Bergelmir joined us, drawing his massive blade and nodding gravely to us both. Slinging my M-4 over my shoulder, I brought up my spear and readied it. The massive gorillas were rapidly closing the distance to us and would be on us in a matter of seconds. Bergelmir merely grasped his sword in both hands and bent his knees in anticipation of his next attack. I grounded the end of the spear and readied the blade to catch the first one that got close enough.
Snake began twirling his hammer around in wider and faster arcs. Having used that particular hammer myself, I knew that the motions weren't simply for looks. He was building momentum to bring down the head of the hammer with tremendous force. I could see his mouth was open in a snarl of pure rage. The bloodlust was pouring through his veins. It was pouring through us all.
The first three of the simian giants leapt high into the air, snarling and aiming for the three of us. The fourth stayed low and came charging right for us. Behind us, I could hear the suppressed cough of Spec-4's M-4 and the thwack of Bridgett's bow. They were concentrating their fire on the one that had remained on the ground. I would have to trust that they would occupy their target, because I had my own to worry about.
No sooner than the gorilla had reached the apex of its leap, I stepped forward and leveled the spear. Placing my right foot on the grounded end, I angled the blade at the head of the flying monstrosity. Gritting my teeth for the impact, I tightened every muscle in my body in anticipation.
The tip of my spear entered through the beast's mouth and emerged from the top of its head. The sheer weight of the creature propelled it onto the spear with skull-splitting force. As I felt the weight settling onto the spear, I used it like a fulcrum and twisted around to throw the beast over the fence. It landed in a heap about ten yards away and didn't get up. I could see that blood, fur and brain matter were stuck to the end of the spear.
Bergelmir side-stepped to the right and sliced deeply into the back of the airborne simian. It hit the ground and smashed through the fence, rolling to a stop. It quickly got to its feet and turned for another attack. Bergelmir spun to face the beast, twirling his massive broadsword in a wide arc, readying himself for the next attack.
Snake roared his own battle-cry that rivaled the ferocious snarls of the gorillas. Stepping to the left, he swung Brjótanir with bone crushing force, striking the snarling monstrosity in the right shoulder as it sailed past him. I could hear the crunching of bone from the tremendous blow. The creature hit the ground and rolled to a stop. When it got up, it was only using its left arm. The right arm had been rendered completely useless.
I could see that Spec-4 and Bridgett were still taking steady shots at the fourth creature, but I had my back turned to it and could not see how much damage they had been doing. That's when I felt the creature's massive arms warp around my body and lift me off of the ground. It would have ripped into my flesh had it not been for the armor that I was wearing. I could even feel the pressure as it tried to bite through my left shoulder.
Releasing my grip on the spear, I let it fall to the ground. Stealth was going to have to go by the wayside now. Never mind the fact that the roars of the creatures and of Snake could probably be heard for a mile or more. Even the Eldjötnar had to be aware of the fight that was raging.
Reaching down, I drew the big XVR from my right hip and jammed the barrel into the eye that I could see peering over my left shoulder. I knew that if I didn't do something quickly, it was either going to find an opening in my armor or move on to my neck and face. I had to end this now before it bit me. I couldn't let that happen. The last time I'd been bitten, it had taken me weeks to recover. I didn't have weeks to spend this time.
Squeezing the trigger on the big revolver, the booming report nearly deafened me. I immediately felt the beast's arms release me and the pressure from my shoulder vanished. I fell to my knees, in the dirt, with my ears ringing. Instinct took over and I turned around in time to see the creature staggering back with most of the side of its head gone. It stumbled three steps and crumpled to the ground, twitching and jerking as they died for the last time.
The one facing Bergelmir had charged him, but Bridgett sunk an arrow into its left ear. It didn't do enough damage to drop it, but it did cause it to stumble. This was all the opening that Bergelmir needed. Stepping inside its reach, he swung his sword in a blinding fast arc. With a slice that sounded like shears closing, the head of the creature fell away from its body and rolled to a stop near my feet.
