Escaping the Cataclysm

by Keith Robinson

  Mack and the others ran down the steps, constantly glancing over their shoulders as if expecting to be attacked at any moment. Reaching the street, they stood near Goliath and stared back at the shop, their hearts beating rapidly in their chests. Slowly, Goliath crawled toward the stone column near the steps and propped himself up against it. After several moments of doing nothing more than breathe, Jeffrey finally looked at Mack questioningly. “What…what happened in there?”

  His nerves having calmed sufficiently, Mack motioned for the others to move off the street and into the four-foot alley between Arngrim’s shop and the neighboring building. Goliath, still weak, moved over to sit against the cold marble wall of the building, his eyes closed as he listened. Mack quickly told the others what Vidarr had said, keeping his voice low so as not to be overheard by those passing by on the street. When he finished, Jerome stared at Jeffrey, fear reflected in his eyes. “What are we going to do now? Arngrim was our only hope! We’re at a dead end. I…I can’t die here! I need to get back to my family!”

  For once, Jeffrey had no words of consolation. They had tried, and failed. Now, it seemed there was nothing left to do but wait for the end.

  “Oh, shut up!” Goliath said, opening his eyes and staring coldly at Jerome. “I’m so sick of your whining.”

  A sudden rage welled up in Jerome, causing him to turn on Goliath. “You’re telling me to shut up? We wouldn’t even be in this predicament if you and your ape-man buddy hadn’t tried to kill us in the first place!”

  Goliath, almost fully recovered from his encounter with Vidarr stood to his feet, his huge frame towering over Jerome. “Oh, so the coward has found his backbone, has he?” he said, taunting the smaller man. His own frustration at their situation, as well as the humiliation just visited upon him by Vidarr and the Nephilim served to fuel his own rage. “My fault, huh? That’s right, I’m the big bad guy, and you’re just the innocent victim, right? Well guess what, you’re no different than me. Hercules and I did what we did for the money, just the same as you. In fact, if it hadn’t been for you, we wouldn’t be in this situation either!”

  The blood drained out of Jerome’s face, leaving his dark skin ashen and sickly. Realizing he had pushed too far, he simply stared at Goliath without replying, a pleading look on his face. Jeffrey, Rebecca, and Mack all looked at Jerome, a feeling of dread settling into their hearts. The five of them stood in silence for several seconds, the tension in the alley palpable.

  “What’s he talking about, Jerome?” Jeffrey asked, fearing the answer.

  Jerome blinked, as if coming out of a trance. Glancing at Jeffrey, he stammered, “I…I don’t know.”

  “Since we’re all probably going to die tomorrow, I think it’s time we’re honest with each other, don’t you?” Goliath said, his voice mocking. “You go first. Why don’t you tell all of your friends about your little side job.”

  Jerome stared at Goliath, a mixture of anger, fear, and guilt carved into his face. “How…how do you know?”

  “You first,” the giant reiterated, a cruel smile twisting his lip.

  Jerome stared at the ground for several seconds without speaking. Hot tears fell onto the stone pavement beneath his feet as he began his explanation, his voice low, causing the others to strain just to hear him. “When Joy got into that car accident on her prom night, Tarshwa and I…we…we were so scared that she would die. But, she made it. She lived…

  “But once she recovered, the…the medical bills started pouring in. We used up what little savings we had, including the kids’ college funds. After awhile, we were forced to sell some of our things just to keep our heads above water. And then…” he paused, his throat constricting. “I figured out a way to get us out of the debt.”

  He looked up at each of them, his eyes full of remorse. As his gaze settled onto Jeffrey, he continued. “I…I’m so sorry, Jeffrey. I’m the one that sold the technical specs for the gravity control device.”

  Jeffrey, Rebecca, and Mack sat motionless, their minds paralyzed by shock. Jeffrey, his face revealing his conflicting emotions, reached out and placed a hand on Jerome’s shoulder. “Why…why didn’t you tell us? You should have asked us for help. We could have…”

  “I didn’t think it would be that big of a deal,” Jerome said. “Who cares if some Arabs got hold of the blueprints to a gravity control device? It’s not like it’s a weapon.”

