The Reckoning - 02 (34 page)

             
I felt the blood pouring through my veins and roaring in my ears. Bjorgolf met my gaze one last time and then we charged. With a roar that matched the thunder that still rolled around us, we surged forward as one. If we fell tonight, then even the Gods would remember this battle! Once more, our fierce battle cry resounded as we clashed with the dead!

             
“Victory or Valhalla!”

“There is nothing impossible to him who will try.”

- Alexander the Great

21 April

              I awoke long before the alarm on my watch was set to go off. It was still dark outside. I could see the red glow to the east that would soon be dawn. The storm had broken sometime during the night and only clouds and water remained. Down below, there were only a few zombies milling around. Something had drawn them off while I slept. I only hoped that it wasn’t our friends at the Underground.

             
Rising from the bed, I picked up my flashlight. My trusty Stinger was losing its charge. With no way to recharge it, it would soon be useless. The Hive in the Underground still had power, so I could recharge it there. Assuming we made it back. Until then, I was going to have to find a suitable replacement. That shouldn’t be a problem since there were plenty of tactical lights downstairs.

             
I dug into my pack and pulled out my backup light. It was a small hand cranked light that didn’t take batteries. It was a good emergency light, but the LED bulbs in it weren’t very bright. I much preferred my Stinger. I cranked it for a few moments and turned it on. It illuminated the darkness enough to see by, but not overly well. Oh well, it was going to have to do.

             
Pausing only to buckle on the Colt, I padded out of the room in my socks. Spec-4 was still asleep and I didn’t have the heart to wake her up. I leaned into the small bathroom and was happy to find that there was still enough pressure in the lines to get water. It was cold, but it was wet. I took the opportunity to use the restroom and then crept downstairs.

In the knife case
, I found what I sought. It was a straight razor like my grandfather used to use. It was in a boxed set with the ceramic shaving mug, a bar of shaving soap and a leather razor strop. I also took the opportunity to snag a couple of tactical lights. They were much brighter than my little hand-crank light.

             
Returning to the bathroom, I turned on a tactical light and sat it on the sink, pointing up to illuminate the entire room. I looked into the mirror and had to frown. I looked terrible. Several new scars marked my face as well as grime, blood and several days’ growth of beard. I’d already decided that I was keeping the goatee.

             
I stripped to the waist in front of the little mirror and placed my torn-up shirt on the floor to soak up the water. Then I started cleaning myself as best I could with water from the sink. I found a bottle of anti-bacterial hand soap on the back of the sink and used it to scrub the worst of the grime from my face and chest. It wasn’t a great job, but it was better than nothing. Adding some water to the shaving mug, I used the little brush to work up some lather.

             
Using the brush to apply the foam to my face and head, I covered it as best I could. Then I used the strop to make sure the straight razor was sharp. Carefully, I started shaving the growth from my face and rinsing it in the sink. I made sure to shave around the edge of my goatee. Shaving my head was going to be difficult. Just as I was contemplating trying it, Spec-4 slipped into the room behind me.

             
“Having fun?” she asked, smiling at me.

             
“Just trying to make myself look human again,” I said, grinning.

             
“Here,” she said, holding out her hand. “Let me help you.”

             
Reluctantly, I handed her the razor and sat down on the toilet seat. Gently, she began shaving my head with the straight razor. In minutes, she’d cleared away the stubble and only nicked me twice. I was impressed. I expected that I would give myself a couple new scars before it was over.

             
“Thanks,” I said, wiping away the rest of the lather with a hand towel. “You’re pretty good with that thing.”

             
“No problem,” she said. “I grew up watching my grandpa shave with one of these. Now if you don’t mind. I’d like to have a moment of privacy.”

             
Chuckling, I collected my gear and stepped out of the bathroom, shutting the door behind me. Since I didn’t have any clean clothes to put on, I headed into the little bedroom I’d used and started gathering my gear. There was enough light from the rising sun to see by in the little room. The sky was blood red with clouds hanging low in the sky. It looked ominous.

“
Red sky at night, sailor's delight,”
I whispered.

“
Red sky at morning, sailors take warning,”
finished Spec-4, stepping into the room.

             
“I had a feeling it was a bad omen,” I said, not turning around.

             
She slipped up behind me and put her arms around me, her fingers running gently up and down my bare chest. I felt her cheek against the skin between my shoulder blades. Her breath sent shivers up and down my spine.

             
“Thank you for saving me,” she said, softly.

             
I gently took her hands in mine and gave them a squeeze. I didn’t want to turn around. Partially because of the temptation I was feeling and partially out of fear of weakness.

             
“No problem,” I replied, my voice a little huskier than I planned. “You would have done the same for me.”

             
“I heard you praying for me,” she said.

             
Eloquently, I said nothing.

             
She removed her hands from mine and began caressing my back. I could feel her fingers tracing patterns along the skin. Patterns I knew that covered the network of scar tissue that crisscrossed my back and shoulders. I could remember each and every one of them. More than a few of them I’d gotten while she was with me. I wondered if she remembered them as vividly as I did.

             
“So many scars,” she said with sadness in her voice. “I know most of the recent ones.”

             
“Scars are the wounds we show the world,” I said. “Some scars are on the inside.”