The one remaining beast did something completely unexpected. It looked around as if it was searching for an escape route. Just as it was turning to flee, Snake threw the massive hammer and struck the beast in the side of the head with a crack that sounded like a tree snapping. The beast crumpled to the ground but tried to get back up. It moved with legs and an arm that would not fully obey what was left of the brain. Snake casually walked over and recovered his hammer.
“Not this time, motherfucker,” he said, as he drove the hammer down into the beast's skull with a wet crunch.
The twitching ceased instantly.
“Wylie!” shouted Spec-4.
I spun around to see that we were completely surrounded. There were at least thirty of the Eldjötnar. Some were aiming bows at us while others had swords, axes and spears at the ready. I turned in a slow circle, gauging our chances of escape. It was doubtful that we would survive if we tried to fight our way clear.
“Which one of you ugly bastards is Surtr?” I asked.
“Lay down your weapons,” said a large male with a flaming red beard. “And you will live long enough to see him before you die.”
“If you want my blades,” I snarled, “come and take them.”
In a flash, I drew both swords and brought them up in a defensive stance. Bergelmir, Snake, Spec-4 and Bridgett readied their weapons and we formed a small circle with our backs to one another.
I could hear the creaking of numerous bows as the archers prepared to release feathered death into our bodies. I refused to believe that we would fall here, but I wasn't going to be taken alive. I was not going to be tortured again. It would be better if we all died here instead of suffering humiliation and pain at their whim.
“Hold!” shouted the big warrior who had spoken first. “Do not fire! Our orders are clear. Surtr wants them alive.”
“Well,” I said, smiling. “We're at an impasse. You can't kill us and we won't surrender.”
“You must be Grant,” said the big warrior. “I should have known.”
“And who are you?” I asked, fairly certain I already knew the answer.
“My name is Fornjot the Destroyer,” he said, his voice dark and full of hate.
“Hmm,” I said, shrugging. “I thought you were Surtr.”
“If you wish to meet him so badly,” said Fornjot, “I will gladly take you to him.”
“We won't lay down our weapons,” I replied.
“Nor would I expect you to,” he said, smiling forebodingly.
“Fine,” I said, lowering the tips of my blades, “lead the way.”
Chapter Nineteen
Bloodlines
“A man’s character is his fate.”
- Heraclitus
They fanned out in a group and surrounded us. The bulk of the group walked, but they sent four of their number to gather the massive horses and take them back. I guess they figured that twenty six of them would be more than enough to handle us. Judging from the sheer size of them, they might have been right. However, if they decided to test that theory, I intended to take as many of them with me as possible. I might not get them all, but I guarantee I'd get a few of them.
We walked in silence. Fornjot didn’t have anything else to say and that was fine with me. I didn't think that the two of us were going to become fast friends any time soon, anyway. For our part, we kept quiet so we could watch our escorts for any sign of weakness or betrayal. If they were planning on turning on us as soon as we let our guard down, they were in for a surprise.
We weren't letting our guard down at all.
I did notice that they kept a wary eye out for the undead. A few times, they had their archers take out a few who noticed our group and came towards us. That told me that they didn't have the ability to control them. That was good news for us. As the old saying goes, the enemy of my enemy is my friend. I doubted that the dead would be on our side any more than they would be on theirs, but it did give me an idea. I just had to figure out how to use the dead against them without us getting caught in the crossfire.
After a few blocks, I saw that I had been right. They had converted the old railway hub into a base of operations. They had surrounded the entire place with fencing and overturned railcars. It looked to be strong enough to keep out the dead. Well, all of them except for those accursed gorillas. Those damned things could easily scale those fences. To prevent that, I could see that they had archers patrolling the tops of the railcars, like the walls of some medieval castle.
