Ragnarok Rising: The Crossing (The Ragnarok Rising Saga) (22 page)

"The King wants to see you both," said one with a double-barrel
ed shotgun pointed at me.

"So," I said, glaring at them both.

"Now!" said the other one, leveling a bolt-action deer rifle at my face.

Neither of them appeared to have any training whatsoever. From the condition of the weapons, their appearance and their bully-like attitude, I would have figured them for just a
couple of local tough-guy wannabe’s who used the end of the world as an excuse to become a pair of thugs. I'd seen tougher guys than this, many times before. They were fooling themselves if they thought I was impressed. Then again, they did have guns pointed at me so I decided I'd go along with them. For now, anyway.

"You, too," demanded the shit-head with the shotgun, gesturing at Spec-4.

"If you want me to get dressed, then you'll have to turn around," said Spec-4.

"You heard the lady," I said, slipping my boots on and standing up. "Show her some respect."

"Show me some of them titties," said shotgun-shithead.

A new
nickname just finalized in my head. These two would now be shotgun-shithead and the dolt. Dolt for the bolt-action he was carrying.

"Look, shithead," I said, tensing for a fight. "Either back out of here while she gets dressed…"

"Or you'll what?" demanded shithead, turning towards me.

I stepped forward
quickly and grabbed the end of his weapon before he could point it at me. With a twist, I yanked it out of his hands before he could fire and drove my free hand into his face. He went sprawling back out into the hallway and fell on his ass. Blood was pouring freely from his broken nose and mangled lips.

The Dolt tried to
react, but I was faster. Spinning the shotgun around, I snapped it against my shoulder and stuck the barrel against his face. He froze in place as I brought both hammers back on the shotgun with a loud double
click.
Spec-4 dropped the blanket and grabbed the rifle from his trembling hands. Out of the corner of my eye, I could see her. She was naked and taking a combat stance.

With no pretense at modestly, she quickly checked the weapon and snapped the bolt open. The look of disgust on her face told me more than I needed to know. What she said next confirmed the feeling in the pit of my stomach.

"The stupid thing's empty," she said, tossing it onto the bed.

I gave a small shrug and pulled both triggers on the old
double barrel. With a click that was nearly deafening in the small cabin, I dropped both hammers onto empty chambers. The look of relief that washed over Dolt's face told me he wasn't sure if Shithead had actually unloaded his or not. The acrid stench of urine suddenly filled the room. Dolt had pissed himself.

The sound of applause from the hallway shattered the silence as the King stepped through the door. Two guards stood behind him, weapons at the ready.

"Well done," he said, still clapping. "You're better than I expected you to be. Don't make any sudden moves, though. The men behind me are a little jumpy and their weapons
are
loaded, I can promise you."

Dolt suddenly looked a little
surer of himself as he snatched the shotgun out of my hands. Breaking it down, he inserted two rounds that he snatched from Shithead’s pocket. I recognized the shell casing, instantly. It was a number eight shot. It was just birdshot. It might not kill me, but it damned sure wouldn't do me any good, either. I might survive it but at this range, it might take my head off, too. No sense pushing my luck.

"You're lucky I don't just kill you," snarled Dolt.

"That might be a bit scarier coming from someone who wasn’t covered in their own piss," I snapped back, just waiting for him to try.

"Boys," snapped the King, stepping between us. "If either of you do anything stupid, I'll have you shot. That goes for you too, Carl."

Dolt seemed surprised by the threat, but didn't argue. Instead, he lowered the shotgun and took a few steps back away from me.

"Why don't we have some breakfast," said the King. "Carl, why don't you go clean yourself up
. Have the Doc take a look at Jimmy. I think his nose is broken."

With that, the Dolt gathered up Shithead and they headed off down the hallway.
We all stood there a moment, no one speaking. The King handed Spec-4 her clothes. She took them and turned away from us. While she dressed, the King gave her one lusty glance and turned back to me.

"You fight pretty damned
good for a cop," he said. "Your badge says Sheriff on it. Hers says Deputy. You're a long fuckin' way from Nathanael County, Sheriff."

"Badges don't mean much, anymore," I said. "I can't really say that there is a
Nathanael County left. Just a few survivors and a lot of the dead."

"The dead are everywhere," he replied, tossing me my badge. "The Gates of Hel are open and the dead have returned. Ragnarok is upon us."

"So, are you planning on fighting or just hiding?" I asked.

"I'll go where the dreams tell me to go," he replied. "The All-father has plans in motion. I just don't know what they are yet."

I was surprised that he would mention dreams. I was curious if he had been having the same kind of dreams that I've been having since all of this began. I couldn't help but wonder if he was right. If this really was Ragnarok, then was it too much to think that the
Einherjar
were real? Maybe there was a reason why we ended up at the Lake. Now, I just had to survive this
test
of his to find out.

With Spec-4 dressed, we all proceeded down the hallway to the main cabin. There were two large tables set up outside on the deck.
On the table was as close to a feast as we were likely to find in this world gone mad. I could see roasted fish, dishes of rice and oatmeal, bowls full of berries and apples, plates with sliced Spam on it and even a large platter of what I was fairly certain were powdered eggs. There were also large ceramic cups of steaming coffee.

The King directed us to seats and he took one at the end of the table. His chair looked to be much more comfortable than
ours were. They escorted Elliott out from another part of the ship, and gestured for him to take an empty seat. His face was bruised and his arm was in a sling, but he looked healthy. One eye was puffy and swollen but he smiled when he saw me.

"Dad!" he almost shouted. "I didn't think I'd ever see you, again!"

