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

by D. A. Roberts

  We retraced our route back to the last stoplight. Then I took our little caravan west without incident. That took us dangerously close to MSU, but it couldn’t be helped. The truck would never make it through the parking lots we’d bounced through on the way in. We needed a smooth ride back to the jail, because I was pretty sure that we’d pushed this particular Humvee about as far as we dared.

  I took a right at the first stoplight we came to. I knew the road was mostly clear and kept on it heading north until I came to a stop sign. The road ended there, with the only options being left or right. East of us were two apartment complexes, sure to be crawling with zombies. West was MSU and I knew for a fact it was crawling with zombies. I just hoped that the horde we’d seen near MSU were still father south. At least that’s where they’d been the last time we went through there. So west, it was.

  I almost held my breath as we approached the intersection at National. On our right was a pizza delivery place and across the street to our left was the taco place where Sanders blasted the Rasta-zombie. Or was that a Zombi-farian. If we could get a bus through here, then our little convoy should be no problem. Then it was just a matter of retracing the route we’d taken in the bus.

  At the intersection, I looked south. I couldn’t see the crowd of zombies but I knew they had to be in the area. Then I looked north. It looked clear, as well. With a sigh of relief, I turned and headed north. The truck and other Humvee followed suit and we passed the first street without a problem. When I slowed down at second one, I could see a huge crowd of zombies blocking the entire street. I’d forgotten about the crowd of zombies that had chased us after Sanders stalled the bus.

  I had no choice but to continue on north. Abandoned cars were getting thicker, the closer that we got to the big grocery store. A couple of times I heard our bumper scrape against another car as we squeezed through an opening. I had to knock a green sedan out of the way at the intersection, but we made it through. The zombies were still in small groups and I thought it best to just ignore them until we had no choice but to engage. We didn’t have the time or ammo for a prolonged fight.

  I could tell that the next major intersection was going to be impassible, even though I was still blocks away. At the stoplight where you turned off to go to the Springfield Cardinals stadium, I looked to the west. It looked clear, so I turned that way. If we could make it to the road that ran next to the square, we were home free. There’d be plenty of room for all of us to get through. Twenty minutes later, we were pulling up to the back gate of the jail.

  We couldn’t fit the FedEx truck in the intake area, so we all went in the delivery gate. There was plenty of room, back there. Medical was waiting for us with several officers providing cover. No zombies made it inside the perimeter. When the gate swung shut, I laid my head back against the seat and closed my eyes. This time, the shakes didn’t come.

  Chapter Sixteen

  Once More Into The Breach

  “Theirs not to reason why, Theirs but to do & die,

  Into the valley of Death, Rode the six hundred”.

  - The Charge of the Light Brigade

  - By Alfred, Lord Tennyson

  It was early afternoon when we made it back to the jail. After introductions were made and everyone was unloaded, medical went to work checking them over. Then they were ushered inside for a hot meal. I was introduced to all of the new people, but I’m terrible with names. Milkman was named something like Phil or Dale, but in my head, he was Milkman. Spec-4 loved it, and took to calling him that as well.

  We asked Milkman and the others to turn in their weapons, since they were inside the facility now. They all complied, reluctantly. There was no sense in having them armed, unless we were going to be overrun. Besides, we weren’t going to be sending civilians out on runs any time soon. At least not without confirming that they knew what they were doing with a firearm.

  We gave the crowd time to eat while we unloaded and organized our most recent haul of supplies. I snagged a leather jacket that fit me, as did Southard, Sanders and Spec-4. Sully and Koob headed inside with medical. Lieutenant Murdock told me he was going to assign both of them to roof duty. With the loss of the main power, we were considering only running the generators at night. That meant that during the day, we would put people with rifles on the roof. While Southard and I helped put gear inside the supply room, Spec-4 and Sanders checked out the Humvees. Spec-4 didn’t look happy when I came walking back out.

  “You did a number on our Humvee,” she said, her tone scolding.

  “Sorry,” I said. “I didn’t have the luxury of taking clear streets. How bad is it?”

  “Surprisingly, not too bad,” she said. “But the bumper and grill look like the floor of a toothpick factory. All in all, it’s in better shape than I expected it to be.”

  “Is it still drivable?”

  “I don’t see why not,” replied Sanders. “Most of the damage is cosmetic. But I’m pretty sure you knocked the front end out of alignment.”

  “Well, it’ll be rough on tires,” I said.

  “True, but don’t expect to go more than 55 or 60 without it getting the shakes,” said Spec-4.

