Ragnarok Rising: The Crossing (The Ragnarok Rising Saga) (9 page)

We had no way to know if any survivors in the area would be hostile.
However, by the same logic, we had no way of knowing if they were friendly either. After our encounters with the Freemen, I thought it was safer to err on the side of caution. Being cautious would keep us alive. I would rather apologize for being suspicious of someone than watch them kill my friends.

Since there were four bedrooms and five of us, I decided that we’d take turns on guard duty all night and everyone would have a chance to get some sleep. Tomorrow was going to be a very busy day and we would all need our rest. After a quiet meal of
MREs and bottled water, we all took our turn in the shower. It was amazing. I felt like a new man.

Then we
broke out our camping gear and everyone headed for bed. I decided to take first watch, so I let the others have the bed. Once everyone bedded down for the night, I turned off all of the lights except a light in the bathroom and a small lamp on the desk in the office. I sat in the office chair and leaned back, placing my boots on the desk. I wasn’t even remotely tired so I just sat in silence, lost in my own thoughts. I wasn’t sure how long I sat there before I noticed the noise.

I knew it had to be well after dark when I realized I was hearing a very soft noise that seemed to be coming from outside. I made certain not to move or to make any noise, but began to listen very carefully.
It was very faint, but distinct. There was something moving outside the building. Whatever it was, it was very stealthy. I think I felt it more than actually heard it.

Slowly, I leaned forward in the chair. Careful so I didn’t make any noise, I slipped out of the chair and turned off the light. I picked up my M-4 and slipped out into the hallway. I could clearly hear the soft breathing of my sleeping companions. C
losing my eyes, I strained to hear even the slightest noise. That’s when I heard the soft metallic click. I cocked my head and listened. A few seconds later, I heard it again. It was coming from the door.

I crept slowly to the door and held my breath. In the dim light from the bathroom behind me, I could clearly see that someone or something was slowly turning the doorknob. The click came as they turned it back and forth, trying to open it. When it stopped moving, I could hear something walking away.

“That’s got to be a person out there,” I thought.

Slipping quickly back into the office, I shut the door behind me to cut off the light from the hallway. With the office plunged into complete darkness, I peeled the edge of the duct tape back and lifted the black plastic. In the moonlight outside, I could just make out the shapes of several figures moving around. I held my breath to keep from making the slightest noise. Part of me was thinking we had other survivors outside, but the instinctive part of my brain was screaming a warning.

When one of the figures turned towards me, I could see the dead face illuminated in the moonlight. The glassy eyes reflected the pale moonlight with no warmth to them. They were the eyes of a predator…the eyes of the hungry dead. The
Stalkers
were worse than I thought. They were showing signs of intelligence. The turning of the doorknob, the systematic way they checked around the Humvees. They weren’t just wandering around their environment. They were reacting to it. I felt like someone had poured ice water down my spine.

Resealing the plastic, I slipped out into the hallway. My heart was racing in my chest and I felt like a trapped animal. Then I heard a sound that nearly made my thundering heart stop beating altogether. I could hear the scrabbling sounds as one or more of them climbed the wall and onto the roof. My mind flashed images behind my eyes. Something that had been bothering me since we saw the bullet holes in the walls of the bathrooms came sharply into focus.

Some of the bullet holes were above head level. Some were all the way up near the top of the wall. That meant that whoever had been doing the shooting hadn’t been executing survivors. They had been shooting at
Stalkers
that climbed the walls to get away from them. That made them more than just a zombie. They had to be some kind of revenant. There was some kind of sinister intelligence at work behind those dead eyes. Suddenly, I felt more terrified than I had felt since this all began.

Creeping into Southard’s room, I knelt beside his bed.
He was deeply asleep with his sleeping bag zipped up over his face. I didn’t see his M-4 anywhere, so I knew it had to be inside the bag with him. I had to be careful how I woke him to avoid getting shot for my trouble.

“Chuck,” I whispered. “Wake up.”

“Mmm….,” he mumbled from inside the sleeping bag.

“Chuck,” I whispered, more urgently, “we’ve got trouble.”

I saw him tense up and then slowly unzip the bag. I could see his face emerge and his eyes were wide open. I’d just said the magic words. Chuck’s mental alarm bells were sounding and he came awake instantly, listening for danger.

“What’s going on?” he mouthed.

I held my finger up, motioning for him to be quiet. He nodded his understanding and I leaned close to his ear to avoid even whispering too loudly.

“There are at least
half a dozen
Stalkers
outside,” I said, softly. “Maybe more.”

“So,” he replied. “They can’t get inside. Can they?”

“They’re smarter than we thought,” I said through clenched teeth. “We may not be as safe as we think.”

He just leaned back and looked at me questioningly.

“They were creeping around the building, careful to not make noise,” I said. “They were also trying the doorknob.”

“So,” said Southard. “That might just be a memory fragment. It doesn’t make them smart.”

“They did the same thing to the Humvees,” I said. “Now they’re on the roof.”

“What!?” he snapped, raising his voice slightly. “That’s impossible.”

“Just listen,” I replied.

We sat in silence for a few moments before he heard the soft footfalls on the roof. They were moving slowly and methodically. It seemed to me like they were looking for a way inside.
Chuck must have had the same thought I did, because he unzipped his sleeping bag and brought out his rifle. Swinging his legs off of the bed, he reached down and grabbed his boots from beneath the bunk.

