by Adam Ingle
“Pick up the pace!” yelled Mestoph.
“That’s funny coming from the guy in last place,” said Leviticus between labored breaths.
The Angel leaned forward and started gaining speed as they continued to run for the bridge, but they suddenly noticed that Bifrost wasn’t there anymore. They looked left and right along the lip of the chasm, but there was no bridge. They were now running roughly parallel to the path that had led them from the bridge to the stairs up to Valaskjalf, but where the path met the chasm it ended into a rocky nub with two figures standing at the edge. Leviticus turned to look back at Mestoph and saw Surtr close in behind them; the giant was beginning to swing his flaming sword again. Leviticus tackled Mestoph, and they tumbled to the ground as the sword swooped above them. Surtr followed through with the miss, then raised the sword up above his head and started to bring it down between Mestoph and Leviticus. They rolled out of the way but were hit by a wave of flames that pushed them in opposite directions.
There were screams from behind Surtr, and from between the Jötunn’s massive legs Mestoph saw a small band of twenty or so Valkyries led by the rotund Brynhildr, who looked like an angry bumblebee in flight. Surtr looked down at Mestoph and Leviticus and then back to the charging Valkyries. He let out a deep sigh that blew acrid breath in Mestoph and Leviticus’s faces, making them gag. Surtr pointed down at the two of them like he was telling them to stay put and then turned to face the Valkyries, his hand still on the pommel of the sword he had stabbed into the earth.
With his attention diverted, the Angel and Demon pulled themselves to their feet and hobbled off. Mestoph’s dreads were singed and a few of the locks broke off like fuzzy icicles when he moved. Leviticus helped him to the remains of the bridge where Stephanie and Marcus stood.
Mestoph heard a grunt of confusion behind him and turned to see Surtr struggling with the sword stuck in the ground. He had driven it down too far and now couldn’t pull it free. He and Leviticus paused to watch. The Jötunn struggled futilely with the jammed sword as all of the Valkyries struck him in the chest all at once. Surtr howled, which sent several Valkyrie spiraling to the ground dead or unconscious. Then the giant lost his balance and fell back against the sword. The flaming blade wavered back and forth for a moment, and then there was an ear-splitting ping as it shattered. The sword exploded into an enormous ball of fire that engulfed Surtr, the Valkyrie, and everything else within a hundred yards.
Marcus and Stephanie stood at the edge of what was left of Bifrost Bridge and looked down, hoping it was going to be like the movies and the dog would somehow scrabble up the edge of the chasm and they would all have a good laugh about what a close call it was. After several minutes of staring wordlessly into the abyss, it became obvious that a miracle was never going to happen. Tears began to roll down Marcus’s face, and he turned to Stephanie. She put her arms around him and pulled him close, and she began to cry as well.
“He was my best friend, and I hardly knew him…the real him,” said Marcus.
They might have stood there forever, had not the exploding snake gotten their attention and broken their embrace. Now they watched an injured Mestoph and Leviticus run from the giant Surtr as the Valkyries rammed into his chest, knocking him over. Then everything was consumed by an explosion of fire and debris. The ground began to rumble and then it started to crack. Great geysers set fire to anything that Surtr hadn’t already burned with his sword. What was left of the bridge crumbed at the edges. Ahead and to the right was nothing but flame and ruin, and neither Marcus nor Stephanie thought being so close to the edge of the chasm was a great idea. Their only option was the small copse of woods at their right, near what was left of Heimdall’s log cabin.
They ran for the trees as bits and pieces of rock, charred wood, and metallic splinters of sword began to rain down. They passed a single ash tree, much larger than any of the others, and Stephanie pulled Marcus to a halt. The tree was old and gnarly, puckered with scars that showed it had survived a great deal of chaos and turmoil. Near the base of the trunk there was a gaping wound just big enough for a person—or two—to squeeze through. Stephanie had a sudden flash of her dream about Asgard, and she remembered this tree. She had seen her Grams pointing at it, and inside the hollow she had seen herself peering back out.
