RAGNAROK
BY: ANNIEO

Chapter Two
Heaven And Hell

Once more we hear the word
That sickened earth of old:
"No law except the sword
Unsheathed and uncontrolled,"
Once more it knits mankind,
Once more the nations go
To meet and break and bind
A crazed and driven foe.
    Comfort, content, delight --
    The ages' slow-bought gain --
    They shrivelled in a night,
    Only ourselves remain
    To face the naked days
    In silent fortitude,
    Through perils and dismays
    Renewd and re-renewed.
*From the poem, For all we have and are’ By Rudyard Kipling

* * * * * * * *

  Silence…

  Deafening, encompassing everything around it within its iron grip. Once, long ago, a person would have heard the songs of both bird and insect among stands of large trees, but now, nothing. It was as if even nature herself had abandoned all hope for a future. Few traveled the dead lands, they were said to be cursed… men were known to have disappeared into them and never returned. Lt. Michael Long laughed at these stories. He had little need of the tales told among the civilians or the troops. He had one mission: To follow orders and complete his mission. It was to this silent, lifeless wasteland that orders brought him and his men. Endlessly they marched, the hot summer sun’s rays beating down and reflecting off the ground as a wind turned up the thick red dust that seemed to cling to everything.

  “Sir,” The point man saluted sharply as he jogged up to the Lieutenant. “There’s some movement up ahead.”

  “Take one other and find out what it is.” Michael ordered before motioning for his radio officer to step forward. “Smith, O’Mally, and Quinn, set up a perimeter. I don’t want anything sneaking up on us.”

  “Sir.” One of the men motioned for his attention and pointed to the hilltop above them. “I thought all the wildlife out here had been killed?”

  “Apparently not,” Michael said as he brought his binoculars to bear on the figure sitting above them. “Just a lone wolf, nothing to worr-“

  The single shot sliced through the air and ripped into the man that had pointed to the wolf, throwing him to the ground. “Sniper! Take cover!” Michael screamed as he dived behind a low boulder. But before the words were out of his mouth, two more shoots rang out in rapid succession, striking down two other men with deadly accuracy as they tried to find cover behind the sparse rocks.

  “Sir!” Quinn shouted from his position. “North face!” He motioned with a scraped and bloody hand to the glint of light that reflected in the setting sun.

  Michael nodded curtly. “Take O’Mally with you. I’ll cover. Go!” He flipped himself on his belly and set his rifle on the rock to sight on the cliff face. He fired randomly, intent to keeping the sniper pinned long enough for his men to get around. Smith had been dead before he hit the ground. The sound of another man crying out in agony fell off to whimpers and then silence.

  “Dad. Two coming from the southwest.”

  Low-Light turned from his perch behind a crop of rocks he had built up for a screen and glanced at his son. He was in a similar position off to Low-Light’s right in a small crevice, facing the trail that led to the vantage point. The Joe tugged on the string that jiggled a small mirror far to his left and down the slope to flash the sunlight in the decoy position. He smiled grimly as he was rewarded with gunfire ricocheting off the cliff face. “Don’t worry, Shane. Snake Eyes will handle the two easy enough. You see any more slitherin’ down there?”

  The boy squinted into the sight on his sniper rifle. “One, far as I can see. Looks like the one who was leading. Six to start, two coming up from below, that’s four, three dead, and one alive. Six.” He recited.

  Low-Light nodded. He had one kill, and his son had two. He hated the fact that his boy had to learn about killing at such a young age. But at thirteen, he was no longer a boy, and he hadn’t been since he was nine and he was forced to kill a man to protect his mother. What scared Low-Light was that his son was as good a shot as him, but did it with more lethal efficiency that didn’t faze him in the least. “Position of scouters?” he asked.

  “Just coming up on Snake Eyes post. Almost there…” Shane paused, the grinned. “Two more Cobras gone to hell.”

  “Shane!” Low-Light said sharply.

  His son looked away from his hard glare, reddening in the face. “Snake Eyes is signaling,” he said contritely.

  “Okay. Stage two. And we take him alive.”

  “I know, I know.” The boy wiggled back from the cliff face, well out of the line of fire. Low-Light did the same, tying the string to a scrub brush that was moving just enough in the breeze to trigger the dupe. The pair slung their rifles over their shoulders and made their way down the trail to join up with Snake-Eyes. Shane looked at the two men rendered lifeless with a snap of the neck. “Cool. You have gotta teach me how to do that,” he exclaimed to the silent Joe.

