Draugr had appeared on earth several years ago. With the strength of monsters and near-human intelligence, they had proven a match for human civilization. Only the best of fighters had ever returned from a one-on-one match with a draugr.
“Nevertheless,” Zeke said, “I’m not taking any chances. I still have to make my way back to the city. I imagine you do, too. Unless, of course, you’ve come to kill me.” He raised his blade slightly.
“No.” Daniel instinctively took a step back. “I haven’t come to kill you. Why do you say that?”
“Agents of the Karellan are everywhere.”
Zeke had caught several government agents patrolling his neighborhood in the past month. Such things were not uncommon under the Karellan’s leadership. No one was protected unless the overlord declared it. Spies were occasionally sighted throughout the cities, but lately he couldn’t shake the feeling of being watched.
Of being stalked.
Three days ago, he caught one of the Karellan’s spies watching him train. Since then he decided to take his chances training outside the city.
Draugr, he felt, were less dangerous than humans.
“Well, no. I’m just a messenger. Not an assassin,” Daniel explained.
“A message? For me?”
“From the Supervisor.”
He wasn’t interested. The Supervisor was the Karellan’s sycophantic governor in charge of the slums of Nifelheim. In Zeke’s eyes, he was no better than the overlord himself. “Forget it,” he said.
“I’m afraid I have to tell you anyway. He wants to see you immediately.”
“Look. I’m no fan of the Karellan, but if it’s possible I like his lackeys even less. So you can climb down this mountain and tell that pompous leech to go . . .”
“Ariel,” he interjected calmly.
Zeke stopped. “What?”
“The supervisor thought you might not want to come, so he told me to mention the name ‘Ariel. ’ Is she a girlfriend or something?”
“He wouldn’t.” He unknowingly tightened his grip on his sword.
“He seemed pretty serious.”
Zeke stood silent, trying to keep calm. It didn’t surprise him. With so many spies following him, it was inevitable that one of them should learn about Ariel. He stood speechless. Angry.
“He’d like to see you today, if that’s possible,” Daniel continued.
He had no choice. “You any good with that thing, Clint?”
Daniel glanced down. His coat was open, revealing the shotgun hanging under his arm. “I don’t mean to brag, but it got me up here, didn’t it?”
“I don’t mean to belittle your skills, gunboy, but seven draugr are nothing compared to the hoards I saw in the valley this morning.”
“Hoards?” he said in disbelief. “But draugr usually travel alone.”
“Yeah, well, what do I know?” Zeke retorted. “Probably just rumors anyway, right?” He walked over to a rock and pulled out a small bag. Throwing it over his shoulder, he began walking.
“Where are you going?”
“Well, I thought I’d head back to town.”
“But Nifelheim is this way.” Daniel pointed back in the direction he came from.
“Right, and so is a nice hike over the next five mountains until it drops you off in the wastelands surrounding the city. If we go my way, it’s a two hour walk down the mountain and a ten minute walk to Nifelheim’s north gate.”
He waited. Daniel followed him, embarrassed.
They set off down the path, but hadn’t gone ten steps before they heard the draugr hoard scream. Zeke put out his hand, signaling a halt.
“What is it?” the boy asked.
“Those draugr aren’t hurt. They’re scared.” The two men stood silent. There was only one thing on earth capable of frightening monsters as powerful of draugr.
Malak.
Mysterious beings comprised of energy, they existed in the world, but somehow outside of it as well. Draugr could be defeated—they were strong, but not invincible. Malak, on the other hand, had never been so much as scratched since they had first appeared on Earth several hundred years ago. Ordinary weapons passed straight through their bodies as if they were ghosts. But unlike ghosts, they could make themselves felt when they wanted to be.
And their touch never failed to destroy their victims.
A flash of unearthly light shot from the valley. “It’s a malak, all right,” Zeke said. “Looks like we’re taking your route.”
“Six hours of hiking through draugr infested mountains because of one malak?”
He felt like he was talking to a child. “These are the things that wiped out the entire North American continent. Not even cockroaches live there now.”
“Yeah, but wasn’t that a whole bunch of them?”
Zeke held up his katana. “I can cut draugr. If you want to tangle with the malak, be my guest, but I’m going to stick to the hoard of things that can die instead of the one thing that can’t.” He turned and started walking. He didn’t wait.
The boy hesitated, then dashed after him. “I’m Daniel. Daniel Uzuki.”
“Stay close, and try not to cause problems. This could get tricky.”
The two men set off together down the path that would lead to the next mountain.
As enclosed as they had felt on the cloudy mountain top, they were far from alone. Standing in the valley that had been, until a moment ago, filled with draugr, the malak watched them go.
It was unusual for a malak to choose a human shape, although this one had done so. He had grown fond of it. Human form was perfect for using tools—for adapting. Also unlike other malak, he had a mission. Right now, he needed to follow. He slung two massive broadswords—each too large for a human to wield—across his back, and set off through the trees.
The two draugr seemed to have caught a rabbit. One of them held the ex-lagomorph in his small hand, prodding it with its claws, looking for blood. How terribly vampiric, Zeke thought as he watched the monsters’ behavior through the small binoculars. As far as anyone knew, draugr didn’t eat solid food.