Seconds later, he was zipping the sides and getting up. Together, we slipped back out into the hallway and down to the door. The doorknob was moving again, only this time I wasn’t the only one who saw it. Then I took him into the office and shut the door. We peaked out from opposite corners of the window and watched as more and more of them arrived. We could see them moving in the moonlight, searching for any sign of prey. They seemed to be drawn to this area. It was like they knew we were there, but just couldn’t find us.

“How many of them do you think there are?” whispered Southard.

“Too damned many,” I replied, wide-eyed.

“If they’re out there when we try to leave,” he said, “we’re in for a hell of a fight.”

“I think they’re sensitive to light,” I said. “We’ve ne
ver seen one out in the day, and the ones we saw that killed Jensen never came out into the light.”

“I hope you’re right,” he said, patting me on the shoulder. “Otherwise this trip is gonna get real interesting.”

“Yeah,” I agreed, covering the corner of the window, again.

“You want to get some sleep?” asked Southard.

“I don’t think I can, knowing what’s out there.”

“Yeah, me either,” he replied. “How about we make some coffee and let the others sleep while they can.”

“Sounds like a plan,” I said. “I’ll fish out the coffee pot and get some water.”

“I’ll get a couple heat tabs out of my bag and get them ready,” he said, heading back into his room.

We brewed a pot of strong Gunny-style coffee, complete with the bourbon. It wasn’t Chuck’s first time drinking it. In fact, we were both growing rather attached to it. We sipped in silence, listening to the sound of Gods knew how many of the
Stalkers
slinking around outside the walls of our temporary home. If we couldn’t get into the cache, then this place was going to be our only sanctuary until we either returned to the Underground or found our way inside the cache.

“You still think we should relocate here?” asked Southard, sipping his coffee.

“If we can clear out these
Stalkers
, then yeah,” I said. “This place has plenty of arable land for growing crops, a fresh water supply and large living areas. There are more than enough houses to go around for everyone in the Underground.”

“What about power?”

“We’ll need to figure out how much power the cache can produce,” I answered. “I doubt it will be enough to power the entire park.”

“Then there’s the problem of creating a secure perimeter,” said Southard.

“I think I may have a way around part of that,” I replied. “We won’t have to secure the water’s edge. The zombies won’t go into the water, on purpose. That just leaves the line from the Niangua River to the spring. We might be able to secure that with scrounged fencing or by turning cars onto their sides. There should be plenty of abandoned cars in the area.”

“Well, then we have a much bigger problem to deal with,” said Southard.

“What’s that?”

“What do we do when we run out of coffee?” he asked, chuckling.

“Well, we can probably plant coffee beans if we can find some to plant,” I said. “But barring that, there’s always chicory.”

“What’s chicory?” he asked.

“It’s a wild plant,” I replied. “People have been using it as a coffee additive and replacement for centuries. I’m sure we can find some wild around here somewhere.”

“Is it any good?”

“I’ve only had it a couple of times,” I said. “It's really bitter. More so than regular coffee, but it was drinkable.”

“What about sugar?”

“We can get sugar from sugar beets and also natural honey,” I said. “There are a lot of things we can do to replace things we used to use all the time with more natural alternatives.”

“What about toilet paper?” he asked, smiling.

“That one might be problematic,” I agreed. “Once that’s all gone, it’s back to leaves or we start building bidets.”

“I’ll take that over using my hand,” he said, shaking his head. “Not to mention, it would be my luck I’d use poisonous leaves or something.”

“Yeah, that’s not the place you want poison ivy,” I agreed.

We both chuckled at that mental image. We must have been louder than we had anticipated because suddenly we heard something hit the door with a lot of force. It was followed by several snarls, and then they began pounding on the door together. Our
only saving grace was that the door opened outward. Had it opened inward, they probably would have been inside by the third hit.

The impacts were loud enough that it woke the others. Everyone came running out of their rooms, weapons in hand. Becca looked terrified, but Spec-4 and Elliott were ready for a fight. Southard and I got to our feet and exchanged concerned glances. We both knew that if they got inside, we probably wouldn’t be able to take them all before we were overwhelmed.

“What the hell is going on?” asked Spec-4, checking the load on her weapon.

“We’re surrounded by
Stalkers
,” I replied. “I think they’re even on the roof.”

As if to prove me correct, we heard them begin to pound on the roof, looking for a way inside. Becca was crying now, and slid down the door to the bathroom and brought her knees up against her chest. She dropped her weapon and held her knees tightly. Becca’s time trapped in the root cellar had broken her nerves. She was not going to be any help, at all.

“We’ve got to get the hell out of here,” said Spec-4. “If those things get inside, we’re screwed.”

“We can’t go out there,” said Southard. “That’s suicide.”

“Where else can we go?” asked Elliott.

“The cache,”
I said. “We can seal the doors behind us. Everyone get your gear while I get that door open.”

Since my gear was still packed, I just sat it by the door and went to work on the lock. This door wasn’t nearly as secured as the exterior door. It was still heavy steel, but the lock wasn’t protected like the other one. Removing my combat knife, I slid it into the lock and began working on it. It was going to take me a few minutes, but I was confident that I would get it open.

Southard was the first to join me by the door with his gear ready. By unspoken agreement, he switched his weapon to semi-auto and covered the door behind me. The beating on the door was becoming more frantic as the
Stalkers
tried to force their way inside. I could hear the ones on the roof trying to remove the shingles and force their way in through the roof. I was hoping that since the rest of the building was so heavily reinforced, that they didn’t skimp on the materials when they built the roof.

My fears were confirmed when I heard the sound of breaking wood from above us. They were coming inside. We only had a few more minutes before they would be pouring in through the ceiling. Southard and I exchanged worried glances and I went back to work on the lock at a frenzied pace.