Ragnarok Rising: The Crossing (The Ragnarok Rising Saga) (16 page)

“
I thought we’d clear a couple of the buildings and look for supplies we might be able to use,” I replied. “If we can secure the apartment buildings, we’ll have plenty of room for everyone to live when we get them all here.”

“A mass exodus from the Underground will take some doing,” said Spec-4, refilling my coffee cup with an urn.

“I don’t think it will be as tough as you think,” I replied. “We have enough truck drivers to handle several semi-trucks full of equipment and supplies. That only leaves the people to move. We have enough vehicles that we should be able to do it in one trip.”

“That will be one hell of a convoy,” said Southard, grinning. “I’m not looking forward to riding herd on that many vehicles.”

“We already have the route established,” I said, sipping my coffee. “We might have to rethink the part that goes through Strafford and along the outer road. There are other back roads that will make it to that overpass over the interstate.”

“That shouldn’t be too difficult,” said Southard. “I know those roads pretty well. If they’re as clear as the other back roads, we shouldn’t have too many problems getting everyone here.”

“Alright, then,” I said, standing up. “Let’s go clear some buildings.”

Becca,
Jeff, Vivian and the twins stayed behind in the bunker. We’d talked about that over breakfast. They wouldn’t be going out on any runs, any time soon. Jeff now had the radio and knew how to use it. Becca was going to help with the running of the facility, not be in any capacity where she could put us in danger. Elliott, Spec-4, Southard and I headed out to begin checking buildings.

We opened the door to the stairs very carefully. I didn’t want to open it to find a group of the dead waiting for us. With no one to draw them down, there was no reason for them to come down the stairs. They didn’t seem to do well with stairs. As long as nothing attracted them, they seemed to avoid any type of incline. Maybe it was because of their unstable walking. Whatever the reason, it kept them from approaching certain types of obstacles.

I breathed a sigh of relief when the stairwell was clear. Jeff locked the door behind us and we headed up the stairs as quietly as possible. I could still see the bloody spot on the wall left by the deer. I paused at the top of the stairs to listen for sounds of movement. Hearing nothing, we filed out and swept the small building. Seconds later, it was clear and we met in the hallway.

“I figured we’d at least find one or two stragglers,” said Southard, shrugging his shoulders.

“I did too,” agreed Spec-4. “There’s no sign of the dead or the deer carcass. It’s not like them to carry off the bones.”

We stepped outside into the daylight and swept the immediate area. Elliott and I went to the right while Spec-4 and Southard went to the left. We circled the entire building and met at the back of the building.

“This is strange,” I muttered as we lowered our weapons. “I don’t see a damned thing.”

“It’s gonna get stranger,” said Southard. “Remember that body of the
Stalker
that we dumped behind the building?”

“Yeah,” I replied, curiously.

“It’s gone,” he stated. “The entire fucking thing is gone.”

“What
?” I asked, surprised.

“He’s right,” said Spec-4. “I can see the impression in the grass where it was, but there’s not a single piece of it left.”

“Maybe the
Stalkers
carry off their dead,” suggested Elliott.

“Makes about as much sense as anything I can think of,” added Southard. “It would certainly explain all of the bones we saw at the entrance to the cave.”

“That means we didn’t get them all,” I said. “There’s another cave or building where they’re hiding out.”

“Then we’d better pay close attention when we sweep thes
e buildings,” I said. “I don’t want to walk into a dark room full of
Stalkers
.”

“Are we still planning on bringing the others here with
Stalkers
still in the area?” asked Spec-4.

“I don’t see that we have much choice,” I replied. “We can all crowd into the bunker for a while. Once we have everyone here, we can clear and secure the entire park.”

“Especially once we bring out those armored vehicles,” said Southard. “The Strykers’ alone, pack enough firepower to clear any group of the dead we come across.”

“So why don’t we just go back for the others, now?” asked Elliott. “Why risk clearing the buildings with just us here?”

“He’s got a point,” said Spec-4.

“I want to get a good look around before we commit to brin
ging in everyone,” I explained. “If these buildings aren’t what we need, we can make other plans. I want to know this is where we’re going to be staying before we move everyone here.”

“Fair enough,” said Southard.

Our first stop was the Visitor’s Center. The front doors were intact, but unlocked. Switching on our tactical lights, we slipped inside and swept down the aisles in the small store. The coolers still had supplies in them, but only the bottled water and soda would be usable. The refrigerated foods were long-since spoiled. In less than two minutes, we had cleared the building completely.

Pausing long enough to grab an energy drink each, we headed back out into the daylight. I took a piece of twine out of my back
pack and tied the doors shut with it. It wouldn’t stop any of the undead from going in, but it would let us know if anything went inside. That would let us know if the building was still clear or not.

We cleared the exterior bathrooms in seconds. I marked them as cleared by shutting a piece of paper in the door. If anyone opened it, the paper would fall out and we’
d know if anyone or anything had opened it. It wasn’t foolproof, but it would outsmart even the most intelligent of the undead. At least, I hoped it would. The
Stalkers
were showing signs of intelligence, but it was predator level. Not problem solving intelligence. If they got that smart, we were in a lot of trouble.

We spent the next couple of hours, clearing buildings along the main road towards the cabins. I wanted to clear the cabins, but decided to leave the larger apartment buildings for when we had more people. It would take one team a couple of days to clear them by themselves. I didn’t want to spend that kind of time on this project. In fact, I planned on returning to the Underground to begin relocation first thing in the morning.

