“If they have the area surrounded with the dead,” warned Bergelmir, “then they are preparing to make sure you perish, even if you beat them. Once they are dead, their control of the creatures will cease and they will attack you.”
“That’s what I figured on, too,” I said. “I doubt that this will be even close to a fair fight. I don’t think that’s Grimnir’s style.”
“Grimnir does not know the meaning of honor,” spat Bergelmir.
“I’d have to agree with Big Blue, here,” said Butcher. “That guy’s a cheating son-of-a-bitch. He’ll snake you, for sure.”
“I’m expecting that,” I said. “I plan on walking away from this fight. I don’t give a fuck what he has in mind, I don’t intend to lose.”
“Then I see no other course but to proceed as you said,” agreed Bergelmir. “We do not, however, have to like the idea.”
“Then I want everyone ready to head out when I do,” I said, gesturing at the convoy. “No sense waiting for them to go back on their word. By the time I engage them, I want you guys to be miles away from here.”
“I’ve already begun planning our route out of here,” said Marko. “I think I’ve got a good idea of how to get clear with the least amount of direction changes. If we can get out onto Interstate 44, then it’s just a matter of the Bison clearing our path.”
“Once you’re on the road, don’t stop for anything,” I cautioned. “Make me a path to follow and I should catch you before you reach the Stanton exit, I would estimate.”
“If you don’t catch us by then,” said Butcher, “I’ll come back for you.”
“Don’t bother,” I said, shaking my head. “If I haven’t caught you by then, I’m not coming. Plain and simple. Only one of us will be walking away from this.”
“Or possibly no one,” warned Bergelmir. “They will have contingencies to take you with them, even if you win.”
“I’ll be watching for that,” I replied. “If I win and can make it to the bike, I stand a good chance of outrunning the dead.”
“Not if they surround you,” said Butcher. “That bike is badass, but it won’t keep you from getting dragged off of it by a few hundred hungry undead.”
“Fair enough,” I said. “I’ll try not to get surrounded.”
Heading for the bike, I swung my leg over and settled back into the saddle. It felt inexplicably good to be behind the handlebars of this machine. Engaging the electric start, the massive V-8 engine rumbled to life. It idled like a dragon’s growl, deep and full of bass. Revving the engine a few times, I let it warm up while the others scrambled for their vehicles. In a few moments, everyone was loaded and ready.
Marko went around handing out walkie talkies that he had found in the groundskeeper’s shed. They didn’t have a long range, but it was enough to keep everyone in the convoy in contact. Almost as an afterthought, he walked over and handed one to me.
“Here, man,” he said, smiling. “Just in case.”
“What’s this for?” I asked, grinning. “I’ll be way out of range.”
“I think they have something like a ten mile range,” he explained. “If you get close to catching up with us, you can call and let us know you’re coming.”
“I’ll keep that in mind,” I said, tucking the radio into my pack.
“Good luck,” he said, extending his hand.
I took his hand and gripped it tightly, shaking once.
“Thanks,” I said. “To you, too. I think we’re all going to need it before we’re through.”
“You’re probably right,” he agreed. “I owe you a drink when we’re safe.”
“I’ll take you up on that,” I said. “See you then.”
With that, he headed for the Bison. He was going to be riding shotgun for Bergelmir. We already had drivers assigned to all of the vehicles, so that left him free to be security on the lead vehicle. I really hoped that they wouldn’t need it, but I had the feeling that they were going to. It’s been my experience that since this Gods-damned apocalypse began; things rarely went smoothly when I was involved. I guess I’m just a shit magnet.
Engaging the clutch and letting the bike roll forward, I headed for the gate that opened near the concession area, just outside the stadium. That was the street that had the least amount of clutter obstructing our way. Two of Butcher’s men unlocked the gates and swung them open wide, then sprinted for their own motorcycles.
