Behind her, she could hear the armored giant thundering down the stairs, his rage booming through the darkness like a physical force. She could tell that the narrow passageway she was running through was going to slow him down considerably. He was just too big to get through it easily.
Her pulse was racing and her blood was screaming through her veins. Fear was nearly consuming her as she pushed herself as hard as she could, trying to get away from the furious warrior. The closer she got to the fire, the hotter it grew. She had little doubt that the heat wouldn't bother the Eldjötnar in the slightest. In fact, she was pretty sure he'd just enjoy it.
When she got close to where she had first gone up the stairs, the fire had engulfed the entire area. There was no getting through that way. Choosing quickly, she darted to her left and headed towards the south end of the factory. Desperately, she was searching for an exit. Her thoughts were racing with despair as she became more convinced by the second that she couldn't kill the gigantic warrior and he was going to crush the life out of her if he caught her.
Fear was turning to panic as she fought to regain control of her breathing. If she didn't get control of it soon, she was going to hyperventilate. She understood this, but the rational part of her brain wasn't functioning well, at the moment. Only the flight part of her fight or flight response was working, and it was working overtime.
Stumbling through the darkness, she saw a sliver of light ahead. Near the south wall was a set of doors that led outside. Although the roof had partially collapsed, it was clear enough for her to get to the doors. She was no longer sure how long she had stumbled around in the darkness searching for the door. What she did know was that between the fire and the giant chasing her, there wasn't much time left to escape.
Just as she was about to reach the doors, her heart began to race with excitement. Freedom was just a few steps away. The excitement melted like an ice-cube on a hot pan as the massive Eldjötnar smashed through an office wall and grabbed her by the throat.
"Going somewhere?" he asked, mockingly.
She could feel his grip tightening around her throat and sparks were beginning to appear in her vision. It wasn't going to be long before she blacked out.
"Do not lose consciousness yet," he said, loosening his grip. "I am not finished with you."
The last word echoed in her mind with ominous overtones. Kicking the doors open, they could both see Spec-4 dragging my unconscious body towards the police station.
"There they are," he hissed. "Once I have finished with you, I will finish them both and take his head back with me as a prize."
"Why?" she managed to gasp.
"Why indeed?" he replied. "If I return with the head of the human who killed Surtr, I will be hailed as a hero and take over his faction."
The panic and fear fled from her as the realization dawned on her. She had led him to her friends and now he was going to kill her with the knowledge that she had failed. Tears began to roll down her cheeks and she felt ashamed.
"Your tears will not save you, little one," he said, darkly.
Then she realized that she still had her bow in her hand. Slowly, she started reaching for an arrow.
"Not so fast, child," he snarled.
Grabbing the quiver off of her shoulder, he tossed it away into the darkness. The sound of the arrows bouncing out of the quiver resounded through the darkness. The ominous creaking of the roof made the sound all the more disheartening for her. Her best weapon was gone.
"Now what are you going to do?" he chided condescendingly. "Scream for me."
Glancing around, she saw that Spec-4 had stopped in the road and was looking back towards her. For just a moment, their eyes locked. Determination flooded her as she realized what she had to do. Reaching over, she grabbed the end of the arrow that was still sticking out of his shoulder and began to pull with all her might. The big warrior bellowed in shock and surprise as she ripped the arrow free and nocked the bloody shaft in her bow.
"Scream for me!" she shouted into his face.
"What are you doing?" he roared.
Leaning back as far as she could, she aimed quickly and released the arrow. The Eldjötnar watched helplessly as the arrow streaked into the twisted mass of steel and concrete that was suspended above them. Her aim was true as the arrow struck a fraying cable that was holding up a large section of the roof.
The cable was already under tremendous strain and the steel tip of the arrow bit into the damaged portion. The cable strings snapped like the pinging of some bizarre instrument and the entire roof began to rumble.
"What have you done?" roared the big warrior.
"Run!" she screamed at Spec-4.
In an instant, over a hundred tons of steel and concrete came crushing down and buried them in a cloud of dust and debris. It took several moments as the entire facility imploded and the ground shook from the force. Spec-4 stared in mute horror as she watched Bridgett sacrifice herself to keep the archer from coming after them.
It truly was a death worthy of song.
Chapter Twenty Six
Valkyrie's Rest
“I do what I do because it is the right thing to do.
I am a warrior, and it is the way of the warrior to fight superior odds.”
- Paul Watson
When I came to, I was laying in a familiar bed. At first, I thought I was dreaming, but the pain reminded me that I was very much awake. I was in my own bed in my house. It looked just the same. Despite the pain, I was convinced I was hallucinating until Spec-4 walked over and leaned down to check on me.
“How the fuck did I get here?” I asked, still expecting it to fade away.
“The police station had been completely ransacked,” she replied. “Besides that, between the fire and the collapse of the building, I knew that it would be getting a lot of attention in a very short amount of time.”
“Were we tracked?” I gasped, trying to set up.
“Easy there,” she said, gently pushing me back down. “A group of riders on Vargr arrived about the same time as a group on those massive horses. They were too busy trying to kill each other to worry about us.”
