The Piledriver of Fate (Titan Wars Book 2)

by Samuel Gately

  Van glanced up at the bronze titan and considered the idea. He hadn’t known the General, but just maybe the legend wouldn’t mind being a part of tonight’s celebration. It was a good thought, a warming thought, and Van held it tight a moment as he straightened. “Lead the way, Garret.”

  Garret tore off through the crowd and was almost immediately forced to double back and wait for Van. Comfortably away from the jostling chairs and chanting crowd that surrounded the elevated ring, families visited over beer mugs and children chased each other through the forest of legs. Van waved and swapped greetings with several folks as he meandered closer to the stage. Garret expertly dissuaded the crowd from drawing Van into conversation, but he was helpless when a staggering toddler went right past him and latched onto Van’s shin.

  “Ban! Ban!” the child cried gleefully. She parked her butt on his boot and clung on tightly, her tiny arms not quite able to reach around his calf.

  “Hey, little Lizzy,” Van said softly. He reached down to tousle her hair and then pretended to try to kick her off. She shrieked with laughter.

  “Sorry, Van.” Annie slid past Garret and threw her arms around Van’s waist. “How’s everyone’s favorite titan?”

  Van nodded. “I’m okay, Annie, but one of my boots suddenly feels heavier than the other.” He glowered at the boot with the toddler latched on, then shook it gently, causing the child to laugh again. “I don’t understand it. It came on so sudden.”

  Annie nodded, then shook her head. “I can’t help you there. I have no idea what it could be.” She drank from her mug then looked around, eyes bright. “Great turnout this year! That statue is really something, Van. Are you having a good time?”

  He smiled. The way she eagerly shot from topic to topic reminded him of the old days, when they’d looked forward to these festivals together and navigated them hand-in-hand. “Really good,” Van replied. The light of the lamps was taking over from the fading sunlight and a gentle breeze carried the heady scent of beer and bodies.

  Garret’s face floated between them. “Annie, so sorry, we really need to get Van to the stage. Could you…?” He looked pointedly down at the toddler clamped to Van’s leg. When Annie just smiled, he asked, “Uh, could I?” He mimicked plucking the child off of Van.

  “Sure,” Annie said. “I mean, you can try.” Garret knelt down and started tugging at the girl’s arms. Lizzy pealed with laughter and clamped tighter. Garret tried a different angle, only to be flustered by the tenacious child. Annie asked Van quietly, “How often does he forget you’re basically his boss now?”

  Van shrugged. When he’d returned from Empire City, the brewery had given him what they thought was a ceremonial position on the board of directors and executive leadership team. They’d figured he’d take the salary and spend his time drinking and allowing himself to be reluctantly dragged to promotional events. They’d been shocked when he showed up at the first meeting. Even after that it had taken them a few months to realize that not only was Van serious about the position, but while they weren’t paying attention he’d already launched a bunch of new ideas. Some of them, like the plan to brand barrels with various Open Nations flags in the runup to this year’s Headlock, looked to prove out. Others, like introducing a ridiculously high-alcohol Obliteration Ale, were better left unspoken. Management eventually found ways to rein him in and forge an uneasy peace. Garret was one of those assigned to keep Van in check. “He’s all right,” Van said, glancing back at the General’s statue. The bronze shone in the lamplight. “How’s Alec?” he asked Annie.

  “Real good.” She nodded as though surprised by her words. “Though it is technically his turn to watch Lizzy, and he’s managed to slip out of that.” Alec stood across the crowd, joking with a group of men from the brewery. Sensing their eyes on him, he turned and waved, a guilty look on his face. “You know, he’s been a lot nicer since that Empire City trip.”

  “Good. You deserve nicer. Are you happy?”

  She smiled and took another sweetly clumsy drink. “Yes. You’re kind for asking. What about you? Are you happy?”

  “I’m good.” He nodded without intending to.

  Lizzy squeezed tight and fought a particularly furious effort from Garret. The kid had some serious strength in that tiny frame. “Ban! Hep!” she cried out. He shifted his leg away from Garret to make his job harder.

