Ragnarok Rising: The Crossing (The Ragnarok Rising Saga) (2 page)

First Sergeant Gregory and I took a long hard look at our dwindling supplies. In the fighting over the last few weeks, we’d lost the bulk of our ammunition, fuel and military grade vehicles. If we couldn’t find more Humvees, we were going to have to consider modifying civilian trucks and SUV’s to fit our needs. It wasn’t something I was particularly looki
ng forward to, since I’d come to rely on our Humvees for defense and transportation. Besides that, I wasn’t sure we could bring a standard vehicle up to that level of protection.

We still had four Hemmitts
[2]
, but they were best suited for big jobs. They guzzled too much fuel to use them for scouting missions. Even the ones that Bowman had modified and nicknamed the “Honey Badgers” weren’t much good for anything but convoys and large supply runs. They were just too big to use for patrols and foraging runs. We only had three Humvees left after the fighting, and only one of them was in decent shape.

I sat contemplating our next move over a plate of what looked to be cheeseburger mac
aroni with potatoes. I was sipping my second cup of coffee when First Sergeant Gregory came over and sat down across from me. Despite his injuries, he was in remarkably good shape. He was still walking with a pronounced limp, but he was mobile. Although, it was going to be a while before he was back to
prowling and growling
with the grunts.

“Lookin’ good, Top
[3]
,” I said, lifting my cup to him.

“Up yours
,” he replied, smiling. “You don’t look so hot yourself, there, Sheriff.”

“What’s the Sit/Rep
[4]
?” I asked, sipping the strong black liquid.

“Well, it damned sure ain’t good,” he said, shaking his head
and glancing at the clipboard in his hand. “Our ammo supply is for shit, right now. We’re in bad shape across the board on pretty much every caliber.”

I just nodded and gave him a non-committal grunt.

“Our fuel situation ain’t much better,” added Gunny, sliding into a chair. “We’ve got enough for about two months of sustained ops, assuming we keep scrounging for gas everywhere we go.”

“That’s the plan,” I said, shoving a forkful of food into my mouth.

Before he could say anything else, Karen walked up to us and handed them both a big plate of food and a cup of coffee.

“Thank you, Mrs. Grant,”
the First Sergeant said, formally.

“You can call me Karen,” she said, smiling. “There’s no need for formalities.”

“Understood, ma’am,” he said.

Three decades of military training wouldn
’t be undone that easily. Karen knew it wouldn’t be any easier to break Gunny or the Top of their military habits than it was to break me of mine. The First Sergeant waited for her to walk away before resuming our conversation. Old habits were hard to break, and he wasn’t in the habit of discussing Op/Sec
[5]
in front of civilians Even if it was my wife.

“We’re going to have to find a new source of supplies or it’s going to get ugly long before winter,” he said, lowering his voice. “The food will keep, so long as we can keep the generators going. When they go, we’re back to
MREs and protein bars.”

“We’re in good shape on the propane,” I said through a mouthful of food. “We’ve got a pretty good supply set back.”

“Well, propane isn’t one of the things everyone ran for when the shit hit the fan,” said Top, sipping his coffee.

“Plenty of people grabbed the little propane cylinders,” I replied, “but the big tanks were largely ignored.”

“That’s good news for us,” he said, digging into his food. “At least the food will keep.”

“That only leaves us with the fuel and ammo problems,” I said, glancing at his clipboard. “Most of the places I knew about with large ammo stockpiles were either raided or destroyed. Our options are pretty thin, right now.”

“There is one other option we haven’t discussed,” said the First Sergeant, meeting my gaze.

“What’s that?” I asked.

“The POMCUS
[6]
cache,” he said.

That got my undivided attention. I had completely forgotten that he
had mentioned that before. We had so much to deal with at the time, that I had put it out of my mind. If we could get to a POMCUS cache, we would have more than enough supplies to keep us in operation for a good, long time. Possibly even for years, depending on how much of the ammo we used to defend ourselves.

“How far away is it?” I asked, barely containing my excitement.

“Somewhere outside a little town called Lebanon,” he replied. “I’m not sure how far away that is, but I know it’s not close.”

“It's a
round fifty miles,” I said. “An hour’s drive, at the most.”

“It
was
an hour’s drive,” countered Gunny, meeting my gaze. “That’s fifty miles of the dead, clogged roads and who knows what else. There might even be unfriendly survivors between here and there.”

“You have a good point,” I said, shaking my head.

“I suggest a reconnaissance in force,” he replied. “Take a fire team and secure the site. Once it’s secured, you can use the vehicles inside it to bring gear back to us.”

“I’m not sure that’s the best option,” I said, tapping the clipboard. “You and I both know it’s just a matter of time before we have to abandon this place. We can’t sustain this. We need land for crops if we’re going to do this long-term.”

“We’ve got to start planning for the long haul,” he agreed. “There isn’t enough of the government left to come back for us. We need to plan on becoming self-reliant. Eventually, we’ll run out of scavenged canned goods and fuel.”

“We know that
Bill Winston can distill alcohol,” I said. “His moonshine is so strong it will eat the paint off a Humvee.”

Gunny
chuckled and nodded as he began eating his own food.

“We can turn that shit into fuel,” I said. “It
won’t be as efficient, but it'll run an engine.”

“We can always make our own bio-diesel,” he said, swallowing a mouthful of food.

“Ok,” I replied. “So fuel might not be our biggest concern. That still leaves us with a sustainable food problem.”

“What abo
ut relocating to the POMCUS?” asked Gunny, brightening.