Only blood.
The second draugr lumbered slowly to the first. This one was larger. It didn’t move as fast. Both his hands were clawed, but they were small—possibly broken. When the monster reached up to grab the carcass, the first one hissed and beat him back.
“They don’t look very fast,” said Daniel, squinting to see in the distance.
Draugr came in several varieties, plenty of shapes and sizes. They could have been compared to human races, were it not a taboo practice.
Most important of all the demons’ attributes, though, was speed. Some of them were fast—strikingly fast. It was not uncommon for the monsters to chase down cars. There were several accounts of small groups of draugr taking down wild horses. A hunter in Africa had once discovered an adult cheetah, drained of blood. These were the most dangerous of all the draugr—the fast ones.
The two beasts that appeared on the path before them, however, lumbered slowly, like zombies. Neither of the men felt much fear, although Zeke was wary enough to suspect others nearby.
Daniel leveled his shotgun on the rock. “I can take them out from here.”
The swordsman stayed calm. “You pull that trigger and we’ll have bigger problems to worry about. I suggest you put that away, gunboy.”
“What do you mean?” He relaxed the gun.
“These guys aren’t winning any track meets, and they don’t appear to be very smart, but they don’t have to be. If that gun goes off, every God-forsaken monster on this mountain will know we’re here, and I’m damn sure that at least half of them will understand where to find their next meal.”
“So what do we do?”
“We do nothing. But I plan on slicing their heads off before they get a chance to scream. Then we’d better get out of here quickly because every monster downwind of us is going to smell their blood, and we can expect about fifty of these bastards, droolin
g and ready for dinner.”
“And me?” Daniel subconsciously pulled his shotgun hard to his chest.
Zeke pushed it down with one finger. “Ease up on them hammers, gunboy. You just step softly, follow me, and try not to die.”
He creeps out from their hiding place. Daniel follows, mildly dejected. They stick to the meager cover of the bushes. The draugr, fighting over the rabbit corpse, take no notice of them.
In one fluid movement, Zeke leaps out of the bush, his sword swinging down to meet the first draugr’s neck. It continues unhindered until it emerges from the monster’s body just below its arm. He pays no attention to the cloven torso dropping from the body and shifts his foot to turn away from the second monster.
The draugr believes its prey is vulnerable. It runs slowly, ready to kill.
Zeke’s fingers fly. The sword spins in his hand. He catches it reversed, the blade pointing back along his arm. He pushes the blade backwards, under his shoulder.
He feels a strong jerk, and he knows the monster has impaled itself on the blade.
Daniel, awestruck by the display, notices the third draugr a moment too late. “Behind you!” he calls.
The new opponent is fast. Its claws are long, sharp.
Zeke spins around. The sword follows. Catching the blade with his free hand, he blocks the draugr’s slash. He gives the monster a strong push. The draugr steps back, but doesn’t fall. Immediately, it stabs its claws forward. Zeke holds the sword out. The monster slices its hand on the blade. A shriek of pain echoes across the mountainside.
The monster punches, dropping the fighter to the ground.
The draugr is on top of him. Daniel raises his gun, but the shot isn’t clear. He can’t hit the monster without hitting Zeke.
The swordsman kicks. The demon flies up slightly and lands on its feet. Claws stab. A sword swings. A cracked, dried arm falls to the ground.
The blade shoots up from the ground, finishing the monster.
Daniel relaxed when Zeke stood up, but the ex-soldier showed no signs of relief. He flicked the blood from off blade, but did not sheath it. “We have to go. I suspect that last shriek roughly translates to ‘dinner’s on. ’”
The ground started shaking. The first signs of the impending stampede.
“I’m inclined to agree,” Daniel said.
“Into the trees! Now!” As it was part of his training, Zeke found the task simple. He leapt up, kicked off the trunk of a sturdy tree, and caught the lower branch with his free hand, gently pulling himself to safety.
Daniel was not so graceful. Kicking off the trunk was beyond his skill. Instead he crouched down, then sprang straight up, missing the branch. In a mild panic, he raced to the trunk and tried to bear-climb his way up. Zeke reached down and grabbed his frantic hand, pulling him into the boughs.
The draugr stampede broke through the trees. Hundreds of draugr passed below them, paying no attention to them or the bloody corpses on the ground. Their screams were terrible. These draugr were not hungry. They were frightened.
And in a moment, they were gone.
The men climbed down from the tree.
“I’ve never seen so many of them together,” Daniel said.
“They were scared of something.”
“Scared? Draugr?”
“I know,” said Zeke, seeming unusually cooperative. “You want to get out of here?”
“When scary things get scared—that’s generally a bad thing, right?”
“I don’t want to stick around to see what’s scaring them.”
“I’m with you on that one.”
“Let’s go gunboy.”
But Daniel didn’t move. Instead he raised his gun. Zeke raised his sword defensively, but the gun fired before he could act.
A draugr fell dead by his feet. The shot had hit it in mid-stride.
“Let’s can the ‘gunboy’ talk, shall we?”
“You finished?” Zeke was unimpressed.
