With a snap of his wrists, he spun the blades around so that the curved back side lay along his forearms. While they weren't swords, they were certainly lethal looking. The blades curved out from the handle and attached at the bottom of the fist, curving back along the forearms. The tips stuck out almost a foot past his elbows and looked to be double-edged right up to the arm. Although the pattern on the blades was intricate and clearly of ancient design, it was what else was on the blades that caught my eye. There was something liquid dripping off of the blades.
“What the fuck is that?” demanded Snake, pointing at the blades.
With a sadistic chuckle borne of arrogance and pure evil, Jörmungandr turned towards Snake with a sinister smile playing on his lips.
“Why, Einherjar,” he said, mockingly. “You of all people should know that the fangs of the Midgard Serpent are poisoned.”
“Is this what passes for an honorable fight with you?” snarled Snake. “You're a cheating son-of-a-bitch.”
“Hardly,” he replied coolly. “I have used these special blades for many years. Do not feel flattered that I would use them on you. Besides, I hardly think this is the time to bring honor into this. I intend to kill you. Nothing more, nothing less.”
“Alright, motherfucker,” snarled Snake. “Bring it!”
Crossing his arms and the blades in front of him, Jörmungandr smiled wickedly at Snake. The feral gleam in his eye showed the confidence he felt that this fight was about to be over. For his part, Snake looked unimpressed. It was going to take more than posing and words to intimidate him.
“Prepare yourself, mortal,” said Jörmungandr. “The poison on these blades causes intense pain as it slowly kills you.”
“Oh,” said Snake, chuckling. “Is this where I'm supposed to just give up and beg you not to kill me?”
“You do not fear me?” asked Jörmungandr, incredulously.
“Why should I?” asked Snake. “Seems to me that I've been kicking your ass, up till now.”
Before Snake could reply, Jörmungandr launched at him with astonishing speed. Throwing blows that looked more like a boxer than a swordsman, he threw combinations of attacks that forced Snake on the defensive. For one, he didn't want Jörmungandr to get in too close and cut him to ribbons. Then there was the small matter of the poisoned blades. Even a scratch could wind up being deadly.
Managing to avoid the first onslaught, Snake used the debris littering the area to his advantage. By forcing Jörmungandr to break his routine to move around the larger objects, Snake was able to throw off the rhythm of the attacks. This gave Snake just enough of an advantage to land a series of hits to Jörmungandr's back and legs. Although not critical blows, they were enough to hurt him and slow him down. The damage was beginning to take its toll.
Avoiding a fissure of lava, Snake had to dodge towards the ruins of the library building. Anticipating which way he would go, Jörmungandr threw a savage attack that forced Snake to either block a blow that would have hit his throat or one that was intended for his midsection. The armor absorbed the worst of the hit, but I could see the blood spurt from the jagged wound in his right side. Although he had avoided an immediate killing blow, he was now poisoned. Snake was in trouble.
As we continued down the street away from the square, I tried to keep watching the fight. Although we were getting farther and farther away by the minute, I could still clearly see the fight. It was strange, but it was almost like I was there with them. Maybe I was delusional from the pain or maybe it was something else. I didn't have time to ponder it, though. Jörmungandr was coming again.
Rolling to the side, Snake used an overturned vehicle to buy him time to recover. I could see him holding his hand against the wound on his side and shaking his head. Although the wound wasn't deep enough to kill him right away, the combination of the poison and the blood loss would be taking a severe toll.
Getting back to his feet, I could see Snake begin to sway. He wiped the back of his hand across his brow and shook his head to clear it. Whatever poison was dripping from those blades, it was burning through his veins and slowing him down. He was rapidly running out of time.
Stepping away from the wreckage, Snake stood to his full height and brought Brjótanir up in a defensive stance. He swayed slightly on his feet and looked like he might collapse at any second. Taking a quick glance at us, I could see the resolve on his face. We weren't far enough away to escape Jörmungandr, should he get past Snake.
“Go,” he seemed to say to us, moving his mouth silently.
