Ragnarok Rising: The Crossing (The Ragnarok Rising Saga) (28 page)

I started to line up my second shot when I felt something bump the boat. I knew we were in deep enough water that we shouldn't even come close to hitting the bottom. Snake got to his feet and looked around, surprise evident on his face. I tossed him the M-4 and brought the Beowulf up to my shoulder. Whatever we hit wasn't going to get a warm welcome.

"What the fuck was that?" he asked, readying the weapon.

"I don't know," I answered and flipped my selector switch
to fire. "Whatever it is, it's not going to like the reception it gets."

"Careful where you point that thing," he said, nodding at the Beowulf. "That big bastard will blow a hole right through this boat."

"Copy," I whispered through clenched teeth.

I activated the tactical light and started sweeping the area.
As soon as the bright tactical light clicked on, a
Shrieker
on the dock started its keening wail. I spun instantly and brought it into my sights. One short squeeze of the trigger and Beowulf roared its fury across the water, finding its target. My shot hit the
Shrieker
in the chest, just below the neck. The shriek ended instantly as the head flew away from the body and went rolling down the dock. Beowulf had spoken.

You could hear the deep roar echo off down the lake in both directions. Before the echo had stopped, I was already scanning along the edge of the boat, searching the surrounding water. After a moment of searching, I found what had hit us. The dark water was illuminated by my flashlight. In the murky water below, I could see the shapes of the dead moving around. The water was deep enough that they couldn't reach us, but the occasional
Stalker
would jump and try. One of them must have gotten close.

They were too deep for me to try to shoot. I might have tried it if I had a spear, but I doubted the bullets would go through that much water. I didn't have time to ponder it for long, though.
Behind me, the big outboard engine sputtered and then came to life. Snake had done the trick.

"Bingo," he said, crawling out from under the console. "We're in business."

Throttling up the big engine, Snake spun the wheel and we angled out across the lake on a direct course for the far side of the dam. We were cruising along at a good rate of speed when a second distress flare rocketed into the night sky. It came from the same spot on the far side of the dam. Now I had the location firmly established in my mind.

"Wilder to Grant," said Spec-4's voice from my radio holder.

I yanked the radio out and keyed up.

"Grant, here," I replied.

"We're following you across the lake," she said. "We're planning on staying away from the shore but nearby, in case you need an extraction."

"Copy that," I replied. "Good plan. We'll yell if we need you."

"Copy," she replied. "Out."

I could see the two pontoon boats matching our speed and staying about forty yards on our port side. It was too dark to see anyone's faces, but I knew they were there. Even though they couldn't see me, I still waved at them and smiled. It was good to know they would be close if we ran into too much trouble.

"E.T.A. less than two minutes," called Snake, bringing me back to the moment.

"There are
Stalkers
in the fucking water," I called out over the roar of the motor. "We're going to have to go in hot."

"Fine," he replied. "You take point."

I dropped my magazine and replaced my expended ammo. Then I took out two of my extra magazines for the M-4 and loaded them with ammo for the Beowulf. It wasn't a lot, but it did give me another twenty rounds of firepower to rely on. With a quick prayer to the Gods, I gave my Thor's Hammer a quick squeeze and let it fall to lay on the outside of my armor.

As we approached the edge of the lake, I clicked my light on and swept the shoreline. We were clear, at least for the moment. Snake kept the engine running hard right up until the last second, then cut the power and brought the motor up out of the water. I heard a couple scrapes before we hit the shore, then we slid up onto the bank.
We stopped with the entire boat out of the water. I just hoped we hadn't punctured the hull.

I was out of the boat just as it came to rest, sweeping my weapon to the left. Snake was on my heels, sweeping to the right. The hillside was clear as far as I could see, but the tall grass kept me from having a clear view. The dead avoided steep hills unless they were chasing something. They didn't have the dexterity to walk up or down steep inclines. We could use that to our advantage.

"Let's go, little brother," said Snake. "You take the lead, I'll be right behind you."

Without answering, I brought my weapon around and advanced on the hillside. It was a steep climb, but I felt better about it
than I did the last time. At least I was armed and had back-up for this trip. The moon was bright in the night sky, so I clicked off the tactical light. There was plenty of light to see by.

We emerged onto the top of the dam and crouched at the edge of the road. I could see the dead moving around on the dam, but they seemed to be attracted to the spot where the flares had appeared. Even the noise of the boat hadn't attracted them away from the glowing light in the sky. As if on cue, another one leapt into the air, streaming smoke behind it.

Keeping low, I ran for the far side of the road and crouched down behind a guardrail. Seconds later, Snake crouched down beside me. He either didn't really understand how much trouble we were in or he was enjoying every second of it. I had the distinct feeling that it was the latter. The grin on his face was like a kid opening presents. It was the dream of a true warrior to die in battle. He might just get his wish before we got out of here.

I leaned out and glanced down the hill that led to the bottom of the dam. It was steeper on this side than on the other. Climbing down was going to be treacherous. At least any of the dead that tried to follow us would just tumble down and get broken to pie
ces by the rocks on the way. I just hoped that it didn't happen to us, too.

"This isn't going to be easy," I whispered, pointing down the hill.

"If it was easy," he replied, grinning, "then the dead could follow us."

"Good point," I admitted.

