Ragnarok Rising: The Crossing (The Ragnarok Rising Saga) (13 page)

One was a Combat Infantryman’s Badge. The next was a Purple Heart. Whoever he was, he’d already seen his share of combat, long before I was even born. He also had Master Parachutist Wings or “Master Blasters” as we called them when I was in the army. Yes, this man was definitely worthy of the highest respect. He was a true warrior, in every sense of the word.

Beside him was a woman that I could only assume was his wife. She was of a similar age and held his arm as she walked. She walked slowly, but confidently. Her white hair was very carefully pulled back and covered with a scarf.
They looked comfortable together, like they had walked together like that many times before.

Behind them trailed two younger girls. They looked to be about Elliott’s age, somewhere in their late teens. They both had striking red hair and
looked to be twins. Despite the end of the world, they all looked well fed and clean. That was something that I wouldn’t have expected from survivors that hadn’t been prepared for a major catastrophe. Obviously, wherever they had been hiding had been well provisioned.

Lowering my weapon, I headed towards them. Southard and Elliott followed behind me, but continually scanned the area looking for threats. As we approached them, the older man motioned for the women to get behind him and put his hand on his pistol.

“That’s far enough,” he called out in a raspy voice.

Despite his age, his hand gripped the butt of the pistol with steady confidence. He struck me as a man who knew how to use his weapon and wasn’t afraid to do so. I could tell from the campaign ribbons that he was more than willing to put his own life on the line for others. The more I saw of him, the more respect I had for him.

“Alright, sir,” I replied. “We’re not here to hurt anyone.”

“Who are you folks?” he asked, glancing at each of us.

“My name is Wylie Grant,” I said, releasing my M-4 to hang by the strap. “I’m the Sheriff of Nathanael County.”

“
Nathanael County?” he said, shaking his head. “Aren’t you a little out of your jurisdiction?”

“I’m not sure old jurisdictions apply anymore,” I said, smiling. “We’re here scouting for a place to bring a group of survivors.”

“It’s as good a place as any,” he said, “except at night. When the sun goes down, you’d better be inside someplace safe.”

“We’ve noticed,” I agreed. “We spent the night here. I didn’t think we’d make it.”

“You’re lucky that you did,” he said, meeting my gaze. “We’ve only made it this far by not being seen. If they’d have known we were here, they would have gotten us a long time ago.”

“Why did you stay?” I asked.

“Where else would we go?” he replied. “The last news we had was that these things were everywhere.”

“They are,” I confirmed. “But we’ve never seen anything like what you have here.”

“Are you planning on leaving, then?” he asked. “Do you know of a better place?”

“Actually,” I said, “I was planning on locating the place they hide during the day and blowing it up. If we can clear them out, then we can clear this place out and bring our people here. It has everything we need.”

“Sheriff,” he said, hesitantly, “I hope I’m not making a mistake by revealing ourselves to you, but we’re almost out of food and we don’t have much prospect for finding more. I’m not as young as I used to be and my granddaughters aren’t fighters.”

“Sir,” I said, trying my best to sound genuine, “we’re not interested in hurting anyone that doesn’t try to hurt us first. You and your family are more than welcome to join us. We have food, shelter and medical supplies. We’re more than happy to share them all.”

“I’m relieved to hear you say that,” he said, taking his hand off of his pistol. “I don’t really think we could have stopped you if you weren’t. You’re heavily armed and look like you know how to fight.”

“We’ve done more than our share since all this started,” I said. “Not all of it against the dead. We’ve had to deal with hostile survivors, too. Unfortunately, not everyone out there is willing to share and help one another.”

“I can imagine,” he said, nodding. “I was hesitant about bringing my girls out here with me, but they insisted on coming. I’m glad we’re on the same side, Sheriff.”

“Call me Wylie,” I said, smiling.

“Where are my manners?” he said, shaking his head. “My name is Jefferson Rybeck. This is my wife Vivian and my granddaughters Katie and Kelsey.”

“It’s good to meet you all,” I said, nodding. “These two behind me are Deputy Chuck Southard and the other is my oldest son, Elliott.”

