We spent the next two days tearing down the old snow plow and attaching the blade to the big Ford. While we were doing that, Butcher and two of his men went out and brought in the tour bus. We were lucky. It was in decent shape. It didn’t have to get us to the west coast; it just had to make it a bit less than two hundred miles back to Bennett Springs. After that, it didn’t matter anymore. We wouldn’t need it, again.
Bergelmir joined me on the field later the same night that I woke up. He was instrumental in placing the plow blade on the truck. Without his help, I doubt that we would ever have been able to lift it. He just grabbed a hold of it, then grunted with the effort as he stood up. Between the two of us, we held it in place while the others bolted it down securely. Not a moment too soon, I might add. That damned thing was heavy.
When we had finished, we all sat around the home-team dugout and had a few beers. They weren’t cold, but they tasted great to me. It was nice to feel almost normal for a few minutes. I kept myself limited to three beers, but didn’t really feel the effects. With night coming on, it wasn’t a good idea to be impaired. We had more than doubled our patrols since the night of the attack. We lost five of our own people that night when they got inside the field. We couldn’t afford to let that happen again.
With the influx of supplies that they found, we were able to equip everyone with military grade weapons. I was able to replace all of my expended ammo, for everything except the XVR and the Beowulf. I would have to be careful with those, although frankly I didn’t use them as much as my other weapons. Mainly, that was because of the sound suppressors. Whenever stealth wasn’t an issue, I much preferred to use the Beowulf.
That evening, I finally got the chance to sit down and speak to Bergelmir at length. There were a number of things that I wanted to discuss with him, if he was willing to talk. Just because he joined our side didn’t mean that he necessarily trusted us. I know that the others weren’t sure what to think about him.
I found him sitting alone near the pitcher’s mound. He was staring off towards the east with his knees drawn up in front of him. He didn’t acknowledge me when I approached, but I had the feeling that he knew I was there. Instead of speaking, I just took a seat on the ground next to him and waited for him to say something.
I couldn’t help but think of all the games where I had watched some of my favorite pitchers pitch from this very spot. It felt strange to be thinking about that, but if there was one thing I hoped would survive this nightmare, it was baseball.
“Is there something you wish to discuss with me?” he asked, after a moment.
“Actually,” I said, hesitantly, “there are several things I want to talk about.”
“It would appear that I have plenty of time,” he said, still not looking at me.
“I understand how hard this must be for you,” I began, reluctantly. “I’m still not sure why you chose to help me instead of fighting against me.”
“Did you not hear how they spoke?” he said, turning to face me. “You, a man who only knew me from the other side of a sword, treated me with more honor and respect than my supposed allies.”
“That’s not what I meant,” I said. “You turned away from the Hrimthurssar. That’s a big deal. That’s more than just changing sides, that’s a shift in your allegiances to the Gods.”
“Yes, it is,” he replied. “I can no longer call myself a follower of Loki.”
“You’re with us, now,” I said, shrugging. “Does it matter who you follow?”
“But, I am no longer Hrimthurssar,” he said, as if that explained everything.
“That doesn’t matter,” I said. “What matters is that you are a warrior and you fought with honor.”
“That is easy for you to say,” he said, shaking his head. “You are Einherjar.”
“The important thing is that you are free, now,” I replied. “You fought with honor and we are proud to have you among us.”
“That is good of you to say, but the others may not feel as you do,” he said, frowning.
“Give them time,” I said. “They will, when they get to know you.”
“What of the other Einherjar?”
“Yeah, about that,” I said, shifting my position. “Grimnir mentioned there were four of us. I only know of two for sure; myself and Marko.”
“The other two are among you, yet you have not seen it,” explained Bergelmir. “One was the girl you were protecting the night we fought.”
“The girl?” I muttered, confused. “You mean Bridgett?”
“Yes, I believe that was the name you told me,” he said, nodding.
“Who is the other one?” I asked, glancing around us.
“The one you call Butcher,” he said, jerking his thumb towards the main part of the building. “He is one of you.”
“I had a feeling that Butcher was one,” I muttered, shaking my head. “The old man said there would be five.”
“What old man?” asked Bergelmir, guardedly.
“There was this old man,” I began. “I met him when I was a prisoner of a group called the Freemen.”
I proceeded to tell him about the torture I suffered at their hands and how the old man would come to me and bring me food. I explained about how he died, and how I kept having visions of him. How he seemed to be guiding me on my way throughout this journey.
“I’ve seen him in visions, many times,” I said, softly. “I wonder if I’ve been imagining him all along.”
“We only knew of the four here, plus one far south,” he explained. “We were told to destroy you all before you could stop Ragnarok.”
“What do you mean, stop it?” I asked, surprised.
“There are plans in motion,” he said, shrugging. “If you were to move against them, you could change the course of things.”
“I think that’s what the old man has in mind for me,” I said, shaking my head. “I think that’s what all of this has been gearing up for.”
“Perhaps you are correct,” said Bergelmir. “Perhaps that is why I too have seen the old man in visions.”
“You’ve seen him?” I asked, shocked.
