Ragnarok Rising: The Crossing (The Ragnarok Rising Saga) (42 page)

"It's a
n old soldier's trick," explained Randall. "Leave nothing behind for your enemy to track you by."

"You do realize that the dead don't care what we drop, right?" she replied, petulantly.

"It's not the dead that worry me," I said, not looking up. "Rosewood and his people won't just let us walk away. We haven't seen the last of them."

"Do you really think they'll come after us?" asked Copeland, looking worried.

"I expect them to," I answered. "If they track us, they think I'll lead them right to our supplies."

"They don't have enough people to take on your group," countered Copeland.

"How many do they actually have?" I asked, wondering if Rosewood had told me the truth.

"Half a dozen deputies," replied Randall. "Another ten in firefighters, Lebanon Police Officers and medical staff."

"That's more than Rosewood told me about," I said, shaking my head.

"You said your group is around a hundred people," said Copeland. "You have way more people than he does."

"Not everyone in our group is a fighter," I explained. "Some are kids, the elderly and the injured. I don't want to have to fight them."

"What have you got in mind?" asked Randall.

"My plan is to lead them away from where we're camped and then lose them," I said, checking the load on my rifle. "Do they have any vehicles to follow us with?"

"A few patrol vehicles," said Randall. "I don't think they have anything more than that. If they do, it's just civilian vehicles. Nothing special."

"Good," I replied. "They won't be much of a match for our Humvees, then."

"How long do you want to stay here?" asked Randall.

"I'd rather be out of here before dark," I answered. "How close is your fire station?"

"The south end of town," he replied.

"Anything closer?" I asked, not wanting to be on foot through the entire town.

"The city police station is closer," he said, thinking. "We should be able to get to it, if we're careful."

"Alright," I said, after a moment, "let's head for that. "I'm going back up on the roof and check the area. If we're completely surrounded, we may be stuck."

Shouldering my pack, I headed for the roof. I took my binoculars out of my pack and hung them around my neck. Then I crouched low and slowly opened the door to the roof. I want
ed to make sure a sniper on the roof of the jail couldn't take me out as I emerged from the stairs. When no shot came, I brought the glasses up and leaned out, scanning the rooftop of the jail. There wasn't anyone visible, so I panned it back and forth. I could see pieces of the siren, but no people.

Once I was sure that no one was going to shoot at me, I
crouched moved out onto the roof. I crept over to the south edge of the building and looked into the streets. I could see quite a few zombies moving around, but nothing seemed to be trying to get into the building. The majority of the dead in the area seemed to be converging on the jail. That was good news for us, since they couldn't get out to follow us if they were surrounded.

Taking my radio out of my pack, I checked the batteries and dials. I half expected
to find that it had been broken or disabled it. It seemed to be working fine. If we had still been using the radios from our jail, Rosewood might have been able to pick up the frequency with the base unit they had at their jail. But this was a SINCGARS system. Not only would he have to have one of his own, but he'd have to know our frequency, too. There was little or no chance that they would be able to listen in.

Activating the set, I dialed in the correct frequency and adjusted t
he volume. I didn't want it to be loud enough for the dead below me to hear it and come investigating. I waited for the system to power on and synch-up. Once I had a clear signal, I activated the switch and began to broadcast.

"829 to base," I began. "Do you copy, over?"

At first, there was only static. I waited a few seconds and tried again.

"Base, this is 829," I repeated. "Do you read?"

There was more static, then an excited voice came over the speakers.

"Wylie!" came the unmistakable voice of Spec-4, almost shouting.

"Yeah, it's me," I replied, eloquently. "Are you guys alright?"

"We're fine," she answered, happily. "How are
you
?"

"I'm good," I said. "I picked up a couple friendlies, but I have encountered a group of hostiles."

"How many friendlies?" she asked.

"Two," I replied. "The hostiles are with the Lacland County Sheriff's Office."

"The hostiles are cops?" she asked, surprised.

"Affirmative," I replied. "Do not…I repeat…DO NOT approach them."

"What if they come to us?" she said.

"I'd engage them before they engage you," I advised. "They are not friendly."

"Copy," she replied. "Do you want us to extract you?"

"You'll need more than one Humvee," I answered. "
With three of us here, one won't do the trick."

"Understood," she replied. "When do you want us to come for you?"

I glanced up at the sun and noticed that it was getting low in the sky. Holding up my hand to the horizon, I could fit two fingers between the sun and the earth. That meant that we had about two hours of light left. That would be cutting it very close to get us and get back inside the bunker before the
Stalkers
emerged from their hiding places.

From the number of the dead still walking the streets here, I could estimate that there weren't any
Stalkers
in the area. I had already observed that they fed on the other types of the dead, as well as the living. If we could get into the Police Station, we could hold up for the night and have them extract us in the morning.

"Negative," I replied, sighing.

I had no desire to spend the night out here in the land of the dead, but I couldn't risk everyone else just to come get us.

"The sun's getting low in the sky," I said. "Too close to time for the
Stalkers
to come out. We'll hold up for the night and wait until morning."

"Are you sure?" she asked, concern in her voice.

"Yeah," I said, hesitating. "We'll hold up for the night and tomorrow we can check on the group we found at the Mega-Mart."

"Copy that," she replied. "Give us a call if you need us."

"How are the people we found in the country club?" I asked, curious.