After we finished clearing the last cabin, we all gathered along the edge of the water. I wanted to see how high the water was and how fast it was moving. I wasn’t disappointed. The river was nearly ten feet above its normal level and the water was flowing very swiftly. I could see the occasional tree swept by in the current, only to disappear quickly as the river dragged it farther downstream.

Elliott and I walked a little further down towards the old wooden bridge to look at the boat ramp. That’s when I noticed something out of place. There in the mud along the edge of the
river was the fresh impression of the hull of a boat. I could tell by the condition of the mud and the amount of water in the impression that it was recent. I would guess that it was less than a day old.

“Holy shit,” I said, kneeling down beside the impression.

“What is it, dad?” asked Elliott.

“Someone brought a boat in here,” I said, pointing at the track. “Looks fresh, too.”

I could see boot prints, as well. It looked like two people had exited the boat. They both wore boots that were size nine and a half or ten. I would guess that they weighed around 200 pounds. Either they were men or very big women. From the shape of the tracks, I would say they were walking on the way in. The impressions leading back to the boat seemed to indicate that they were running. Most of the weight was on the toes and the impressions were smeared.

“I think they must have
come in the night,” I said. “For one thing, we didn’t hear them yesterday. For another, they left in a hell of a hurry. I’d guess that the
Stalkers
chased them out.”

“DAD!” screamed Elliott.

I turned to look where he was pointing and saw four
Sprinters
running right at Southard and Spec-4. They had come from out of the trees and were almost on top of them before they even saw them coming. They were already attacking them before I could even scream a warning.

The first one slammed into Southard. Chuck reacted like a pro, grabbing the arm and twisting it around. He then executed a perfect toss, throwing the
Sprinter
off into the churning water. It disappeared beneath the muddy water and didn’t resurface. The next one grabbed for Spec-4, but she side-stepped and drove the butt of her rifle into it’s face. It fell over backwards, both from the blow and from its own momentum.

The third
Sprinter
took Southard to the ground in a tangle of arms and legs. They rolled on the ground with Southard managing to keep the snapping jaws away from him, but that wouldn’t last forever. Spec-4 was dragged to the ground by the last of the
Sprinters
and they tumbled to the edge of the embankment, right above the churning water.

Elliott and I broke into a sprint, heading in to help. We were almost
thirty yards way. The
Sprinter
that Spec-4 had hit with her rifle was getting up and I snap fired a shot as I ran. My first shot hit it in the left shoulder, which only managed to bring it’s attention on me. My second shot struck it in the forehead, dropping it instantly.

Elliott was more than twenty years younger than me and in much better shape. He outdistanced me without much effort. Since both Southard and Spec-4 w
ere tangled up with the two dead, we couldn’t risk shooting them. I watched as Elliott adjusted his course and drove his shoulder into the side of the
Sprinter
that was on top of Spec-4. The force of the blow knocked the creature off of her, but it dragged Elliott off of the embankment and into the dark water below.

“NO!” I screamed as I closed the distance.

I started to dive into the water after him, when Southard grabbed me from behind and pulled me back.

“Don’t do it, Wylie!” he shouted. “You won’t make it.”

“Elliott!” I bellowed, struggling to pull away from him.

Spec-4 got to her feet and helped hold me back.

“Wylie,” she said, tears streaming down her face, “you’re no good to him if you drown.”

“I’ve got to find him!” I screamed, tears stinging my eyes. “I’ve got to find him.”

The second time I said it, it came out almost as a whisper.

“We’ll go after him,” said Spec-4. “We just can’t dive in the water. We’ll drown.”

I looked around quickly and spotted a trailer holding canoes. I shrugged loose from their grip and headed for the trailer. In a rack on the side was a cargo box containing paddles and life jackets. I grabbed two of each and tossed them into a canoe. Then I started dragging it towards the boat ramp.

Southard came over and grabbed the other end of the canoe. Together, we picked it up and headed for the ramp as quickly as we could go. I sat it in the edge of the water and took off my pack. Tossing it into the center of the canoe, I got ready to shove off.

“I’m going with you,” said Spec-4.

“Get in,” I said and started shoving the canoe out into the rapidly moving water.

She climbed into the front of the canoe and grabbed a paddle. Seconds later, I shoved it out into the water and climbed into the back. Grabbing a paddle, we headed into the center of the river and angled downstream. I knew our best chance in finding Elliott alive lay in getting him out of the water as quickly as possible. He was wearing body armor, a rucksack and carrying weapons. He had enough gear on him to keep him from floating.

Despite the knowledge that the odds were against him surviving in a river this bad, I would not rest until I found my son. I refused to believe that we would come all this way through an army of the dead and against all the odds, only to lose him to a fucking river. I would not let that happen.

“Southard to Grant,” I heard my radio report.

“Go ahead,” I replied, still scanning the water ahead of us.

“What do you want me to do?” he asked.

“Get your ass back to the bunker and button down,” I replied. “We’ll contact you by radio when we find him.”

“How long are you going to search?” he asked.

“Until I find him,” I replied. “No matter how long it takes.”

“Understood,” he replied. “I’m heading back now, in case there are more zombies around here.”

“Copy that,” I replied. “Grant out.”

“We’ll find him,” soothed Spec-4. “Don’t worry. He’s your son. I’m sure he’s just as hard to kill as you are.”

“I hope so,” I whispered.
“All-father please let that be so.”

We followed the river past the highway bridge and down past a public fishing area. Despite the current, it took us almost thirty minutes to reach the first big bend in the river. At the bend was a gravel bar that caused the water to eddy and pool up along one side of the bar. I angled the canoe and headed for it.