Ragnarok Rising: Desolation: Book Five of the Ragnarok Rising Saga Read online

  “That’s what you call someone who makes horseshoes and shoes horses.”

  “I thought that was a blacksmith,” she replied, grinning.

  “Blacksmiths make more than just horseshoes,” I answered. “A farrier works exclusively with horses.”

  “Nice,” she said. “I guess you learn something new every day.”

  “Well, we try to,” I said, chuckling.

  “So what’s the plan, now?”

  “We let the horses eat and rest,” I replied. “If the weather holds, we head back for the Facility in the morning.”

  “What if the weather gets ugly, again?”

  “Then we may be stuck here until spring,” I said, shaking my head. “Or until the food runs out.”

  “How long will that be?”

  “Not very long,” I replied, darkly. “We need to get back home as soon as we can.”

  Chapter Two

  Jotunheim

  “From his weapons on the open road, no man should step one pace away.”

  - The Havamal

  I awoke just before dawn to find the fire had burned low. I rekindled the fire in the living room, but decided to let the fires in the two stoves burn out. We would be leaving in a couple hours and there was no sense in heating the entire house. I slipped from under my blankets and began putting on my gear as quietly as I could. I didn’t want to wake Spec-4. I was planning on letting her sleep as long as possible. We had a difficult ride ahead of us today and she would need her strength.

  Slipping out into the garage, I saddled and readied the horses. I estimated we had almost ten miles to go in heavy snow, before we were back at the Facility. We could easily ride that in a day without three feet of snow on the ground, but I wasn’t sure how far we’d make it before we had to rest for the night. I wanted to get going as soon as we could so we could cover as much ground as possible.

  After the horses were readied, I slipped back inside to scrounge for supplies. There were numerous cans in the cabinet, but I didn’t really feel like eating green beans or corn as a meal. Instead, I grabbed four cans of Spam and sat them on the counter. I wasn’t especially looking forward to eating the Spam, but beggars can’t be choosers. The vegetables went into my pack.

  I was just about to give up on finding any decent supplies, when something caught my eye. Behind a stack of plates in the corner of the cabinet, I caught a glimpse of something shiny. When I moved the plates, I discovered a bottle of Jack Daniels Black Label. It was about three quarters full, but I wasn’t complaining. That would do nicely to warm the old bones on the road. I took a moment to refill my hip flask from the bottle and then tucked the rest into my pack.

  The sun was beginning to appear on the horizon as I checked out the windows to make sure the area was clear; at least as much of the sun as we saw these days. It was more like a slightly brighter hazy spot. Satisfied that there weren’t any immediate threats in the area, I turned to wake up Spec-4. She was already awake, but still under her covers.

  “I’m up,” she said, reluctantly pushing the blankets back.

  “Good,” I replied. “I want to get moving as soon as possible.”

  We shared a can of the Spam and the last of the oatmeal. I wanted to get something with meat in it into our systems, because we were going to need the protein and fat to help keep us warm. Spec-4 made a sour face when she took her first bite, but kept eating.

  “What’s in this?” she muttered. “This stuff is gross.”

  “It tastes about like it always does,” I replied. “I’ve always been of the opinion that Spam was an acronym. It stands for Squirrels, Pigeons and Mice.”

  “Nasty,” she said, laughing.

  Once we finished eating, we put on all of our cold weather gear and shouldered our packs. After a quick weapons check, we headed out to the horses. I decided to take a bag of feed and two of the blankets with us. I rolled them up together and tied them to the back of my saddle. It was extra weight, but we’d need the feed if we had to spend another night out here.

  After removing the improvised locks, I pushed the door open enough to take a peek outside. Once I decided that we were clear, it took all of my strength to push the door open against all of the accumulated snow. Then it was just a matter of leading the horses out and closing the door behind us.

  I had to help Spec-4 into the saddle because she couldn’t keep her footing in the snow. Then I slid into my own saddle and settled into the seat. There wasn’t much wind, so I slipped my shemagh into place and prepared to move. Spec-4 followed suit and slipped on her own shemagh. Then we headed off.

