“Are you hurt?” Piper asked urgently, stopping her horse beside me as I climbed to my knees and started trying to knock snow off.
“I’m not dead.” I confirmed. By this time my horse was making the most pathetic of noises, grating on my ears. Standing, I started for it, pulling the great-sword off my back, “Sorry, pal,” I said, and meant it. “I’ll never forget you, homie.” Then I finished the job.
You know how I said once that blood and sand mix a little too good? Well, blood and snow is a ba-jillion more times worse.
Mainly because it looks like a strawberry daiquiri snow-cone.
“Let’s go,” I said, accepting Piper’s hand and climbing up behind her. In spite of all the unfortunate events that had taken place in the last few hours, I still was able to somehow say, while I adjusted in my seat and wrapped my arms around Piper’s waist, “Man, you smell good.”
Laughing, Piper kicked our last hope and we were off.
And she did smell good. Kind of like an earthy, warm yet cool scent that a guy could get lost in. The wonderful smelling ride lasted another half hour or so and I really must’ve been lost in the scent, or something weird, because I didn’t look at my gauntlet until we stopped a little outside of the village.
Nineteen minutes left and counting. “Okay, so what’s the plan here?” I asked after we’d both dismounted and started for the seriously loud town. And when I say loud, I mean, like, really loud. It sounded like the Super Bowl of the Vikings.
Ha. Like the Vikings will ever get to the Super Bowl.
See what I did there?
“Get inside and find your friend.”
“Don’t forget to do it in less than eighteen minutes, also.” I threw in.
Close to the town I produced Chloe’s gauntlet she’d dropped and put it on my left hand. This had been an idea of mine since I’d first met Chloe in Rome and saw that she was sporting a left-handed glove. “This is my first time,” I told Piper, “So don’t judge me.”
Piper frowned in confusion while I turned and aimed both hands at nothing in particular, firing off two bolts of white-blue electricity that reached almost fifty yards. I smiled broadly and looked at my hands, the bright lights in the palms of both gauntlets fading slowly and made me feel like a lightning mage.
Fan-freakin’-tastic.
A crude, sorry excuse for a town gate was standing wide open when we entered the town quietly- except I’m not sure why we were sneaking due to the racket the town’s occupants were making. “What’re they doing?” I asked nervously, following Piper through the empty streets.
“Branding captives is a real treat here,” Piper said, “Kind of like their entertainment.”
Then we made it to the town square with fourteen minutes left.
Wait--is it making you nervous with me letting you know every time a minute or two ticked by without us being even close to saving Chloe?
Well, good. Imagine how I felt right about then, whoever-you-are.
The square was packed to overflowing with Vikings who were all cheering and looking toward the center, which is where I spotted Chloe. She seemed to be doing a lot better than you’d expect a captive to be doing. I mean, she was still wearing all her clothes, her lip wasn’t bleeding and she seemed to have all her body parts. She didn’t look like she was having the most grand of times, though, if the horrified expression on her face was anything to go by.
Two armed guards stood on either side of Chloe, escorting her to the center of the screaming mob and onto what looked like gallows, which made me gasp, except that it was missing the whole gallow part of gallows that make them all, you know, gallowy.
So it was basically a stage.
Checking my right gauntlet, I saw that I had twelve minutes left. Just wow.
I had no plan. Like, zero plan. I mean, there was always the ol’ snatch & grab maneuver but with a helheim of a load of screaming Vikings crammed into a town square to stop me, I was thinking that the odds of landing that trick were slim.
Except that none of the said screaming Vikings had handfuls of lightning like yours truly.
“Alright, Pipe, here’s the deal…” I started, explaining my outrageous plan to save Chloe, who had just been forced to her knees by the two guards.
Eleven minutes.
Screaming to try and get attention away from Chloe and on me was impossible due to abundance of screaming already going on so I decided to jolt them another way.
Har har har. I’m here all week, folks. Ba-bomp-bomp.