Before they even had their engines started, I was throttling up and heading out the gate. I turned to the right heading towards the Arch as the Bison headed left. They were going through back roads to get to another on-ramp leading to Interstate 44 West. I glanced back to see the Bison hit two parked cars with the plow and knock them both rolling out of the way without any effort, clearing the path for the next vehicles. It was working like a charm.
Chapter Eighteen
Showdown
“Courageous, untroubled, mocking and violent-that is what Wisdom wants us to be. Wisdom is a woman, and loves only a warrior.”
- Friedrich Nietzsche
Despite the abandoned cars in the road, I was able to maneuver through them easily, occasionally going up onto the sidewalk to avoid particularly bad obstructions. I was surprised at how easily such a large bike handled, especially at lower speeds. I deliberately took a circuitous path to the Arch, just to give me longer to get the feel for the big bike’s handling capabilities. Despite that, I arrived at the Arch all too soon.
All during my drive over, I was shocked to see not a single undead wandering around on the streets. I didn’t even see any when I passed the hotel that I had collapsed on my last trip through the area. I could hear the throaty roar of the Boss Hoss echoing off through the tangled mass of buildings that still stood in the downtown area.
The place was barely recognizable. Half of the buildings were either falling down or severely damaged to the point of collapse. Only the Historical Courthouse still stood, largely intact. The heavy stonework had held up well against the force of the explosion that had caused so much damage. I couldn’t help but marvel at how one of the oldest buildings in the area had survived far better than more modern and supposedly stronger architecture.
As I approached the Arch, I drove up over the curb and followed the sidewalk that lead towards the base of the massive monument. There in the middle of the waist-high grass, stood Grimnir and Vigdis. They stood a few feet apart, stock-still like carven statues of ancient warriors. The only thing that spoiled the image was the fact that Grimnir’s long dark hair was fluttering in the breeze. Other than that, they stood immobile but I could feel their eyes on me as I approached.
Throttling back, I slowed nearly to a stop. I glanced around the area looking for any sign of an army of the dead set to overwhelm me at the first opportunity. When I didn’t see any, I braked to a halt and put my feet down. With a heavy sigh, I shut off the engine. The sudden silence that filled the air was broken only by the sound of the wind as it whispered through the remains of the surrounding trees. It was eerie.
Putting down the kickstand, I swung off of the bike and turned to face them. The M-4 strapped to my chest was in easy range, but I knew I wasn’t going to be using it. Not in this fight, anyway. Neither Grimnir nor Vigdis carried any weapons other than swords and knives. Despite the fact that they outnumbered me and were stronger than I was, I couldn’t bring myself to use a firearm to gain the upper hand. If I was going to win this fight, it would be honorably.
Removing my pack, I hung the straps over the backrest on the bike’s seat. I decided to leave my body armor in place, despite the fact that it would offer little in the way of protection against edged weapons. I knew that if I did manage to find a way to beat them, I would likely be leaving in one Hel of a hurry. If they called in the undead to finish the job, I doubted I would have long before they launched their attack. I needed to be able to get on the bike and ride.
I began surveying the area, looking for where I should expect the undead to appr
oach from. There were buildings in the area that could easily hide large numbers of them, but they were far enough away that I would have plenty of time to run for the bike and get moving before they arrived. Even Sprinters couldn’t cover that much ground fast enough to prevent me from getting out of the area. That gave me a little bit of confidence.
My confidence faded when I remembered that the museum and Arch visitor’s center was beneath my feet. It was easily big enough to hide hundreds, if not thousands of the dead. I assumed that would be where they were hiding the Stalkers, but there would still be enough room for a small army of other dead. My confidence faded faster than it had appeared.
I knew that I had to keep from reacting or they would know I had figured it out. If they knew, then there was no reason to conceal it from me anymore. They would call them out and surround me, effectively sealing me in. So long as they didn’t call them, I still had a shot at escape.
“No wonder they picked this location,” I muttered.