They used a massive forklift to move one of the railcars that they used as a gate, allowing us inside the camp. The first thing that came immediately to my attention was that it had changed dramatically since the last time I had seen it. For one, they had stripped most of the rail tracks out and cleared the area of all debris. The second thing I noticed was that they had Eldjötnar overseers guarding dozens of humans that they were using as slave labor. My blood began to boil.
I could see men, women and even bigger children being forced to do manual labor. They were digging in one massive pit and working on something that looked oddly high-tech. Whatever it was, it was massive. It stood close to thirty feet tall and was approximately fifty feet across. A small army of laborers were busily doing something to it while the Eldjötnar observed and instructed them. I could only guess, but to me it definitely looked like some kind of machinery.
Bergelmir took one look at it and stopped dead in his tracks. The look of shocked surprise on his face told me that whatever it was, it was definitely not good news. It was the most intense reaction that I'd ever seen from Bergelmir.
“What is it?” I asked, turning towards him.
“It…,” he began, haltingly, “it is not possible.”
“What's not possible?” I demanded.
“I have seen something like this before,” he explained, shaking his head. “I did not believe that they would be able to construct one here.”
“Construct what?” I said, growing impatient.
“In our tongue,” he said, frowning, “it is called the Nar Djieptal. In your legends I believe it is called the Bifrost Bridge.”
“What?” shouted both me and Snake, simultaneously.
“I thought that was just a legend,” I said, incredulously.
“If only it was,” replied Bergelmir. “If they can activate it, they will be able to bring as many of their warriors through the portal as they choose. They will not be limited by what can cross Yggdrasil.”
“If they do that,” said Snake, “we're fucked.”
“There would be no force in this world that could oppose them,” stated Bergelmir, darkly. “Not even if Loki joined forces with us.”
“Surtr is that powerful?” I asked, dreading the answer.
“Not on his own,” explained Bergelmir. “It is his ability to unite the Eldjötnar that makes him unstoppable. Without him, they would revert to the endless clan-wars that kept them busy for thousands of years.”
“So, take out Surtr and the rest will fall on each other,” I muttered, thinking.
“It will not be that easily accomplished,” cautioned Bergelmir. “There are few warriors in the Nine Realms who can match Surtr. Many warriors have fallen to his blade trying to defeat him.”
“Fuck this guy,” said Snake. “Let's just bust his ass and get the fuck out of here.”
“Again, that will be easier said than done,” replied Bergelmir. “I doubt that they will let us get close enough to Surtr to attack him. At least not while we are armed.”
“We're in their camp,” said Spec-4. “If they want to take our weapons, we won't be able to do much besides resist and die. There's no way we can fight our way out of here and survive to tell the tale.”
“She's right,” I added. “If we have any shot at this, we're going to have to see where this takes us. Watch for an opening. I want to learn more about the captives they have, too. If we can free them, we'd have a lot of numbers on our side.”
“I'll keep my eye on them,” said Spec-4. “You just concentrate on getting to Surtr.”
As we passed fairly close to the massive machine that Bergelmir referred to as the Nar Djieptal, I could see that it was beyond anything I'd ever experienced. It was immensely complex and seemed to be designed to house some type of massive gyro. The interior looked like it was designed to spin rapidly, possibly generating the energy it would take to breach the dimensions and open the portal to Muspelheim. If they pulled it off, the full fury of the world of fire would be unleashed on earth. We had to prevent that from happening, no matter the cost.
As we passed by the far end of the machine, one of the workers caught my eye. For just a moment, they only stared blankly into my eye. After a moment, I could see recognition appear on the man's face. I knew that I knew him as well, but the layers of grime and the thick beard made it impossible to know for sure.
“Wylie Grant!” called the bearded man.
I turned to face him and recognition began to form in my own brain. I knew this man, but I couldn't place his face. As he began coming towards me, one of the massive guards stepped in front of him and raised a whip menacingly in his face.