When I was six a couple of schoolmates of mine and I liked to play with a farmer’s electric fence by one of us grabbing it and then making a chain of bodies so we’d all get a little of the juice.
A version of that grade school fun happened when I shot my bolt of lightning into the crowd on my left- only about fifty ba-jillion times worse.
(Oh, Jericho! But what about the children)?
I’m glad you asked that--I’m also glad to inform you that I wasn’t caring about the offspring of the demented warriors when I sent another jolt into the crowd on my right. Plus, it didn’t kill anyone. It just kind of hurt them really, really, really, really bad!
I made a mad dash through the disoriented and hurting crowd toward the stage Chloe was on. “Chloe!” I yelled at her, waving my arms like a madman.
I wasn’t really trying to que her to do anything. Honestly I was just trying to let her know that Jericho Johnson was on the case and that everything was under control- then someone grabbed me from behind and threw me down, commencing to plant several hard stomps to my back and shoulders. I think it was the third time my face smashed on the ground that my eyes caught sight of my glove.
Ten minutes.
Before whoever was tap dancing on me could finish his painful performance, I rolled to my right and saw that my attacker happened to be the very woman who’d taken Chloe captive. She didn’t look too surprised to see me so I was thinking she’d been expecting me. Since I wasn’t feeling like Maximus the Merciful, I let loose two bolts from both hands at the poor chic standing not three feet away, sending her flying through the air and landing in a shaking heap almost fifteen feet away.
I kicked back onto my feet, which was one of the first things Evonne had taught me to do, and looked around for Chloe in the crazy town square. People were running away and screaming like Odin himself had shown up with a vengeful vehemence against them.
I couldn’t see her and started panicking. Where had she gone, anyway? She had been right on the stage and then, poof, she’d vanished. I ran to the stage and up the stairs, scanning the wild crowd for any sign of Chloe.
“Ah, c’mon…” I growled to myself.
Then I saw her being dragged away by her two guards on the other side of the square. Well, they were both dragging her until one of them got an arrow in his back from Piper, who I had told to get on the nearest roof she could and provide cover fire and she seemed to be doing a bang up job of it, too.
All Chloe needed was for one of the guards to let go of her and she went to work. With her hands bound and ankles shackled together, Chloe jumped into the air and planted both of her feet into the remaining guard’s chest, sending him sailing into a rock wall. I leaped from the stage and ran toward her, jolting anyone who got in my way as I traversed the maddening street.
“Did you really think I’d let you out of our date that easily?” I asked Chloe, skidding to a stop beside her.
Chloe was breathing hard when she shrugged. “A girl has to keep trying, I suppose.”
“Yeah, well, stop,” I said, cutting the ropes that held her hands like hot butter with the sharp point of one of the gauntlet fingers. “No chance of cutting through the shackles like that, huh?”
Before she could answer we both saw several attackers rallying from both sides of us.
“Please tell me you’re not out of ideas,” Chloe said, examining the opposition.
“Not just yet,” I said, grabbing her around the waist and firing off
my grappling hook.
Okay, I’m going to stop here and explain the whole grappling hook mechanics so you don’t get this whole super-hero-ish, Batmanny vibe from it.
Here’s the thing- or what I knew of it at the time because I forgot to ask Dr. Sparks just how it worked and also why it was there in the first place. I mean, where did the guy get the idea that a grappling hook needed to be installed on a time-traveling device?
Not that I was asking that when I used it to save Chloe and I from death.
The anchor part that, uh, anchors, I guess, into anything I shoot it at comes out of the palm of the glove from the same place, after I select the grappling hook setting, the bolts of electricity come from. It looked like a mini version of a claw game and clamps on or into anything it hits and then would let go without resistance once I got to it. It was also a tiny thing- I mean, for something that is supposed to hold my weight while it zips me around on a wire that’s so small it’s almost not visible.
Let me also point out to all you gamers, fan boys, comic book junkies or anyone else with nerd-like tendencies that the grappling hooks you’ve read about, seen or used in a game aren’t very realistic.