  I took the lead and let Ebon plow the path for Spec-4 and Willow to follow. The progress was slow, but it was still progress. I wasn’t going to complain because even moving slowly brought us closer to home. Sitting still got us nowhere. From our pace, I realized that we probably wouldn’t make it back to the Facility by nightfall. That meant another night out in the cold. If we could avoid the Frostbiters, then we might make it through.

  I was only barely able to recognize landmarks, with all the snow on the ground. I made certain to mentally mark where the farmhouse had been so we could return for the gear I’d found in the barn. We could definitely use the forge and the anvil. The tack would come in handy, as well. All in all, there was plenty there that made it worth the fuel expense to return with a truck.

  We were conserving our fuel as much as possible. We’d scavenged all we could find, but there was going to come a point when there just wasn’t any left for us to scavenge. Wherever we went, we looked for fuel tanks or gas stations that hadn’t been looted clean or burned down. Many stations had been completely drained of fuel in the mad dash for safety that marked the opening days of the Reckoning.

  So, to make our limited fuel supply stretch as far as we could, we gathered horses from nearby farms and used them whenever possible. We were lucky to find the four Percherons, but the other horses we found were smaller quarter horses. They were useful, but not really cut out to ride in this kind of weather. We kept them in reserve for when we needed pack animals.

  We were just beginning to make our own bio-diesel and gasohol from distilled alcohol. It wasn't as efficient, but it ran the engines. The Humvees would run on damned near anything, anyway. We could worry about fuel economy later. Right now, just keeping the vehicles moving was an accomplishment. Eventually, we were going to have to face the fact that we wouldn't have any vehicles left to use. That's when the horses would really come into play.

  It worked pretty well, so long as the zombies stayed frozen. The Frostbiters were another story, altogether. At least they were slow and that gave us an advantage. No one could come up with any rational explanation as to why they were moving, at all. It defied all logic. They should have been frozen solid. Whatever malevolent force was keeping them moving was beyond our understanding.

  Whenever we passed a zombie that was frozen, I always took the opportunity to smash its head in with my hammer. There was no sense in wasting the ammo and I didn’t want to risk them thawing out and coming back. I might as well take as many out as I could, while I could. That meant that the more we took out now, the less we had to deal with come spring.

  We rode for a few hours, keeping our pace slow so as not to tire out the horses overly much. From the best I could guess, we were nearing the edge of Phillipsburg. We were passing a lot of abandoned cars that were only vague shapes hidden beneath the blanket of snow. Ahead of us, I could see the overpass that crossed over the interstate. It wasn’t a major interchange, so it was mostly clear of cars. It was an outer road that ran between two larger roads, and didn’t have direct access to the interstate.

  There was a barricade blocking the bridge that led into town and saw-horses blocking the road on this end. I could see what looked to be a pair of patrol cars blocking the other end. Since we hadn’t come this way when we were on our way out, I thought it might not be a bad idea to check the two vehicles.

  As we edged out onto the
bridge, Ebon’s ears perked up and he started tossing his head from side to side, snorting softly. Clearly, he was sensing something. Whatever it was, I doubted that it was something good. I reined to a stop and started looking around, but I didn’t see any signs of movement or danger. There were no tracks in the snow, other than ours.

  I glanced back at Spec-4 and noticed that Willow was acting the same way as Ebon. There was definitely something wrong here. Spec-4 had sensed it, too. She took out her M-4 and checked the load. I followed suit and went back to scanning the area around us. Then I heard a creaking sound that I hadn’t heard a moment before. Quickly, I zeroed in on its location. It was coming from the other side of the patrol cars.

  From out of the trees on the far side of the bridge emerged three Frostbiters. At first, they seemed to just be walking along. It looked like they would continue on without seeing us when the one at the rear turned its head and noticed us. Slowly, it cocked its head from side to side, as if considering what we were. Then it opened its mouth and let out a low moan. This got the attention of the other two and they all turned towards us.