“Yeah.”
“Then let’s go.
Chapter Two: Nifelheim
The monolith towered over them, dark and metallic, surrounded by a cloud of smog.
Despite being collectively referred to as Nifelheim, it was essentially two different worlds--the slums sprawled across the earth, smothered under the shadow of a massive metal plate suspended high above it, and the upper city built on top of that plate, basking in the sun. The two cities shared little in common.
In the 23rd century the malak appeared suddenly, flooding through North America. Millions of people fled to South America, Europe or East Asia. The rest were killed. There was no in between. Within a matter of weeks, the entire continent became a wasteland.
The monsters were concentrated in North America, but they were not confined there. Every remaining nation on the planet began to look for a way of fighting back.
However, after initial defensive measures failed, people panicked. No longer trying to fight, they sought to hide from their fears. Survivors from an attack on a German village observed that the deadly beings seemed to rise out of the ground. Nearly everyone took their word as fact. Desperate for action, most nations ordered gigantic plates to be built one hundred meters above the earth.
The idea was to climb out of reach. To safety. Many people mistook the plate cities as a godsend, although there were occasionally rumors of malak sightings, even in the highest of cities.
The largest of these cities was Nifelheim. Formerly the city of Seoul, Korea, Nifelheim was easy to build. The Korean mountains provided natural support, and the city had plenty of buildings to scrap for materials. Although it continued to be called Seoul until the Karellan came to power eight years ago, the ancient city died ages ago, when they built the plate.
It was the same in Rome. And Beijing. And London, Cairo, and Pretoria. Hundreds of cities across the globe had all died and been reborn in a perverted image of itself, one hundred meters into the sky.
Post-modern towers of babel.
Zeke arrived when it was still known as Seoul, ten years ago, after the war. The idea was to get as far away from Rome as possible.
To safety.
Two years later, the Karellan showed up. After uniting the world in the post-war chaos, he chose Seoul as his capital. The change in name was his idea. No one understood why.
Zeke despised the Karellan and wanted to leave. But it had been difficult getting Ariel there from Rome, and he was afraid she wouldn’t survive another journey in her condition. Above all, he was charged with keeping her safe. And secret.
She was his only concern as he arrived at the city’s western gate.
“We should hurry,” Daniel said. “The supervisor will be waiting for you, but he’s usually gone home by now.”
“Then he’ll wait longer. I need to check on something.”
He had been briefed. He knew Zeke would be uncooperative. “We need to go now. We’ve already wasted too much time in the mountains. He’ll be upset.”
“Good.”
“That’s right. You don’t like him.” The boy let out a frustrated sigh.
“He’s taking his life into his hands, asking for an audience with me and threatening Ariel.” Zeke was difficult to read, but he seemed serious.
Daniel, however, didn’t mind. His loyalty was not with the Supervisor. His orders came from elsewhere.
“You’ll just have to run along and tell Dumah that he’ll have to wait some more.” He saw the boy open his mouth to protest and interrupted before he could speak. “I will come to him. He can be sure of that.”
He started down toward the gate. Daniel didn’t follow. Zeke was grateful.
The lower city was hell. Centuries without sunlight or water had killed all the natural vegetation in the city. The dim lighting that hung from the plate gave the impression of eternal night. The sun did not shine here—only neon lights from the seedier districts. The original pavement from Seoul’s roads had long since been removed. Maintaining concrete was expensive
and unnecessary. The earth was solid, hard. So the government simply left the ground bare.
The residents lived in small shacks. Nothing had a good foundation. The earth was too strong, and their tools were too weak. In a few places, foundations of original buildings had not been worn away by time, but the materials had been scrapped to build the plate above them.
It was simple. Almost allegorical, had it not been real. The Upper-City, for the Upper Class. And in the lower city, people lived in shacks. Meager houses. In some places, holes in the ground.
The only sturdy buildings belonged to the bureaucrats sent down by the Karellan to shepherd the lower-city. Supervisor Dumah and his administration.
Zeke’s home was stronger than most. Few residents were strong enough to venture beyond the city’s walls. He alone had access to the mountains and all the resources of the forests that still grew there.
His house was strong, but that is not to say it was any nicer than the rest of the homes in the lower city. And strong wood could not conceal secrets forever.
“Ariel!” he called as he threw open the door.
A small, sickly girl sat up in bed. She was in her late twenties, but she looked much older, having been severely wounded during the Roman conflict. Although her wounds had healed, she had never fully recovered.
She stood up to greet him. “You’re back! I had the most wonderful dream.”
“Hey, be careful, there. Don’t hurt yourself.”
“Don’t be silly. I’m fine. I’ve been going for walks every day when you’re out. Today I made it to the end of the street and back without getting tired.”
Zeke cringed. He was elated to hear she was trying to get stronger, but he was worried she wasn’t strong enough. “Outside? In the city?”
“That’s as outside as anyone can get these days,” she said, half-condescending. “I’m glad that you worry about me, but you’re paranoid. There’s nothing out there that’s going to get me.”
“Are you sure? You didn’t see anyone suspicious? No one came to the house?”
Ragnarok: The Fate of Gods Page 2