“Depends on where it is,” I countered. “If it’s in an area that’s crawling with the dead, we might have a fight on our hands just getting to it.”

“True,” said Top, shoveling more food in his mouth.

“What if the cache has been compromised by other survivors?” I asked, suddenly concerned.

“Not much chance of that,” he said, meeting my gaze. “I toured some of them in Germany back in the nineties. They hid the damned things pretty well. You would never know they were there if you didn’t know what to look for.”

“I hope you’re right,” I replied. “We need that gear.”

“The only way we’re going to know for sure is to go there,” he said, shrugging.

“That’s our next priority,” I said, wiping my mouth. “We need to plan a run. The longer we wait, the more desperate we’ll be for the gear.”

“I’ll get my map and the directions to the cache,” he said. “Right after I finish chow.”

“I’ll start rounding up my team,” I said, standing up
.

I grabbed my weapon and shouldered it, then headed off.
Taking my empty plate, I walked towards the area where they did the dishes. I saw Karen looking my way and shaking her head. She knew the look on my face meant I was planning something. She headed towards me and met me by the sinks.

“You’re going back out there, aren’t you?” she said, already knowing the answer.

“We’ve got a lead on supplies,” I said, taking her hand. “We’re getting to a critical point.”

“I understand,” she said, shaking her head. “I just don’t have to like it.”

“I know, babe,” I replied, pulling her into my arms. “It’ll be alright. We need the supplies. Besides, if this works out we might be relocating
all
of us. We can’t stay here forever.”

“I thought this place was secure?” she asked, suddenly concerned.

“It is,” I said, trying to sound calm. “At least as secure as we can make it. That’s not the problem. The problem is long-term survivability. We can’t grow food here. That’s a major problem.”

“Just be careful,” she said, laying her head against my chest.

“I will, babe,” I replied, stroking her hair. “I promise.”

After a few minutes spent holding her, I slipped away and headed off to find my crew of eight balls. I decided to check in at the Hive and try to locate them from there.
On the way there I ran into my oldest son, Elliott. He fell into step beside me, keeping his M-4 slung across his chest in a ready position. We’d learned the hard way not to let our guard down, even inside the Underground.

“What’s going on, dad?” he asked, matching my pace.

“Putting together another run,” I said, smiling at him. “Want to go with me?”

“Really?” he asked, excited. “Are you serious?”

“Completely,” I said. “You’re ready.”

“What about mom?”

“I’ll break the news to her,” I said, reassuringly. “She’ll take it better from me.”

“She’s not going to like it,” he said, grinning at me.

“Not one bit,” I agreed. “But we all have to do our part, now. She’ll understand.”

When we reached the Hive, I found Spec-4 sitting on the bench by the front door. She smiled when she saw us and stood up. She was already wearing her body armor and had her weapon next to her.

“Going somewhere?” I asked, gesturing at her armor.

“I was going to take a shift on gate duty,” she replied. “Why?”

“We’re going on a run,” answered Elliott. “Are you in?”

“Absolutely,” she said, grinning. “When do we leave?”

“Probably not until morning,” I replied. “We might be gone for a few days.”

“Where are we heading?” she asked.

“We’re going to try to find a POMCUS cache,” I said, smiling. “There should be enough supplies in it to keep us going for a long time.”

“Do you know how to find one?” she asked, looking skeptical.

“First Sergeant Gregory does,” I replied. “He’s going to give me the details. I want to get my team together and brief them.”

“Who are you taking?” asked
Spec-4.

“Well,” I said, “I thought I’d take you,
Elliott and Southard. That’s a pretty well rounded team. We should be able to cover most of the bases. Besides, any more than that and we won’t all fit in the Humvee.”

“Southard'
s on perimeter duty,” said Spec-4. “He should be back inside in a little while.”

“When he gets inside,” I said, “I want everyone in the big briefing room in the Hive.”

“Gotcha, boss,” said Spec-4, chuckling.

Half an hour later, we had all
assembled in the briefing room. Gunny, First Sergeant Gregory and McDonald (the other surviving Ranger) were already there. They were putting their heads together over the map and talking quietly. Southard was still wearing his armor and gear from his patrol, but was already eating an MRE and guzzling water from a canteen. Elliott was sitting quietly while Spec-4 checked over her weapons.

I joined the
group at the front of the room and leaned in to see what they were looking at. It was a military map of southwest Missouri, featuring everything from Fort Leonard Wood south to the Oklahoma border. It was very detailed, listing things no road atlas would ever cover. Things like fresh water sources, communications relays and missile silos. There were more of them in the area then I had suspected. Then again, I guess that’s the point of hidden missile silos.

They were concentrating on an area of the map that had been marked in red. The nearest marked town was
Lebanon and I could see the blue line that could only be the Niangua River. The mark indicating the POMCUS cache was right next to it.

“I know that area,” I said. “That’s right near
Bennett Springs State Park. I trout fish there every season.”

“Then you shouldn’t have too much trouble finding the cache,” said the First Sergeant. “It seems to indicate that it’s in a park.”

“Makes perfect sense,” I said. “That’s a great place to hide something like that. They can close the park and keep people out of it with no other explanation than park maintenance. When did they put it in?”

“I don’t know,” said
Top, “but it looks like it’s been there a while. It’s been maintained, but I would guess it was built some time during the Viet Nam era.”

“How recent are the supplies?” I asked.

“According to the Intel weenie that briefed us,” said McDonald, “it was kept current. There’s even supposed to be satellite uplink gear in there.”

“Not that it will do us any good,” said
Top. “There isn’t anyone left to maintain the birds in orbit.”