Ragnarok Rising: The Awakening (Book One of The Ragnarok Rising Saga) (51 page)

I panned the entire area again, just to be sure.
When I didn’t find anything the second time, I decided to chance it. There was just too much equipment inside there to leave behind. Unless the Sweeper Team had taken everything. If it was gone we’d move on, but I had to check. I turned and slid back down to the edge of the roof, then hopped back onto the Humvee. Once I was back down on solid ground, I saw Spec-4 and Southard staring at something. I immediately brought up my weapon and went to investigate.

“What’s up?” I asked, as I approached.

“Well, I’ll never make fun of your friend with the bow, again,” said Southard.

“Why, what happened?” I said.

“I spotted three zombies approaching us from over next to that fast food place,” said Spec-4. “They were still about thirty yards out and I didn’t want to risk firing a shot until you said we were clear. John just calmly drew his bow and put an arrow into the head of all three of them with three shots. All in less than ten seconds.”

“I told you he was good with a bow,” I said, grinning.

“Yeah, and more than a little scary,” said Spec-4.

Right about then John came walking back over to us.
He’d gone to reclaim his arrows.

“Nice shooting, man,” I said.

“Not really,” he replied. “I practice at longer range than that. If I’d have missed them, I would have been pretty upset with myself.”

“Still,” I said, “I never heard a thing.
That’s good.”

John just nodded and started cleaning off his arrows with a bottle of water and some cloth.
I watched him for a second, and then shook my head. He seemed to be accepting the situation with calm reserve. At least he looked a lot more in control than I felt.

“The church looks clear,” I said. “I also found another gate on the north side.
What’s even better is that I didn’t see any zombies along the north fence. If we’re quick, we might just make it inside without a firefight.”

“How do you want to do it, this time?” asked Spec-4.

“I’ll pull up to the gate,” I said. “I want you in the turret to provide cover. John and Southard will go over the fence and open the gate. If you see any movement, John takes it out quietly. Don’t fire your weapons unless you don’t have a choice. Silence is our friend, this time. If anyone’s in there, they’re inside the church. Let’s try not to alert them.”

With that, we all piled back inside the Humvee.
Spec-4 immediately popped the turret open and readied the SAW. John and Southard nodded that they were ready. I fired the engine back to life and pulled away from the pavilion. Instead of going back out onto the street, I just drove through the park and out through the civic center parking area. That put us almost directly across the street from the gate I was trying to get to. There were numerous abandoned cars on the road, but not enough to block my passage. Within a few seconds, I was pulling right up alongside the gate.

No sooner than my wheels stopped, John and Southard were out the door.
John was up onto the hood first and immediately pulled back an arrow. He leaned over the top of the fence and looked down inside. Then he gave a quick nod to Southard, who went over the fence without hesitation. John went right behind him.

To our east, I could see movement near the grocery store.
There were dozens of zombies milling around, but they didn’t seem to have noticed us yet. Then the gate opened in front of me and I drove inside. As soon as the trailer was clear, Southard shut the gate while John and Spec-4 covered the area.

Instead of climbing back inside, Southard and John walked slowly next to the Humvee as I drove towards the east side of the building.
It looked pretty much the way we’d left it. It still seemed creepy to me, but I wanted the gear. I drove over next to the other Humvees and stopped. Then I shut down the engine and climbed out. Spec-4 left the turret open and climbed out right behind me.

“This place still scares me,” she whispered.

“Me too,” I agreed.

Southard and John walked up and joined us.
John kept turning slowly, scanning the area for movement. Southard looked a little pale.

“Let’s get what we’re taking and get the hell out of here,” he said, softly.

“I like that plan,” said John. “This place doesn’t feel right.”

I knew John was of Native American decent and I trusted his “feelings” about places and events.
John never claimed to be a shaman and I never asked. However, from some of the things he’s done in the twenty plus years I’ve know him, I’m pretty sure he was. If he wasn't, he was at least some sort of mystic. His senses and abilities bordered on the super-human at times. He could also track a deer across frozen ground without difficulty.

“Bad mojo here?” I asked
.

“Bad medicine,” John agreed, nodding briefly.

“I don’t know about all that,” said Southard, “but it sure scares the living shit out of me to be here.”

“Alright folks,” I said, “Here’s the plan.
John, go with Southard and search the vehicles. Take guns, ammo, food and water. Grab anything you can take. Spec-4 and I will check inside the church.”

“Gee thanks,” mumbled Spec-4. “Make me go where creepy lives.”

“Are we taking another Humvee?” asked Southard.

“Check the fuel levels,” I replied.
“If we can find one that has gas in it, we’ll take it with us. Once we’re clear of town, we’ll stop for gas.”

“We could empty the tanks on the deuce and a half’s,” said Southard. “Those bitches have big-assed tanks.”

“Make sure that they have diesel in them,” I said. “Technically, the engine is a multi-fuel. It’ll run on damned near anything.”

“Got it,” he replied. “I’ll check.”

“Be careful,” I added as they headed off.

“Yeah, you too,” replied John, glancing at the building.

With that, Spec-4 and I headed for the church. I slung my M-16 and let it dangle on my tactical sling. I brought up my AA-12 and readied it. I had two Berettas stuck to my interceptor vest and the big Army Colt on my hip. I’d also stuck a tactical knife on my left boot. I guess I was ready for almost anything.

As we approached the door on the south side of the church, I noticed that the body of the Colonel was gone.
Spec-4 noticed it too and gave me a wide-eyed look. I just shrugged and continued on towards the door. I checked the door over carefully before I opened it. I didn’t want to set off a trip-wire. It looked clear to me, so I tugged on the handle and it opened easily. It was dark inside, so I pulled my Stinger off my belt and clicked it on. Item number one thousand and twelve on my list of things to do: put tactical lights on my weapons.

