“I do not know,” replied Bergelmir.
He strode into the square and stopped about fifty yards away from us. Glancing slowly around, he took careful stock of his surroundings. The buildings were all badly damaged both from explosions and fire. There were numerous burnt out cars scattered around the area and the trees around the square were charred and black.
“Give me Grant and you may all go free,” he said, after a long pause. “The rest of you are of no consequence.”
“Why does he want Wylie?” asked Spec-4.
“Simple,” explained Bergelmir. “If he brings in the head of the man who killed Surtr, then he can proclaim himself the greatest warrior of them all and take command of the Eldjötnar.”
“But Wylie's too hurt to fight him,” said Bridgett.
“He doesn't give a shit about fighting him,” said Snake. “He just wants his head.”
“Precisely,” said Bergelmir.
“Let's just fuck him up,” said Snake, reaching for his hammer.
“He didn't come alone,” said Bridgett.
Behind him, we could see over a dozen warriors staying well back out of the area, waiting for a command from Jörmungandr.
“If we all go after him,” cautioned Bergelmir, “they will attack.”
“So what do we do?” asked Spec-4.
“You get ready to move,” said Snake, picking up Brjótanir.
“What are you doing?” asked Spec-4, grabbing him by the arm.
“Buying you time to get clear,” said Snake. “Wylie has done it for us so many times. Now it's my turn.”
“Are you sure?” she asked.
“Abso-fucking-lutely,” he said, grinning. “Get out of here. I'll catch up after I beat this fucker down.”
“Be careful,” I said to Snake as he began to walk off.
“Time to fuck someone up,” he said, grinning. “I’ll see you when this is over.”
Bridgett looked like she wanted to go after him, but Spec-4 stopped her.
“Do you think he can beat him?” Bridgett asked Spec-4.
“Don't underestimate Snake,” I answered instead.
A shrill whistle pierced the area. It seemed to be coming from all around us, but I could see one of Jörmungandr's men lowering a whistle from his lips. Our horses began to whinny and snort, tossing their manes and stamping their hooves. Bergelmir moved to calm them, but they bolted and ran towards the line of Eldjötnar.
“Looks like we're on foot from here,” said Spec-4.
Snake walked towards Jörmungandr with his hammer in his hand. He stopped about ten yards from us and held up the hammer.
“Alright, motherfucker,” he said.
“Jörmungandr,” corrected the big warrior.
“Whatever, asshole,” replied Snake. “Whatever the fuck your name is. If you want to get to Wylie, you gotta get through me first. Got me, fuck-head?”
“Are you challenging me?” asked Jörmungandr, chuckling.
“Yeah,” said Snake. “And keep laughing, chuckle-dick. I'll shove it right back down your fucking throat.”
“It is, as you say, your funeral,” replied Jörmungandr. “Once I have finished with you, I will deal with the rest of your friends.”
“You gotta get through me first,” replied Snake.
“Don’t underestimate these guys,” I cautioned him. “They’re faster than you think they are. Also, they can ignite their swords. Keep that in mind.”
“Got it,” he said, nodding back at me.
“Their armor is thick,” I added. “Hit the joints or the helmet.”
“That’s my plan,” he said, smiling grimly.
“Be safe, brother,” I said.
“Victory or Valhalla,” he said, grinning wickedly.
With that, Spec-4 and Bridgett started getting me to my feet. They each looped one of my arms over them and we headed south off of the square. I turned my head so that I could watch the battle, for as long as I could. Bergelmir grabbed his gear and took the lead to cover us from any threat that might arise from the rubble.
“Time to fuck someone up,” said Snake, grinning. “I’ll see you when this is over.”
I was half-expecting a loudspeaker to announce the two combatants with the over-the-top voice shouting, “Let's get ready to rumble!”
Although it didn't happen, the air was nonetheless electric with the anticipation of the battle to come. Snake walked out into the middle of the square holding Brjótanir at the ready. He held his head up and surveyed the area, looking for any sign from his opponent. I wasn't going to be shocked if Jörmungandr sent more than one of his men after Snake. I mean, he didn't exactly strike me as the fair fight kind of guy.