  “Shit,” I muttered. “So much for them not seeing us.”

  “We can outrun them,” said Spec-4. “They’re too slow to catch us.”

  “I don’t know about that,” I replied. “Not in this snow. I think we’d better drop them.”

  Raising my M-4 to my shoulder, I took careful aim at the lead Frostbiter. I was glad I’d taken the time to get Ebon and Willow accustomed to gunfire. Even with the training, Ebon still jerked his head and shifted his weight nervously when I pulled the trigger. My shot struck the leader in the forehead, snapping its head back. I waited for it to fall, but watched in horror as it merely rocked back on its feet and raised its head. I could see a wound in the thing’s head, but it didn’t fall.

  “What the hell?” gasped Spec-4. “Why didn’t it fall?”

  “It’s frozen,” I replied. “I don’t think the bullets will penetrate.”

  “What do we do now?”

  “Either we try to out run them, or I use my hammer,” I answered. “I can shatter their skulls with a good hit.”

  “Or you could get dragged to the ground and eaten,” she said, shaking her head.

  “That’s not my first choice,” I said, watching the Frostbiters growing closer.

  “Whatever we’re going to do,” she said, “we’d better do it quick. They’re closing pretty fast.”

  I thought about it for a second and began readying my hammer.

  “How bad do you want the gear in those cars?” she asked.

  “We need all the ammo we can get our hands on,” I replied. “Even if it’s just a couple boxes of 9mm, it’s worth the risk.”

  “I hope you’re right,” she said, not sounding convinced.

  With that, I leapt off of Ebon and headed towards the Frostbiters. She was right about them. They were moving faster than I thought they should be. They were taller than I thought they should be, too. As I got closer, I could see that they were covered with layers of ice that had built up on one another. It had to add several inches to their height from what was built up on their feet, alone. There was minimal ice build-up on the areas that moved, like the arms, knees and hips. Everything else was covered with a thick layer of ice.

  As I reached the patrol cars, I stepped up onto the hood of the nearest one and then climbed onto the roof. When the first one came into range, I jumped into the air and brought the hammer down on top of its head with all the force I could muster. With a crack like thunder, the head exploded into shards of gore and ice. It staggered and then fell over backwards, moving no more.

  The second one was already reaching for me. I side-stepped from its grasp and slammed the hammer down on its left hand, shattering three fingers. It didn’t seem to notice and turned to pursue me. I stood by the guardrail and waited for it to close within striking distance. As it reached for me again, I ducked under its arms and slipped behind it. Then I drove my shoulder into its back and shoved as hard as I could.

  At first, it felt like I was trying to move a brick wall. Then I felt it lose its balance and pitch forward. With another shove, I sent it tumbling over the edge of the bridge and down thirty feet to the interstate below. It struck the roof of a car with a resounding crunch that seemed to echo off into the distance. It didn’t move anymore.

  I turned to find the third one was nearly on top of me. Instinctively, I dove to the left and put the patrol car between us. It kept coming with all the relentlessness of a juggernaut. Through the ice on its chest, I could see a badge shining in the morning sun. It wasn’t the badge of a Lacland County Deputy. At first, it didn’t register what I was seeing. Then recognition struck and I realized I was looking at a Lebanon Firefighter.

  I backpedaled on my back through the snow, trying to put some distance between us. It seemed to be moving faster than it had been, just a few moments before. I was having trouble regaining my feet and it just kept getting closer and closer. It wasn’t going to be long before it caught me.

  Three rapid shots rang out as Spec-4 put a burst into it, to get the attention off of me. It was all the distraction I needed. Lunging to my feet, I spun the hammer on its thong and prepared to throw. With a grating sound not unlike the creaking of glass, it turned its head to look right at me. For a moment, I could see something in the eyes. There was something there, more so than the empty orbs of a normal zombie. Then I released the hammer on its deadly trajectory.

