by R Mountebank
Chapter 20
Berserker v. Fire
Mary crawled toward the hole in the roof and peered over the edge. The room below was on fire. Thick black smoke spewed out of the hole like a geyser and obscured everything below. Mary caught the stench of burnt hair and the acrid tang of plastic or oil.
Panic coursed through her mind, constricted her chest. Fear stuck her in place. She wasn't going down there.
No way.
Nothing could survive that inferno.
"Lonagan! Are you okay?" she called, her voice breaking.
She heard a window smash on the street side of the building and clambered over to investigate. Mary saw Lonagan crash through the window with an unconscious woman in his arms. He landed badly, his body taking the brunt of the fall, his arms protecting the woman's head. Mary screamed when she realised he wasn't moving. Beneath her the building was burning up. She made a dash for the next house as the ceiling joists buckled. She found a copper downpipe on the front of the building and clambered to the ground.
Crouching by Lonagan's side, she saw that he had sustained severe burning to his arms, legs and one side of his face. The black suit he wore was charred and peeling. Both Lonagan and the woman were unconscious and wouldn't wake up, despite the desperate shakes and slaps Mary administered. Behind her the burning building was in its death throes. Beams were collapsing and internal walls were being reduced to cinders. Mary could feel her hair singeing from the terrible heat. People were pouring out of the buildings behind her, shouting and pointing, but staying at a safe distance.
Mary didn't like how close they were to the fire. If it collapsed completely it would bury all three of them with rubble to spare.
Grabbing a collar in each hand, Mary tried to pull the two limp bodies away. She wasn't strong enough to pull one, let alone both at the same time.
The building shuddered, showering embers and hot ash over her.
Hurry it up! Otherwise…
Her anger rose, fanned by a desperation she had never felt before.
She wasn't going to let anyone die.
Pain tore through her body as she grew several extra feet in a flash of popping bone and snapping sinew. The leather straps holding her armour in place tore and fell to the ground forgotten. With a berserker’s yell she heaved the bodies forward until they were well clear of the building.
Roaring a cry of fiery misery, the building collapsed, her timbers consumed, her bricks reduced to waste, precious keepsakes and furniture burnt to ash. Men and women were running about the street, eyes wide with awe and mouths agape. People ran screaming from the neighbouring houses. In desperation, a small crew of men and women battled the blaze with buckets and garden hoses, their task hampered by the gawking onlookers.
Mary turned her back to the raging fire to find a crowd formed around her, filled with angry faces and sharp weapons.
“Kill the monster! Burn it with fire!” yelled one man brandishing a pistol.
The un-girl looked behind herself, searching for the monster.
“Oh my god! It’s going to eat those people!” screamed a woman.
Mary looked at where they were pointing. They were pointing at her.
“Calm down!” she bellowed. “I just saved their lives.”
“Drop them, you beast!” yelled an old man. ‘Leave our people alone!”
Mary gently lowered the unconscious woman to the floor. “You can have this one…”
Suddenly another woman screamed. She was gesturing franticly at Lonagan. Her cry was taken up by others.
“Dark elf! There is a dark elf!”
Lonagan’s hat had slipped, exposing his long ears and grey skin.
Some idiot fired a gun. The bullet glanced off Mary’s muscled chest and ricocheted into the crowd. The mob scattered in a cacophony of shrieks, running blindly in every direction while Mary howled in agony.
A dozen or more men and women fought their way through the pushing crowd, making a line straight for Mary and Lonagan.
“Kill it! Kill it!” yelled a man.
More guns fired. Mary turned and covered Lonagan with her hulking body. Bullets and buck-shot bounced off the un-girl or grazed her thick skin. The gathered men and women emptied whole clips of ammunition onto the berserker, the gunpowder blanketing the scene with a haze of thick smoke, mixing with that of the house-fire.
Finally the last bullet was shot.
“Did we get them?” asked a woman, shouldering her hefty shotgun.
“Must have,” said the man next to her.
“Go and check.”
“Did you see the size of that thing? You go.”
The mob shuffled closer, weapons ready.
A disturbing sound rumbled from within the smoke, alternating between a high pitched laugh and an animalistic roar. The armed party stopped in their tracks and looked at each other nervously.
“Quick, reload. I don’t think it’s dead,” whispered a man to his neighbour.
“Not…dead…” said the berserker between her insane laughing. “Just…angry…”
The ground shook. An enormous silhouette, backlit by the raging fire, flexed its bulging muscles.
“Holy waters! Run!”
“Yes! Run for your lives!” giggled Mary, leaping from the smoke.
Half the remaining mob turned and fled in panic. The rest shot at Mary who swatted the bullets aside with her mammoth arms.
“You dare!? You dare!?” she roared, her anger fuelled to breaking point by her strange magic.
Blood boiling, temper flaring, she knocked them over with a flick of her wrist.
“I could break you! I should break you!” shouted Mary, standing over the people now cowering on the floor.