They both waved and smiled. I noticed that they both kept their eyes on the surrounding area and their weapons ready.

“If you want to come with us,” I said, “I’ll introduce you to the rest of our group.”

We all headed back towards the Humvees, together. The twins were talking quietly amongst themselves, but I could tell by the tone that they were excited. Vivian placed her hand on my arm and smiled at me.

“Thank you so much, Sheriff,” she said. “I don’t know what we’d have done if you hadn’t come along when you did.”

“We heard your vehicles yesterday,” said Jefferson. “We would have come out to see you then, but it was so close to sundown that we stayed inside and hoped that you’d still be here.”

“You made the right call,” I said. “There wasn’t any reason to put yourselves in harm’s way if you didn’t have to. I’m glad we got the chance to meet up, though.”

“Your arrival is the answer to our prayers,” said Vivian.

“I’m glad we could help,” I replied, smiling. “
We didn’t expect to find any survivors. I’m glad that we did. You folks will be a welcome addition to our group.”

“I’m not sure what we have to offer,” said
Jefferson. “Viv and I aren’t up to much heavy labor and the girls are musicians, not soldiers.”

“Well, Mr. Rybeck,” I said, “I’m sure you’ll all be a bigger help than you imagine. Both of you can share your knowledge and skills. I can see by your CIB
[13]
that you’re no stranger to combat. You might not be up for fighting now, but you can help us teach the younger ones. I’m sure you both have skills we could use. As for the girls, music is a big part of living. Without music, it wouldn’t be much of a life. I’m sure that there are a lot of things they can help with, too.”

“Please, call me Jeff,” he replied. “Mr. Rybeck was my father.”

I smiled at the old joke. I took his offered hand and shook it, happily.

“Jeff, it’s an honor to meet you,” I said. “Welcome to the group.”

As we approached the Humvees, Spec-4 and Becca climbed out to meet us, looking surprised at the new arrivals. Spec-4 looked at me and shook her head.

“This is Chrissy Wilder,” I said, pointing. “And this is Officer Becca Hargrove. They’re the rest of our team. You’ll meet the others when we get them all here.”

After the introductions were made, I started shuffling people into the vehicles. Southard waited until everyone else was inside and came over to me.

“Are you sure about this?” he asked. “We don’t even know them.”

“I’m sure,” I said. “I just have a good feeling about them. Besides, did you see that row of ribbons on Jeff’s hat? He’s got a freaking Silver Star and two Bronze Stars. The guy’s a war hero.”

“I saw them,” replied Southard. “He’s also got a Normandy Campaign Ribbon. He hit the beach on D-day.”

“They’re welcome in the group if for no other reason than that,” I said, shaking my head. “He’s earned our respect.”

“Fair enough,” he agreed, smiling. “Just making sure you knew what you were doing. So
, what now?”

“We get them all inside the bunker and we go
Stalker
hunting,” I said. “I want to blow that cave and see if they return tonight.”

“You really think that all of them will be in the cave?” he asked. “Remember there were two in the bathroom, yesterday.”

“I remember,” I said. “I’m pretty sure that the cave will have the majority of them. I figure that we’ll find stragglers when we clear the rest of the buildings.”

“So we blow the cave and pull back to the bunker to wait?” he asked.

“That’s the plan, at the moment,” I said. “Let’s get moving.”

Climbing back into our Humvees, we headed back across the bridge. I pulled up to the cache building and helped our new friends out of the vehicles. Then we escorted them down into the cache. Once we were all inside, I
headed into the storage lockers and took out enough plastic explosives and detonators to level a small mountain.

The others were gathered in the chow hall and Becca was busying herself by making food for our new friends. I slid into a
chair and motioned for everyone to have a seat. I wanted to get everyone on the same page before we proceeded. With the arrival of Jeff and his family, I had to move my plans around a bit.

“I want Becca and Southard to stay down here with Jeff and his family,” I said. “Elliott, Wilder and I will go plant the charges on the cave.”