“Yes,” he said. “Long white hair and beard with a rag over his left eye. Thin as a rail.”
“Sounds like the same guy,” I agreed. “What did he say to you?”
“It was he that made me question the intent of my so called friends,” he explained. “He pointed out that while you fought me with honor, they knew nothing of it. That if I was to be the warrior that I was destined to be, then I needed to choose the path of honor.”
“So you decided to help me?” I mused. “For which I am very grateful.”
“How could I call myself an honorable warrior?” he began. “When I saw you willing to lay down your life to defend a girl and my own people were willing to slaughter innocents just to get to you. How was there any honor in what they planned? There was never truly a choice for me. Not if I had any honor, at all.”
“Well, I’m glad you decided to come with me,” I said, smiling. “The others will be grateful that you’re here, too. Once they realize what you have done for them, that is. I might have to nudge that along a bit.”
With that, the big warrior stood and turned to face me. The solemn look on his face told me that whatever he was about to say, it was gravely serious. I stood to face him, still looking up slightly to see his face. He extended his hand and we grasped forearms, locking our grips firmly.
“I need to say something to you,” he said, his deep voice rumbling.
I just nodded, not sure what to expect.
“I pledge my sword to you and your cause,” he said, softly. “I will shed my blood and die beside you, if that is where our paths take us.”
“And I to you,” I replied. “I will gladly stand beside you in battle.”
“Does this make us friends?” he asked, reluctantly.
“No,” I replied, smiling. “It makes us brothers.”
“Indeed,” he replied, smili
ng broadly. “I was not certain how welcome I would be, considering our past battles.”
“The future is not yet written,” I said. “Let’s forget the past and forge ahead. There is plenty of work for us to do.”
Then I suddenly had an epiphany. It struck me like a bolt from the blue and I was suddenly as sure of it as I was that the sun would rise in the morning. There was a reason that Grimnir and the others didn’t know of another Einherjar. It was because they hadn’t been chosen, yet. Bergelmir was the fifth Einherjar.
Chapter Seventeen
The Bison
"I dislike death; however, there are some things
I dislike more than death.
Therefore, there are times when I will not avoid danger."
- Mencius
As we welded the final pieces of steel-mesh over the windows of the big Ford F-650, I could see the plan was almost ready. The snow-plow blade was in place and the vehicle was nearly ready to roll. We had bolted additional fuel tanks in the back because we knew that stopping for fuel was not going to be possible. Also, the amount of work we had in mind for the big truck was going to make fuel economy impossible. All that was left was to give the beast a name.
Butcher walked over to me with a big smile on his face. I could see that he was pleased with the progress that we had made. The truck was finished, the transport bus was ready and the motorcycles were prepped for the journey. We were almost ready to leave the relative safety of the park.
“What do you think?” asked Butcher, jerking his thumb at the truck. “Beauty, isn’t she?”
“All she needs now is a name,” I replied, nodding in appreciation.
“Do you have something in mind already?” he asked, chuckling.
“I do,” I answered with a smirk. “She’s big, powerful, sleek, black as the midnight sky and ready to bash her way through anything that gets in her way.”
“True,” he replied. “She needs something tough, then.”
“How about The Bison?” I replied.
“Bison, huh?” he said, scratching his chin. “I like it. Not many animals tougher than a Bison.”
“Exactly,” I said, grinning. “What do you think?”
“I like it,” he replied, nodding.
“Agreed,” said Bergelmir. “Very powerful.”
“Then it’s settled,” I said. “How close to finished is she?”
“The tanks are installed, but we still have to fill them,” said Butcher. “I’ve got some of my men out scavenging for fuel now. I’ll let you know when we’ve stockpiled enough for the trip.”
“Good,” I replied. “How long do you think that will take?”
“Shouldn’t be long now, I imagine,” he said. “Depends on how much they find.”
“Good, the sooner we get moving, the better,” I said, heading back towards the main entrance.
Marko was waiting for me as I arrived, holding a clipboard. He looked pleased as I climbed the stairs to where he stood on the first landing. Handing me a bottle of water, he motioned for me to take one of the seats before he sat down and brought the clipboard up to where he could read it.
“We’re in good shape on ammo,” he said, nodding. “Thanks to that last big supply run, we have all the 5.56mm we could use. There were four cases of grenades and a few claymore mines. We even scored a few new weapons. Now everyone who can shoot has been armed.”
“What about other supplies?” I asked, uncapping the bottle and taking a long pull.
“We’re in decent shape for everything but medical supplies,” he replied. “So long as we don’t get any major injuries between now and when we get to your camp, we should be fine.”
“I can’t guarantee that,” I said, shaking my head. “We have no idea what the road will hold for us. It’s best to be prepared for the worst.”
“Got it,” he said, making a note on his paper. “I’ll add that to the list.”
“We also need to prioritize,” I said, tapping the clipboard. “Not everything we have will fit in the trailer and in the bus. Unfortunately, we can’t take it all with us.”
“Then what’s our priority?” he asked.
“Weapons and ammo are a must,” I replied. “Food is big on the list, too. Hopefully, we won’t need most of the other things. The alcohol and clothing items might not make the trip.”