Mary grappled with her raging emotions. Part of her wanted to kill these cretins ˗ to crush them beneath her feet and smear them over the walls.
You don’t murder people.
The berserker paused, panting heavily, a hairsbreadth away from unleashing havoc.
“Look! The fire is spreading!”
Mary looked over her shoulder. The neighbouring houses were alight. If left alone the whole street would likely be at risk; not that Mary cared after the near-lynching by these ignorant vigilantes.
She looked back at the gathered crowd watching fearfully at a distance. Mothers and fathers held children tightly, dressed in nothing but their nightclothes.
“Grummph…”
“Please, don’t kill us,” pleaded a man lying flat on his back.
“Quiet, you,” growled Mary. “I’m thinking.”
Maybe I can fight the fire…
The berserker frowned.
With what? My hands?
“If Remy can do it, so can I,” said Mary, nodding her head.
Mary bounded to the blaze in several flying leaps. Lonagan was where she had left him, laid out cold on the street.
“I haven’t forgotten about you,” she said flying past. “Just going to fight a fire… might relieve some of the anger I’m feeling!”
The few locals battling the fire with their garden hoses quickly stepped aside for the berserker.
“Excuse me,” rumbled Mary, picking up a charred beam, “I’ll take care of this mess, you do the ones that are still standing.”
Without waiting she leapt into the burning pile of rubble. The flames immediately licked at her bare skin, but while the intense heat did register as pain, she did not burn.
The berserker howled its un-human cry and fought back.
Kicking, stomping and bashing, the un-girl unleashed a frenzied assault on the toppled building, smothering the fire with rubble or her bare skin. Her fists pulled down walls and crushed brick to dust. Lost in a primal daze, the berserker demolished the remnants of the house to the braying of her own manic laughter.
It took a moment to realise the fire was out.
The horrified crowd watched her in silence. The un-girl was covered head to toes in ash and soot, standing in the ce
ntre of the smoking wreckage. Beside her, the fires had been tamed by the locals and their hoses. Mary shook the loose detritus from her behemoth body and walked toward Lonagan.
The people moved out of her path, murmuring oaths and imprecations amongst themselves.
Mary bent over and picked up her limp companion.
“Please, leave us alone,” said a young girl beside her.
“I was only trying to help,” replied Mary.
“Yeah? Well we don’t want your help,” spat a man further back.
Mary shrugged her shoulders and walked away. Others, emboldened by her subdued attitude, shouted curses at her back. The berserker gritted her teeth and ignored them.
Mary stopped to check on Lonagan several blocks away. The elf was in a bad state. One eye had completely closed over and his breathing was shallow and laboured. The burns he had received would be putting him into shock at any moment. The un-girl didn't know what to do. She had no idea about first aid or where the nearest hospital was. They would probably turn her away anyway.
She thumped the elf on the chest to wake him up. The elf stirred, cracked open his free eye.
"...ground..."
"What?" bellowed the un-girl.
Lonagan beckoned her closer. The berserker obliged.
"Bury me... I need to be underground... I need the earth..." wheezed the elf feebly.
Mary nodded her thick head. "I'll dig you a hole."
She slung the elf over her back and trooped off in search of somewhere suitable.
In a small public garden, she dug furiously with her shovel-like hands until she had created a shallow grave. The un-girl laid the elf inside.
"Cover me... And wait..." commanded Lonagan.
The un-girl buried her companion in the loose soil and patted it down firmly. A solitary tear streaked down her sooty cheek. Mary was angry and upset. She had lost the new weapons and Spring-heeled Jack…. The people of Olde London were probably out hunting for her… Her companion was dying in the ground… And worst of all, she feared what she became when the berserker was in control.
She had no idea what to do next.
In a shallow water fountain she drank her fill before washing off the worst of the grime that covered her.
Cold and miserable, the un-girl got as comfortable as she could amongst the weeds and waited.
Mary woke to bright sun light glaring in her eyes and dry grass tickling her face. She sat up confused. Last night was a blur of walking, climbing and fear.
Why was she in a garden and where was Lonagan?
Her eyes fell on the fresh dirt on the ground. Fleeting memories of burying a disfigured man ran through her head.
What have I done?
An inspection of herself showed she was still in one piece. Her leather armour was missing, along with her boots and weapons. Mary held her head in her hands as she thought of all the things that had gone wrong last night. Kyron was going to be mad when he found out she had lost everything, including Lonagan. She looked back at the grave-shaped mound of dirt. Maybe she hadn't lost everything...
Bending closer she put her ear to the dirt, hoping to hear something. "Lonagan? Are you in there?"
Nothing.
"Lonagan! Wake up!"
The dirt shifted a fraction. Mary clapped her hands.
"Lonagan! What do I do?"
"Wait," came a muffled reply.
Mary sat back, a frown creasing her forehead. "How long?" she asked herself.
