Ragnarok Rising: The Crossing (The Ragnarok Rising Saga) (15 page)

I turned around to see a deer emerge into the stairwell. In a blind panic, it must have run into the building looking for a place to hide. That meant that it would be leading the dead right to us.

“Shoot it!” I snapped.

Spec-4 didn’t hesitate and put a silenced burst into the poor beast as it prepared to leap down the stairs. Blood erupted from the wounds and it let out a pitiful bleating sound. Then it turned and headed away from us, blood splashing on the walls as it went. It disappeared from our view and I immediately heard another pitiful bleating sound, followed by the violent sound of a struggle. From the hissing and snarling, I knew that the wounded deer had run into a group of the dead. I could hear the sickening sound of flesh being torn apart and the wet splash of blood hitting the floor.

“Get inside!” I hissed, trying to keep my voice low.

We all rushed inside as fast was we could move, all the while I watched the top of the stairwell for any sign of the dead. Southard and I put our weight behind pulling the door shut and it started closing agonizingly slowly. My last glimpse of the top of the stairs was mercifully clear as the door slid shut and we twisted the bolt into place. We were safely inside the bunker. For the moment, anyway.

We found Becca and the others. They were still sitting in the chow hall. No one looked any the worse for wear and Becca appeared calm and collected. I had no choice but to assume that they simply didn’t hear us calling for them to open the door. Reaching over, I checked the radio that sat beside Becca. It appeared to be in perfect working order. It was also off.

Although I couldn’t prove it, I suspected that she had turned it off on purpose. I had no way of knowing for certain but from the way that she would not meet my gaze, I had the distinct feeling that she had done it intentionally. There was no sense in screaming at her or making a scene. I just knew that there was no way I could trust her again. She was rapidly turning into a liability that we simply could not afford.

“If a man hasn't discovered something that he will die for, he isn't fit to live.”

- Unknown

I didn’t mention what I suspected about Becca to the rest of the group. We spent a quiet night inside the bunker, eating a decent meal and enjoying the relative comfort of a bed and hot shower. I took the Commanding Officer’s quarters, just so I could have a little privacy. I wanted to be alone for a while to consider our options. I was also afraid that my mood might make the others wonder what was bothering me. That was a question I really didn’t want to answer, for now.

I ate my meal in my room and cleaned my weapons. For me, cleaning my guns had always been kind of a cathartic experience. It gave my hands a task to perform that I could practically do in my sleep. The smooth working of the pieces was somehow soothing, and that was just what the doctor ordered. I needed to get my mind of the turmoil that was raging inside.

Becca was a problem that I was going to have to find a way to deal with, one way or the other. She hadn’t done anything that warranted an extreme reaction, but she was putting us in danger at every turn. I couldn’t let that behavior continue. If unchecked, it was going to get one of us killed.

I didn’t expect everyone to be a front-line combatant.
Not everyone is cut out for that kind of stress. We all had things we could contribute to the group that would help us all in one way or another. We just had to find a way for her to contribute that wouldn’t rely on her being in any kind of danger. She didn’t do well when she was in danger.

I was just putting the finishing touches on my Army Colt when I heard a knock at the door. I gave the freshly loaded cylinder a quick spin, then gently lowered the hammer. The weight of the old beauty was comforting in my hand, and I only reluctantly placed her back in her holster.

“Come in,” I said, laying the holster on the table.

Spec-4 opened the door and stepped inside, smiling as she entered.

“You alright in here?” she asked, glancing around the room.

“I’m alright,” I said, noncommittally.

She shut the door behind her and walked over to the table, taking a seat directly opposite of me. I could feel the weight of her icy-blue stare as she looked into my eyes. It has always been fascinating to me, the power that most women possess. She looked into my eyes for a few seconds and instantly knew I was holding something back.

“I know
that something is bothering you,” she said, holding my gaze.

I glanced away quickly, not knowing if she could actually read my mind or not. It was an irrational thought, but stranger things had happened. I mean, we were living in a world that had been overrun by zombies. How much stranger would it be for her to be telepathic? Then again, I really hoped she wasn’t. I had a hard enough time watching my mouth, let alone guarding my thoughts.

“I just have a few things on my mind,” I answered, still not meeting her gaze.

“Like what?”

“Plans,” I said. “Like how we’re going to defend this place once we move everyone here. Also, how we’re going to turn this place into more than just another camp. It’s going to be our sanctuary…our refuge.”

“That’s not all that’s bothering you,” she said, shaking her head.

“No,” I admitted, grudgingly. “You’re right. I just wasn’t sure if I wanted to say anything about it.”

“It’s Becca, isn’t it?”

Damn it. She was a telepath. I knew it.

“It wasn’t that hard to figure out,” she said, smiling. “What did she do? Turn off the radio?”

My mouth must have dropped open. She started laughing when she saw the look on my face. It took me a few seconds to recover my composure, which only made her laugh harder.

“How did you know that?” I asked, surprised.

“I saw you look at the radio when we came back in,” she replied. “I also tested the radios through the door before we left. It wasn’t a big leap of the imagination.”

I felt a wave of irrational relief wash over me. She really had me worried there for a second.

“So, what do we do about it?” I asked, shaking my head.