"We got them back here with no problems," she replied. "Medical cleared them all and we've gotten them a place to sleep and some food."

"Good," I said. "Glad we could help them."

"So are they," she replied.

"Alright," I said, "we'll see you in the morning. I'll call and let you know where to pick us up after the sun comes up."

"Copy," she replied. "Rogue-6, out."

"829 clear," I replied and switched off the radio.

Stayi
ng low, I headed over to the south side of the building and peered down. Below me was an alleyway that ran alongside the railroad tracks. On the other side of the tracks was a residential neighborhood. I didn't see any zombies milling around here, so a plan began to form. If we could get into the neighborhood without being seen, we could sneak through yards and between buildings to the Police Station. We just had to be quiet and very, very lucky.

I slipped the binoculars and the radio back into my pack, then headed down the stairs. I found Randall and Copeland sitting right where I had left them. Copeland was finishing her bottle of water and Randall was checking over the shotgun. He had the look of someone who had done that a few times before. I decided to ask him about it.

"What branch?" I asked, observing his reaction.

"Air Force," he replied
, straightening up slightly. "I started out as an aircraft mechanic on the big B-2 bombers, but moved into Security. I never liked working on engines."

"Can't blame you there," I replied. "Try not to use the shotgun, though. If we're going to pull this off, we're going to have to keep as quiet as possible."

I handed him one of my PMR-30's with the silencer and a couple of magazines for it, as well. He looked it over with a perplexed look on his face.

"It's a .22 Magnum," I explained. "Thirty round magazine. It's loaded with hollow points. More than enough to pop a zombie brain."

"Very nice," he said, appreciatively. "Do you have one, too?"

I pulled out the other one and held it up for him to see.

"Yeah," I replied. "When this is over, I want my guns back. We have plenty of others for you to chose from when we get back, but those are mine."

"No problem," he said, chuckling.

"We need to move out," I said, pointing towards the stairs. "We only have a couple hours of daylight left. We need to be inside that Police Station before the sun goes down."

Randall got down on one knee and quickly sketched the area in the dust on the floor. Although the Police Station was only a few blocks away, it was not going to be easy. We could move quietly through yards and between houses, but we were going to have to cross quite a bit of open ground. The chances of us getting through without being seen were slim.

"Why don't we just wait here?" asked Copeland.

"Well," I said, "for one thing, we don't have any food or water left. For another, if they figure out we're inside, we can't defend this place. There are too many ways they could get inside and too few ways for us to escape."

"Besides that," said Randall, "if we can get inside the police station, we might get lucky and find more weapons. There should be emergency supplies in there, too. When the dead hit town, it spread fast. I doubt they had time to deploy everything they had. I know we didn't at the fire department."

"Look," I said, "we're moving. We have to stick together and keep quiet. I'll take the lead and Randall in the back. Keep Copeland between us and try to keep it quiet. I don't have enough ammo to sustain a big fight all by myself."

Everyone grabbed their gear as I headed for the stairs. When we reached the ground floor, I headed for a door that opened onto the alleyway. As long as the alley was still clear, we might be able to sneak out without a fight. I stopped next to the door and waited for the others to catch up. Once they were in place beside me, I nodded to Randall. It was about to begin.

I unlocked the door as quietly as I could and then gently turned the knob. My heart felt like it was going to beat its way out of my chest. Sweat was running down my forehead and dripping off of the end of my nose. I breathed a silent prayer and nodded once to the others.

"Ready?" I mouthed, silently.

Randall nodded and Copeland just shrugged and rolled her eyes. Oh yeah, this was going to work out just fine. I put my shoulder against the door and readied my pistol. If this was going to go badly, it was about to start. If we couldn't get out of the building, then we'd be trapped when the horde came. I clicked off the safety and tightened my grip. Then with an audible sigh, I pushed the door open.

I was trying to push it open quietly, but it must have been years since it had been opened. The metal door creaked then screeched as the rusty hinges let out a protest. The damage was done, though. We had to move, now. So much for stealth. I stepped out into the alleyway and looked both directions. The alley to our west was clear, but two zombies were shuffling around the corner as I stepped out. I'm sure they were attracted by the noise. I couldn't take the risk of them being
Shriekers
, so I snapped off two silenced shots and put them both down.

Randall and Copeland came out the door and I shut it behind us. Glancing around, I didn't see any more of the dead
or hear the sound of shuffling feet. The only sound I could hear was the gentle wind as it whispered between the buildings. Gesturing for them to follow me, I headed off across the alley and the railroad tracks. I kept low and swept from side to side, trying to keep an eye on Randall and Copeland at the same time.

When I reached the middle of the railroad tracks, I crouched low and put my knee down on a railroad tie. I panned around in every direction, keeping the pistol at the ready. I could see several dead in the road to the south of us, but they hadn't noticed us. There was nothing on the railroad tracks, in either direction. Satisfied that we'd made it clear of the building unseen, I moved on.

We crossed the tracks and a parking lot. There was another alleyway that ran between a business and a row of houses. Walking down the alley would have been easier, but it afforded us no cover at all. I headed for the backyard of the first house. There was a wooden fence surrounding the yard. Leaning over it, I checked to make sure it was empty.

Not
seeing anything moving in the yard, I slipped over the fence. Crouching low, I waited for the others to catch up. Seconds later, Copeland and Randall were beside me, sitting on the ground. We sat there on the cool earth, catching our breath for a few moments.