“In there,” she said, pointing to the opening in the tree.
Marcus looked at her with doubt in his eyes, unsure if she meant what he thought she did. There was such confidence in the look she returned that his doubt disappeared and he nodded his head. There was a great rumble as they climbed into the opening, and an explosion even louder than that of the sword. With one last glance back, Stephanie saw what was left of Valaskjalf, and most of the obsidian cliff it had been carved out of, burst like a dam as a torrent of lava broke through. The volcano beneath the glacier was blowing up, Vesuvius style.
Inside the tree, they curled up together, holding on tight to each other. There were more explosions, and the meager light grew and then flickered as lava flowed around the tree, catching it and everything else nearby on fire. Despite the flames, the tree never got more than just a bit warm and the dampened rumbling and tumbling created a womb-like atmosphere that, although cramped, was very comfortable. Even though the world was ending, their exhaustion and the tranquility of the hollow made them feel unnaturally at ease. They both felt themselves relaxing as tiny fingers of sleep pulled at the edges of their consciousness.
“Now is probably as a good a time as any to tell you,” said Stephanie.
“What’s that, love?” asked Marcus.
“I had another dream, more like a brief flash, when I passed out on the bridge. I think I’m pregnant,” said Stephanie.
Marcus laid his head against hers, and then they both fell asleep.
They were awakened by a bright light and the sound of running water. Marcus rubbed the sleepiness from his eyes and looked around. They were still inside the hollow of the tree, and Stephanie still leaning against him, only just stirring. She looked up at him and smiled; he smiled back. The aches and pains of being confined in such a small place crept into their joints and muscles, and they both had the sudden urge to get out of the tree. Marcus let Stephanie climb out first and followed her out.
When they left the safety of the tree, they had expected to be met by a dark and ruined wasteland, and for the most part they weren’t disappointed. There were several large flows of cooled lava that ran from the cone of the volcano and down over the edge of the chasm. A large icepack was melting around the volcano, sending torrents of glacial water down what was left of the obsidian cliff. The runoff formed several small rivers and streams in between the hardened lava. Although the sky was still cloudy, the unnatural storm had broken and the sun was shining through the gaps in the clouds. Even now, they were already blowing away into the distance. Where the rays of the sun shone through, there were sprouts and sprigs of grass and flowers coming up in between cracks of lava. The large ash tree they had hidden in was the only one that survived the destruction.
There was no way to tell exactly how long they had been asleep, but if the aches and pains were any indication, it had been years. Marcus and Stephanie quietly stretched and drank from one of the briskly cold and refreshingly clean glacial rivers. There weren’t any words to express what they felt after all they had been through, and seeing as they appeared to be the only ones left alive, they were content to enjoy the peace and quiet. There was no telling how long it was going to last, after all, and at some point they were going to have to figure out how to get back home.
Home: the idea felt empty to Marcus now. The home he knew didn’t feel right in his mind anymore. He had lost his best friend, even if he had gained something else in return, and the apartment he lived in felt empty and cold in his mind. The thought of raising a family was terrifying, but the thought of raising it back home was even more so. Not to mention that he and Stephanie had both probably lost their jobs by now.
Variations of the same theme were running through Stephanie’s mind, and the two only had to look at each other to know that they weren’t going to be able to go back to the lives they had lived before this. They would cross the next bridge when they came to it, but for now they just walked hand in hand through the new world that had formed around them and enjoyed the silence.
“Hey! Over here! Oh thank God, you guys made it,” rang the familiar voice of Leviticus.
