Ragnarok Rising: The Awakening (Book One of The Ragnarok Rising Saga) (20 page)

“The fear of death follows from the fear of life.

A man who lives fully is prepared to die at any time.
”

- Mark Twain
 

04 April

That night, I had the zombie-Viking dream, again. This time, I remembered more details. An angry Gothi
[12]
had struck a deal with Loki, for immortality. Loki the Trickster gives him what he asks for, but not in the way he expected. Loki turns him into an undead creature, cursed to live for all time. The cursed Gothi begins biting and consuming his own Kindred, turning them into zombies. I watched it all from the eyes of a warrior who fought against the undead.

I awoke in
a cold sweat with Spec-4 still asleep on my shoulder. I really didn’t want to wake her, she looked so peaceful. So I slid out of bed as quietly as I could, trying hard not to wake her up. I pulled on my zip-side tactical boots and buckled on my duty belt. Then I slipped out of the room and gently pulled the door closed behind me. I still felt shook up from the dream, but forced myself to think about the task at hand.

I stumbled down the hall towards Booking and grabbed a cup of what could only dubiously be referred to as coffee.
It tasted horrible, but it did the trick. I could feel it kicking in almost immediately, knocking the worst of the cobwebs out of my mind. I mumbled a few half-hearted “good mornings” and headed for the break room. I could smell food even before I cleared the main sliders, and it urged me on to find the source. Whatever it was, it smelled good.

Inside the break
room, I found a big breakfast laid out for us. There was bacon, eggs, sausage, toast, oatmeal, cereal and coffee. It was
real
coffee, too. Having made that wondrous discovery, I poured my Booking sludge down the sink and hoped it didn’t eat through the pipes. Then I started to pour coffee into the same Styrofoam cup, but thought better of it. I didn’t want to contaminate the new coffee. So I tossed out the old cup and snagged two new ones.

Then I filled both cups and two trays with food.
I really piled it on, too. I loaded up the eggs, bacon, sausage, toast, even some milk and oatmeal. Then I balanced it all as carefully as I could and headed back towards the sliders. Amazingly, I made it back to Spec-4 without spilling anything. She sat up when I clicked on the lights. She rubbed her eyes and blinked a few times before she focused on me and the trays.

“Breakfast in bed,” she said. “My hero.
You really know how to treat a girl.”

“I left my shining armor and
white horse outside,” I replied, chuckling.

“Fine, fine, just give me the bacon,” she said, hungrily.

I laughed as she took the tray from me and dug in with all the gusto that only a soldier can muster. We both ate in silence for a few minutes, savoring the meal as much for the warmth and sanity it imparted as for the nourishment. I felt almost normal, for the moment. I knew it wouldn’t last, but I really didn’t want to think about that. For now, I just wanted to eat and pretend that the world outside hadn’t gone insane.

“So,” she said, sitting up on one elbow. “What’s on the agenda for today?”

“I have no idea. I’ll have to check in with Master Control. I know we have to take back Delta Pod, today. I also want to try for any other officers that we’ve been able to locate.”

“What’s the priority?”
she asked, chewing on a piece of bacon.

After a moment’s hesitation, I said, “The officers.
We’ll make them the first priority, unless they’re about to break out of Delta, or something.”

“Thanks for letting me sleep, and for the breakfast.
And for everything else, too.”

“Enjoy it while it lasts.
When we lose the grid, we’ll only have the generator for a week or so. Maybe longer depending on how much of the facility we have to run power to. When the generator goes, we’re eating MRE’s and cold canned goods.”

“Yum,” she said, with a smirk. “I lived on those things in the
‘ghan
. I can eat them, but I don’t like it.”

“Yeah, me
neither. Maybe we can find more fuel for the generators. It’s something to think about, later. Once we’ve rescued all the officers and survivors we can find.”

She just nodded and kept eating.

“I’m going to run down to Laundry and get our uniforms out of the dryer. Then I’m going to Master Control for a sit/rep
[13]
.”

She gave me a thumb’s up and continued to eat.
I shoved most of my breakfast into my mouth on the way back to Laundry. I dropped off the empty tray in the break-room and tossed my clothes in my locker. Then I dropped by and gave Spec-4 her uniform.

“Laundry service,” I said, tossing it to her.

“What’s this?” she said, snagging it out of the air. “I specifically recall asking for extra starch and a good pressing. I’m not paying for this.”

“Take it up with the manager.
I just work here.”

“Should I stay in cop uniform or change back into my ACU’s?”

“Up to you,” I said. “But the ACU’s will probably be more comfortable. If you need other clothes, we have black BDU’s in the supply room.”

“I’ll take you up on that, later,” she said.
“Right now, I’ll stick with my own.’

She didn’t waste any time, and started changing right in front of me.
I played the gentleman and averted my eyes. Well, I mostly did. I’m married, not gay. I couldn’t help but notice that she decided to go with the tactical thong. It looked pretty damned good, too. Then I excused myself and headed out the door.

From out in the hallway I called back in to her. “I’m heading up to Master Control.
You can join me when you’re ready.”

“Same goes for you,” she said, laughing.
“I’m not dressed yet.”

“That girl’s gonna be the death of me,” I mumbled as I walked away.

Shaking my head a couple times, I headed for the stairs and tried to get my mind on other things. It almost worked. The Lieutenant was waiting for me when I walked in to Master Control. He didn’t look like he’d slept much, if at all. I made a mental note to have Medical check on him, again. We needed him at the top of his game. He really was the glue that was keeping this operation afloat.