The grim look of determination on his face told me that he knew he was going to die. The question now was, could he stop Jörmungandr before he did.
“Come on, you son-of-a-bitch!” bellowed Snake. “Where the fuck are you?”
In a blinding blur of movement, Jörmungandr appeared from behind a pile of debris. Taking two running steps, he leapt on top of the overturned vehicle and jumped high into the air. Bringing the two blades up like the fangs of a serpent, Jörmungandr flew right at Snake.
The poison in his veins slowed his reaction, but Snake still fought valiantly. The two blades slammed into his shoulders, piercing the armor and sinking into his chest nearly eight inches before he could swing the hammer around enough to knock Jörmungandr to the side. As the big warrior went rolling into the dirt and debris, the two wickedly curved blades remained stuck in Snake's shoulders.
Roaring in pain and rage, Snake lumbered forward. His footing was unsteady but his determination was the stuff of legends. Above him in the night sky, lightning crackled as it crisscrossed the heavens. Thunder rolled in every direction as Snake brought mighty Brjótanir down with all the power and fury of the Thunder God.
The blow caught Jörmungandr as he was just getting to his hands and knees, catching him in the middle of the back. I can't be sure if it was the sound of thunder or the cracking of his spine that reverberated around the area, rolling away into the distance. The follow up blow crushed Jörmungandr's skull and ended the epic battle decisively. Jörmungandr was dead.
Turning towards us, Snake started taking slow, stumbling steps. He held up the hammer in a victory salute, screaming to the Gods in a wordless roar of triumph. Snake had won the victory, despite all odds. He had achieved the impossible, making it possible for us to escape. The entire square was rapidly filling with lava, making it unlikely that Jörmungandr's men could pursue us. Snake had bought our escape with his blood.
The next few moments would be forever etched into my memory. Snake began taking halting steps towards us, still screaming into the night. Nine steps he took before he stumbled and fell. Nine steps he took as a true Immortal. Nine steps to glory.
As he fell to his knees, our eyes locked for just a moment. I could see the pain there, but also the joy. No one could doubt that Snake would be going home on the wings of the Valkyrie. No one deserved it more. No one.
As he began to fall forward, the ground all around him seemed to ripple and split as the magma emerged and engulfed him. My last glimpse of him was of his hand, still holding Brjótanir aloft. His funeral pyre would be the entire city square of Springfield. It was a fire not even the Gods could miss.
Chapter Twenty One
Shelter From The Storm
“It's not what happens to you, but how you react to it that matters.”
- Epictetus
I faded in and out of consciousness as we made our way out of the area. Despite the fact that the ground continued to shake and remained warm beneath our feet, the lava had stopped just south of the square. Fires were raging all along both sides of South Avenue, turning the already devastated structures into roaring infernos. It was almost as if the entire area had become one giant balefire carrying Snake into the next world.
Glimmering in the night sky through the lightning and clouds, you could occasionally glimpse the sky above. The massive heat from the magma tap had to be burning through the debris layer in the upper atmosphere. Starlight and the strange gree
n lights of the Aurora Borealis were above us. Although I had seen the Aurora before, I had never seen it above Missouri. Once, when I was young, I saw it from the deck of a ship as we took a cruise to Alaska. The colors seemed more vibrant and fluid now. I have no idea why, unless it had something to do with Surtr opening the Bifrost Bridge.
We avoided several roving bands of the dead and took shelter in the same parking garage where I had found Sheriff Hawkins, all those months ago. Bergelmir stood guard while Spec-4 checked my wounds. The big wounds in my abdomen had to have the bandages replaced. Although I was still seeping blood, I could feel the wounds closing. They burned like someone had poured lava into them. I knew it was from the drink that Fornjot had given me.
A stray group of the dead wandered too close to us and Bergelmir quickly dispatched them with his broadsword. It was fortunate that none of them had been Shriekers. No matter how much I wanted to get up and join them, there still wasn't any strength in my limbs. I'd lost too much blood and could barely remain conscious, let alone join them in any kind of battle.
“We've got to find a better place to hold up for the night,” said Spec-4.