  Low-Light pressed his lips together into a thin line, but said nothing. Snake-Eyes replaced his knife into its sheath and motioned towards the remaining Cobra, indicating for Shane to remain and give cover if needed. The boy’s blue eyes narrowed slightly and he looked as if he was going to argue before he nodded and settled into the alcove Snake-Eyes had just vacated.

  “Five minutes,” Low-Light ordered, “Any longer and you head for camp.” He waited until Shane nodded affirmative before following Snake-Eyes.

  Michael nervously searched the open cliff face, his men had been gone too long and it was too quiet. His eyes darted around, attempting to find any sign of the sniper. All he could see in the other wise empty surroundings was the lone wolf that still stood statue like on the rocks above. He slowly raised his head above what little cover the rock was offering him, and just as quickly pulled it back down as a shot spit dirt and rock chips at him from the ground in front of him. “They’re holding me here. But why?” He asked himself as he checked his ammo. He didn’t have long before he found out.

  Snake-Eyes silently made his way across the small valley the cliff face had created, using the shadows of the now setting sun for cover. His sharp eyes had already spotted his quarry behind the stone pile and Low-Light’s position not far from his own. He moved with a natural grace that defined the type of warrior he was and told of the predator that existed within. He waited until the Cobra had turned to again observe his surroundings, and struck.

  “I gotta get out of this.” Michael thought as he again glanced around and spotted a second pile of rocks that would give him sufficient shelter from the sniper’s fire. “Okay, got one chance at this,” he muttered to himself as he tensed his muscles to make the dash. He had no warning of the shadow that dropped down upon him, throwing him flat to the ground and kicking his weapon out of reach in one quick motion. He instinctively moved to jump up, and found the barrel of a sniper rifle aiming between his eyes.

  “One move and you won’t know what hit ya.” Low-light snarled, his eyes narrowing menacingly.

  Michael looked up to the voice. “Do you know who I am?!” He demanded as he was roughly flipped over and felt his hands being tied. His eyes were covered with a blindfold. He fought to keep his balance as he was pulled to his feet. “I’m a Cobra…”

  The sniper laughed, low and gravelly. “I don’t give a damn who or what you are. All I care about it what you know.”

* * * * * * * * *

  “I said, keep ‘em up.” One of their captures motioned with their gun.

  “Take it easy, kid,” Clutch reasoned as he raised his hands higher. “We ain’t the enemy.”

  The kid snickered, “Yeah and Cobra Commander’s a Saint. Y’all got any other friends ‘round here?” he asked, his eyes roving around the open tarmac.

  Clutch and Grunt both saw the opening at the same moment and with a silent signal both moved. With reflexes honed from years of combat Clutch darted and tackled his captor. “Now, let’s see wha’ we got here.” He reached and yanked off the combat helmet, and stopped short, staring at what he found.

  “Get off me!” The struggling kid demanded from beneath his greater weight.

  He found himself staring into the dark brown eyes of a girl, who couldn’t be a day over fourteen. The long brown hair had been piled under her helmet now cascaded around her face. “You’re a…”

  “Best do what she said, Pard.” Clutch froze when he felt the cold steel of a revolver against his ear. “Ya got two seconds to get offa her.” Slowly Clutch raised his hands and stood, releasing the girl.

  “Now turn ‘round.”

  “Look, I don’t know who you people are but we ain’t-- Bill?!” Clutch stopped halfway through his turn when he recognized the man now holding him at gunpoint. Yes, the man looked older, his brown hair now speckled with gray and his mustache gone, but there was no doubt in Clutch’s mind that the man before him was Wild Bill. His eyes quickly darted around the tarmac and found Grunt in the same predicament as himself, except another kid held a gun on the other Joe.

  Wild Bill’s eyes widened for the briefest of moments, then he quickly shunted the surprise of seeing a ghost before him. Concentrating on the girl who was getting back to her feet, he called, “Cammy? Jeb? Ya a’right?”

  “Yeah,” The boy Grunt had taken down muttered as he got to his feet, accepting his weapon from his older brother.

  “Yeah, jus’ bruised a little.” She retrieved her rifle and came to stand beside Bill. “How does he know who ya are, daddy?”

  “Why don’t we find out?” He indicated the boy covering Grunt with a jerk of his head. “Dustin, go and check the control room, make sure there ain’t any others sneakin' about.” The boy, whom Clutch thought looked like a younger version of Bill, nodded and took off at a quick lope. “Now, I seem to remember askin' ya a question. Who are ya and what are ya doin’ here?”