  Annie asked, “Still all alone in that place up on the ridge?”

  “I said I’m good, Annie.”

  “Because, you know, I hear a lot of rumors about winged women from Empire City and broken hearts. The kind of silly talk that would get dismissed if it was about anyone other than the legendary Van the Beer Man.”

  “Since when do you indulge in rumors?”

  “I may have had one too many.” She looked at her beer mug as though it were at fault. “So I have to pry. Even though I hardly ever see you, and when we get a rare visit you spend more time charming Lizzy than me, apparently I’m still expected to be the source for all things Van. Women have been asking.”

  The sharp sound of breaking glass, followed by loud jeers, came from the crowd around the ring. Garret abruptly gave up on his struggle with the giggling child and looked up at Van. “I am begging you.”

  Van and Annie broke out laughing. “Okay, okay,” Van said. “It was good to see you, Annie. Let’s catch up soon.” He turned to Garret. “Garret, you’re in sales. You should know, you can’t tell Lizzy not to want what she wants.” He finished his beer and set the mug carefully on the ground. “You’ve got to offer her something she wants more.” Van reached a hand into his pocket and pulled out a massive handful of tightly wrapped candy. He rained it down over and around Lizzy.

  She immediately released his leg. “Candy!” she screamed as she frantically collected the tiny treasures. Her enthusiasm drew a parade of other children and created a scrum.

  “Oh, thanks a lot, Van,” Annie said, rolling her eyes.

  “You said it’s Alec’s night to watch her. Make him do it.” Van didn’t bother hiding a smirk as he started following Garret through the crowd. He noticed Alec still staring at them and flipped him the middle finger.

  Ahead of Van and Garret up in the ring, lights shone on an impatient-looking announcer, the actual professional one charged with introducing Van and then cleaning up whatever mess he left. Two titans stretched and sweated in their corners. Van had met both the day before. They were nice enough, though he didn’t think much of either’s chance against a fully healed Owen Grit in the Uplands finals next week. Most of the crowd around the ring had their backs to Van’s approach, giving him a chance to quickly take stock of who had made the trip out to Headwaters. On the apron, Van’s friend Rakesh the gambler chatted animatedly with Larvell, Van’s former manager. A row of titans sat ringside, blocking the view of huge swathes of the crowd. Sevendhi, his white teeth flashing, was pointing something out to Harlan. Owen gesticulated wildly as he talked with Panam Manley. The Landshaker roared with laughter and slammed a beer. The whole crew would be headed to the Headlock soon, after Owen Grit wiped the floor with whichever titan stumbled to victory tonight. They kept trying to get Van to commit to joining them but he had a feeling he could go a few more years, maybe a lifetime, before setting foot in Empire City again.

  The announcer did a double-take when he saw Garret waving both hands over his head and Van just behind him as they made their way down the aisle. The announcer nodded, smoothed back his dark hair, and stepped to the center of the ring. “Gentleman and ladies,” his voice carried over the crowd, “have we got a match for you!” The crowd broke into cheers. “The Headwaters Annual Beer Festival is truly the place to be tonight! Not only will the mighty Trunken Dobbs square off against his sworn enemy Phillip the Rabbit, but we also have a rare, special treat. And I’m not just talking about a limitless supply of Titan’s Reach Ale, the beer that takes you right to the mat. I’m talking about a rare public appearance from your very own, very special, one-and-only
Van the Beer Man. Come on up here, Van!” The announcer applauded enthusiastically, leading the crowd, as he stepped back and watched Van jump up onto the apron.

  Van ducked under the ropes, at the last minute realizing he’d forgotten to bring his barrel with him. He’d catch all kinds of shit from Garret and the brewery president about that later. Blinking in the bright lights, he stepped to the center of the ring. The visiting titans jeered and the crowd roared. More than one beer mug sailed above their heads, making Van glad that Lizzy was safely away from the ruckus. “Uh…” he started, realizing he probably should have given some thought to what he was going to say, “Hi, everyone!”