             
I gently guided her back to the little bed and helped her lay down. Then I covered her with a blanket. She looked both disappointed and relieved at the same time. I felt like I was about to explode. I leaned down and gently kissed her on the forehead. My lips detected a slight fever. I’ve checked my sons for a fever like that since they were babies.

             
“Lay here and rest,” I said. “We don’t have to travel today. Your leg needs time to heal before we can move.”

             
“Stay with me?” she asked, her eyes pleading with mine.

             
“I’ll be close by,” I answered. “I promise.”

             
Snagging my flashlight from the bathroom, I took my boots downstairs to finish getting dressed. I found a rack of t-shirts and selected one that looked to be about my size. It was a black t-shirt with a Rangers Lead the Way logo on it. I smiled and placed it back on the rack. I wasn’t a Ranger. I didn’t earn the right to wear that shirt. Selecting another one that said Army Strong on it, I slipped it over my head. I’d earned that one.

             
Finding a chair, I slipped my tactical boots on and zipped the sides. Walking around the main room, I took a mental inventory of the weapons inside. We were going to need a big truck if we were going to empty this place. I’m not sure we could do it alone. Well, we could but it would take more time than we had. It would take a full team to empty this place. I was going to have to come back here and clear it out before the
Freemen
did. We needed the arms and ammo too badly.

             
In the back room, I found a coil of nylon rope. I started tying climbing knots in it every few feet. Double overhand knots were easy and would serve well to help me climb the rope unassisted. That would be vital with Spec-4 out of the fight for the next day or so. I’d found plenty of guns and ammo in here, but no food. If we were going to be here for a couple days, we needed to eat. I was already feeling the effects of not eating. We both needed our strength, especially with her being wounded.

             
I selected several boxes of ammo and magazines for my various weapons. Then I headed back upstairs and began reloading all of my empty magazines and ammo pouches. Breaking out my cleaning kit, I gave all of my guns a thorough cleaning. The newest edition to my collection, the HK 91, looked like it hadn’t been cleaned in ages. It took a while to set it right.

             
Once I was satisfied with the state of my firearms, I reloaded them all and replaced them in their holsters. I needed my pack empty if I was going to make a food run, so I cleared out everything but the ammo. I finished by putting my body armor back on. I was checking it in the mirror in the little office to make sure I had it on right when I heard Spec-4 behind me.

             
“Going somewhere?”

             
“I’m planning a food run,” I answered, without looking up. “We don’t have anything to eat.”

             
“Were you planning on telling me or just slipping out while I slept?” she said, petulantly.

             
“Well, I was planning on slipping out,” I replied. “I figured you’d never agree to let me go alone.”

             
“You figured right,” she replied, shaking her head.

             
“I can move faster alone,” I said. “Besides that, you’re in no shape to climb down a rope or run. We need to eat.”

             
“Where do you plan on going? The supermarket across the street was overran, remember?”

             
“I remember,” I said, adjusting my armor. “I was thinking about the Stop ‘N’ Rob across the street. Its close, it’s mostly clear and I should be able to get in and out quickly.”

             
“I’m going with you,” she said, defiantly.

             
“No way,” I said, turning around. “I won’t risk tearing open your leg.”

             
“Then we’re at an impasse,” she said, putting her hands on her hips.

             
It might have been more intimidating if she’d been wearing more clothes.

             
“How about this,” I said, suppressing a grin, “you get dressed and I’ll go downstairs and get that Winchester Model 70 I saw down there. It has a big scope on it and you can cover me from the window.”

             
She had to smile, too.

             
“You mean I can’t play naked sniper?” she said, blushing.

             
“Up to you,” I said. “But I bet that floor will be cold on your butt.”

             
“Good point,” she agreed. “I’ll get dressed while you get the gun. Grab plenty of ammo.”

             
“Yeah, yeah,” I said, heading out the door.

             
By the time I made it back upstairs with the rifle and a dozen boxes of ammo, she was dressed and waiting for me.

             
“Are you sure the scope is sighted in properly?” she asked as I handed her the big deer rifle.

             
“No,” I said, less than reassuringly. “Just make sure your first shot isn’t close to me. You can adjust it as needed. Just make sure you don’t shoot me by mistake.”

             
“Don’t worry,” she said, grinning. “If I shoot you, it won’t be an accident. I promise.”

             
“Gee, I feel so much better now.”

             
I grabbed my pack, weapons and the rope. Climbing out onto the roof, I headed back the way we’d came up. It would be the easiest way to go. Moving slowly so I wouldn’t attract too much attention, I tied off the rope to the upper level and tossed it down to the next. Then I climbed down and took the extra rope and tossed it down to the ground beside the dumpster. Strangely, there weren’t any zombies in the immediate area.

             
The sky above me had faded to a rosy pink with the sun climbing higher. In a couple hours, it would be high enough to burn through most of the cloud cover. Then it would get hot and humid. With what I was about to attempt, I kind of wished it was still raining. With one last look around for threats, I headed down the rope to the ground level. Once on the ground, I did a weapons check. The guns were in their place, as was my hammer and sword. I was as ready as I was ever going to be.

             
Crouching low behind the dumpster, I crept along the back wall and out to the edge of the building by the street. There were a few zombies milling around by the front entrance to the supermarket, but I couldn’t see any near the convenience store. I could see the burnt out ruin that had been our Humvees and the panel truck. There was still smoke rising from the debris. Shaking my head, I put it out of my mind. I had other problems to attend to at the moment.