  Grunt sighed “Look, you wouldn’t believe me if I told you the truth.”

  “Try me.”

  “Daddy,” The girl said as she reached up to her ear, where Clutch noticed the earpiece for the first time. “Cobra patrol heading our way.”

  He nodded, “Inside,” he motioned with his gun. “I know just the place we can sit a spell and have a nice chat.”

* * * * * * * *

  To any who passed it, it was like any other building that lined to dark, barren streets. Its walls scarred, windows cracked and broken, its foundation crumbling. For Sarah-Ann McCorben it was home, one of many that she had claimed over the years. She pulled open the door and entered the dank interior, grabbing the small flashlight kept by it before moving on through the hallways and down to the lower levels. She passed the others that claimed the dim interiors as shelter, nodding at those she knew and noting those she didn’t. She moved until she came to a door at the end of the passage, one no different from the others that lined it. Glancing over her shoulder, more out of habit than need, she pulled the door open and slid inside, securing it behind her. Once inside she leaned against the wall, and closed her eyes, letting a slow breath out.

  “That bad?” The voice said from the shadows.

  Sarah jumped slightly, but just as quickly relaxed as she recognized the voice. “One of these days your gonna give me a heart attack.” She chided the voice, her thick southern accent heavy with fatigue.

  The voice laughed lightly. “And have that husband of yours kill me? I don’t think so Sarah.”

  Sarah smiled to herself despite the pang of longing for her husband. “What can I do for you Daniel?”

  Daniel LeClair stepped from the shadows. “We need some supplies.” He held a list out to her and she took it. “Mostly the usual stuff.”

  She glanced over the list, nodding to herself as she did. “How soon?” She asked without taking her eyes off it.

  “Duke wants a pick up in the next few days. The medical supplies are priority. Those, if nothing else.”

  She jotted down a few notes on the paper, before moving and placing it in a box hidden behind a loose stone. “It will be in the usual spot in three days.” She turned back to him. “How are they?”

  He moved forward and laid a comforting hand on her shoulder. “They’re all fine Sarah. The kids miss you.”

  She sighed. “Can you give them something for me?” She reached back into the hiding hole and pulled out a package. “It’s a late Christmas present.”

  He took the package, “I’ll make sure they get it.”

  “And tell them I miss them too.”

  He nodded and smiled again before turning back to the shadows. “They already know that.”

  She found herself alone again in the small cramped room. Once more, she reached into the hidey-hole and pulled out an old photo. Lovingly, she ran her fingers over the glass that covered it, her eyes misting slightly as she did so. It’ll be over one day, and I’ll come home, she told herself as she replaced the photo and placed the stone firmly back into its spot. Then Sarah-Ann McCorben, the woman once known as Dallas, left the dark, lonely room.

* * * * * * *

  “Thanks for coming Duke,” Flint said as he shook the man’s hand as he and Shana entered with the twins. “Asia was hoping you’d bring the girls.”

  Shana smiled, “We wouldn’t have missed it for anything Dash. It’s nice to have something to think about aside from what supplies are low and who to send on patrol.”

  “Go play Mommy?” Audra asked as she glanced over and saw Asia already playing with several other children.

  “Go ahead, just don’t get into to much trouble.” Both girls nodded and as one turned and sprinted over to the group of children playing in one of the corners. “How is she doing Dash?”

  Flint’s smile faded quickly from his face. “Doc says she’s getting worse. He doesn’t think she’ll make it another two years without better medical care.” He glanced over at the dark haired girl quietly playing with some of the other children.

  Shana gently placed a hand on his shoulder. “Flint, if you ever need anything...”

  “Yeah I know.” He smiled at her to take the sting out of his words. “Thanks.”

  “Duke!” Mainframe called as he came running around the corner. “We gotta problem.”

* * * * * * * * *

  Shit! Clair Abernathy cursed silently as she and her partner quickly pulled themselves into the shadows. “What the hell are the Dreadnocks snooping around here for?” She asked in a low voice to the man standing next to her.

  “Whatever the reason it ain’t good.” The man’s dark eyes quickly glanced about, checking the shadows around them. “And if there here Zartan ain't far behind.”

  “We need to get out of here Mark.”

  “No way both of us will make it, and it looks like they already picked up Galvin.” He motioned to the teenager struggling in Buzzer and Thrasher’s grip. “I’ll draw them off and try to get Gav out. You go and contact base.”