I began to feel more and more apprehensive about my chances of getting out of this alive. My only comfort was the knowledge that they couldn’t possibly have many of the Stalkers left. Between what we had already killed and the ones that were scattered between here and Lake of the Ozarks, they couldn’t have more than a handful, at best. With the ones we killed at the stadium gone and the ones I killed beneath the Arch, I was confident that they had to be nearly out of the most lethal of the undead.
Removing all of my guns with the exception of the XVR, I hung them with my pack and adjusted my sword belt. Turning around, I headed out into the grassy field where the Hrimthurssar were waiting. Grimnir watched me approach with calm detachment, but Vigdis appeared mildly distraught. I wasn’t quite certain what was bothering her, but she didn’t seem at all happy with the situation. If that was the case, then her mind might not be in the game. That might give me a slightly better chance to pull this off.
I approached to within about ten yards of them and stopped. Placing my hand on the hilt of my sword, I glanced back and forth at each of them meeting their gaze for a moment before locking eyes with Grimnir.
“I’m here,” I said gravely.
“So it would seem,” rumbled Grimnir. “Frankly, I’m surprised you came.”
“Really?” I replied, eyeing him angrily. “I’m not the one who had to be carried away from the fight last time. I don’t run from battle.”
That didn’t seem to sit too well with him. He didn’t immediately reply, but made a sour face and flexed his hands open and closed several times. If it was intended to intimidate me, it wasn’t working. I could see the fresh lines where his wounds had closed; leaving the telltale marks of both teeth and claws on his shoulders and arms.
“Nice scars,” I said, snidely.
This did nothing to ease the fierce look on his face, but Vigdis had to turn her head to hide the smirk on her face. I had just scored a point without even drawing my sword. The smoldering look in his eyes told me that I had nearly pushed him to the point of snapping with that last remark. That was good, a pissed off opponent was not a thinking opponent. I could use that, as well.
“I do not think you fared well in that battle, either,” he rumbled through clenched teeth.
“Yeah, I was hurt,” I replied. “But at least I didn’t run.”
With deliberate slowness, Grimnir drew the massive two-handed sword from the sheath on his back. The blue-black metal of the blade gleamed in the hazy light of the sun. I could see the runes that were etched into the blade and the keen edge along both sides of the blade. Bringing it around, he gripped the hilt with both hands and leveled the blade out in front of him with the tip pointing directly at me with hate blazing in his eyes.
“I will savor running this blade through you, Grant,” he growled through clenched teeth.
“We’ll see,” I said, drawing my own sword and bringing it up in a guard position.
“I promise you,” he said darkly, “you will not survive this time.”
“So be it,” I replied. “My people made it clear. Even if I fall, I win.”
“So you think,” he said, smiling cruelly. “We shall see just how far they make it. We have a surprise waiting for them. They won’t get far.”
“We’ll see,” I said, hoping he was wrong.
I really hoped that they made it clear. Then again, it was completely like Grimnir to orchestrate this as a trap for all of us. At least outside of the stadium, they had a fighting chance. Locked inside the stadium, we had no chance of surviving a concentrated attack. Even if we could have withstood a siege, there was no way that the ballpark was shelter enough to survive the coming Fimbul Winter.
“I think they have a good chance at getting through,” I said, shaking my head.
“You underestimate our reach, Grant,” he said, chuckling. “We know your planned route. There is no way that they will get through.”
I hoped that the Bison would prove him wrong. It was tossing cars aside like they were toys; there is no reason that it wouldn’t do the same to the dead. Unless there were miles of zombies, they would push through. The motorcycles might not fare so well, but the other vehicles should be able to follow right behind the Bison. I could only hope the bikes would make their own way around the dead.
“We have a few surprises in store for you, as well,” said Grimnir.
From the evil grin on his face, I doubted that I was going to like whatever it was. There was one thing that I was certain about though. That was the fact that I really wanted to wipe that grin off of his face. In fact, I was planning on doing just that. I might not escape whatever trap he had set for me, but I was not going to go out alone.
“Are you planning on talking me to death?” I asked, trying to hit a nerve.
