by Nick Harrow
“It certainly is,” he said.
It was hard to accept that the dream he’d shared with the others was real. Even faced with clear signs of rioting from the night before, Gunnar still wanted to believe this was just one big, messed-up hallucination.
He even tried to ignore the strange changes to the buildings they drove past. Vinyl siding and crude log walls sat side by side, sometimes on the same house or apartment block. Heavy stones had replaced bricks in some buildings. The road hadn’t escaped unscathed, either. Patches of black asphalt were gone, and thick tufts of grass jutted up through the gaps.
But once Gunnar saw the monster, all his doubts vanished.
The creature was seven feet tall and naked to the waist. A pair of twisted horns curved out of its forehead and back over the top of its head. Grimy sweatpants covered the thing’s lower half. The soiled fabric was rucked up above the knees to reveal hairy legs and black hooves. It held a bloody scrap of meat in its right hand and an aluminum baseball bat in its left. It roared and waved its club overhead as Mimi goosed the Charger and got them out of there.
“Jötnar,” Gunnar said through clenched teeth.
Odin had called them the enemies of Midgard. They were the filth the bodyguard had sworn to fight to save the world. And the sight of one of them so close ignited fury in his heart. He wanted to kick the door open and attack the freaks. He’d tear them apart with his bare hands if he had to.
Hell, he’d like that even more than shooting them.
“Don’t look now, but there’s more of them up ahead,” Mimi said. “They barricaded the street with cars. Time for a detour.”
She pumped the brakes hard enough to break the back end loose, twisted the wheel, then gunned the engine and sent the Charger blasting down an alley in a whirling spray of discarded trash and broken bottles. Sparks jumped up as the car’s undercarriage bounced over the lip of a pothole, tires squalling as Mimi threw it into a hard right around the next corner and stomped the accelerator to the floor.
“This plan is looking worse by the second,” she grunted. “This is as dumb as sticking your dick in a beehive.”
“If you’ve got any better ideas to save the world, I’m all ears,” Gunnar grumbled. “And don’t knock fucking beehives until you try it. It’s invigorating.”
“I’ve heard bee stings make your dick bigger,” Mimi snickered. “I guess that explains a lot about you, Jolly.
She leaned far forward to look left and right, decided it was clear enough, then sent the Charger flying across the Strip. A firetruck blasted its horn as it streaked by the car’s rear end with inches to spare. Gunnar felt a moment of hope at the sight of the emergency vehicle with its lights blazing, then disappointment when he saw the jötnar clinging to the truck like ticks on a hound’s back.
He fought back his rage and shook his head. It was hard not to fly off the handle every time a monster showed its ugly face, but he had to work on it. Going berserk was an excellent way to get himself killed.
“We could try something other than walking right into a death trap,” Mimi shot back. “Let’s watch the place for a while, see how many soldiers he’s still got. Maybe he's sent most of them out to scavenge supplies or raid the dispensaries. Then we could hit Corso and snatch the rock without fighting a whole goddamned army.”
Gunnar had played through dozens of scenarios, trying to figure out the best way to retrieve the Valknut. Mimi’s plan might work, but it would take too long. There was no guarantee that Corso wouldn’t pull all his forces back to the Villas until things settled down. A place like that would have enough supplies to hold out for weeks.
Waiting also gave Cal time to strengthen his position. The last Gunnar had heard, the gang leader had a few hundred troops inside the city limits. Judging from what they’d seen of the city, a bunch of the thugs were most likely dead. There’d never be an easy time to grab the thing. The longer they waited, the worse things would get.
“I don’t plan to fight anyone,” Gunnar said. “He knows you’re working for one of the alphabet agencies, right? That’s our leverage.”
“I told you their phone in the house is dead, Gun,” Mimi said.
“Cal doesn’t know that,” Gunnar shot back. “We’ll tell him you’ll trade a way out of this mess for the rock. You’ll look like a big fat lifeline to him.”
“I gained a few pounds babysitting the party bunker,” Mimi said, punching Gunnar in the leg. “But I’m not fat. Here we are. Let me do the talking.”
