Thunderstruck

by Brenda Drake

  “It wasn’t able to enter land,” Kyle said, looking as if something was turning in his head. “Then it was one of Jörmungandr’s leeches. They can’t leave the water. The leeches must’ve been sniffing out Heimdall’s signal for the serpent. There has to be several of them about.”

  “What else do you know about them? How can they survive in Midgard without Jörmungandr?”

  “They can adapt to any climate.” Kyle adjusted himself on the pillows. “To anything, really. But why would Jörmungandr want the horn? The creature doesn’t think like that. It wouldn’t know what to do with it. Someone has summoned the serpent.”

  “My bet is on Loki,” Blake said.

  “Safe bet. Possess the horn, rule Asgard.” Kyle slid off his bed and went to the dresser. “And he never likes doing his own dirty work.” He grabbed the miniature stave he’d used the other night.

  Probably is the reason Járnsaxa has you seeking it, as well.

  Blake stood and followed Kyle into the hallway. “Where are you going?”

  “We’re going.” He slipped the stave in his pocket. “To hunt leeches.”

  Blake should have driven. Kyle was a madman on the road, going well above the speed limit and turning corners practically on two wheels. Add the downpour of rain and surviving the drive seemed unlikely.

  Kyle clicked on the radio and turned the channels until he stopped on one with a man rattling off the current news. “Have you heard anything broadcasted about the leeches? Google the local stations. See if there are any reports.”

  Blake pulled his gaze from the windshield. “Google?”

  “It’s a search engine on the internet.” Kyle turned another corner, the truck’s wheels squealing a little bit. “Haven’t you been on the internet?”

  “At school. But not much.”

  “It’s on your cell phone,” Kyle said.

  “I don’t have one.”

  Kyle gave him an incredulous look. “How do you even survive?” He leaned back and tugged his phone from his pants pocket. The truck swerved, and he quickly righted the wheel.

  “Maybe you should park and do that.” Blake gripped the handle above his head. “You’re going to cause an accident.”

  With a heavy sigh, Kyle pulled the truck to the side of the road. “You’re annoying. You know that, right?” His fingers ran across his phone’s screen. He stopped and read what he found. “Says here there were reports of waves near the bathhouse. Someone mentioned it was a quake, but specialists shot that theory down, saying there was no reading of one. That’s it. Nothing else.”

  Kyle dropped the truck in drive, steered it back onto the road, and increased the speed. Blake vowed never to get in a vehicle with his brother again. When they’d finally made it to the Golden Gardens Park, there was still a little light in the sky. Only one car sat in the parking lot when they pulled to a stop.

  Blake recognized the SUV from the night the wolves attacked the girl in the costume at the warehouse. Rain slapped his face as he stood outside the truck surveying the area. A figure in a blue raincoat with a hood covering his or her head searched the beach.

  “We have company,” Kyle said, heading down the path.

  The raincoat figure crossed the beach to the bathhouse and went up the far pathway to the parking lot, seemingly trying to avoid Blake and Kyle. After observing the figure for a little while, Blake could tell it was a girl. Whoever was hidden under the hood of the raincoat got into the car and drove off. He had to find out who the girl was. She was at the warehouse last time the box was opened, and now she was investigating the area where Jörmungandr’s leech was seen? She might just be the key to finding Heimdall’s Horn. Blake had wanted to rush over to her and demand answers, but he knew that protecting these humans from the leech was more important.

  “What is the plan?” Blake caught up to Kyle. He wasn’t sure he wanted to follow any ideas Kyle had. Ever since they were young boys, Kyle had gotten them into trouble with one bad scheme after the other.

  He gave Blake one of his mischievous smiles. “We’re going to lure the leech out with bait.”

  “What bait?” Blake didn’t like the sound of that.

  “You. Jörmungandr thirsts to destroy Thor. What better bait than his son.”

  Blake wiped the rain from his face. “You’re his son, too. You be the bait.”

  Kyle smirked, retrieving his stave from within his jacket and pushing the gem on the handle. The stave expanded, the blade making a schlink sound before locking in place. “You’re the favored one. You’ll be a tasty temptation. The best way to hurt Thor is to take his beloved son.”

