Ragnarok Rising: The Awakening (Book One of The Ragnarok Rising Saga) (5 page)

“Wylie, thank God,” said my wife, her tone frantic.

“It’s ok, babe,” I said, trying to sound calmer than I felt. “Tell me what happened.”

“You were right!
I saw them. I saw some of the rioters. Wylie, I think they were
dead
!”

“Yeah, I know, babe.
Are you and the boys alright?”

“Yes, we’re fine.
But I never should have stopped at Mega-Mart before we left town.”

“What?” I almost shouted.
“I thought you were going straight to the lake?”

My wife always lived up to her marriage vows, with the exception of the obey part.
You know; love, honor and
obey
. She pretty much ignored that last one.

“Well, I wanted to be sure we had enough supplies.
Since you were so worried, I bought more ammo for the pistol and the shotgun. Don’t be mad at me for using the credit card, but I bought all they had.”

I couldn’t help but laugh out loud at that.
The irony was absolutely perfect. The world was being overrun by zombies and she was worried about the damned credit card. That was the last thing in the world that I was worried about, now.

“That’s fine, babe.
I could care less about the credit card, right now. How much ammo did you get?”

“I bought a
bout four hundred dollars worth, but that’s just the ammunition. I spent another five hundred on food and camping supplies. I bought propane for the cook stove and all of the hand-crank powered lanterns they had in stock. I also bought another shotgun.”

“That’s my girl,” I said, smiling. “Where are you, right now?”

“We’re out on the boat. We have Kris Newberry’s daughter with us and my sister and her girls. My parents didn’t think that there was anything to worry about, and I couldn’t convince them to come.”

“I’ll talk to them on my way out of town,” I reassured her.

“And when will that be?”

“I don’t know, babe.
I’m clear on the other side of the county, working a road block. I promise I
will
come for you.”

“What do we do if someone tries to get aboard the boat?”

“Well babe, honestly, I think I’d probably shoot first and ask questions later. Not all of the rioters are dead. Some are just scum-bags looking to loot and rape. Use your best judgment if someone shows up, but I wouldn’t let anyone on board if it was me.”

“We’ll be waiting for you.
I love…..”
The cell phone chose that moment to lose the damned signal.

“Damn it!” I cursed and just barely refrained from throwing the phone.

“Keep it together, Grant,” snapped Henderson.

“
Henderson, why don’t you go fuck yourself?” I replied, venom in my voice.

I started to take a step towards
Henderson.

“Hey, hey,” said one of the Guardsmen, stepping in between us.
“We’ve got bigger problems, right now. You two can sort this shit out later.”

Henderson took several steps back and actually put his hand on his pistol.
I knew right then that Rickey Henderson and I were going to have to come to an understanding before one of us got hurt. If that arrogant little cod was willing to pull a gun on me for cursing at him, we were going to be in some serious trouble when we encountered actual rioters. What little respect I had for Henderson just vanished like a puff of smoke.

I put away my cell phone and stalked to the other side of the barrier.
I wanted to put some distance between myself and Rickey before I knocked him on his ass. Right about then, we began to hear gunshots coming from the town of Fair Grove. All our attention was now focused on the little town just a few hundred yards south of us. The gunfire was sporadic, but continued for almost a minute before going quiet.

“What do you think’
s going on?” asked one of the guardsmen.

I noticed that he was looking at me when he asked the question.
Before I could answer, Henderson chimed in and cut me off.

“It’s probably just looters.
It’s not your problem. You have your own orders to worry about.”

The guardsman gave
Henderson a dirty look after his last comment. I don’t think they liked the idea of taking orders from the little idiot any more than I did. That made me smile. It wasn’t just other officers that hated that little punk. He was pretty much universally hated. To know him was to loathe him.

About this time, I started to pay more attention to our two soldiers.
Since they were both wearing body armor and helmets, I could only see their ranks. One was an E-4 and the other was an E-2. Back in my day in the Army, most E-4’s were called Specialists, so that nick-name gelled in my brain right then and there. I’d call him Spec-4 and the other one E-2.

Spec-4 had a combat patch on his right shoulder that indicated he’d been in combat with the 101
st
Airborne Division. He also had a CAB, or a Combat Action Badge, indicating that he’d not only been assigned to a combat unit but had actually been in combat. E-2 didn’t have a combat patch, which meant he’d never been deployed. He was what we used to call Fresh Meat.

“So where’d you see action?” I asked Spec-4.

“Iraq and Afghanistan,” replied Spec-4. “Two tours when I was active duty. That was back in ‘08 and ‘10.”

“Nice.
I was in Kuwait back in ’91 and ’92, but that was way back during Desert Shield and Desert Storm.”

Realization was dawning on me, right about then.
I’d been too absorbed in everything that was going on to notice before, but Spec-4 was a woman. Hey, I’m usually more observant than that, but full body armor, helmet and combat gear make it a little tough to tell sometimes. She smiled at me and nodded her approval. I couldn’t help but notice then that she had pale blue eyes about the color of glacial ice.

“What about them?” she asked, nodding at the others.

“Well, I can’t honestly say about Shu, but I know for a fact that Henderson was never in the military. I heard they wouldn’t take him. Something about a spine requirement.”

Henderson
just shot me a dirty look, but didn’t say anything. Shu chimed in about then, laconic as expected.

“Air Force.
Germany. Mid ‘90s.”

It was the first thing Shu had said since we’d left the
Justice Center. Right about then, a fresh round of gunfire erupted from Fair Grove and we all turned our attention back that way. This time, the firing was less sporadic and more concentrated. Someone was laying down some serious firepower inside the small town of Fair Grove.