  The crowd cheered again even as Van’s friends all snickered. “I’ll keep this short. I know better than to get between you all and a titan fight, especially one featuring—” he glanced at the titans and realized he’d already forgotten their names “—such, uh… fantastic competitors.” He looked around at all the faces staring up at him, bright and expectant. From up in the ring, the size of the crowd was stunning, even to a titan who had been to the Headlock finals at Empire City Coliseum. They were his neighbors, his town, plus several thousand visitors, but nevertheless. All here to share a beer and have a good time. Maybe the announcer was on to something. Maybe in the whole wide world, this was exactly the place to be. “It’s a beautiful night. And I’m happy to be home.” The breeze off the mountains picked up a bit, cooling his flushing cheeks. “So let’s make the most of this and every moment. One of these titans will fall tonight. And then his brother will help him back up before he leaves the ring. And someone out there will buy him a beer tomorrow.” Garret was in the wings nodding and frantically mouthing the words Titan’s Reach. Van ignored him, looking past to see the statue of the Great General Grand Reffe. He continued slightly quieter, “And maybe that can be enough for us. We don’t need to be legends or giants. Maybe it’s enough that we’re down here looking after each other as best we can.” The crowd looked a little lost, and Van felt a little lost himself. What did they usually say at things like these? He had never really paid attention. He raised both hands over his head. “Now let’s see a fight!” The crowd exploded, giving Van the feeling he could have said anything and still gotten a good reaction.

  As Van stepped down from the ring, his friends pointed him to a ringside chair, but he gently shook his head. He’d seen his friends plenty the past few days and decided to retreat to the back of the crowd. He watched as the real announcer riled the crowd up far more smoothly and professionally than Van had. In a booming voice, he painted a picture of the great and long-standing rivalry between the two ten-men, the incredible stakes of the match, and the honor the crowd should feel to bear witness to what was to be a monumental contest. Then, just when the crowd had reached peak fervor, the bell rang, and the titans collided in the center of the ring.

  Van glanced left and right, then quietly slipped away into the shadows.

  …

  It took Van about fifteen minutes to climb the trail up to his house. Once there, he stepped inside just long enough to grab a fresh barrel and pair of glass mugs. He dragged them out to his favorite spot on the ridge just beyond the two shady birch trees. He figured he’d have already missed the end of the match, but he could still see the ring far below from his perch. His feet dangled over the edge as he sat. The town, nestled between two mountains, was lit much more brightly than usual, making Van’s typically spectacular view even better. When the match ended and the crowd roared its last, he refilled his mug. Kingsland, of course. That was just tradition.

  He sat back down and watched the revelry carry into the streets. No one was ready to call it a night. Somewhere down there, Sevendhi would be finding something new to boast about. Harlan would be telling stories through a fog of cigar smoke. Panam Manley would be finding a way to make the losing titan feel like a winner. Garret would be frantically pitching Titan’s Reach all over town, probably extolling Owen to endorse it at the Headlock. Annie and Alec would have to take Lizzy home soon. She always slept with her mouth open, face unguarded, confident that the world would keep her safe. It hadn’t let her down yet. If Van had anything to do with it, it never would.

  The whisper of feathers behind him was quiet as a breath. Van froze, listening to the wind blow across the leaves. Then a soft voice, the one he’d dreamed of for a year, maybe his whole life, asked, “Is this mug for me?”

  Van nodded slowly, afraid to speak and spook the delicate vision. He’d given no particular thought to the extra clean glass mug he set down atop the barrel, been doing it so long it was a habit. There was a pause long enough to make him believe he’d imagined the voice.

  “Boo,” Kyle said quietly. She sat down beside him. Van was still afraid to turn his head, afraid she might not really be there. “It’s a nice view,” she said finally.

  Van nodded and pointed at the rocky mountain range to the east. “Wait until the moon rises above that ridge over there. That’s the best part.” He lowered his hand and slowly turned his head. There she was. Same unflinching eyes, delicate face, golden hair. Her wings were hidden with whatever magic the valkyrie hid them with. She wore a soft white jacket, not unlike what she’d worn when he’d first seen her staring at him at the last festival.