I took a deep breath, then started down the incline. I had to let my weapon dangle around my neck so that I could use my hands to keep from falling. It wasn't a sheer drop, but it was damned close to one. We fought our way through underbrush and rocks the size of beer kegs. As we got closer to the bottom, I could see the parking lot was almost deserted. There were only two cars in the entire lot.

One was an older station wagon and the other was a large four wheel drive Chevy Suburban. The suburban must have belonged to a hunter. It was painted flat black with reinforced bumpers, a brush guard, oversized mud tires and what looked like fog lights mounted to the top. It looked like it could cross almost any terrain that you wanted to throw at it.

"We're coming back in that," I said, pointing at the suburban. "Think you can hotwire it?"

"No problem," he said, grinning. "Why?"

"Because I ain't climbing that fucking hill in the dark," I replied.

Whatever he was going to say was interrupted by the launch of another flare. This time, I saw exactly where it was shot from. I could see two people on top of one of the power stations that ran along the back of the dam. One was standing and the other was sitting in a chair. At first, I thought it was a lawn chair or something similar until he started moving in it. It wasn
't a lawn chair. It was a wheelchair.

"Well," I said, pointing, "this rescue just got a little more difficult."

"We could just leave," said Snake.

"No," I replied. "We already came all this way. Besides that, I won't leave anyone behind. Not if I can help it."

Snake just shrugged and continued down the hill. When we emerged onto level ground, we were near the edge of a parking lot and close to the door to the offices of the dam power plant. We cut around a small building and headed for the front of the main one. There were four of the dead beating on the door. I drew one of my silenced Keltec PMR-30's and brought it up in a two handed grip.

Four quick shots of the deadly .22 Magnum hollow points put all of them down with little noise. The bodies hitting the ground were louder than the shots. I kept the weapon up as we headed for the door. I looked
up and the two people that had fired the flares were watching us from a catwalk about twenty feet above us.

"You call for a ride?" I asked, trying to sound friendly.

"Who are you?" asked the one standing.

I could tell by the voice that it was a woman. She was wearing jeans and a ball cap which concealed her appearance. The one in the chair was definitely male. I could see his face in the moonlight. Unless women at the lake grew beards, that one was a guy.

"Wylie Grant," I replied, holding up my badge. "Sheriff's department!"

"We'll be right down," replied the man.

Seconds later, they disappeared into the dam. We put our backs to the door and kept our weapons up, in case any more of the dead were planning to drop by unannounced. We waited a very tense couple of minutes before we could hear the door behind us being cleared. It sounded like they had barricaded it from the inside. We kept our weapons pointed out and away from the door. No sense making the wrong impression when they opened the door.

Despite me having the good manners not to have guns pointing in their faces when the doors opened, they had no such compulsions. When I turned around, I was staring into the barrels of an automatic handgun and 12 gauge shotgun. The man had the pistol and the woman had the shotgun. Neither looked like they had
any problems using them.

"Easy, there," I said, raising one hand. "We're not here for trouble. We came to answer your distress flares."

"How do we know you're not just here to rob us?" demanded the woman.

"You don't," I replied, honestly. "But let's look at this realistically, shall we. We have better gear than you do. One shotgun and a pistol is hardly worth the trip down here."

"We might have other supplies," she said, defensively.

"Do you?" I asked, trying to force a smile in spite of the gun in my face.

They glanced nervously at one another before the woman shrugged.

"Not really," said the man. "We don't have much left."

"We've got food and shelter," I said, "if you want to come with us."

"How do we know we can trust you?" asked the woman.

"I guess, you don't," I replied. "It's up to you. If you don't want to go with us, we'll leave. Plain and simple."

"We don't have much choice," said the man, glancing at her and shaking her head. "We can't stay here."

"Do you have any food?" I asked, concerned.

"We're low," he replied, "but that's not the problem. There was a big explosion yesterday. The dam's cracked in several places.
It won't take much to breach the spillway. When it goes, I don't know what that will do for the integrity of the entire dam."

"Shit!" said Snake, impressed. "When you do something, you do it right."

"That was you!" snapped the woman.

"Hang on," I said, turning to her. "First off, I had no way of knowing that anyone was in there. Two, I was saving my own life. If I hadn't set those fires, the dead would have gotten me."

She looked like she wanted to say something else, but thought better of it. I had the distinct feeling that we weren't going to get along very well.

"It doesn't matter, now," said the man. "The damage is done. We either leave or we die here when the
food goes. That's what we have to deal with. We can argue and point fingers, later."

"How much time do we have
before the spillway goes?" I asked, turning to the man.

"Not long
, I would guess," he replied, frowning. "Could be hours. Could be days. Hell, it might shock us and hold for years. I'm not a structural engineer."

"Then we should
err on the side of caution," I said, nodding at Snake. "We'd better get the hell out of here."

"I'll get the truck," said Snake. "Do either of you have the keys to that suburban?"

"I do," said the woman, reaching into her pocket.

"I didn't expect that," I muttered while she dug out her keys.

"Why?" she snapped. "Because I'm a woman?"

"No," I replied, starting to lose my patience. "Because it's high enough off the ground that I
would have trouble climbing in."

"Oh," she muttered. "It was my husband's truck."

"Where is he, now?" I asked, not sure if I really wanted to ask that question.

"He was on deployment when all of this started," she explained. "Last I knew, he was in
Afghanistan. Now, who knows? I drove it to work when things got bad. I wanted to be able to get off the roads, if I needed to."

"Good plan," I said, nodding. "How did you get stuck here?"