“How did you find this place?”
“I was wondering where to go when the police station was a bust,” she explained, “but then I remembered that you once told me you didn’t live too far from here. Way back when we were on the bus going to try to rescue the people in the drug store.”
“I’m surprised that you remembered,” I wheezed, settling back onto the pillows.
“You were fading in and out for a while,” she added. “I asked you a few question and you actually led me to the right house.”
“That’s weird,” I replied. “I don’t remember any of it. How long have we been here?”
“Since yesterday afternoon. So far, no one has come looking for us.”
“As long as we don’t draw attention to ourselves,” I said, groaning, “we should be relatively safe here.”
“You had plenty of medical supplies under the bathroom sink.”
“Yeah, Karen was big into coupons and stocked up on everything. You should see the shelves in the garage.”
“I already have,” she said, chuckling. “There was quite a bit of useful food out there. Nothing big, but a lot of canned goods and laundry supplies. We’d be set if the power was on and we could wash our clothes. By the way, it looks like ravioli for dinner. ”
I winced as I chortled, but was relieved when it didn’t hurt nearly as badly as I had anticipated. I seemed to be healing a little more, but I still had a long ways to go.
“As long as it’s not an MRE,” I wheezed, holding my abdomen.
“Here,” she said, handing me a bottle of water. “We’ve got plenty to drink. I also found some pain relievers and some basic antibiotics in the medicine cabinet.”
I took the water and began taking off the cap while she went to retrieve the meds. My parched throat felt the sweet sensation of the cool water and felt i
nstantly better. After about half of the bottle was downed, she returned with my dosage.
“This is about twice as much as the bottle said to take,” she explained. “I thought I’d better double up considering your system and the shape that you’re in.”
“I don’t think you can overdose on antibiotics and I always take that much ibuprofen. Anything less won’t even touch a headache.”
“I’ll have a bowl of ravioli for you in a few minutes,” she said as she headed out the door. “I’ve got it warming up over a heat tab.”
The anticipation of a semi-hot meal was very appealing. In fact, I couldn’t really remember the last time I had actually taken the time to eat. My stomach was telling me that it was quite some time ago. I could smell the ravioli and my stomach was rumbling with eager expectation. When she emerged a few minutes later with two large steaming bowls on a tray, my mouth began to salivate like Pavlov’s dog.
“I made plenty for each of us,” she said. “There’s literally dozens of the cans out there. Then there’s the other food, too. We could last here for months on just what Karen stockpiled.”
“Once this is over, we should consider finding a vehicle and taking all of it,” I said. “No sense in leaving it here to go bad.”
“Good point,” she said. “Wylie? Aren’t you even going to ask where Bridgett is?”
“I think I already know,” I replied, holding the spoon halfway to my mouth. “I saw the vision of the fight when I was out. She died as a warrior and took the Eldjötnar with her.”
“She saved us,” she said, sadly.
“I know,” I replied, setting the spoon back in the bowl. “She won’t be forgotten. We’ll see to that.”
That was the closest to breaking down that I had seen Spec-4 get since the beginning days of all of this. Her strength and resolve had made me proud, and her humanity had kept me from going too far into the darkness. It suddenly occurred to me that our chance meeting at the roadblock had likely made all the difference. If not for her, I doubt I could have ever made it this far. In many ways, she was the biggest hero in all of this.
“I’m sorry,” I said, my voice cracking slightly. “You’ve had to shoulder so much through all of this. Sometimes I forget just how much you’ve been through. Thank you.”
Wiping a tear from the corner of her eye, she sniffed and rubbed her nose with the back of her hand.
“You’ve done plenty, too,” she replied, not meeting my gaze.
I wasn't sure what else to say, so I decided to change the subject.
"Hey," I said, smiling. "Let's eat this feast before it gets cold."
"You mean cold-ER," she said chuckling, seemingly welcoming the change of subject.
We sat in silence as we ate our ravioli. It wasn't the best meal I had ever eaten, but it was the best I had eaten in quite some time. It seemed like a lifetime ago since we were last in the relatively safe confines of our base. In reality it had only been a few of days, but it certainly felt longer. In fact, since I had been hurt so badly, I had lost track of time. It really could have been much longer and I had no way to know for sure.
For desert, we shared a can of peaches. They were sweet and delicious, despite the can being almost six months past its expiration date. I wasn't complaining though. The world was at least six months past its expiration date, too. Just being alive to enjoy a simple can of peaches after everything that had happened was beyond amazing.
After we ate, I lay back and tried to get some rest. It felt so strange being in my own bed again. Strange and yet somehow comforting. It was like coming home to a time before all this happened, if only for a few moments. I could stare at the ceiling and the crooked ceiling fan that I never got around to fixing. That the world was still alright and my alarm would go off to wake me up to get ready for my shift at the jail. I could almost forget the horror of the last six months. Almost.