“I can handle a rifle, son,” said Jeff. “Don’t short yourself to cover us. Give me a rifle and I can help protect your place. I’ve lived near this park for thirty years and never knew this place was here.”

I spent a few minutes explaining about the POMCUS Cache and bringing Jeff up to speed on our situation. I wasn’t sure if he would know how to use an M-4 or not, so I just asked him.

“Jeff, do you know how to handle a modern rifle?” I asked. “No offense, but they’ve changed a bit since D-day.”

“I joined the Army in 1942 at the age of 16,” he replied. “I lied about my age to get in. I just wanted to serve my country. Once I was in, though, they didn’t much care how old I was. I stayed in until my retirement in 1972. I retired as Command Sergeant Major of the
1
st
Infantry Division.”

“Holy shit!”
snapped Southard. “Wylie, I think he can handle an M-4.”

“I’ve qualified on the M-16,” said Jeff. “The M-4 is basically the same weapon. It has a few new bells and whistles, but from what I can see it operates the same.”

“Pretty much,” I agreed. “We’ll get you equipped and loaded, Sar-Major.”

Jeff just smiled to hear his old title. He looked ten years younger than when we first met. I had no doubt at all that Jeff would be worth his weight in gold before we were finished rebuilding.
I was glad to see him joining in. I wanted him to feel useful. I didn’t want him to think we didn’t value him because of his age. His experience was going to be a major asset.

Spec-4 brought the Sar-Major an M-4 and several magazines for it. She even brought him more ammo for his .45. Once we had them settled in, I broke out some of the communications gear. Southard and Spec-4 set several units to the same frequency and gave one to Jeff. Elliott, Southard, Spec-4 and I each clipped one to our interceptor vest. A quick radio check and we were all ready to go.

“Alright,” I said, “it’s time to go hunting. I want to blow that cave and get back inside here for the night. We’ll plan more when we get back.”

Spec-4, Southard, Elliott and I headed out the door and up the stairs. Once we reached the top, we headed for one of the Humvees.
I drove past the hatching pools for the trout hatchery. I could see where the water had been higher, flooding the pens and allowing the fish to escape. I was glad that it had, because a few thousand dead fish rotting in the sun would drive us out of this valley faster than the undead.

I drove across a one lane bridge and
parked near an open pavilion with picnic tables beneath it. Exiting the vehicle, we started a gear check. We’d all taken the time to replenish our ammo supplies from the cache and even add a few new pieces of gear. We’d all snagged a Camel Back water bladder for our packs.

Even filled with water, it added only a small amount to our load. To me, it was worth the extra weight. This kept the mouthpiece right next to you and you didn’t need to release your weapon to get a drink. That was definitely to our advantage since we’d be hiking on a trail and had to remain vigilant of our surroundings at all times. Just because the
Stalkers
couldn’t come out in the light of day didn’t mean that there weren’t any other undead out there. It was only smart to assume the worst and hope for the best.

Shouldering our packs, we headed up the trail and into the woods. The sun wasn’t quite at its zenith, so I knew we had plenty of time until sundown. Pulling my hat down over my eyes and adjusting my sunglasses, I took the point and headed up the trail. I could tell by the sweat that was already beginning to run down my back that it was going to be a hot day. We were going to have to stay hydrated or face the possibility of heat exhaustion. The last thing we needed was a heat-related injury in the middle of all of this.

By unspoken agreement, we split our group tactically. Every other person alternated the direction of their weapons. I could shoot with either hand, so I switched over to the left-hand carry. Elliott was right behind me with his weapon in his right. Third in the group was Spec-4 with her own weapon in her left hand. Southard brought up the rear and watched our backs.

There still wasn’t any sign of small game or deer. The woods were eerily quiet and we marched in silence. The calm was only broken by the crunch of our boots on the rocks and the jostling of our equipment. I kept our pace slow and even so no one would be tired out too quickly. Spec-4 and Southard were in better shape than I was, but Elliott had never been on a military style march. He was in great shape for his age, but he’d never gone hiking with a full rucksack and weapon before. Besides that, I wasn’t exactly twenty
years old anymore, either.