  “So how does one summon a leech?” Blake removed his keys from his pocket.

  “With your hammer. You attract lightning and the energy alerts them.”

  Blake searched the bay in front of him, making sure it was clear of boats before willing Jölnir to its full size. He held his hand up and the hammer instantly pulled energy from the sky, light flashing angrily across the clouds overhead. A loud crack sounded across the beach. Lightning struck Jölnir and Blake aimed the hammer at the bay, the charge releasing and kissing the waves, illuminating the water with a blue glow.

  Kyle chuckled. “Trying not to kill the fish, huh? You’re such the humanitarian.”

  “Father taught me to appreciate all life-forms.” Blake glanced at him. “Had he not taught you the same?”

  “I might have missed that lesson.”

  Blake stood there with Kyle in silence, listening and watching the bay for any sign of a leech. It was eerily quiet. As if the entire world had frozen.

  “Maybe they’ve gone back to Jörmungandr.” Relief came over Blake. Fighting a leech wasn’t something he particularly wanted to do. He’d seen Asgard warriors come back with all matter of injuries—missing limbs, acid burns, and bite marks so deep the bone was exposed underneath—after fighting one.

  Kyle pulled his eyes from the shoreline and glanced at Blake. “Try it again.”

  The earth shook under Blake’s feet.

  Kyle stumbled and quickly righted himself. “It’s showtime! Get closer.” The excitement in Kyle’s voice concerned Blake.

  Blake crossed the beach, his hammer at the ready. Kyle kept pace with him on his right. The setting sun offered little light.

  The waves grew. He could barely see the large body rolling under the surface. The leech was too far off to hit with his lightning bolt. So Blake waited.

  Waited with sweaty palms.

  Waited with held breath.

  Waited.

  He glanced at Kyle. His brother had his stave raised, ready to stab anything coming out of the water.

  A tale Blake heard from a warrior came to mind. He’d said the creature shot out of the depths without warning, taking him off guard. Blake decided to take a chance. To have the jump on the leech. He stretched up his arm, his hammer pulling lightning from the sky. His arm ached to release the energy, but he dared not let go.

  The waves swelled and collapsed in front of him. A greenish body rolled closer toward him. He sucked in a breath and released it, his eyes focused on the water.

  He waited.

  His arm shook from the power weighing on it.

  The leech broke out of the surface and shot into the sky, its tail still submerged in the bay. Blake released the bolt and it shot out, hitting the leech’s side. A siren-like sound came from the beast. And Blake reached for another thunderbolt. The leech’s mouth opened wide, exposing rows of razor sharp teeth.

  Kyle threw his stave at the creature and it punctured its skin just below its mouth. He opened his hand, and the stave pulled out of the leech and soared back into his grip. The leech lunged forward at the same time Blake shot another bolt at it, hitting its chest. It swayed on its tail, so Blake threw his hammer, hitting the beast’s head and cracking it open. Red and green matter shot out of the gash.

  The leech crashed into the surface, water spraying up so high Blake was certain it would hit the sky. Bl
ood and flesh floated around the area where the leech had gone under. Jölnir flew back to him, and he caught it.

  The leech’s body rode a fast wave heading for the beach.

  “Run!” Kyle yelled and took off for the bathhouse.

  Blake sprinted behind him. “Shit. Where to?”

  “Nice,” he said over his shoulder, running around the corner of the building. “There’s some color in your language. I see you’ve been bingeing some shows.”

  “Yes,” Blake said between pants. “Did you know there were vampires and werewolves on Midgard?” They rounded another corner just as the wave hit the building and water splashed over the roof, hitting Blake and Kyle.

  Kyle whooped. “That was awesome! And dude, you’re watching the wrong shows. Vampires and werewolves don’t exist. They’re made-up.”

  “I don’t understand.” Blake shrunk Jölnir and shoved his key chain into his pocket.

  “It’s acting. Like that Macbeth play we’re doing in school,” Kyle said. “Come on, we’ve got to get rid of the body.”