“What’s new, L.T.?”
I asked, trying to sound chipper.

“Hmm, where to start,” he said, and handed me another cup of coffee.

I took a sip and was happy to see that it
really
was the good stuff. It was even better than the break room coffee and many times superior to the Booking sludge. I savored the rich flavor, and thought I tasted a hint of chocolate. He talked while I sipped.

“We established contact with six more officers.
Two are barricaded in a Convenience Store out on West Sunshine, and the other four blockaded themselves inside a Drugstore at Battlefield and Campbell.”

“Are there any civilians with them?”

“The first group said no. They’re alone in the C-store. But the second group has about a dozen survivors with them.”

“That won’t be an easy rescue,” I said.
“We’ll need the transport bus for that one. Anything else?”

“Yes.
Seven more made it in last night, while you were asleep,” he said. “I would’ve called for you, but you looked like you needed the rest.”

“So do you, sir.
Have you slept at all?”

“I tried,” he said. “My arm hurts too bad to let me rest.
So, until it eases up, I’ll live on catnaps and coffee. At least, so long as the coffee holds.”

“Who made it in?”

“Ian Shane and his family got here around 0200,” he said. “Marty Cooper made it back with Johnny Bowman and Luis Ramirez from C-shift.”

That was good news.
Shane, Cooper and Bowman were all friends of mine from my shift. Ramirez was from C-Shift, but was a solid officer. I knew him pretty well, too. I was happy that Ian Shane had gone out and brought his wife and two kids back in with him. That was great news to me. It gave me hope that I might be able to do the same for my family.

“What about Delta Pod?
” I asked, changing the subject.

“Don’t worry about Delta.
I have teams assembling to go in there, now. Webber is leading the upper tier team and Matthews is leading the lower. They’re going to use the same tactics you did in Bravo Pod, last night.”

“Tell them to be careful, but give them the green light,” I said
, nodding my approval. “Do you want me to go in with them?”

“L
et someone else go into Delta,” he answered. “I’m sure that they can handle it. Besides, I figured you’d want to start planning the rescue of the officers we contacted.”

I nodded in agreement.
He was right, of course. I couldn’t do everything, myself. It was best to let others handle things, when I could. It wasn’t easy for me to do, though. I was more of a George Patton, than a Dwight Eisenhower. I couldn’t see myself leading from anywhere but the front.

“Attention all units,” said the L.T. into the radio.
“You are clear to proceed.”

Several responses of “copy” came back over the speaker.
Then, moments later, I felt more than heard the thump of grenades detonating down the hallway. It had begun. I watched on the big monitor as the teams moved in, top tier first just like we’d done the night before. The tactics were just as effective for them, as well. It played out more or less like the scene from Bravo Pod. With the only exception being that no one fell down the stairs. Only I did that, and I still felt the aches and pains from the tumble.

In less than two minutes, both teams had moved into the dayroom and began breaking up into twos to clear the individual cells.
It was over in less than five minutes, start to finish. And best of all, there were no casualties on our side. When the radio started in with a teams calling “Clear”, I finally started to relax. I was impressed with the teams. They’d done well. I grabbed the mic and said as much.

“Good work, people,” I said.
“Delta Pod is ours, again.”

I reached over and fired up the exhaust fans as the teams with laundry carts moved in.
They would load up a cart with bodies and take them down the elevator and dump them out near the south fence. It wasn’t the best possible solution, but it was the best we could do under the circumstances. Then the task of cleaning the pod for future use would begin. I didn’t envy the people who would be doing that. Frankly, I’d rather face the zombies.

There were close to forty of us inside the jail, not including inmates.
But out of that, only about fifteen were in any shape to fight. Out of the fifteen, only about six of us were in good enough shape to run or sustain a long fight. It was sad, but true. There just weren’t that many of us left. Between broken bodies and shattered nerves, we were in no shape for any kind of extended fighting.

If we did successfully rescue the trapped officers, just how many of them were able bodied?
Had any of them been bitten? Would they still be human when we got to them? It killed me to think of these things, but I had to consider it. By the time we got to them, there may not be anyone left alive. I knew we had to move quickly. Time was ticking away and each moment we waited could mean the difference between life and death for the officers who were trapped.

“Now, what do we do about the other inmates?”

I hadn’t even considered that, yet. I knew that with the loss of Delta and Bravo, we still had over 300 inmates in our custody. I’d been so focused on saving as many officers as I could that I hadn’t even considered what to do with all of the inmates. I immediately thought of a few things, but had to rule out tossing people off of the roof or just shooting them in their cells. It was a tempting thought, but definitely not in the “good guy” handbook.

“What do you think we should do, sir?” I asked.

The L.T. thought a minute, and then said, “Well, anyone here on a minor offense we should just cut loose.”

“Yeah, I can see that,” I replied, nodding in agreement.

“Fortunately, most of our violent offenders were taken care of when we lost Bravo.”

“So, what do we do with the rest of them?”

“Cut them all loose,” he said, after a long pause. “It’s the only humane thing to do.”

“We may have to face them again as a zombie,” said Andrews, from the control console.

“That may very well be so,” replied the L.T. “But I can’t find a way to justify shooting anyone before they become a zombie, unless it’s in self defense.”

“We could arm them,” said Andrews. “Lord knows we could use the help.”

“True,” I said. “But you won’t find a single one of us that’s comfortable with the idea of giving guns to an inmate and trusting them to watch our backs. I’m sorry, but it just won’t happen.”

“Yeah,” agreed Andrews. “It’s probably not the best idea.
They’d probably just turn on us, anyway.”