“What is your name?” asked Jörmungandr.
“Snake,” he replied. “My name is Janos Viridian, but everyone calls me Snake.”
“Hmm,” replied Jörmungandr. “That is a strange coincidence. I am also named after a serpent.”
Suddenly, I felt like ice-water had been poured down the back of my armor. I had a sick feeling in the pit of my stomach and the warning bells in the back of my head were screaming overtime.
Jörmungandr was easily ten feet tall and covered with blackened armor that resembled snake scales. The helm was fashioned to look like the head of a serpent with its mouth open, revealing massive fangs and horns sticking out of the top of its head. The horns angled forward and came to a sharp point about two feet from the helm. The fangs were gleaming steel and the eyes of the serpent were massive rubies. In the darkness of the mouth, you could barely see the features of the warrior beneath the helm.
“By Odin's blood,” said Snake, his tone awed.
“Not even Odin can save you from Jörmungandr,” he said acidly.
“I'd be a little more concerned if I was you,” replied Snake. “During Ragnarok, Thor kills the Midgard Serpent.”
“You are hardly the Thunder God,” replied Jörmungandr, chuckling.
“True,” said Snake, turning to glare at him with fire blazing in his eyes, “but I don't carry a hammer for nothing. Besides that, you're hardly the real Jörmungandr.”
That brought him up short and made him glare at Snake darkly.
“We shall see,” he muttered.
Behind us, Snake began twirling his hammer to build up momentum for the coming attack. Reaching beneath his cloak, Jörmungandr brought out two massive coils of braided leather. With a massive shrug, he uncoiled two gigantic whips and let them roll out around him. Once they came to a rest in the dirt, I could see something gleaming in the tips. There was something steel braided into the ends of the whips.
With fluid movements reminiscent of a snake, the big warrior began gyrating his arms and flipping the whips into the air. Faster and faster he moved until the tips of the whips were screaming through the air and cracking like the report of a rifle. The lengths of the whips were whirling through the air like a hurricane of leather and steel. I suddenly realized that one hit from one of those whips could remove a limb or pierce a skull without any trouble. Snake was in for the fight of his life.
With a sudden lunge, the massive warrior stepped forward and cracked one of the whirling whips right at Snake's face. To my surprise, Snake moved out of the way just in the nick of time. The tip still managed to score a bloody gash down the left side of his face, but nothing more. No doubt it still burned like fire, although Snake made no outward sign of pain. In fact, if anything, he just looked pissed off.
The giant immediately followed up with the other whip, putting Snake on the defensive from the get go. Snake began diving out of the way of the hyper-velocity tendrils of death, but the occasional blow still scored his flesh. Before he got out of range, he was bleeding from wounds to his face, neck, arms and back. The power of the whips had blasted away plates of the armor and gouged the flesh beneath it. Whatever those whips were made out of, it wasn't just leather. There was something more going on here.
Rolling to his feet, Snake brought the hammer
up in front of him and glared back defiantly at his opponent. I could see he was breathing heavily and bleeding from numerous wounds, but he stood there boldly undefeated. I couldn't see enough of his face to judge, but the big warrior called Jörmungandr seemed to be approaching more cautiously. It seemed that Snake had earned a measure of his respect by surviving the first onslaught.
The big warrior began moving his arms in unison, preparing to launch both whips at the same time. Although he had been using both weapons before, it was always one after the other. Snake would have a much more difficult time dodging or deflecting both simultaneously. He began whirling the whips into a frenzy and you could hear them slicing through the air like the screaming of a banshee.
I could see Snake flexing his fingers on the handle of his hammer. There was a grim look of determination on his face. Whatever he had decided to do, he was steeling himself for it. I only hoped that he survived whatever it was he had in mind. As bad as I was dying to, I knew that if I interfered in any way, we would all be killed. I had to trust my friend to not only fight this battle, but to find a way to survive. Not that I was in any shape to intervene, anyway.