I mean, do you know how fast someone has to be pulled to maintain a diagonal line for almost thirty feet from the ground to a roof?
About a bone-shattering one-hundred and fifty miles per hour.
So when I say I used the grappling hook don’t get this mental picture of me zip lining around like a freakin’ comic book, because I didn’t.
My anchor sunk into a beam on the peak of the nearest roof and Chloe and I ran toward the wall as it began pulling us quickly. It wasn’t the easiest thing I’d ever done and quite frankly I’m not even sure how we managed to kind of run up the wall and to the top of the steep roof while we held onto each other the whole miraculous way.
However it was accomplished is irrelevant considering we escaped a lot of angry Vikings in the process. I checked my gauntlet.
Six minutes.
“What now?” Chloe asked me.
I saw Piper a few roofs away and waved to her. Returning the wave, she started her descent to the ground. “Meet up with Piper and get the heck out of here is my plan. Unless you just want to stick around and see what happens when I’m gone in five minutes.”
An arrow hit the beam we were straddling and we glanced at the street to see a handful of the more not-so-conservative Vikings had started sailing arrows at us. Chloe rolled sideways to the other side, grabbing the beam and laying down on the steep pitched roof.
I had other plans.
Standing, I held my hands almost a foot apart facing palms and shot my bolts into each other.
I’m not sure what I’d been expecting and I’d probably watched way too much anime for my own good, but the results weren’t too shabby, if I do say so myself.
When connected, the bolts formed together into a sort of ball. I was holding a freakin’ ball of lightning, man. Did I feel awesome? Yes, I did.
The only problem was, if you guys remember from the beginning of this tale, I could only hold a steady stream of the stuff for close to thirty seconds. I’m guessing that when combined into a potent ball of juice that time was reduced drastically because I began to feel warmth in the palm of both my hands and I could’ve sworn I saw smoke. So I wasn’t able to maintain my awesome feeling of bodacity for very long before I tossed the ball back into the Vikings court.
Har har har. Didn’t I say I’d be here all week?
Again, I didn’t know what to expect from what was supposed to me my deal-breaking finishing move. I mean, what if it had hit the ground and did what most electricity does when grounded and fizzled out, or something lame like that?
These were my thoughts as the lightning the size of a small beach ball landed amongst the attacking Vikings.
My next thoughts were that I hope there weren’t any kids down there because this time I did feel bad.
Chloe wasn’t touched at all by the ramifications of my bolt-bomb, unlike me, who, after the explosion was blown off my feet, landing on my back on the steep roof. I would’ve slid off had Chloe not grabbed my ankle.
“Four minutes, toots,” I shouted at her through all the noise of sheer pandemonium and loud crackles of electricity, “Let’s blow this joint.”
It took too long to get outside the crazy town.
Two minutes.
“Never freakin’ again!” I shouted, limping quickly after Chloe and Piper. My ears were ringing and one was bleeding and I couldn’t feel my back for some reason. I was guessing I wasn’t paralyzed because I was, you know, running, but it still wasn’t the best feeling. Then I ran into Piper because she’d stopped suddenly.
“What about Bjourn?” She asked, glancing back at the village we’d just exited, which now had large pillars of smoke billowing from it into the sky. I was about to tell her that he was out of luck when, you’re not going to believe this because I was there and I still couldn’t, Bjourn the Berserker, speaking of the devil, ran out of the town gates, his bound hands clutching a bloodied broadsword and his ankle shackles broken.
“Wow.” I said, feeling a tad dizzy after my brilliant bolt-bomb maneuver. “Dude’s a soldier, ain’t he?”
Ninety seconds.
“Jericho,” Bjourn said, smiling broadly for a guy who’d been a prisoner for almost two weeks. “Back so soon?”
“I forgot a friend of mine,” I said.
Like Olger had done, Bjourn nodded knowingly like what I’d just said was a very normal thing. “Well, thanks for the diversion. It was enough for me to make an escape.”