In one of the wider rivers that ran down from the glacier was a large chunk of rock that stuck up out of the water like a big thumb. A charred and scarred Leviticus was standing atop the rocky island, waving to Marcus and Stephanie. Marcus sighed at the death of silence, and then they made their way to the bank of the river. It was slightly less than a hundred feet wide, but the water was moving swiftly and there was no way of knowing how deep it ran. Marcus stuck a foot in the frigid waters while holding on to Stephanie’s hand and then walked a few steps out. The two of them helped each other balance as they waded across the river, which never got higher than knee deep. When they got to the edge of the island, he noticed that Leviticus wasn’t alone. Lying on his back and breathing heavily was a seriously injured Mestoph. At the sound of their voices, the Demon raised his head shakily and gave a pained smile.
“Only the good die young,” he said weakly.
Although it probably wasn’t a good idea to move someone in his condition, there was absolutely no chance of helping him if they left him on the rock. Regardless of the trouble they had caused Marcus and Stephanie, they had risked their lives to save them in the end. Demon or not, Mestoph deserved at least a chance at happiness. If he died now, there was no telling where he would go or what would happen to him. Finally, Marcus decided to help ferry the ailing Demon across the river, and not just because standing in the frigid waters was beginning to make him shiver.
Leviticus pulled Mestoph by his armpits, lifting his badly burned chest off the rocks and leaving his feet to drag behind him. Both Mestoph and Leviticus were covered in small cuts and gashes, most of which seemed to have been partially cauterized by the flames, but Mestoph had clearly gotten the worst of it. His wounds were sparkling with hundreds of tiny slivers of Surtr’s shattered sword. His legs also didn’t seem to be working too well. Stephanie grabbed Mestoph by the shoulders from below, and Leviticus lowered him by his legs into Marcus’s waiting arms, and then both of them helped Marcus keep his balance in the strong current.
Once on the shore Marcus looked down at Mestoph. “I don’t know how far I can carry you, but we’ll find help,” he said.
Mestoph coughed, and blood came up in little flecks as he shook his head. “No, I’m not going any further. I’m just glad to be off that damn rock with that pussy of an Angel worrying a rut into it,” said Mestoph.
Leviticus explained that he had spent the last several hours searching for a way off the chunk of rock that used to be Asgard, but found it surrounded on three sides by the chasm, which was now full of lava, and the volcano on the other, which was also full of lava. If he could find something to make a stretcher maybe the three of them could carry Mestoph around the base of the volcano, but that would eventually mean scaling the glacier, which brought about a whole new set of problems. If they had anything sharp, they might be able to cut down the only tree that seemed to have survived the destruction intact and bridge the chasm, but other than the tips of swords and spears sticking out of the lava, there wasn’t a whole weapon to be found.
Neither Marcus nor Stephanie had any better ideas as to what to do. Getting out of there on their own appeared to be difficult enough; adding in the burden of carrying Mestoph seemed to make it impossible. Mestoph’s wet coughs made it sound like they didn’t have a whole lot of time. Even if they got across the chasm, and even in the unlikely event their horses were still waiting for them on the other side, it would take days to reach civilization. There was also the question of who could help a dying demon.
Mestoph suffered a particularly violent coughing fit, and long streaks of blood ran down the side of his mouth. One of the larger shards of sword debris oozed and bubbled every time he coughed, and he was wheezing thickly now even when he wasn’t coughing. They gave up the talk of getting Mestoph out alive and simply tried to make him comfortable.
“I’m sorry,” wheezed Mestoph.
“No, it’s OK. We survived. We’re going to be OK,” said Marcus.
“We hurt a lot of people. The shootout, the plane crash, fucking Ragnarok…none of it would’ve happened if it weren’t for us. I knew the risks, and I knew there would be collateral damage, but I didn’t really understand what it meant. I’m sorry about that,” said Mestoph.
“Well, on behalf of the human race, I forgive you,” said Marcus.
He looked to Stephanie, and she hesitated for only a moment. “Me too,” she said as a tear formed in the corner of her eye. She quickly wiped it away.
“I’m sorry too for dragging you into this, Leviticus,” said Mestoph.
“I knew what I was getting into. I’m as guilty as you are…maybe more so,” said the Angel.