“Back to work, chattel,” snarled the big warrior. “You were not given leave to speak!”
The big XVR appeared in my right hand as if of its own accord. Everyone froze when I cocked the hammer back and leveled it at the big warrior's face.
“I wouldn’t do that, if were you,” I said darkly.
Turning slowly towards me, the big warrior brought his dark grey eyes in a direct gaze with mine.
“Fire that weapon and you will be dead before the report has faded,” said the big warrior through clenched teeth.
“Maybe,” I replied. “Maybe not. But there's one thing that's an absolute certainty. You won't be alive to see it happen.”
Around me, I could hear the others drawing their weapons and safeties clicking off. The big warrior flicked his wrist and let the massive whip uncoil at his feet. His other hand drifted to the hilt of the broadsword on his hip. Since I had the spear grasped in my left hand, I lowered the tip of the spear so it faced his midsection.
“You're move,” I added, cocking my head to one side and smiling.
Slowly and reluctantly he backed away, but his gaze never left mine. Although I didn't look around, I knew that we had to be completely surrounded and covered from every possible angle by both blade and arrow. Despite the high tech nature of the machine they were building, I saw no firearms at all. That would give us a slight advantage, but not a significant one. It would be more of an advantage if there were more of us.
Blinking rapidly, both from shock and fear, the bedraggled man continued towards me. Cautiously at first, but then almost running to me with relief on his face. He nearly collapsed when he reached me, breathing hard and sobbing almost hysterically. Lowering my weapon, I knelt down in the dirt beside him.
“Griff?” I asked, already fairly certain I knew who it was.
David “Griff” Griffon was a fellow Corrections Officer. We'd worked together for years before he left Nathaniel County to go to work for the Federal Prison Medical Center in Springfield. What we called Fed Med. His was one of the names I often wondered about, when I reflected on all the people we had lost after Springfield fell to the dead. I had always pondered how many, if anyone, had survived that.
“Yeah,” he said, his voice unsteady. “It's me, Wylie.”
“What the fuck’s going on here?” I asked, still watching the crowd around me.
“There was a group of us,” he began, haltingly. “Survivors. We took over the high school out by Republic. At first, things were going pretty well. We had food and supplies. We thought we could outlast the dead.”
“We did the same thing at the jail,” I said, nodding my head.
“We started having trouble with a survivalist group that called themselves the Freemen,” he added, “but one day they just stopped bothering us.”
“That would be us,” I replied. “We took them down.”
“Thanks for that,” said Griff. “After that, things started getting better. The weather went to shit a few months ago, then out of the blue it started getting warm again. Then they showed up.”
He was gesturing at the Eldjötnar.
“Our defenses were nothing to them,” he said, nearly sobbing. “They took us all prisoner and forced us to build things for them.”
“How many of you are there?” I asked.
“That's enough!” boomed a thunderous voice.
“Almost a hundred,” whispered Griff.
“ENOUGH!” roared the voice.
I stood up and turned to face whoever it was that was commanding us. I was stunned to see that he was the biggest of the Eldjötnar that I had ever seen. He had to be well over ten feet tall, with hair and a beard of flaming red and eyes that burned with a fire of their own. Even the other Eldjötnar got out of his way.
He stopped about ten feet from me and glared death from beneath his brushy eyebrows. Although he didn't have a weapon drawn, it was clear that no one here would stand in his way. Well, anyone but me. I've been told that I'm crazy that way.
The heavy black plate armor that he wore looked both thick and strong. I had little doubt that there wasn't any gun in my arsenal that would pierce it. If I was going to shoot this guy, I was going to have to aim for openings in the armor or at his face. In my head, I began to run through the numbers on what our course of action would be if I took the shot. It was unlikely that any of us would get out of here alive.
“Who the Hel are you?” I demanded, glaring back at him and trying to match his ferocity.
Ragnarok Rising: Desolation: Book Five of the Ragnarok Rising Saga Page 25