Mimi eased the Charger down the narrow road alongside the entrance to the Mirage’s ultraluxe villas. Whitewashed stone walls flanked the alley, their surfaces still sparkling clean, the spiked tines of security fences jutting from their tops shining in the sun. This little piece of Sin City looked peaceful and untouched by the violence that had swept through the rest of the Strip.
Gunnar imagined that had a lot to do with the figures he saw on the rooftops overlooking the street. They were obviously armed, and their bulky forms suggested they were well armored, too. The guards’ weapons tracked Mimi’s car as it eased down to the circle drive lined with gated entrances. Jötnar stood outside the gates, the FN-SCARs and B&T APC 10 PROs looking like children’s toys in their monstrous mitts. Cal had seriously upgraded his arsenal since the last time I worked with him.
“Shit,” Mimi muttered. “Look at those monsters. This could get really, really ugly, Jolly.”
A raven soared through the sky overhead, its eye flashing like a beacon to Gunnar. It was a sign, and that enormous bird filled the bodyguard with confidence. He was supposed to be here. This was his fight to win. He was as sure of that as he’d ever been of anything.
He put his hand on Mimi’s shoulder. “It’s okay,” he said. “We’ve got this.”
Mimi half turned in her seat as she brought the Charger to a stop. She leaned forward, and for a moment Gunnar thought she was coming in for a kiss. Her breath was warm and soft against his lips. The two of them had only ever had a few flings, random parties that turned into something more, but they’d never been serious.
“Follow my lead,” Mimi murmured, then pressed her cheek against Gunnar’s and squeezed him into a one-armed hug. “Because if you get us killed, I will be seriously pissed.”
The passenger side door popped open before Gunnar could respond, and a thick-fingered blue hand hooked around his arm and not so gently assisted his exit. The jötunn, eight feet of muscle and rank body odor, patted Gunnar down with bruising force. When his heavy hand worked its way up the bodyguard’s inner thigh, Gunnar faked a shiver.
“You’re getting me all wound up, big guy. At least buy me a drink before you yank my dick,” Gunnar said. “There’s a pistol in the small of my back.”
Gunnar raised his arms a little higher so his jacket rode up enough to reveal the waistband rig to Corso’s boy. The guard popped the safety strap and removed the weapon with practiced ease. He dropped the pistol’s magazine, cleared the chamber, then tossed the gun to another jötunn. “Make sure our friend gets his pea shooter back when he leaves.”
“Hey,” Mimi barked from her side of the car, “easy on the merchandise, boys.”
A pair of monsters had patted her down while Gunnar had gotten the once-over. She hadn’t brought a gun, but the blue freaks did find a trio of knives they confiscated.
“We’ll keep the weapons,” the obvious leader of the guards said. “The boss know you’re coming?”
“Tell him Mimi wants to talk,” she said, flashing a shark’s smile. “Trust me, he’ll want to see me.”
“Call it in,” the leader said.
With that, one of the jötunn raised a hand over his head, flashed a complex series of finger signals to the guards patrolling the roofs. Long seconds passed as the aerial goons conferred with someone inside the compound. Finally, they got the go sign.
“All right,” the guards’ leader said. “We’ll take you inside. Don’t cause any trouble and you’ll be fine. The big guy
over there will take you inside.”
Gunnar and Mimi did as they were told, following one of the jötnar through a gate while two more trailed behind them. Another guard at the villa’s entrance stepped aside as a buzzer sounded from the building’s interior. He pulled the door open, then waved the group inside.
“Don’t cause any trouble in there,” the creature snarled as Gunnar passed him. “You’ll regret it.”
“This is purely a social call, sunshine,” Gunnar responded, his smile wide and bright. “Nobody messes with me, nobody gets their skull broken. We’re all friends here.”
Despite his cheery appearance, though, Gunnar’s nerves were pulled as tight as a guitar’s E string. This meeting was the wrong end of a years-long feud with a gang boss. Even with Mimi along as insurance, the slightest wrong move on Gunnar’s part would end in a whole lot of blood. Stay cool, he reminded himself. Just stay cool.
But that was far easier said than done. Something about the jötnar rankled Gunnar. Their smell clung to him, a primal odor that dredged up the memories of what he’d seen in the vision with the old man. His anger churned in his gut, urging him to do something stupid. The only way to hold it together was for him to focus his attention on anything but the jötnar.