I sliced his bonds and saw that I had one minute left. “No worries, friend. Try to not let the bards destroy my faithful deeds in wild verse, Bjourn,” I said, smiling at him and extending a hand. “You’ve been great.”
Shaking my gauntlet-clad hand, he placed a hand on my shoulder and assured me that while he still drew breath, he would not stand for any wild songs written by any bard.
Thirty seconds.
“There’s a horse in the outcrop for you and Piper to make it back home with,” I said, taking a step back. “C’mon, Chloe. We still have to save the stupid world, I guess.”
Piper stepped close and hugged me hard. “Thank you,” she whispered.
Fifteen seconds.
“You’re welcome, Piper. I’ll be back one day.” I said, pulling away and grabbing Chloe’s hand. “Try and explain to Bjourn what’s about to happen, would you?”
“Explain what?” Bjourn asked, frowning.
Ten seconds.
“Later on, guys,” I said, taking a few more steps away from them while holding Chloe’s hand.
Then Bjourn received an arrow from behind, dropping him to his knees before he took two more in his back.
Five seconds.
Piper screamed and tried to catch him before his body hit the snow. Then I did the only thing I could do in the few fractured seconds I had left to help her. Just before the last second ticked away, I grabbed Piper with my free hand and pulled her hard away from Bjourn’s body.
Then we were gone
Chapter 25
Lossiemouth, Scotland, December 25th, 1665
It was cold again on the shores of the humble fishing village of Lossiemouth, a quaint little town that I’d came to after first visiting Aviemore and Elgin further south. (I had stayed here for a while and ended my journey on the windswept shores of northern Scotland on Christmas day).
I remember leaving because it was a tad depressing.
Now I was back a few minutes after I’d left and it was still depressing.
Piper ended up in a heap on the cold sand crying while Chloe decided to, I don’t know, check the perimeter, I guess, because she walked down the beach away from us.
I sat beside the bawling girl and pulled her up into a half sitting position so I could comfort her without having to lie on top of her. So that’s how the first hour of my return to Scotland went. With Chloe stand
ing a good distance away with her arms folded around herself for warmth, her captors had relieved her of her Nazi overcoat, and me with Piper’s shaking head on my right shoulder and chest.
Thankfully, we only had about three hours to go before our next jump. Surely nothing too life-threatening could happen on the beach next to a rundown fishing village in the next three hours, right?
“Chloe, stay with Piper. I’m going into town to get us something to eat.”
Without waiting for her to protest, I left them on the beach and entered the fishing village. It was exactly as I’d left it, which was a very good thing right about now. I entered the only tavern in the small town and headed for the bar. The shack looked like it had been burned once and the owners had tried to recover the burned places.
“Homer,” I called, knocking on the bar. “Jericho’s back. I forgot to grab some vittles for my journey.”
Homer was a stoop-shouldered man in his late fifties, I guess, and was a super nice guy. I’d spoken to him first when I arrived and we’d talked for a few hours. “Well, now, ye’r back,” Said the smiling man coming in through a side door and waddling behind the bar. “And ye’r after some wittles, ye’ say?”
“For me and my friends, if you’d be so kind.”
Nodding, Homer said, “Aye, ye’ve got a mighty long journey before ye’, Ah’d say. How many friends?”
“Three counting myself,” I said, leaning on the bar and peering out the doorway that was lacking a door. “Been busy today?”
“Not really. ‘Ad a few home folks in here earlier and some of the boys are swearin’ that a ship is coming in.” He frowned at me, “Are ye' wearin' chain mail?”
“Yeah, it's a long story.” I told him, glancing back to the harbor. I didn’t remember a ship from the beach. But I hadn’t been exactly looking for one, either.
“Sure been cold, though,” He said.
“A little, yeah.”
“Might come a frost tonight.”
“Really?”
“Yes indeed.”
“You guys don’t associate much with the south, do you?” I asked.
Jericho Johnson: The Gauntlet of Time Page 16