With the speed of a striking snake, the big warrior surged forward and cracked both whips at Snake's head. I could see Snake's body tense up in anticipation of the blow and at the last second, he snapped his hammer over in his left hand in a wide arc. The sudden and unexpected movement of the hammer tangled one of the whips around the handle and Snake yanked back and down.
The other whip lashed into Snake's forehead, just above his right eye. I could see blood, flesh and hair fly into the air. The blow had sliced off a chunk of scalp about the size of a baseball. For just a moment before the blood began to flow, I could clearly see Snake's skull. The blow had missed the eye but had done horrendous damage to the top of his head.
Roaring in both fury and pain, Snake yanked with everything he had, causing the big warrior to stumble forward and lose his grip on the whip that had been grasped in his right hand. Scooping it up, Snake threw it behind him and well out of the reach of the big Eldjötnar warrior. For his part, the big warrior staggered back. He seemed completely taken off guard that someone could disarm him.
Shifting the hammer to his left hand, Snake let the shaft slide through his fingers until the head hit the ground. He had his hand wrapped firmly around the very end of the handle, leaving his right arm free. I wasn't sure what he had in mind, but whatever it was I knew that I wasn't going to be disappointed. Snake was one of the toughest warriors I'd ever met.
“Come on, motherfucker!” bellowed Snake. “Are you gonna fight or just fucking stand there?”
Whirling the remaining whip around him like a cyclone, the big warrior came running towards Snake. Snake stepped forward, allowing the hammer to trail behind him in the dirt. With incredible speed, the massive warrior sliced the whip in a deadly arc aimed at Snake's throat. With a sudden snap of his right arm, Snake parried the blow with just his arm. The whip wrapped around his forearm and dug into the armor plates.
Instead of being slowed down by the wound, Snake wrapped his arm around and around in the length of the whip and secured it tightly to his arm. Screaming to the Gods, Snake twirled into the blow and pulled as hard as he could. This caught the big Eldjötnar off guard and brought him stumbling forward. They were now less than twenty yards apart.
Using the momentum, Snake continued to twirl into the whip and pull the big warrior closer to him. As Snake came completely around, I saw Brjótanir come up in a blinding arc and he threw the massive hammer with everything he had. Combining the momentum of the twirl, the whip and the stumbling warrior, the big hammer streaked through the air and slammed into the fanged helmet at a range of about fifteen yards.
The massive blow rang out like thunder, knocking the much larger warrior over backwards and to the ground. The helmet came free and bounced away into the dirt, landing with the fangs imbedded in the ground. I could see the face of the warrior that they called Jörmungandr for the first time. He had a ruddy complexion and deep grey eyes. He was also bleeding from a long laceration that ran from his chin and into his fiery red hair.
Shrugging out of the whip, Snake threw it behind him and it landed a few feet away from the first one. Blood was pouring down Snake's right arm from the deep slices that the whip had scored into his flesh. The hammer was lying in the dirt about twenty feet away from the prone warrior. As Snake bent over to recover it, I could see the big warrior getting slowly to his feet.
Before Snake could press the attack, the big warrior stood up and reached beneath his cloak. I didn't see a sword on his hip, so I knew he had to have something else hidden in the folds of his cloak. I could see him grasp a handle that was visible near his left hip. With a wide flourish, the big warrior drew a massive mace.
The head was as big around as a car tire and covered with knobby spikes. Jörmungandr secured it to his wrist by a thick leather thong. He wasn't going to lose this weapon easily. Snake gripped Brjótanir tightly and glared defiantly at the massive warrior.
“Bring it, motherfucker,” snarled Snake.
Jörmungandr lurched forward and swung the massive mace in a downward blow intended to crush Snake into the ground. Deftly leaping to the side, Snake avoided the blow and drove Brjótanir into the back of his right knee. Jörmungandr's blow smashed into the tiled ground of the square, shattering the tile and splitting the concrete beneath it.
Instantly, magma surged up out of the crack. Although it didn't spurt into the air, it oozed out and began to spread around the area. Both Snake and Jörmungandr had to leap back to avoid it, causing them to disengage and circle each other.