As I was beginning to doze off, I let my head roll to the right and looked into the open door of my walk-in closet. There staring back at me were several hangers full of fresh uniforms, pressed and waiting for me to go back to work. It made me chuckle as I was drifting off into sleep.
I dreamed again. It was the first time in months that I had the Viking dreams. This time I was dressed in the same clothes, but everyone was speaking modern English. Someone even called me by my name. Wylie not Wygliff. I could see the other warriors as well, but they were different. They were the same but different. It was strange and hard to explain. It was almost as if each of them had taken on the aspects of the fallen Einherjar.
Then, before the dream could become too vivid, the entire thing was cast into darkness and I was stumbling through the night. Up ahead, I could see the soft glow of a fire. Without any other point to focus on, I headed for it. It seemed to take forever as I stumbled my way through the pitch blackness and made my way to the side of the fire.
I sat next to it and tried to warm my cold hands by it, but it cast no heat. Only light emanated from the dancing flames. I could smell cooking food but there was nothing there. They were delicious smells and the intoxicating aroma of what I knew to be mead. I could just make out the soft murmuring of voices, but they were only barely audible. Almost as if they were coming to me from a great distance.
As I gazed into the fire, through the dancing of the flames I could start to make out a great Hall beyond. I tried to move to the other side of the fire to reach it, but it remained in the same place, only dancing in the flames. The voices were coming from the revelers in the Great Hall. The smells were coming from there, as well.
"Figured it out yet, boy?" asked the all-too-familiar voice of the Old Man.
Although I couldn't see him anywhere, his voice was strong and clear. It was like he was on the far side of the fire talking to me, but I couldn't see him no matter where I turned. I could hear him chuckling as he watched me frantically searching for him.
"You won't find me like that, son," he added, with mirth in his voice.
I stopped moving and went back to staring into the flames.
"Where are you?" I asked.
"I am where I always am," he replied enigmatically.
The longer I stared into the flames, the more details I could make out. I could just make out the Old Man. He was seated on a raised dais, gazing down upon the revelers. Seated next to him were two massive wolves and perched on his shoulders were the two ravens that I had been seeing since all this began. No longer was he dressed in the tattered clothing that he wore when I met him in the Freeman camp. His gaunt and emaciated frame was replaced with the robustness of a warrior in his prime, despite the whiteness of his hair and beard. He was resplendent in his armor and weapons. For the first time, I was gazing upon the true form of the All-Father. I was more than awed.
"Valhalla," I found myself whispering.
"Indeed," he said, staring right at me through the flames.
None of the other revelers seemed to hear us or notice that anything was amiss. They continued on, as if all that mattered was the revel.
I could see a massive figure stride into the room, holding his great war-hammer. I knew that it had to be Thor, but somehow it resembled Snake. There were others there, as well. I could see one who my mind knew was Heimdall, but the features were unmistakably Bergelmir's. Seated near the fire was a figure that I knew had to be the God Ullr, but it was Bridgett who was seated by the fire, clad in the gear of the God of the Hunt. It was definitely Bridgett. There seemed to be no concern that she was supposed to be a man. I knew it was because great deeds were recognized for what they were; Great Deeds. She was welcomed as a warrior in this hall.
Butcher was there dressed in the garb of Tyr, the one handed God of War. Marko was Forseti, the God of Justice. There were other Gods there but I did not know their names or faces. I knew that they were Gods, from their attire and I knew I should know them but my memory was clouded. All of the Einherjar were there except me.
"Figured it out yet, boy?" asked the All-Fat
her, again.
"Are they the new Gods?" I asked, confusion clouding my thoughts even further.
"No, son," said Odin, softly. "But that is how you perceive them. Each of you was given a part to play in this ever-changing cycle of Ragnarok. Each of you took on the aspect of a God and played your role. It will be through your deeds that the tales of us will grow and live on. In the coming generations, the things you all have accomplished will become the next great Sagas. By the time your children's children have children of their own, they will speak your names as if you truly were Gods. It is how we continue to be reborn through the cycle of Ragnarok."
"So we had no choice, then?" I asked, anger rising in me.
"Nothing like that, son," he replied. "The tapestries of your lives are woven, but even I cannot see their ending. It will be the choices you make and the things you achieve that will live on and honor our names."
"What about all of the Gods that are here that we weren't representing?" I asked.
"Just as you and your people are not the only survivors," he explained, "yours are not the only deeds that are worth remembering. Other people are playing different roles in faraway places. There are even others among your own people who have yet to fulfill their destinies."
"Who?" I wondered.
"You shall see, in time," he answered, nodding sagely. "We have spoken enough, for now."
"But I still have so many questions," I said, shaking my head.
"And you will have all your answers," he said, softly. "In time."
Before I could say anything else, the fire was gone and I was plunged into darkness once more. This time, it was absolute. I felt nothing. No warmth or cold, no danger or peace. There was only the void and an infinity of time that seemed to pass. My mind continued to go over the lessons that I had learned, evaluating and processing each nuance. The implications were staggering.
Ragnarok Rising: Desolation: Book Five of the Ragnarok Rising Saga Page 34