  “But you sold it to terrorists!” Jeffrey shot back, his anger rising. “Imagine what they could do with that technology!”

  The statement hung in the air until Goliath’s slow clapping suddenly broke the stillness. “Bravo. Nicely done. You worked on their sympathy to deflect their anger.”

  Jeffrey spun to face the giant, a disgusted look on his face. “So, how do you fit into all of this? How did you know about Jerome selling the plans?”

  Goliath smiled crookedly. “Did you really think the terrorists would be content with the technical specs of a gravity control device when they knew that an even greater piece of technology had been discovered? No. They wanted the technical journals for the pyramid as well. But they knew it would be extremely difficult to accomplish. So, they hired the best mercenaries they could find.”

  “You and Hercules, I suppose,” Jeffrey said in sudden understanding. “But that doesn’t explain your advanced technology or why you resemble those bodyguards.”

  Goliath’s head snapped around as Jeffrey finished the sentence. “The bodyguards!” he said in concern. “Where are they? They were supposed to wait for us.”

  Two large forms suddenly blocked the narrow alleyway, their shadows falling upon the group. Turning as one, Rebecca and the others barely had time to brace themselves before the animal-like men attacked. One of the former bodyguards dove directly into Goliath, knocking him off his feet. The second sprang upon Jeffrey and Jerome. With a few well-placed blows from his fists, the attacker sent the two men sprawling onto the ground, blood flowing from their split lips and lacerated faces.

  Springing into action, Rebecca fumbled with her robes in an attempt to reach her gun. With Jeffrey and Jerome down, one of the wolf-like warriors turned his attention on Mack and Rebecca. Mack, hoping to avoid a blow, dropped to the ground and covered his head. Ignoring him, the mercenary swung at Rebecca. Reacting swiftly, she ducked the attack, her Marine training kicking in. Rolling to her left, she regained her feet and finally pulled her weapon free.

  But she was too late.

  Sensing that the thing in her hand was some kind of weapon, her attacker kicked out at her, sending the pistol flying as it discharged, missing its target. Weaponless, Rebecca tried to kick her opponent, but he used his size and strength to quickly overpower her.

  Pinning her to the ground, he stared at her hungrily, his expression striking fear into her heart. She could tell that he wanted more than just her money. Memories of the horrors she had witnessed on the streets during their journey through the city flashed through her mind, causing her to cry out in panic. Seeing his victim’s fear only served to inflame her attacker’s excitement.

  Glancing around, Rebecca searched frantically for someone to help her. What she saw caused despair to overwhelm her. Goliath appeared unconscious, as did Jeffrey and Jerome. The other mercenary stood over Mack as he pulled the pouches containing the coins from beneath his robes and handed them to him. No one would come to her rescue. “Oh God!” she cried out, closing her eyes to ward off the sight of the grotesque animal-like man above her. “Father, save us!”

  The sound of something large whistled through the air, followed by a bone-shattering thud. The weight on top of her disappeared, causing her to open her eyes in surprise. The body of her attacker lay several feet away from her, its arms and legs splayed out in all directions. Glancing back toward Mack, she watched in awe as an enormous hammer with a rectangular head made out of metal slammed full force into the chest of the second mercenary, sending his body flying several feet down the alley. Before the hammer hit th
e ground, it suddenly reversed direction and began flying back toward the street. Watching in dumbfounded amazement, she saw a thin line of bluish light pulling the handle of the weapon back toward the outstretched hand of its master, like the recoiling of a whip.

  Rebecca sucked in her breath at the sight of the figure, dread and terror seizing her heart in a vice-like grip. For standing at the edge of the alleyway was an enormous being that exuded power and strength. Although he was in the form of a man, Rebecca knew with frightening certainty that this thing was not a man at all. Her rescuer was one of the sons of God, a false god…a demon.