“Forget
Fair Grove,” snapped Henderson. “Our assignment is to keep 65 closed. Fair Grove is the responsibility of Fair Grove P.D.”

“There’s just one problem with that,” said E-2, through clenched teeth.

“What’s that?” returned Henderson, turning to face him.

“I don’t take orders from you, asshole,” snarled E-2, anger flashing in his eyes.

E-2 got in Henderson’s face and started poking him in the chest with his finger.

“I’m in charge here,” whined
Henderson.

“Sure, you are,” said E-2 acidly,
“of them. I don’t fucking answer to you and I can’t understand why they do.”

He was gesturing at me and Shu.

“You’re a
complete moron
who couldn’t lead a fly to shit.”

“Alright, you two,” said Spec-4, breaking them apart. “Knock it off.”

“Yeah, back off
Rickie
,” I said, moving to assist Spec-4.

E-2 stormed off and took his position back beside the Humvee.
Henderson just glared at me and stomped off, muttering under his breath. By unspoken agreement, Spec-4 and I stood between them to prevent anything else from happening. Personally, I would have been happy to see E-2 knock the crap out of Henderson. It would serve the little jerk right, to get knocked on his butt and taught a lesson. For the moment at least, we had bigger problems to deal with. All of that gunfire couldn’t mean anything good for us.
There was a tense silence that followed for the next half hour or so. We watched the road, we watched the town and we watched each other. Henderson did his best to look tough, but none of us were impressed. He strutted around like a little banty rooster. His attempts to act tough were humorous at first, but started getting old quickly. Henderson glared daggers at all of us, when he realized that no one was taking him seriously.

At one point, I looked at Sh
u and whispered, “I swear, I’m gonna knock his damned teeth out if he doesn’t cut it out.”

Shu just shrugged and nodded in agreement.
He shot Henderson a dirty look and went back to watching the road north of us with binoculars. This went on for a few moments longer, when I felt Shu tapping me on the shoulder. I turned to look at him to find him still looking through the binoculars and pointing to the north. I could see a few dots on the horizon. They were too far away to see details but they were flying. Shu handed me the binoculars and I took a peek.

“We’ve got inbound choppers,” I said to the group.

“How many?” asked Spec-4.

“Several,” I answered.
“They’re too far away to tell.”

We watched in silence as the choppers got closer to our position.
There were several of them flying in formation. I counted six Blackhawks, four Chinooks and two Apaches. The Blackhawks are your basic utility chopper for carrying anything from supplies to troops. The Chinooks were cargo choppers and they each had a large conex box dangling below them by cables. The Apaches are gunships built solely for combat. The noise of their rotors was now so loud that we had to yell to be heard above it. They weren’t more than a hundred feet off of the ground.

“Those aren’t ours,” said Spec-4
, indicating the National Guard. “We don’t have any Chinooks or Apaches.”

They were heading almost due south from us, following the path of the highway.
They didn’t slow down and ignored us when Spec-4 tried to signal them from the radio in the Humvee. It didn’t take long before they were well past us and the sound was slowly fading away.

“Think they’
re heading for the Evac-center?” asked E-2.

“No,” I answered. “They’re heading the wrong way for the airport.
I don’t know where they’re going, but it ain’t the Evac-center.”

We didn’t see or hear any more aircraft after that.
We sat in a tense silence, nervously anticipating whatever was going to happen next. We weren’t sure what to expect, but we were pretty sure that it wasn’t going to be good. At about 0945 hours we got our first look at the “rioters.” E-2 was standing up and pointing back towards Fair Grove. They were coming our way. The video on the internet didn’t even come close to doing them justice.

“Here they come!” yelled E-2.

Even from a couple hundred yards way, we could see they weren’t right. They didn’t move right and seemed to be stumbling along. Some of them were covered in blood. They didn’t scream. They didn’t yell. They just came at us and they were faster than I thought they should be, too. The silence was really terrifying. I think I would’ve almost preferred it if they’d been screaming.

“Lock and load!
” I found myself yelling, my voice booming above the crowd.

“Hey, Grant,” snapped
Henderson. “You don’t give the orders around here. I do!”

At that point, I had reached the limit of my considerable patience with that little turd.
I turned around and worked the action on my shotgun. In one swift motion, I stuck it to Henderson’s forehead. My finger was tight on the trigger as I thumbed the safety off. Henderson’s eyes were wide-open with fright as I pressed it tight against his skull.

“Listen to me, you snot-nosed little shit,” I hissed through clenched teeth.
“This isn’t a fucking game. This is for real, and I won’t be led to the slaughter by a complete moron like you. You’ll do exactly what I say, when I say, and how I say or I swear to the Gods, I will fucking
end you
. Do you understand me?”

The color drained out of
Henderson’s face. I could tell he wanted to say something, but the look in my eyes told him he’d better think twice about it. He just swallowed hard and slowly nodded. Since he was wearing dark colored pants I couldn’t be sure, but I think he pissed himself. I swear I could smell the acrid stench of urine. I gave him a little shove with the barrel of the shotgun and he backed away from me, slowly. The shotgun never wavered from where I was aiming.

“When this is over, I’m reporting you to the Sheriff,” he said, almost under his breath.

His tone was like a child threatening to tell on an errant sibling.

“Knock yourself out, asshole.
Now everyone get to the other side of the barrier! Move!”

As everyone repositioned themselves,
Henderson began to recover some of his composure. He still reeked of urine, but at least he was moving. He went to the trunk of the Charger and got out his bullhorn. Once safely behind our makeshift barrier, he keyed up the bullhorn and shouted at the oncoming crowd now less than two hundred yards way.