felt her body go tense beneath my hands, but she didn’t move. Tough was not the word for this girl. Cautiously, I reached in with the point of the multi-tool and grasped the shard. Once I had a firm grasp, I began to pull as gently as I could.

             
Spec-4 moaned and I could see tears streaming down her face, but she held still. With agonizing slowness, the shard began to come loose. I could hear the wet tearing sound as it came free and slid out of the wound. Sweat ran in rivers down my face and into my eyes, but I didn’t flinch. I couldn’t risk shaking the multi-tool and causing more damage. As it slipped free of the wound, I could see that it was shaped like an arrowhead, about two inches long and jagged.

             
Blood began to flow from the wound as soon as the shard was clear, but it didn’t spray out. I clamped down with the gauze and applied pressure to the wound. Spec-4 relaxed her muscles and went limp. I thought she’d passed out until she turned her head and looked at me, relief on her face. She spat out the jerky and smiled at me. There were tears on her cheeks and in her eyes, but it seemed that the pain had subsided.

             
I held the pressure for a few minutes, and then gently removed the gauze. The blood flow had slowed considerably. The wound was going to need stitches, but it was going to stop bleeding. I breathed a sigh of relief and whispered my thanks to the Gods. She was going to be alright.

             
“I’ve got a sewing kit and some superglue,” I said. “You get to pick. I’ve got to close that wound.”

             
“Use the glue,” she said with a frown. “It’ll be faster.”

             
“Fair enough,” I said, opening my pack.

             
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.