“What the Hel,” I muttered.
Glancing back, Bergelmir saw what I was looking at and sighed heavily.
“The Magma Tap is rupturing,” he said. “It looks like lava is spilling into the city sewers and channeling around the city.”
“How far will it reach?” asked Spec-4.
“I do not know,” replied Bergelmir. “It depends on how much pressure the tap builds up before it explodes.”
“Are you saying that there's going to be a volcanic eruption?” asked Bridgett.
“It would seem so,” replied Bergelmir. “It will destroy most of this city, when it does.”
“We need to get out of here,” I said, trying to help support my weight, but failing.
I was still too weak to walk.
“Easy there, big guy,” said Bridgett. “Let us carry you for a while. You need to rest.”
Behind us, the battle raged on. The ground beneath our feet was beginning to grow warm through our boots and you could feel the tremors as they shook the area. It was only a matter of time before the Magma Tap erupted into a full volcano.
Leaping over the magma, Snake struck out with Brjótanir and Jörmungandr only barely got his weapon up in time to parry. Snake jumped back as Jörmungandr swung a massive blow at his head. Ducking beneath the blow, the enormous mace smashed into the corner of the building that had once held the offices where I always went to renew my driver's license. The building was already badly damaged and cracked from missile hits when the Freemen had shot down an F-18 from the roof. The force of the blow was enough to bring the rest of the building crashing down in a cloud of dust and debris.
For just a moment, I lost sight of both warriors. Snake was the first to emerge from the dust cloud. I could see he was favoring his injured right arm and blood flowed freely from the massive scalp wound that covered most of the right side of his head. As Jörmungandr emerged from the rolling cloud of dust, I could see the glowing of magma in the ruin of the building. Undoubtedly, it was welling up from the basement of the fallen structure.
As the ground began to tremble more and more, cracks were appearing in the pavement all around the square. Where the cracks appeared, the glowing light from the lava was there. It was only a matter of time before the entire square collapsed in fire and death from the lava flow beneath thei
r feet.
Leaping off of the side of an overturned car, Snake brought Brjótanir down in a skull-crushing blow. Jörmungandr narrowly avoided the blow and Snake smashed a section of concrete, spewing more lava out into the ground. Around them, flames were beginning to crackle to life as the magma reached combustible materials. Cars, debris and buildings were soon glowing with an eerie light as flames licked over them like the tongue of some ancient dragon intent on devouring them all. Through it all, Snake and Jörmungandr continued their deadly dance.
Swinging the mace around like a scythe, Jörmungandr tried to take Snake's head off with a gargantuan blow. Snake rolled beneath it and started to leap back to his feet, when Jörmungandr brought the mace around again. He brought it down in a crushing blow that would have ended the fight, if it had connected. Snake ducked to the side and leapt to his feet.
The head of the mace smashed into the nearly molten asphalt and cracked it. Lava spilled out around the mace and began turning it a bright, glowing red. Not waiting to see what Jörmungandr could do with such a weapon, Snake stepped onto the head of the mace and forced it deeper into the magma.
Before Jörmungandr could react, Snake swung Brjótanir around in a blinding arc and slammed it into the side of Jörmungandr's jaw. I heard the bone crack, even from that distance. I also saw the leather thong break away and Jörmungandr go flying over backwards, leaving the mace stuck in the molten rock.
Snake jumped away as the lava began to claim its prize. Slowly, the massive mace was pulled into the magma and sank out of view. Through the growing waves of heat and smoke, I saw Snake glance back at us to make sure we were getting clear of the area. He gave me a grim nod and turned back to the fight.
Slowly, Jörmungandr got back to his feet. Removing his cloak and tossing it away, he reached for two handles that were now visible on his back. With the sound of metal on leather, he drew two wickedly curved blades with handles that stuck out at an angle from the blades. They were curved like scimitars, but ended in double-edged points that were clearly meant for piercing armor. He held them out in front of him and I could see the light of the lava reflected along their gleaming edges.
Ragnarok Rising: Desolation: Book Five of the Ragnarok Rising Saga Page 28