  The glittering piece of steel streaked through the distance between us, heading right for the head of the monster. Then, with a sudden surge of speed, it swung its hand like a club and knocked the hammer aside. I watched in horror as it bounced off the arm and sailed away into the distance, landing down on the interstate and out of my sight. My hammer was gone. I would've been lucky to find it, even without all the snow on the ground. Recovering it was going to be impossible.

  Spec-4 fired another burst, but this time it ignored her and came for me. Ice covered fingers that looked as sharp as daggers reached for me and I felt my heart rise into my throat. I knew I was looking at something entirely new. These things weren’t the mindless zombies that we’d dealt with before. Something about them kept them moving despite being frozen and there was a feral intelligence in them. That thought scared me more than a dozen Sprinters ever had.

  Just as it was leaning over me, I drew the XVR and shot it point blank in the face. Ice and frozen flesh erupted from where the thing’s mouth had been. As it staggered back, I pressed the advantage. I cocked the hammer and shot it again and again. By the fourth round, the head was coming apart. The fifth round caused the head to explode in shards of grey, red and brown.

  I rolled to the side as it pitched forward and fell where I had been lying. I lay there in the deep snow, my breath heaving in my chest. My ears were ringing from the gunfire and the adrenalin that was now coursing through my veins. It took me several moments to realize that Spec-4 was calling my name. I shook my head to clear it and turned to look at her.

  “Wylie!” she cried. “Are you ok?”

  I sat up slowly, my head still swimming from the adrenalin. With my breath exploding into great clouds of steam, I raised my left hand and gave her a thumbs-up. Under the circumstances, it was the best I could muster. I sat there for a long moment, catching my breath and letting my heart rate subside. Once I was breathing somewhat more normally, I got unsteadily to my feet and knocked the worst of the snow off of me.

  With shaking hands, I slowly reloaded my pistol and slipped the expended brass into my pocket. I now saved my brass, since we had a reloading kit at the Facility. I couldn’t afford to waste the brass anymore. With the revolver reloaded, I turned to Spec-4 and motioned for her to come up and join me.

  “Are you going looking for your hammer?” she asked, getting off of her horse.

  “It’s gone,” I said, sadly. “I’ll never find it in all of this snow. I didn’t even see where it landed.”
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  “Me either,” she replied. “What do we do, now?”

  “We search these two cars and get the fuck out of here,” I said, removing my combat knife from my belt. “We need to get moving before more of those bastards show up.”

  With a swift motion, I struck the nearest window with the pommel of the knife. The window shattered instantly, sending snow and glass into the interior of the car. I reached in through the open window and recovered a police shotgun, then opened the glove box. There was a box of 9mm ammo inside and a small first aid kid. I grabbed both.

  “Did you ever consider checking to see if the door was unlocked?” asked Spec-4, grinning.

  I reached down and grabbed the door handle. Much to my surprise, it opened with only a little crunching as the ice broke free. I glanced back at her and gave her a sheepish grin.

  “See,” she chided, “you don’t have to break everything.”

  “That's half the fun,” I replied, grinning beneath my shemagh.

  I grabbed the keys out of the ignition and headed for the back of the car. After knocking the snow off, I had to strike the edges of the trunk to break the ice free. Then it popped open easily. Inside I found a box of flares, two boxes of shotgun shells and the officer’s go-bag. All of it went with my gear on Ebon’s back. The second car didn’t yield as much gear. There was another box of shotgun shells and another riot gun. I added those to the other gear on the horse.

  Climbing back into the saddle, we edged around the parked cars and continued on our way. I nervously watched the trees where the Frostbiters emerged until we were well past it. We rode in silence, listening to the sounds of the horses crunching through the snow and hoping not to hear the sounds of approaching dead.

  It was nearly mid-day when we reached a major intersection. The names of the highways were irrelevant now. The only thing that mattered was getting back to the Facility. Unfortunately, that was still several miles away. We were making better progress than I had anticipated, though. We might not make it back by dark, but we’d be a Hel of a lot closer than I thought we’d be.