  18

  Asgard

  Rebecca stared up at the being, her heart beating rapidly. He stood at least a foot higher than anyone they had seen thus far, including the twelve-foot-tall Nephilim. His barrel-shaped chest was covered with a brown leather tunic replete with golden symbols and runes that hung past his waist and was cinched with a wide yellow belt. Matching wraps of yellow cloth were wound tightly around his massive legs, starting at his knees and ending at the tops of his ankle-high leather shoes, keeping his tan pants held tightly against his skin. Gauntlets of the same dark leather were strapped tightly to his otherwise bare forearms. He wore no helmet on his head, but had his thick, rust-colored hair pulled back tightly into a braid that was draped over his left shoulder. His beard was gathered into two short braids that hung down from his chin like fangs. Brushing aside the flowing, dark blue cloak that was draped over his left shoulder, the man slipped the handle of his mighty hammer through his belt.

  Although Rebecca knew that this man, this thing, was pure evil, she was nevertheless caught off guard by his handsome appearance. His face had a rugged beauty to it that captivated her, and his majesty and power were enticing. The eyes that stared down at her were like deep pools of darkness that could see straight into her soul and read her innermost thoughts.

  A voice suddenly spoke from somewhere near the false god. Blinking, Rebecca felt the spell that had bound her loosen its hold. Looking toward the source of the voice, she saw a much smaller figure standing next to the false god, its pale face and clothing was all too familiar.

  “A Blood Drinker,” Rebecca heard Mack mutter from somewhere behind her. Glancing in his direction, she saw that his skin was deathly white and he was shaking noticeably. Catching her gaze, Mack stared back at her, his voice quivering. “It said, ‘That is them, Mighty Thor.’ That’s the Norse god of thunder! And the vampire thing is…is dressed like…like one of those we fought off outside the Ark. We must have missed one. If it followed us all the way here then…then it knows where the pyramid is located!”

  Battling with her own fear, Rebecca didn’t reply. A command from Thor brought her attention back to him. The false god seemed to be studying her, and, based upon his expression and narrowed eyes, he did not like what he saw. A Naphil suddenly squeezed into the alley and before Rebecca could react, she felt his massive arms scoop her up and carry her out of the alley. Other Nephilim entered the cramped space between the buildings, each one returning with another of her friends. The giants dropped Rebecca, Mack, Jeffrey, and Jerome onto the ground in front of Thor and, after yanking off their robes, they proceeded to remove any and all items they found from their captive’s pockets, including Rebecca’s gun, their commlinks, Noah’s money pouches, and the swords they had acquired from the Blood Drinkers. Once the Nephilim had finished collecting the items, they shook Jeffrey and Jerome roughly until they awoke. As the two men came to their senses, they shrunk back from their captors in shock. Mack and Rebecca reached out to their friends and the four of them sat huddled close together on the ground, surrounded on all sides by Thor and his entourage.

  “What…what’s going on?” Jeffrey said, his face marked with fear and confusion.

  Rebecca barely had time to explain the situation before the demon-god barked a command. The six Nephilim soldiers forced the group to their feet and began herding them toward the river. The captives walked along in silence, their fear preventing their minds from formulating words. Around them, crowds of people stared in curiosity and amusement, hoping that perhaps their god would hurl the prisoners into the mighty river. The same thought occupied the minds of Rebecca and her companions as well, causing them to tremble visibly. Rough hands pushed and half carried the group to keep them moving, the captors growing more and more agitated with the prisoners’ lack of cooperation.

  Although Thor led the group to the riverbank, it was not the rocky location where the baby had been so callously discarded. Instead, he led them to a pair of magnificent golden gates that were set into a twenty-foot-high marble wall on the northern side of gigantic “World Tree” that towered over them in the center of the courtyard. The wall extended away from the gates only a short distance before ending at the steep banks of the river. The gates appeared to be guarding nothing more than a short, cobblestone walkway that ended at the river’s edge. Standing at attention were two Nephilim, one on each side of the gate. The giants each held a wicked-looking sword in front of them, the points resting against the ground.

  As Thor and his entourage drew within ten feet of the gate, one of the two sentinels pressed several buttons that were set into a panel on the marble wall. A moment later, the gates began to swing open of their own accord.

  Before the terrified captives could begin to guess as to why they were being led to this gate, they drew back in surprise as a multi-colored beam of energy leapt forth from the end of the cobblestoned walkway. The ten-foot-wide beam shimmered as the light of the evening sun struck it.