He admired the architecture, the crystal-blue water that jetted from the fountains, even the grass beside the walkway that had been so neatly trimmed it looked fake. He concentrated on Mimi, and her presence helped to stabilize him. Gunnar couldn’t save her if he got himself popped in a melee with the monsters.
The common area that tied all the villas together held ten jötnar guards, a pair stationed next to each of the hallways leading off to the individual villas and the casino. One guard raised her chin toward Gunnar and directed him down the hallway between her and her partner.
Gunnar’s shoulders tensed as he and Mimi passed between the creatures. The blue freaks could easily drill a bullet through the humans’ necks as they passed, and there wouldn’t be a damned thing he could do about it.
“This is fun,” Mimi whispered to him. “A real grade-A idea we had.”
“Please come this way, sir.” A still-human butler had appeared at the end of the hallway as if by magic. “I apologize for the rather spartan nature of our current situation, but I can only offer you a whiskey or a sparkling water as refreshments. There might be some bottles of beer left, but our guests have been very...exuberant in their celebrations since last night.”
“Sure, we’ll each take a whiskey,” Gunnar said, and the butler handed one to him and to Mimi before the last syllable had left the bodyguard’s mouth. Gunnar wasn’t sure where the drinks had come from, but he wouldn’t look a gift horse in the mouth.
“That’s Pappy Van Winkle, aged twenty-five years,” the butler said. “Try not to drink it all in one go.”
Gunnar considered downing the entire thing in a single swallow to spite the prissy little guy. That, however, would’ve been a waste of a whiskey he’d likely never get the chance to have again. Plus, humans had to stick together against the goddamned freaks. He clinked his drink against Mimi’s.
The bodyguard took a sip from the glass, let it swirl around his tongue, then swallowed the smoky, spicy elixir. The flavor was so complex and intriguing, it held Gunnar’s attention even as he followed the butler through the villa’s main salon and outside to the pool area. Towering palms and a tall, thick hedge concealed the security wall that bordered the villas, and dwarf lemon trees filled the air with the pleasant bite of citrus. For a moment, Gunnar let his worries go and enjoyed another swig of whiskey.
And then a monster messed it all up.
“Ah, familiar faces.” A towering jötunn with blazing red eyes, vicious black tusks jutting from bone-white lips, and skin the color of fresh ashes emerged from the pool. A pair of horns curled forward from the creature’s temples and back around his ears. A third spiral prong thrust straight from the center of his forehead. The creature wore a golden chain as thick as Gunnar’s thumb around its throat, and a black stone dangled from it. “What? You don’t recognize me? Come on, buddy. It’s Cal.”
Gunnar was less surprised by his longtime enemy’s dramatically changed appearance than his attitude. He’d come ready for a fight, but nothing could have prepared him for being greeted like the prodigal son returned. Cal’s gruesome smile didn’t waver as Gunnar wrestled with his surprise. The four jötnar stationed around the pool ignored the bodyguard and Mimi. The monsters all seemed at ease, as if their guests were no threat to them at all.
“Sorry,” Gunnar said. “I didn’t expect you to have grown so much since the last time we met.”
“I wasn’t so sure I liked the change, but it’s growing on me,” Corso said. “I’m finally taller than you. Looking good, Mimi. Glad to see you got through the shit last night in one piece. Never figured you for one of those trendy bindi bitches, though.”
“You’re not the only one who can change,” Mimi said, a fake smile plastered across her features. “Looks like you got some new faces on the payroll.”
“The shit really hit the fan,” Corso said with a frown. “Fortunately, after my, ah, costume change, it was pretty easy to pick up new recruits this morning. Lost a lot of good men, but I’ve got a lot of better ones now. Big ol’ shitkickers.”
Corso laughed at that and strode across the stone deck around the pool. Each of his feet had three toes, widely splayed and tipped by blackened nails. Those thick talons dug into the earth as the gang leader crossed the neatly manicured lawn to throw his arms around Gunnar’s shoulders in a brotherly hug. He held the embrace until his wet skin had soaked through Gunnar’s T-shirt, then pulled back and turned his attention to Mimi.