Apparently, it worked. Suddenly, his face darkened and contorted in rage. With a bellow that would wake the dead, he whipped his sword around behind him and charged at me. I had plenty of time to react since he was far enough away from me. I prepared to defend and glanced at Vigdis to see what she was going to do. For the moment anyway, she seemed content to let Grimnir fight me alone.
Grimnir brought his sword in from over his head with a blow designed to cleave me in half. That’s exactly why I decided it was best to simply not be there when it landed. Side-stepping to my left, I swung my sword over and connected with his blade forcing it into the ground. The tip of the blade sunk into the dirt and brought him to an abrupt halt. While he was momentarily distracted, I punched him in the face with my left hand.
The blow did more to enrage him than it did to actually hurt him. I had to admit that hitting him in the jaw was like punching a brick wall. Although it probably hurt my hand worse than it did his face, he still recoiled in infuriated indignation. It almost seemed that he was shocked that I would even be able to defend against him, let alone land a blow. Point for me, I guess.
With another bellow of rage, he yanked the sword free of the ground and swung around to prepare for another attack. I was preparing to dodge when I felt something grab my ankle. I looked down to see one of the dead holding onto my foot and reaching up to bite me. At first, I thought it was a Crawler, until the others around it began to stand up. They had dozens of the damned things hiding in the tall grass, waiting in ambush for me. I had to admit, it was a clever trap and I hadn’t seen it coming. No wonder Vigdis had remained unmoving. She had been controlling the dead.
With a dive born of desperation, I lurched to the side just in the nick of time to avoid Grimnir’s blow. Luckily, the force of the swing could not be easily stopped and he buried the blade into the zombie that had a hold of my foot. Instantly, it released its grip and I rolled away. I came to my feet less than an arm’s length from another zombie that was already reaching for me. I managed to lead with my sword and impaled it on the tip.
Yanking it free and spinning around, I sliced the head neatly off and continued around to face Grimnir. Around us, more and more of the dead were emerging from the
long grass. Had I been on higher ground I would have seen them when I arrived, but I couldn’t from the seat of the motorcycle. Their trap was ingenious. If I hadn’t been in such dire circumstances, I would have been impressed.
Grimnir lurched around, shaking the creature from his sword with a flick of his massive wrists. Suddenly, I wished that I hadn’t left my best firearms on the bike. If they weren’t going to fight fair, then why should I? It was time to start getting creative. It was time to do what I did best and that was to improvise and break something. Under the circumstances, it couldn’t really make things any worse, could it?
Grimnir began to advance on me with murder in his eyes as the dead began to move to surround me. If they sealed me inside a circle, I was done. There would be nowhere left for me to run and nothing left to do but fight until I died. There was no backup coming, this time. There was only the option of run or die. The question was, run to where?
I knew that the museum beneath our feet was probably crawling with Stalkers, but I was cut off from the bike. I would have to go through Grimnir as well as about a dozen of the dead to reach it. Another option that ran though my head was to engage Vigdis and break her concentration. That would free the undead to act, but then it would become a free for all. There was no telling what they were going to do then. In this case, it was probably best to leave them under her control. At least then, I could predict what they might do.
The only options I could see were to either make a break for the river or head for the Arch. If I could get inside the stairwell, at least I could limit my direction of attack. They could only come at me from below. Although it would trap me inside the Arch, it was also the last thing they would expect me to do. I could hold out for a while anyway; far longer than I was going to last out here.
“Fuck it,” I hissed and broke for the entrance of the monument.
The only entrance that I had a shot at reaching was the damaged end. I just hoped that the stairs were intact. If not, it was going to be the shortest defense in history. I wouldn’t have any other exits to fall back on. If the stairs were usable, I could at least plan on falling back and heading down the stairs on the other side. If they tried to follow me, it would buy me enough time to reach the bike. I’d wing it from there. Hel, I was winging it now.
Ragnarok Rising Page 35