  Clair’s green eyes narrowed slightly and she looked for a moment as if she was going to refuse. After a moment she said, “I’ll be back, I promise.” She quickly squeezed his hand before turning and fading into the shadows.

  Marcus Armbuster watched his partner as she slowly disappeared before turning back to the Cobras. He watched as Ripper and Torch tore gleefully through the small shack his team had called home, and silently prayed they didn’t find the entrance to the cellar. If they did, he and his team were as good as dead. There are days I wished I never volunteered for this. He thought as he slowly moved, always keeping to the shadows. But after what those bastards did to you Brad…He froze suddenly in both thought and motion when a slight movement caught his peripheral vision. Shit...Zartan!

  “Well, well what have we here?” the Cobra sneered as he literally emerged from the wall of the building, his pistol pointed directly at Mark’s chest. “A little stray.” He motioned towards the shake with his gun. “Let’s join your friend shall we?”

  “Ain’t nothin’ here Zartan.” Ripper whined in disappointment as the other man entered the clearing. “Jus’ a bunch of huntin’ supplies.”

  During the exchange between the two Dreadknocks, Mark locked eyes with Galvin’s and a silent message passed between the two. They knew what would happen if Cobra managed to find the cellar or even break one of them to gather information. The lives of those they protected were more important then their own. Galvin calmly nodded his agreement and Mark knew that neither of them would live to see the sun rise.

  Zartan turned back to his prisoners. “We know you’re hiding something, and it’s only a matter of time until I find out what it is.” He calmly picked a heavy metal pipe the length of a man’s forearm off the ground and began pacing. “Now we can do this the easy way,” he paused in front of Galvin and without warning, struck the boy forcefully in the neck with the pipe. “Or the hard way.” He smiled as Galvin slumped and gasped for breath, hanging in Buzzer and Thrasher’s grip.

  The two Dreadknocks grinned at each other and chuckled. “Hit ‘im again, Zartan!” Buzzer called.

  “Leave him alone!” Mark tried to leap forward, but found himself being held. Straining against the troopers that were holding him, he spat, “Is that all you can do is pick on a kid?!”

  Zartan turned, “Oh, you’ll get yours soon enough.” He jerked Galvin’s head up by his hair, causing the boy to gasp in pain. “There were three of you. Where’s your other friend?”

  “Go to hell.” Galvin ground out.

  “Wrong answer.” Zartan struck Galvin across his knee. The boy fell forward, screaming in pain as his knee shattered. The only thing that kept him from collapsing completely to the dirt was the hold of his detainers. “I’m sorry, did that hurt?”

  “Fuck you.” Galvin managed to gasp between his clenched teeth.

  “Your friend doesn’t appear to want to talk,” Zartan baited as he walked over and stood in front of Mark. “Perhaps you will be more cooperative.”

  “I have nothing to say.”

  “Oh you don’t, do you?” The man turned and calmly aimed his gun. Galvin didn’t even have the chance to scream before the bullet tore through his other knee.

  Mark fought violently against the men holding him. “You fuckin’ bastard! He’s just a kid!”

  Zartan smiled cruelly. “And if you want him to see his next birthday I suggest you tell me where your other team member is.”

  Mark’s brown eyes quickly met Galvin’s blue, filled with agony and despite his efforts, tears. The younger man barely nodded, and closed his eyes to accept the inevitable. Forgive me! Mark’s mind screamed. “Go to hell!”

  Zartan shrugged and turned to Galvin. “Kill him.”

  Mark winced and squeezed his eyes shut as two shots pierced the night.

  Buzzer and Thrasher simultaneously released their grip, stepping away to allow the body to fall lifeless to the earth. “Take that one back to headquarters and burn the shack.” He kicked Galvin as a final insult. “Leave this one to feed the vultures.”

* * * * * * * * *

  Smoke? Clair felt a shiver run down her spine as she as approached what was left of the shack she and her team had called home. It was embers now, not even enough wood left to continue to fuel a full flame . As the form of a body pulled her focus, she stopped, paralyzed. “Oh no…” she whispered, her voice increasing in volume as she ran towards it. “No…no…oh God, Galvin!” Ignoring the blood that still soaked the ground around her, she fell to her knees and cradled the young man’s head in her lap, streaming tears leaving trails down her dust cover cheeks. Nothing moved…nothing stirred…as if the world itself was again holding its breath against the coming storm.

  Silence…

______________________________________________________

Continued in Chapter Three!
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