“Still working for the other side?” he asked with a gentle grin.
“For the moment,” she responded. “Gotta pay the bills.”
“Ah, yes,” Corso said. “I’ve picked up a few new jobs to do that. Just today, in fact.”
He engulfed Mimi in a gentler hug. When Corso finally stepped back, he gestured for the pair to follow him to the pool chairs scattered beside the water. “These things are great,” he said. “They even hold me after I gained all this weight.”
To demonstrate, he flopped down in a chair. The wooden frame creaked, and the woven fibers groaned, but nothing broke.
Mimi dropped into the chair to Corso’s left and put her feet up like she didn’t have a care in the world. She sipped her whiskey and shielded her eyes from the sun with one hand. Her eyes flicked to Gunnar, just once, cautioning him to go easy.
The bodyguard eased into his own chair, though he sat sideways facing Cal, his boots on the ground between them. He sipped at his whiskey but couldn’t take his eyes off the stone around Cal’s neck. It glinted and shone in the sun, revealing the symbol of interlocked triangles carved into its polished face.
Gunnar’s eyes locked on the necklace. The Valknut.
“You like it?” Corso asked, flicking the Valknut with one finger. “It’s some Viking shit. One of my procurement people saw it pop up at an auction last month and snatched it right out from under the noses of a bunch of museums. I dig it. So, Mimi. What brings you to my neck of the woods with this giant in tow? Don’t tell me you decided to cash in on the bounty.”
The gang lord had turned away from Gunnar to speak to Mimi. His back and neck were exposed. The bodyguard had a clean shot. He could throw an arm around Corso’s throat and squeeze the life out of him.
But the guards would turn the courtyard into a bloodbath if he tried that. So he held his position, eyes locked on Mimi’s. He’d promised to follow her lead, and she hadn’t given him any signal that it was time to start hurting people.
“Cal, that’s not very neighborly of you. I thought you’d let bygones be bygones, considering the whole world went to shit overnight. We need more allies, not enemies.”
“He did fuck me out of an astronomical amount of money,” Cal chuckled. “But I suppose you’re right. Maybe we can figur
e out some arrangement to repay me for my losses in this brave new world of ours.”
Mimi leaned forward, raised her glass, and made a clinking noise. “I’ll drink to that. What I’m really here for, though, is that necklace,” she said nonchalantly. “I saw it at the Aria party a couple weeks back. Mentioned it to my boss. They seem keen to get their hands on it. And they’re willing to make it worth your while.”
Gunnar heard something moving outside the security wall. The guards didn’t seem to have noticed it, though. That seemed odd. He strained his ears to catch it again, but whatever it was didn’t happen again.
Strange.
“Interesting,” Corso said. “I don’t suppose they told you why they wanted it?”
Mimi chuckled and shook her head. “Above my pay grade, man. I can make you a sweet-ass offer on it, though. Supplies, ammo, even some shooty toys you wouldn’t normally be able to get your hands on. Seems like a good deal for a piece of rock in these trying times, right?”
“Real good,” Cal agreed. “But I like it. A lot, you know? It has, what do they call it? Sentimental value.”
The smell of woodsmoke and roasting meat drifted on the breeze. The air temperature dropped a good ten degrees, and something wet brushed against Gunnar’s forehead.
Rain? He looked up and saw small white flakes dropping out of the sky.
Snow. In Vegas? In June?
“That’s too bad.” Mimi slapped her thighs and stood up abruptly. She downed the last of her drink in one go. “Guess we’ll be off, then. Sorry to waste your time, Cal.”
The jötunn rose to his feet with the sinuous speed of a cobra preparing to strike. He reached out for Mimi, who drew back instinctively.
“Sorry, sorry,” Corso said, raising his hands. “Since this...change...I’ve been a little faster than I’m used to. Didn’t mean to scare you.”
Gunnar had already risen to his feet, his fists clenched. He stepped to the left, putting Corso in the guards’ line of fire if they decided to open up on the bodyguard. “Shit’s gotten kinda messed up, Cal. We’re a little touchy, you know? Maybe it’s best if we just go.”