“Agreed,” answered Bergelmir. “I am unfamiliar with this place. Do you know of any safe locations?”
“Maybe,” admitted Spec-4. “After everything that has gone on here, I don't know for sure. There's so much damage and so many places have been destroyed.”
“This place looks almost as bad as St. Louis,” said Bridgett. “I guess all big cities took a beating from the dead.”
“My place,” I rasped, my voice thick and slurred.
“What?” asked Spec-4.
“Last time I was there,” I wheezed, “it was mostly…intact.”
“Can we defend it?” asked Bridgett.
“Yeah,” I said, coughing. “I've got…more…gear there.”
“What kind of gear?” asked Spec-4. “I thought we rounded up all the ammo and guns we could find.”
“Food and medical stuff,” I muttered. “Maybe a few knives.”
“Good enough for me,” said Spec-4. “Besides, it's not like we have a lot of other options. Which way?”
“Southwest of here,” I said, pointing.
“Then we should not waste time,” rumbled Bergelmir. “We should get moving before we are discovered.”
With that, Bridgett and Spec-4 lifted me up and slid beneath my arms. I tried to help them walk, but my legs wouldn't support my weight. I did manage to suppress my groan of pain as they moved me. Thank the All-Father for small favors. I didn't want to admit to them that all I wanted to do was lay down and pass out until the pain subsided. I had to endure until we were safe, or at least safer.
Despite myself, I kept fading in and out of consciousness. One time, I opened my eyes and saw that we were moving past what I knew had to be Maple Park Cemetery. I felt the eyes of the dead upon us as we moved. Not the living dead that were moving around, but the ones who had gone long before any of this. Ragnarok was on Earth and even the dead no longer felt safe. I felt that even they wanted us to succeed in defeating Loki's plans. Then again, I could be delirious.
“I think he's got a fever,” whispered Bridgett.
“I know he does,” replied Spec-4, softly. “He's been burning up with it for over an hour.”
“Well, that explains it,” I thought.
At least, I thought it did. Even the fever didn't explain the shadowy figures I saw moving among the tombstones as we walked past the cemetery. It didn’t change the cold shiver that I felt run down my spine as I saw the empty eyes of the faces that peered out at me through the bars on the cemetery fence.
I wasn't sure how much time had passed when I felt us come to a stop. I could feel them gently lowering me to the ground. The fever was burning me up and I could feel the rivulets of sweat running down my face and hear the steady drip as they hit the ground beneath me. My senses were working overtime. I could hear, smell and feel everything with stark clarity. The pain was exquisite and I could feel every drop of sweat on my body. I could hear the blood pumping through my veins. My vision, however, refused to cooperate. I couldn't see shit.
“Do you think he's going to make it?” I heard Bridgett whispering to Spec-4.
I knew they had to be several feet away. Normally, I wouldn't have been able to hear them, but now it was like they were whispering it directly into my ears.
“I don't know,” replied Spec-4, worry in her voice. “I've never seen him hurt this bad.”
“We might have to be prepared for the fact that he won't,” said Bridgett, softly.
“Don't count me out yet,” I muttered, trying and failing to set up.
“How did he hear us?” said Bridgett, shock in her voice.
“I don't know,” said Spec-4.
“I can hear just fine,” I said, “but I can't see anything. Where the fuck are we?”
“We're inside Bass Pro,” said Spec-4. “We needed a place to hide for a while and this building looked empty. Bergelmir is checking it out right now.”
I lay there in silence for a long moment. Spec-4 and Bridgett weren't talking and I couldn't hear much beyond their breathing and my own ragged heartbeat. I could feel myself drifting out again when I heard approaching footsteps. I hoped it was Bergelmir, but when I heard the bolt on Spec-4's rifle being pulled I doubted that it was.
“Do not fire,” I heard the big warrior rumble.
I almost shouted for joy. It was bad enough that I couldn't get up and join in the fighting, but it would have been infinitely worse to lay there unable to do anything. I just had to hope that they weren't overwhelmed. To lay there and be unable to do anything as the dead closed in around me was worse than death. I felt completely helpless.