We swept the church as quickly as we could.
Despite the eerie silence inside, we didn’t find anyone or anything. At least until we entered the chapel, itself. Inside the chapel, I could see people sitting in the pews. They were sitting in the darkness, not moving. My heart stopped beating and fear welled-up inside me, turning my blood to ice-water in my veins. I could tell by the death-grip that Spec-4 had on my arm that she felt the same way.

I swung the light around the room, slowly scanning the occupants.
I expected at any moment that a
Shrieker
would sound off and bring all of them to their feet. When that didn’t happen, I kept panning the light back and forth. There was no movement at all. I decided to move in closer. Spec-4 tugged at my arm, but I gently pulled away.

I gave her a look and a nod that said, “I’ll be careful.”

I don’t think she believed me, but brought her weapon to her shoulder anyway. At the front of the church, I could see several large coolers. They were the kind that you push the button at the bottom to get a cold drink. There were open boxes of MRE’s laying around, as well. That’s when I noticed that all of the bodies were wearing ACU’s. They were all soldiers. I also noticed that all of them had been shot in the back of the head. I did a quick head-count and came up with sixty three men.

“Oh my God,” I whispered.
“That son-of-a-bitch drugged them all, and then executed his own fucking men. He executed an entire platoon.”

I continued to pan the room.
At the back of the room was a pile of weapons, body armor and helmets. I moved down the center aisle and scanned into each pew. None of them were armed and they all had an MRE in their lap. Whatever poison he gave them, it acted pretty fast. The bastard had made sure that none of his men were infected by killing them all. That also conveniently left no witnesses to his execution of the civilians from the Evac-center.

I moved to the back of the chapel and opened the doors, letting little light inside.
I propped them open with a chair and then opened the outer doors at the end of the hall. Even more light flooded inside, dispelling a little of the eeriness. Spec-4 and I stepped out into the light, grateful to be away from the horrific scene inside.

Southard and John came trotting up when they saw us.
They could tell from the looks on our faces that something was wrong. Southard went inside, but John held back. Southard was back in a few seconds.

“Who killed all those soldiers?” he asked, shock on his face.

“I think it was that Colonel,” I replied.

“You mean executed them,” corrected Spec-4.

“Yeah, it looks like he gave them something to knock them out, then put a bullet in each of their heads,” I said, frowning.

“How do you know that?” asked Southard.

“Because I’m pretty sure that sixty men wouldn’t just sit there and let him walk from man to man putting a bullet in the back of their heads,” I replied.

“So now what?” asked Southard.

“All of their armor and gear is at the back of the chapel. We take it and get the fuck out of here,” I said, a little more harshly than I had intended.

“We found another trailer over by the parsonage,” said John.

“Cargo trailer?” asked Spec-4.

“Nope, fuel trailer.
Smells like diesel,” replied John. “There’s gotta be five hundred gallons or more in it. Do we take it with us?”

“We’ll fill our tanks and all the cans, but I don’t want to haul a fuel tank all the way to the lake and back,” I said.
“If we run into a firefight, it’ll go up like a bomb.”

“Good call,” said Southard.
“We’ll fill up the Humvees with weapons and ammo. Plus whatever MRE’s and water we can find.”

“Only take MRE’s that are still sealed,” said Spec-4. “Just in case.”

“Yeah, I don’t want anything to do with whatever poison they used here,” I agreed. “Same goes for bottled water. Only take sealed cases.”

“On it,” said Southard, and he headed off at a trot towards the Humvees.

John reluctantly went with Spec-4 and me to start bringing out guns and armor. We took our time and stripped the place. Our trailer was filled with extra food, water and gear. Weapons and ammo went into the backs of the Humvees where we could get to them quickly. We had a case of MRE’s and a case of water in each vehicle, to tide us over. I took the opportunity to switch out my interceptor vest with one that was in better shape.

It was mid-afternoon when we finally finished loading all of the gear we acquired.
I got to cross an item off of my list when we found a case of Surefire tactical lights. I didn’t waste any time in putting one on the picatinny rails of each of my weapons. I even mounted a light on the two Berettas. I couldn’t figure out how to mount one on the Army Colt, but it was for the best. It wouldn’t have fit in its holster with one, anyway.

Spec-4 made sure to yank the Blue Force tracker out of the Humvee.
Once that was done, it was time to load up and get out of Dodge. We were carrying as much fuel as we could possibly carry and more weapons and ammo than we could feasibly shoot. We also had four cases of grenades. We split them between the two vehicles. Southard walked up to me and tapped me on the shoulder.

“I’ve got a question for you.”

“Shoot,” I replied.

“I’m pretty sure that Spec-4 is going with you, so that leaves me with John,” he said.
“Can he drive a Humvee or fire a SAW?”

“John spent six years in the Air Force as a Para
-rescue Jumper,” I replied, smiling. “He’s probably better at both than either of us.”

“Oh really?
He was a PJ?” said Southard, grinning. “Then Spec-4’s all yours. I’ve got dibs on the Indian.”

“Half Indian,” corrected John from behind us. “I’m only half, thus the beard.”

Southard nearly jumped out of his skin. I just laughed. I was long since used to John’s way of showing up without warning, just when you didn’t expect it. He was like a Zen Batman, appearing calmly out of the shadows whenever you mentioned his name.

“Don’t think that since I prefer a bow that I can’t shoot a gun,” he said, grinning.

“Ok, Tonto,” said Southard, “you’re with me.”

“I’ll make you a deal,” said John. “You don’t call me Tonto and I won’t scalp you in your sleep.”

“Sounds like a deal,” said Southard, sheepishly.