  “I cannot lie. I’m disappointed they don’t exist.” Blake rubbed his sore arm. Holding his hammer with a charge too long was dangerous. His father had told him time and again to immediately release the power or it would harm him.

  “Do you have any clues to who might have the horn?” Kyle asked, inspecting the leech’s body that spanned the length of the long bathhouse.

  Blake hesitated. He had wondered why Kyle was helping him, but had pushed the thought aside, thinking they wanted the same thing. To keep innocents safe. But he should have known Kyle had his own agenda. After all, they were both after the same thing. The horn.

  “Nothing,” Blake lied. “I guess we have to wait for whoever has it to open the box again.”

  Kyle rubbed his chin studying the leech’s lifeless body. “We’re going to have to burn it. Let’s gather some wood.”

  Grace Kirby. Silky black hair, perfect complexion, and as graceful as the petals on a lotus flower. She wore a tight black skirt and a shimmery gray T-shirt. If Blake had never met Stevie, he might have given Grace a chance. She had asked him out numerous times, and he had always found an excuse. When Kyle entered school, her attention shifted to the new quarterback.

  He hoped his plan to get her alone would work. She was the right height and her bust size was on the larger side as was the girl’s in the Wonder Woman costume at the warehouse the other night.

  “Okay, guys,” Grace said. “Did we all go over our lines? We have to be better than the other teams. I want an A.”

  “I hadn’t time to practice mine,” Blake said. It was a lie. He’d memorized them the first night. Practiced them several times in front of the mirror, even.

  Grace puckered her cherry-stained lips. “What are we going to do about this? Have you read them at all?”

  Blake knew he had her. She wouldn’t want to fail because one of her team members messed up the portion of the play they were performing for a grade. “I’ve glanced over them. I only need someone to run the lines with me.”

  “You have like three,” she said with disdain in her voice. “How hard can they be to memorize?”

  “I’m not certain my acting is good enough,” he said. Across the room, he spotted Stevie watching them. Her team was walking through their scene. Her attention distracted, she bumped into a lanky guy with braces and shaggy blond hair.

  Blake chuckled.

  “I don’t think it’s funny,” Grace said and pressed her lips together as she gave him a disagreeable look. “Your slacking will cause all of us to get a lower grade.”

  “I apologize,” he said. “I wasn’t laughing about our situation. Something distracted me across the room.”

  She heaved a sigh. “What are we going to do with you?”

  With one of his crooked smiles that had attracted many in his past, he leaned closer, turning on his best smoldering look. The one he’d hidden for years. The one that had died with Maggie on Asgard. “We could meet at your home after school. I’m sure you could show me how to act.”

  She smiled, smoothing her hair on the sides. “I’m sure I could. How about after cheerleading practice?”

  “And what time would that be?” He caught a glimpse of Stevie, her eyes on him, a frown on her face. She noticed him looking at her and quickly shifted her attention back to her group.

  Is she jealous? He hoped she was.

  “Sometime after five,” Grace answered. “I can text you when I’m done.”

  “I haven’t a cell phone,” he said, his gaze switching from Stevie to Grace.

  Her mouth fell open. “You don’t have a phone? Who doesn’t have a phone?”

  “Me.” He picked up a strand of her silky hair and inspected it, then glanced up at her. “Is that a problem?”

  “Um, no, not at all.” There was a quiver in her voice. “Just come over at six. You can eat dinner with us, and we can practice afterward.”

  “Looking forward to it.” He let her hair slip from his fingers.

  When the bell rang, everyone scrambled to their feet, snatching up backpacks and gathering other various items. Blake crossed over to his desk and grabbed his bag off the back of his chair.

  Stevie hunched over her desk, shoving her book and notebook into her backpack. He headed over to her. She swung her bag over her shoulder and shuffled down the aisle between the desks.

  “Stevie,” he said. “Just a moment.”

  She stopped, dropping her shoulders and expelling a sigh, not bothering to turnaround. “What do you want?”

  What do I want? She sounded angry with him.