“Did you find anything?” asked Bridgett.
“I searched the store and found little of use,” replied Bergelmir. “All of the camping gear and weapons have long-since been looted. There is nothing remaining in the store that we would be able to use.”
“Alright, what did you find that might be useful?” asked Spec-4.
“Near the back of the store I found that the stairway leading to the upper levels have been removed,” he added. “There appears to be offices and perhaps more on the upper level.”
“Is that good news?” asked Bridgett. “I don't see how that helps us, at all.”
“I checked every possible way to gain access to the upper level and found only one possible way,” added Bergelmir. “We will have to climb the rock formation near the elevator.”
“OK, I'll bite,” said Spec-4. “Why?”
“I am glad that you asked,” said Bergelmir.
I could tell that he was deliberately dragging the explanation out. He seemed very happy with whatever it was he was telling them.
“As I stood there in the darkness,” he began, “I thought that I heard a noise. I stopped and listened, turning off my light so that I would be able to focus more. Then, in the complete darkness, I saw it.”
“Saw what?” snapped Bridgett, growing impatient.
“Up on the second level was a flicker of light,” said Bergelmir. “It had to have been coming through a tiny crack in a door or wall.”
“What does that mean?” asked Bridgett.
“It means that someone's up there,” said Spec-4.
“Precisely,” said Bergelmir, clearly pleased with himself.
“So do we go up and introduce ourselves?” asked Bridgett.
“I was thinking more like kicking in their door and shooting our way inside,” said Spec-4. “We need a safe place to hide. If they've stayed hidden up there for all this time, then it's got to be safe.”
“That is exactly what I was thinking, as well,” added Bergelmir.
“What if they won't let us in?” asked Bridgett.
“Then we go with my plan,” said Spec-4, darkly.
I may never know which plan they went with. I blacked out shortly after hearing that conversation. When I came to, I
was laying on a cot with a cool cloth pressed to my forehead. I remember from years past that there was a restaurant on the second floor of Bass Pro. It was named after one of my favorite writers. The place was called Hemingway's and was famous for the best seafood in the area. Long before I had married Karen, I dated a waitress that had worked there. I recognized part of the décor as the restaurant. Obviously, it had been cleared out to accommodate survivors.
The room was lit by dynamo powered lanterns. Although the air was thick with the smell of people, it wasn't unpleasant. Obviously they had found a way to deal with waste products, both human and otherwise. In fact, considering that they had been locked in here for months, they had done quite well for themselves. I lolled my head to the side and saw that Spec-4 was sitting next to me, asleep against the wall.
There wasn't much movement going on, so I could only assume it was late at night. I knew that it was late when we were discussing coming here. I could hear the soft breathing of several people around the room, indicating that they were all asleep. Only Bergelmir stood rigid and awake. He stood near the foot of the cot that I was on, his sword drawn and the tip grounded with his hands folded across the pommel. I wasn't sure if he was guarding the entrance or guarding me.
I didn't want to disturb anyone and I didn’t exactly feel like talking, so I just let my eyes drift back closed. It required almost no effort for me to slip back into a deep sleep. I felt like I was falling slowly into deep water. I drifted farther and farther down, weightless and unable to stop myself from drifting deeper and deeper into the cool embrace of slumber. Although I knew I was asleep, it felt like my conscious brain was still functional. I was aware of what was going on. Having experienced this type of lucid dreaming before, I knew what was going to happen next. I started looking for the Old Man that I had come to know as Odin. He didn't make me wait for long.
At first, it began as a cool breeze on my face. Soon, the cool breeze grew stronger and I could feel drops of water occasionally striking my skin. They felt cold and I relished the feeling against my face. It was exhilarating and refreshing. Slowly, the breeze grew into a steady wind, which became a gale. I could feel the lurch of motion beneath me and knew that the floor was heaving up and down. Combined with the slightly salty taste of the water that was now sheeting down my face, I knew that I was on a boat.
Ragnarok Rising: Desolation: Book Five of the Ragnarok Rising Saga Page 29