  “One year ago,” he said. When she tilted her head curiously, he added, “It was one year ago I first saw you.”

  She smiled and took a drink. “I remember.” Below them, the crowds slowly started to empty the square.

  Van twisted his mug in his hands. “Did you find him? Is he… gone?”

  She looked off at the distant ridge. “We got a better idea of where he likes to roam. I’m slowly coming to realize we’ll have to settle for that.”

  “I would have followed you,” Van said softly.

  “I know, Van, that’s why I made sure you couldn’t. You’d taken on much more than your share of the struggle. I worried if you were pushed any harder, you’d break. And I couldn’t watch that. I couldn’t watch you suffer more. Not for me or anyone. Not after how much you did for all of us. If I had let you be broken, treated you like a tool, then I wouldn’t be any better than him.”

  She drew a deep breath with the slightest hitch in it, then made a show of looking around. “So the valkyrie have set ourselves up as best we can to keep an eye on things and not get caught so unprepared next time. It took a long time, but it’s done.” She smiled brightly then, like Van hadn’t seen her smile in far too long. “And that freed me up to finally visit my favorite titan. You look well, Van, really. So what have you done with your fleeting breath?”

  Van smiled back. “That’s a silly question. I waited for you, of course.”

  It was Kyle’s turn to fall silent. They sat there a long time before she slid her small hand into his. When the moon finally rose over the ridge, she rested her head on his arm. The mountains lay still in the distance.

  …

  “You should have seen it!” Evan swung his hands wildly as he recounted the match. “Trunken Dobbs was unstoppable!”

  The boys stood just behind the new statue in the town square, clustered tight to block the chill winds of the grey morning. Several of them nodded along eagerly. Far too many had been dragged away from last night’s match early by overprotective parents. This second-hand recount was the best they could hope for, at least until next year, which seemed like a lifetime away.

  Marco shook his head. “No way! He’s a cheater. The Rabbit should have won.” He’d spent too much time the prior week talking up Phillip the Rabbit to bail out now.

  “Fat chance.” Evan spat in the dirt, an imitation of his old man that never failed to annoy the other boys. “Maybe if the goal was to hide from your opponent. I counted him cowering in his corner like seven times. I could have taken him to the mat. Anyway, Trunken Dobbs is the coolest. Way cooler than the Rabbit. What kind of a name is that?”

  Marco was having none of it. “Nope, nope. Trunken Dobbs totally got help from the La
ndshaker. You saw the Landshaker hit the Rabbit in the back of the head. That’s what really ended the fight. And you wouldn’t last a second against a titan, dork.”

  “You are so full of it! The Landshaker was just protecting his beer. He barely touched him. Trunken Dobbs was already throwing the Rabbit around like a rag doll. He was finished.” Evan flexed his tiny muscles. “And I could too last in the ring with a titan. Or at least, I will. When I get a little bigger.”

  “Well, I could too,” Marco said. “Longer than you.”

  Marco and Evan glared at each other as the other boys gathered closer, wondering if a fight would break out. The tense moment passed when the sun came out from behind a cloud and the shadow of the Great General Grand Reffe fell across them. They looked up at the bronze face blazing in the sunlight. A long silence followed in which they all imagined their future strength and fearlessness. In which they imagined themselves titans.

  THE END

  This concludes Van the Beer Man’s adventures in the world of the Titan Wars… but not the Wars themselves. A new titan stands at the ropes to be tagged in… Stay tuned…

  Author’s Notes

  Hope you enjoyed Van’s adventures. Glad you stuck around, and there is more to come. Once again, I need to thank Adam Rose for his creative contributions, Mike Myers for titan-level editing, and a whole host of others for their support.

  I need to add an important note here. I was saddened to learn of Joe Laurinaitis’s death as I was in final edits of this book. Joe, like many of the wrestling stars that inspired me, passed too soon and will be missed. I worried over including parts of this story, but in the end, for better or worse, I left it unchanged, hoping readers would recognize the story is pure fiction and not intended to show any disrespect for the real deal. Animal never struck me as someone who held much back. Hopefully he is still kicking ass up above.