  “I thought we would walk together,” he said.

  “You did?” She turned to face him. “I’m sorry. I have to powder my nose.”

  He watched Stevie walk away, pondering what he had done to upset her. Whenever he had quiet moments, she would fill his thoughts. He liked getting lost in the memory of her, the way she looked at him with those big doe eyes, how her wavy brown hair swayed against her back when she walked, and when her smile brightened her entire face. Alone in his room at night, he could actually imagine the smell of her floral perfume.

  But her strength was what drew him to her most. Frail as she was because of her heart, she didn’t let it slow her down. She was fearless.

  Maybe her anger toward him was a good development. She was distracting him from his duty. He’d been on Midgard for over a month and hadn’t found Heimdall’s Horn. Could he secretly be sabotaging his mission because of her? Because once he found the horn, he would have to return to Asgard.

  And he’d have to forget about Stevie.

  sex

  Stevie straightened her thick, long wig and adjusted the low-slung belt to the Black Widow costume. Red-faux hair fell around her shoulders and down her back. The fake leather suit stuck to her sweaty skin. The toolshed was actually a workroom for Amira’s dad, so it wasn’t too small, but it still was hot and muggy inside for the unusually warm October day.

  “I’m all set,” Amira said, readying to push the record button.

  “Let’s do this.” Stevie picked up the box containing the comic swag, placed it on the stool, and found her mark on the floor. It was two strips of black electrical tape Amira had torn off the roll and slapped on the floor, creating a cross with them.

  Amira looked up from the camera. “You forgot the mask.”

  “Oh, right.” Stevie removed the wig and put on the clear, plastic mask with the painted-on makeup. She used it whenever a costume didn’t hide her face well enough. The plastic distorted her features, making her unrecognizable to Comic Cam fans. She secured the wig back on her head and took her place again, nodding to Amira to start the recording.

  “Hey guys, it’s Comic Cam,” she said with her over exaggerated voice she used for the part. “As always, there may be spoilers, so continue only if you’re cool with that. I’m so excited to review this latest Black Widow comic. People. Stop everything you’re doing. No. S
cratch that. Wait until after you’ve viewed this vlog, and then stop everything you’re doing, and go get this issue!”

  She held up the comic book. “Isn’t this cover kick-ass! Natasha does so many crazy tricks in this episode, you’ll find yourself flipping back to view it again and again because…ALL THE STUFF.” She opened to a page and briefly showed it to the camera. “Check out this splash page. There’s so much going on in just this panel alone. Holy moly, it will blow your fricking mind. You’ll notice new things each time you look at it. Can I just say the artwork…it’s Ah-mazing! This issue has twists you won’t see coming. Mind. Blown. I’m telling you.”

  By the time Stevie finished the review, sweat soaked her back. “I can’t breathe.” She stormed out of the toolshed.

  Amira followed her. “Get back inside. Someone will see you.”

  Stevie slouched and walked back into the sauna from hell. “We need a fan or something. Or a new place to record in.”

  “I know,” Amira said. “It’s too bad we can’t use the warehouse anymore. Everyone is still freaked out about a wolf loose in Ballard. It was so big. I’m surprised they haven’t found him, yet.”

  Stevie pulled off the wig and removed her mask. “Yeah, they’ve beefed up the security around the warehouses. Maybe it was passing through.”

  Amira unplugged her equipment. “I think wherever the wolf came from, it ran out of food, and we smelled like a tasty dinner for it.”

  “Yeah, that makes sense.” Stevie unzipped the catsuit. Amira’s mother had made it for the Catwoman review a few months ago. Depending on the accessories, Stevie could use it for other characters.

  “So did you ask Blake to be part of our cosplay team for the comic con?” Amira broke down the umbrella light.

  Stevie’s skin almost peeled off with the catsuit as she struggled out of it. She stood there in her underwear and bra, hoping to cool off a little before putting on her street clothes. “I think Grace can ask him herself,” she said. “They’re pretty chummy lately.”

  Amira flung a tarp over the box lights. “Okay, what’s going on? You like the dude or what?”