"I told you that I wouldn't let anything happen to you," I replied, wanting to reach out and hug him.

"They wanted to know all about us," he said, glaring at the King. "I didn't tell them anything."

"You're definitely your father's son," said Spec-4, smiling.

"I'm glad you're alright," he said to her, grinning through swollen lips.

"I am, thanks to you," replied Spec-4. "You saved my life."

Elliott just blushed and smiled broadly, pleased with her praise.

"Are
you
alright?" I asked, reaching over and grabbing his hand.

"I'm
OK," he replied. "I think I dislocated my shoulder when I took that tumble down the river. The rest is just a few bruises and cuts. Nothing that won't heal."

"That's my boy," I said, smiling proudly.

"You see," announced the King, triumphantly, "we took good care of your boy, just like I promised. Now, eat! We need to get started before the sun rises."

He began ladling large portions of food onto his plate and gestured for us to follow suit. Elliott grabbed some of the dubious eggs and two hunks of the Spam. Spec-4 took some rice and an apple. I filled a bowl with oatmeal and blueberries. I didn't want to be too full to be able to fight, just in case this challenge called for it. I had a bad feeling that it did.

Elliott, Spec-4 and I all paused while I offered a blessing to the Gods before we took our meal. We joined hands as I began to recite a morning blot
[16]
. The King had no such problems and began eating immediately.

Although I didn't have the time or the things I needed for a proper one,
I felt it required more than just a simple prayer of thanks today. I wanted not only to be thankful, but for the Gods to watch over us and help us survive this challenge, whatever it was. Releasing their hands, I held my mug of coffee up as I began my prayer.

"Great Gods of Asgard," I began. "I arise today, awakened by the fire of your radiant sun. Devine is the life which flows within me and through me. Strengthen now my spirit, so
that I may use this day wisely. With Nobility, Honor and Prosperity. As my deeds reflect my worthiness, so may they likewise serve to inspire my kinsmen. Guide us in our tasks and see us safely back to our hearth."

Even the King stopped eating and listened as I spoke. The sun was still below the horizon, but the false light of predawn was peeking through the darkness to bring a sliver
of purple to the sky. Somewhere in the distance, I heard the cawing of a raven. It was quickly answered by the call of another, somewhere else in the darkness.

I finished by raising the coffee to my lips and
taking a drink, feeling the warmth spread throughout my body. Then I handed it to Spec-4. Although confused, she took the offered cup and drank. Then Elliott took the cup and sipped, as well. Then the King took the cup and drank. I hadn't expected that, but shouldn't have been surprised. He returned the cup to me and nodded gravely as I accepted it.

We ate in silence, each lost in our own thoughts. The King ate a large portion of the food and let out an enormous belch when he was finished. As we finished our meals, we slid our dishes away from us and leaned back.
When we had finished, three women appeared out of the cabin and whisked away all of the dishes.

When they
were done, three guards emerged out onto the deck. They were grim of demeanor and heavily armed. I recognized the weapons they were carrying. They were ours. They had both of our M-4's, my Keltec Shotgun, and Spec-4's back-up weapon. The third man was carrying it. Although they didn't seem confident with the weapons they were carrying, they did look serious enough about using them.

"It's time," said the King, standing up.

I stood up and took a deep breath.

"I'm a man of my word," he stated, in a deep tone. "If you complete this challenge and survive, you will all be free to go. Fail and all of your lives will be forfeit."

"What?" asked Elliott, incredulous. "What challenge? Dad, what is he talking about?"

"I have to do this, son," I said. "Once I pass this test, we're free to leave. Otherwise, we're prisoners here."

Elliott didn't look happy about it, but didn't say anything. He did glare venom at the King. Spec-4 stood next to Elliott and put her hand on his shoulder. I just hoped she stuck with my plan. If this didn't work, she and Elliott were to try to make their escape and get back to the others. They didn't have the equipment or weapons to fight our group and win. If they could warn the others, the fight would be one sided.

If I won the challenge, I didn't know what I would do once they released us. If the
y released us, at all. A part of me wanted to come back with one of the Strykers and sink their entire island to the last boat. Part of me wanted to know more about the King and his dreams. Something inside told me that there was more there than I was aware. That I was meant to find him and his people. Time would tell. I would just have to survive the challenge, first.

The three men led me to another
Jon boat. This one was painted camouflage and had an electric trolling motor mounted on it. A trolling motor made very little noise. Wherever we were going, they were intent on keeping it quiet. We all took our seats in the boat, with me in the middle. They kept out of arm's reach of me, undoubtedly already hearing about what I did to the other idiots this morning.

I was surprised when the King himself joined us in the boat. Once he was seated, the one at the rear of the boat engaged the trolling motor and we silently slipped away from the little island of boats. There was just enough light in the sky for me to tell that we were headed towards the dam.

"We need to have you on shore and be gone before the sun is up or we'll attract too much attention from the dead," said the King.

"Are you going to tell me the challenge now?" I asked, dreading the answer.

"We're going to drop you off on one end of the dam," he said, grinning. "Your task is to cross the dam and survive. On the other side, you'll find a boat like this one moored on a small dock near the base of the dam. Reach it and get clear. If you can do that and survive, you're free to go."

"No fucking problem," I mumbled. "How long is the dam?"

"A little over five hundred feet," he said. "Almost two football fields. It's also crawling with the dead."

"Why is that?" I asked, surprised.

"About once a day," he explained, "an alarm sounds and the flood gates open because the lake level is so high. We figure it's some kind of automatic failsafe system to keep the dam from breaking. We've never seen any sign of anyone living on or around the dam."