  “Well, we can always steal another one,” I said. “There are two or three on the square.”

  “That might not be a bad idea,” said Spec-4. “There could be more damage than we can see.”

  “I’ll try to be gentle, next time,” I said. “I’ll just tell the zombies to get their shit together and get those streets cleared.”

  We all chuckled at that. About that time Southard came walking back out to us.

  “Hey guys,” he said. “The break-room is pretty much empty now. You ready to get a bite to eat?”

  “Absolutely! I’m starving,” said Sanders.

  “You’re always starving, Sasquatch,” said Southard.

  “I’ll have to agree with Sanders,” I said. “I’m pretty hungry.”

  We all headed inside and down to the break room. The kitchen crew had laid out hamburgers and French fries. Sanders loaded up enough food to feed a small country, and Southard and I each made a couple double cheese burgers and fries. We all snagged some sweet tea and grabbed a table.

  I had a burger about halfway to my lips when the lights went out. I hesitated for a second. When the power came back on, I shrugged and took a big bite. Sanders didn’t seem to notice that the lights went out. He ate a lot, but he burned a lot of calories. We all ate in silence for a few minutes, enjoying the food and the company.

  “Enjoy it while it lasts,” said Southard. “When the generator runs out of gas, we’re out of luck. That means no more hot food.”

  “We passed a parking lot full of propane trucks,” said Spec-4. “If we start snagging those, we can keep the generator going for a long time.”

  “Mmmmhmmm,” I agreed through a mouth full of burger.

  “We have to bring those trucks in,” said Sanders. “I lived on MRE’s for too damned long to go back on them, now.”

  “Yeah, Meals Ready to Excrete,” I said.

  “Wow,” said Spec-4. “You guys called them that way back in the stone age? That’s what we called them.”

  I started to respond when the radio came to life.

  “700 to Grant,” said the voice.

  I sighed heavily before I sat down my burger and keyed up my mic.

  “Go ahead,” I said, with more than a little annoyance in my voice.

  700 didn’t seem to notice.

  “Sir, can you come up to Master Control?”

  “In route,” I said.

  “Here we go, again,” said Spec-4.

  “Better take your chow with you,” said Sanders.

  “Yeah, or Cal will eat it,” said Southard through a mouthful of cheeseburger.

  “You’re not the only ex-soldier here, Cal,” I said, already lifting the tray.

  “Oh yeah,” said Sanders. “I forgot you served back during the Civil War. Did you get to meet President Lincoln?”
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  “Sorry, wrong side. I do have a nice photo of me and Bob E. Lee, though,” I said, flipping him off.

  They all were laughing as I headed for the door, tray in hand. I was falling back into old Army habits. My wife would smack me if she saw me, but I had most of the food wolfed down by the time I reached Master Control. Lieutenant Murdock was waiting for me when I got there.

  “Sorry to interrupt your meal,” he said. “I thought you’d want to hear this.”

  I nodded affirmative as I shoved the last of the fries in my mouth. The L.T. waited a second while I sort of chewed. It drives my wife insane when I do it. Then I sat the empty tray on the table behind me and turned back to him.

  “Sorry about that, sir. I figured that I’d better eat while I had the chance. I kind of got the feeling that I might not get the opportunity for a while.”

  “Hmm…,” said the L.T. “You’re probably right about that. We received word on another group of survivors.”

  “How many, this time?”

  “There are two of ours, Blanchard and Woodrow,” he said, “plus two Highway Patrol Officers.”

  “Where are they?”

  “They’re inside a restaurant on the south side of town.”

  “Which one?”

  “The Golden Corral,” he replied. “But there’s a catch. You’ll have to fight your way in to get them. They’re barricaded inside the cooler.”

  “Now that the power’s out, it’ll get nasty in there pretty fast.”

  “The place is supposedly crawling with zombies,” said the L.T.

  “Any idea how many?”

  “I believe the exact phrase was a ‘whole shit-load’,” he said, smiling. “They didn’t know exactly how many. Do you think you can get to them?”

  “It won’t be easy, sir. That’s right down the street from the Mall. You can bet the farm that place is zombie central, right now. There could easily be a thousand or more.”

  “I see,” said the L.T. “In that case, maybe we won’t be able to get to them.”

  “I won’t rule it out just yet. Not without at least trying. If we have to abort, we will.”

  “You’re going to need both Humvees, again.”

  “We might be going through the square and grabbing another one. My last little foray did a pretty good number on the one I was driving.”

  “Well, at least it’s on the way,” said the L.T.