“If we load all of the guns and ammo, there won’t be a hell of a lot of room left,” he said, glancing up at me. “There’s just too much gear.”
“Then I guess we’re going to need another truck,” I said, smiling. “We need those supplies. The beer and clothing are optional.”
“Well, there is that panel truck in the garage,” he said, glancing at me.
“You mean the one they stuck me in when they captured me?” I asked, grinning.
“Yeah, that’s the one,” he said, chuckling. “Bet they didn’t realize how big of a mistake that was going to be.”
“They underestimated me,” I said, shrugging. “It’s a good thing, too. If they hadn’t we wouldn’t be having this conversation.”
“Fair enough,” he said. “I’ll add the truck to the convoy list and see if I can locate a driver for it.”
“Alright,” I agreed. “Get the gear loaded ASAP and be ready to head out. I want to get on the road as soon as we can.”
“On it,” he said, and headed off towards the ramp that led inside.
I finished off my bottle of water and headed back towards the skybox where I had been sleeping. I wanted to double check to make sure I had all of my own gear packed, as well. I needed to start loading it all into the big saddlebags on the Boss Hoss. I also needed to fashion a sheath for the bike where I could put my rifle for quick access. I figured that there would be zero chance that we would make it all the way back to Bennett Springs without firing a shot.
When I walked in the door, I found Christina Wilder already inside. She looked up in surprise when I walked in; nearly dropping the bag she was holding. If the look on her face hadn’t been so scared, I would have laughed. I didn’t figure that she would appreciate my sense of humor.
“You scared me, Mr. Grant,” she said, smiling weakly.
“Wylie,” I said, smiling. “You can call me Wylie. Mr. Grant is entirely too formal for my tastes.”
“Alright,” she replied. “Only if you call me Chris.”
I had to admit, it sounded better than the tag of “Spec-4’s mom” that I had been using in my head.
“Ok, Chris,” I said, heading over to where my bedroll was spread out. “Sorry if I scared you.”
“It’s not your fault,” she said. “I’ve been jumpy ever since those things got inside the other night. Now every noise I hear, I’m afraid it’s them.”
“Don’t be,” I assured her. “We’re almost out of here. As soon as we have enough fuel for the trip, we’re leaving.”
“Good,” she said, smiling. “I can’t wait to see my daughter, again. I’m sure that she thinks her father and I are dead.”
“Yeah,” I agreed. “I’m sure she does. I’m happy to be reuniting you. I feel like that’s one of the reasons all this has happened to me. That one bit of happiness, finding you and bringing you back to her, well, it’s…”
“Redemption,” she finished for me.
The old man’s words suddenly echoed through my head. Redemption for all the burdens I carry inside me. I wasn’t sure if that was even possible. Then my thoughts turned to Bergelmir. Perhaps it wasn’t my redemption that the old man spoke of. Maybe it was Bergelmir’s. His decision to join us instead of remaining on the path of the Hrimthurssar might be what he meant. It made about as much sense as anything else I could think of.
“Thank you,” said Chris. “For everything.”
“What?” I said, confused. “I haven’t gotten you back to your daughter yet.”
“I mean for everything else,” she said, smiling. “The rescue and now our liberation. You’ve done a lot for us in a very short time.”
“We’ll call it even,” I said, smiling. “After all, you took care of me while I was wounded.”
“Alright,” she said, reluctantly. “I’ll accept that, for now.”
I nodded at her and started packing the rest of my gear. Once everything was secure, I put my pack back on and headed for the door. As I walked out, I glanced over my shoulder and noticed that she was watching me leave with a slightly perplexed look on her face. I briefly wondered what that was about, but shook it off by the time I reached the stairs.
I must have had a similar look on my face, because when I ran into Marko he commented on it.
“Whoa,” he said, as he met me on the stairs. “Something on your mind?”
“Nah,” I said, shaking my head. “Just thinking. Anything new?”
“The scrounge teams just got back,” he said, checking his clipboard. “They brought in more fuel and some supplies. Looks like we’re clear to head out.”
Checking my watch, I noted that it was late morning and I knew that we would have a three hour trip under normal circumstances. Having to clear the roadway was not going to be easy, so you could bet the trip would take much longer. If we could be loaded and ready to go in an hour or two at the most, then we had a good shot of being back in our camp by nightfall.
I briefly considered loading up today and heading out first thing in the morning, but I knew that each night we stayed here was a risk. Grimnir and the others could return with an army of the dead and we’d be finished. This place wasn’t designed to withstand a siege. It could keep out quite a few of the dead, but a concentrated attack would be more than the fences and gates could take. It wouldn’t take long before they were inside and our escape routes would be limited. No, it would be best if we got moving as quickly as possible.
“OK,” I said, nodding. “Let’s get everything loaded as quick as possible and get the fuck out of here. I want to be safely back at Bennett Springs by the time the sun goes down.”
“What’s the hurry?” he asked, looking concerned.
“Every minute we’re here is a minute that they might come back,” I said. “If they surround this place, it will become our tomb.”
Ragnarok Rising Page 33