  Without fear, Thor strode toward the rainbow-colored light bridge and began crossing it, followed by the Blood Drinker. As the Nephilim pushed the prisoners toward the bridge, the gates began to close behind them.

  “The Bifrost Bridge,” Jeffrey whispered, having finally found his voice now that the immediate threat of death had receded. “They’re taking us to Asgard.” Stepping onto the bridge, Jeffrey could see that it rose at a gentle angle across the river and ended at a pair of identical gates on the edge of the city of the Aesir.

  “What is the Bifrost Bridge?” Rebecca asked quietly as she glanced at their captors to see if they were going to punish their victims for conversing. The giants, however, didn’t seem to care.

  “In Norse mythology, it’s a burning rainbow bridge between Midgard and Asgard,” Jeffrey replied. “And if the rest of the legends are true, then the bridge will end at Heiminbjorg, the residence of the god Heimdall. He guards it from the Jotnar, which, we now know, are the Nephilim.”

  The conversation ceased for the next several minutes as Asgard’s majesty and beauty overwhelmed the captives with each step they took toward it. The steep cliffs that led from the river up to the walls of the city made it appear as if the ground itself was lifting the city of the gods into the air in worship. Rebecca and the others could now see that the bluish glow that they had seen from afar was some kind of energy field that ran down the center of the city, dividing it into the separate domains of the Aesir and Vanir. Another gate was set into the wall on the Vanir side of the city.

  Risking a glance behind them, Jeffrey scanned as much of the plaza as he could see. Unfortunately, the trunk of the massive tree blocked most of his view. “Did anyone see what happened to Goliath?” he asked, keeping his voice low.

  Rebecca and Mack both shook their heads, the latter fighting hard to keep his gaze fixed upon their destination and not on the ever-widening gap between them and the raging river below. “I didn’t see any of the Nephilim pull him out of the alley. Perhaps they didn’t think he was one of us because of his height,” Rebecca said, trying to keep her own nerves in check.

  “Well, if he’s still alive, perhaps he can get back to the pyramid and tell the others what happened,” Jeffrey said.

  “A lot of good that will do,” Jerome said, near panic coloring his voice. “There’s no way they’re going to be able to rescue us while we’re surrounded by beings that make the Ne
philim look like wimps.”

  “No kidding,” Mack said finally. “Now I know how Frodo and Sam felt. I feel as tiny as a hobbit next to these guys.”

  Taking his hand in her own and squeezing it gently, Rebecca tried to give him a reassuring smile, but the gesture merely served to communicate her own uncertainty. “Pray, Mack. We are never alone. There is always hope.”

  Nodding, he returned his gaze to the gates before them as he joined Rebecca in silent prayer.

  Once they had reached the top of the bridge, the gates of Asgard swung open. Standing just inside the gate was another of the false gods. Instead of the leather armor that Thor wore, gold-trimmed, silver armor protected this being’s enormous body. A shining helmet studded with a pair of horns sat atop his head and covered much of his blonde hair. One of his hands lay on a large animal’s horn that hung from a strap around his torso, while the other held a fifteen-foot-long spear that rested on the stones beneath his feet.

  “Heimdall,” Jeffrey whispered to the others while Thor and the gatekeeper exchanged brief words. A moment later, Thor looked back at the Nephilim and indicated for them to follow. As the captives passed between the gates, Rebecca saw that Heimdall was staring at her and Mack with disgust, the hand holding the spear twitching in irritation. Shrinking under the perusal, Rebecca nervously began cracking her knuckles against her thigh.

  The splendor of the rose-colored walls of the gatehouse was completely lost on Rebecca. For although the tapestries, statues, and architecture around them was more beautiful than any place she had ever seen, the pervasive sense of evil that surrounded her leeched away any positive feelings she might have otherwise enjoyed.

  Human slaves scurried quickly out of the way as the god of thunder passed. Rebecca felt an intense sadness as she guessed at the many ways in which these poor people had been abused and mistreated by their ‘gods.’ Yet, despite her feelings of compassion, she also knew that these people had rejected their true God, and were living with the consequences of that choice.