“Maybe I’ll get lucky and see you on the other side, my friend.”
The two shook hands, and then Mestoph fell limply to the ground with a last wheezing gasp. Tears rolled down Leviticus’s face. He had never felt grief before; then again, he had never lost anyone. Mestoph might pop back up right away or he might not return at all, but Leviticus would always carry the pain of this moment. He turned to Marcus and Stephanie.
“I really am sorry. For everything.”
There were several loud pops as bursts of multicolored smoke appeared behind them. Everyone turned to look, and as the smoke cleared they saw God, Satan, St. Peter, and a tall redheaded man with a shaggy and oddly familiar beard.
Then Mestoph coughed and sat upright.
“God damn it!” he yelled.
Chapter 20
The End of the Beginning of The End
God walked toward them, his long flowing white robe billowing in an unseen wind as he looked around in wonder.
“Now that is how you do an end of the world,” he said.
Satan, dressed in a deep black suit with a stark white dress shirt and solid black tie, was not impressed.
“A little melodramatic don’t you think? Considering it’s not The End?” said Satan.
God shot Satan a disapproving look and waved him off.
“Don’t be a spoil sport. As far as the Norse were concerned, it was the only ending that mattered. And boy did they go out with style. Dramatic deaths, epic battles, explosions, and even a little bit of rebirth for good measure,” said God, pointing to Marcus and Stephanie.
St. Peter glanced around, confused, and then looked at the shaggy, ginger-haired man and took a quick sidestep, rubbing at his throat. The shaggy man turned and gave him a toothy grin, making a dramatic chomping motion at St. Peter.
“Boys, I didn’t bring you back to have you start misbehaving,” said God in a fatherly tone.
Although neither had met God or Satan before, Marcus and Stephanie both knew who they were seeing and were amazed. Leviticus smiled at Mestoph, who nodded toward God and raised his brows. He knew it was judgment time.
God walked over to Marcus and Stephanie and smiled down at them. He was several feet taller than either of them, but the warm look on his face kept it from being imposing. At that moment He had bushy, curly white hair and a thick but neatly trimmed beard, a lot like Kenny Rogers from The Gambler. He put a hand each on Marcus and Stephanie’s shoulders and they both felt a warmth and power flow through them. It was similar to the feeling Stephanie had when Heimdall had touched her, but infinitely stronger and warmer. Stephanie felt it in her belly and knew the tiny little seed that grew inside her could feel it as well.
“You two are going to be fine, and your son will live a full life,” said God. “I’ve always been fond of the name Daniel.”
“Alright, let’s get this over with,” said God as he snapped his fingers.
Appearing on the other side of Mestoph and Leviticus were three drastically differing people. One was an ancient woman in a nun’s habit who was looking at the Angel and Demon and clicking her tongue as she shook her head in disapproval. Next to her was a short, bald, almost perfectly round, Asian man with a permanent smile on his face. Then there was another man who was almost as old as the nun and wore thick glasses and a red pair of suspenders over a golf shirt and plaid pants.
“Can we get this over with? I’ve got a game to finish,” said the suspendered man in a voice that sounded remarkably like Larry King’s.
“Fine,” said Satan, and he snapped his fingers.
The ground shook and the recently cooled lava began to crack, sending whirls of heat and steam into the air. The lava and bedrock below began to rise slowly into the air, creating a tall, crescent-shaped wall of porous rock around them. God joined in the interior decorating; he pointed and a black, glass-smooth dais rose up from the ground, followed by two wings of tables on each side that mimicked the crescent shape of the wall. God and Satan began waving around like mad orchestra conductors, and a grim, ultramodern courtroom began to materialize. Seating of black and white, with legs and arms of polished chrome rose out of the ground. A gallery of slate-colored benches formed out of chunks of lava, and as each row formed various people popped into the seats with the rhythmic cadence of champagne corks popping. Some of those people were vaguely familiar to Mestoph and Leviticus, but a few they recognized instantly.