“Well,” she said, cautiously, “that’s a tough question. We don’t really have any way to prove that she did it on purpose.”

“Yeah,” I agreed. “Just my suspicions.”

“I say we just keep an eye on her,” she said, after a moment. “We’ll just make sure that she isn’t in any position to cause that kind of a problem, again.”

“Fair enough,” I said, reaching into my vest pocket and retrieving my hip-flask.

I opened it and took a pull of the rich Bu
shmills that was inside. It spread warmth throughout my body as it hit my system. I closed my eyes and released a satisfied sigh. I held it out to Spec-4 and she took it without hesitation. She took a somewhat smaller drink and returned it with a smile.

“Should it worry me that I’m starting to like that stuff?” she asked, grinning.

“It should worry you that we might run out of it,” I said, shaking my head. “If we can’t find more, my supplies will only last so long.”

“That will be a sad day,” she said,
shaking her head. “I’m sure you’ll be inconsolable.”

“Probably,” I agreed.

“We should probably get some rest,” she said, glancing at her watch. “It’s getting late and we have work to do in the morning.”

“
Good idea,” I said, capping the hip-flask. “I’d better let Elliott know, too.”

“He went to bed about an hour ago,” she answered. “Southard wasn’t far behind him. In fact, I think we’re the only ones still awake.”

There was an awkward pause that seemed to last a lifetime before she broke the silence. I think she was waiting for me to ask her to stay. Part of me wanted to, but I wouldn’t be able to look myself in the mirror let alone face Karen.

“Goodnight,” she said, softly.

She sighed and got to her feet. Instead of walking away, she came around the table and stood in front of me. I stood up and faced her. I owed her more than just an explanation. I owed her my life, several times over. We had needed to clear the air, for some time. I guess now was as good as any time. I tried to find the right words. My mind was racing with things to say, none of which would be easy.

“Look, Wylie,” she began, taking the first step. “I know you’re married and I know that we shouldn’t be together. I understand the logic of the situation. The problem is I still feel the way I feel. Logic be damned.”

“I know,” I said, struggling for the right words. “I just…:

I paused, trying to get my mind to work right.

“Wylie,” she interrupted, “I don’t care about the logical thing to do. I care about you. I want to be with you. Don’t you understand that?”

I did understand it. That was the problem. I understood it, all too well. I have been happily married for almost twenty years. I’ve never cheated on my wife, in all our time together. Now, at the end of the world, I find myself torn and tempted beyond belief. I was committed to my marriage, but I am also mortal. I could no more help being att
racted to her than I could stop the sun from coming up in the morning.

“Chrissy,” I stammered, “I don’t know what to say. I know what you’re feeling. I feel it, too. But if I was the kind of person who could break his marriage vows, would I be the kind of person you fell in love with?”

Confusion crossed her face and wrinkled her brow. She thought hard about what I had said before tears began to form at the corners of her eyes.

“No,” she whispered, looking down dejectedly. “Part of why I feel the way that I do is because of your sense of honor and duty. I can’t ask you to break those.”

Hesitantly, I reached out and wrapped my arms around her. She leaned into my chest and slipped her arms around me. I held her there for a long moment, neither of us wanting to move or to speak. I could feel the fabric of my t-shirt growing damp from what I knew had to be her tears.

“I will always be your friend,” I said, hugging her tighter. “I will laugh with you, cry with you and even
hold your hand when you’re sick, but I can’t give you more than that. I’m sorry. It wouldn’t be right. I can’t betray my family like that.”

“I know,” she said, her voice thick with emotion. “But I don’t want anyone else, either.”

“Besides that,” I countered, “I’m almost old enough to be your father.”

“I don’t care about that,” she said, not looking up.
“And if you hadn’t noticed, there aren’t exactly an abundance of men my age.”

We held each other there
for a long time. Each lost in our own thoughts. In retrospect, I shouldn’t have let her spend the night. We had spent the night together before, back before we made the run to the lake. We were both exhausted and neither of us really felt like being alone. Despite our proximity, I held to my vows. It still felt good to be together. That thought worried me, though.

11 May

When I awoke, she was already gone. I lay there for a long moment, my mind racing. I felt guilty, but also happy at the same time. I felt like we had finally reached an understanding. Acknowledging our feelings and coming to terms with our relationship was a tremendous load off of my mind. I could feel secure in my relationship with my wife and with Spec-4, as well. We knew our boundaries and could accept them.

Getting out of bed, I headed into the little bathroom for a quick shower and shave. I could already smell the breakfast cooking when I emerged from the shower, freshly shaved and with my goatee now gathered with a
hair tie. Soon it would be long enough to braid. A warrior’s braid would make a nice edition to the look I had going on. I didn’t even mind all the new scars that I had. They were the mark of a warrior.

When I entered the kitchen, I found almost everyone already there. Elliott came stumbling in, bleary eyed and half-asleep, as I was sitting down to eat. He always was difficult to wake up in the morning. Becca and the twins had prepared breakfast and I was definitely ready to eat. I ate a healthy portion of eggs, bacon and biscuits with jelly. There was even coffee. It was instant, but it was hot.

“What’s the plan for today?” asked Southard, still munching on a biscuit.