  “It’s worth a shot, sir. We’ll have to move quickly, though. If they’re held up in a cooler, they might not have a lot of time left. Plus, I’m going to have to do some careful navigation to avoid the mall and the hospitals.”

  “Go ahead and put your team together. I’ll get someone downstairs to help you load gear and ammunition.”

  “Thanks,” I said, and headed out of Master Control.

  “And, Wylie?” said the L.T. “Be careful. You’ve been pushing yourself awfully hard these past few days. I don’t want you to push too hard. We can’t afford for you to burn yourself out.”

  “Desperate times, sir. I’ll sleep when I’m dead.”

  With that, I walked out of Master Control and headed for the stairs. I met Sergeant Daniels at the landing about halfway up the stairs and stopped.

  “Hey, Sarge,” I said. “You got a sec?”

  “Sure, what’s up?”

  “I’ve been thinking about this,” I said, pulling the Sheriff’s badge off of my vest.

  “What about it?”

  “Sheriff Hawkins was right,” I said. “It is heavier than I expected.”

  “It always is, Wylie.”

  “Sarge, I’m not a Sheriff. I’m just a CO. I feel honored just to have carried this, but I don’t deserve it. I think you should take it.”

  “Me?” he asked, surprised. “Why me?”

  “Well, we already saw the reaction we got out of Wright. She won’t follow a CO. Hell, sir, I’m not even POST.”

  “Screw her! You’re ten times the officer she’ll ever be.”

  “Thanks for saying, sir. That’s not all of it, though. I think that the more officers we rescue from other agencies, the more it’ll come up. You’re a road cop. You’re POST certified and you’re a good leader. I think you should take it. You can get respect from everyone. I can’t, no matter what I do.”

  “I think your actions are more than worthy of respect.”

  I noticed he was still looking at the badge.

  “I appreciate that, sir. But you know as well as I do that there won’t be many from the road who will respect a CO.”

  He didn’t say anything. He didn’t have to, and we both knew it. Just because I didn’t have the certification that they had, I was automatically a lesser being. Not worthy of the name Law Enforcement. It didn’t matter that Corrections Officers had the second highest mortality rate of any job in the US.

  “I want you to take it,” I said, holding it out. “Give me a regular badge, if you want, but not this one.”

  Gingerly, he took the offered badge like I was offering the Holy Grail. He held it in his hand with reverence and more than a touch of awe. I was glad to see he didn’t accept it, lightly.

  “When Hawkins died, he said something to me. I think I should share it with you,” I said. “He told me, ‘You’ve got to keep it going. Don’t let it fall. Pass it on when you can’t carry it anymore. It’s more than a badge. It’s an ideal.’”

  He held it in his hand for a long moment, turning it slowly.

  “Wylie,” he said, softly.

  “Take it, sir. It’s yours. I think it was, all along. I just carried it for a while.”

  He took his badge off of his belt and replaced it with the badge of the Sheriff of Nathanael County. Then he handed me his badge.

  “If I’m going to be Sheriff, then I’m making you Sergeant. You’ve earned it. I’d put you in for a commendation, but I don’t think there’s anyone left to send it to.”

  I pinned the Sergeant’s badge on my vest. Somehow, it felt lighter. Daniels was looking at the badge on his belt, a look of surprise mixed with awe on his face.

  “I think you’ll be a much better sheriff than I ever could have been.”

  “That doesn’t mean you get to just fade away,” he said. “We need you. You’re saving lives, Wylie. A lot of people look to you for strength and leadership.”

  “I won’t let you down, sir,” I said. “Now if you’ll excuse me, I have to round up my team and go after more officers.”

  “Wylie, no one’s going to make you go back out there. You’ve done more than enough.”

  “I know I don’t have to, sir. That doesn’t change the fact that it has to be done. I won’t leave them out there to die. Not so long as I can do something about it.”

  “And that’s what people like Wright will never understand. You’re a good man, Wylie Grant.”

  “Thanks,” I said, and turned and headed down the stairs.

  I left Sheriff Daniels standing in silence on the stairs and I didn’t look back. When I hit the bottom of the stairs, I could see the Main Sliders were already open. We’d never have done that when there were inmates in the building, but it made sense to leave them open, now. It used less energy. We could always secure both of them, in an emergency. I hoped that it wouldn’t come to that. I headed through the sliders and back into the break room. I found Spec-4 sitting with Sanders, Southard and the Fair Grove guys. Even the officer that had been shot was there. They were all laughing.