Ragnarok Rising: Desolation: Book Five of the Ragnarok Rising Saga

by D. A. Roberts

  Lightning split the darkness, and I was in another place. No longer was I merely laying on a cot in an unfamiliar room. I was standing on the deck of a Viking Drekkar Longship. I could see the ornately crafted dragon-head on the prow of the ship. As the ship began to rise, I could see that we were riding waves that towered over the wooden ship. The swell of the seas had to be close to fifty feet tall.

  As I turned around, I could see the Old Man manning the tiller. Despite the driving rain, the raging seas and the storm above us, he was smiling broadly. Motioning for me to join him, I made my way to the aft section of the ship. With a gesture, he motioned for me to take over the tiller. I accepted the task and had to lean into the handle to maintain our course against the heavy seas.

  “Careful to stay the course,” he said, his voice full of mirth.

  “What?” I called back, glancing towards him.

  “I said stay the course,” he shouted. “You are still in deep water and far from safe harbor. Do not let go of the tiller, now.”

  As lighting flashed and lit up the night, he gestured behind us. I glanced to where he was pointing and saw many other ships behind us. They were following our course, marking our turns and progress. It became clear that we were the lead ship of the fleet and the others were counting on us to steer them into a safe harbor.

  “The others are counting on you to guide them in,” he said, putting a strong hand on the back of my neck. “More than just the crew of this ship is counting on you to steer the right course.”

  Each time the lightning flashed and we crested a wave, I could see more and more ships stretching off into the darkness. There were more ships than I could easily count. Some were Drekkars like my own, but others were clearly transports and merchant ships. The imagery wasn't lost on me. I can appreciate a metaphor as much as the next guy. I understood what he was trying to tell me. Far more was riding on this than just us. There were still ships out there in the darkness that we couldn't see. If we didn't find a way to beat Loki, then no one was going to make it to the harbor.

  The Old Man looked at me with a proud smile on his lips. I felt the grip on the back of my neck tighten in an affectionate squeeze. He didn't say anything else. He didn't need to. I understood what was riding on our shoulders. I also caught the subtle warning about not letting our guard down. Something was going on here that we needed to worry about. The question was, just what was going on with these people?

  Chapter Twenty Two

  Desperate Hours

  “It is only the promise of death that makes life worth living.”

  ― Robert E. Howard

  I lay there almost asleep, listening to the breathing of the people around me in the darkness. On the floor next to me, Spec-4 and Bridgett were sleeping soundly, perhaps for the first time in many days. Even Bergelmir seemed to be dozing, leaned back against the wall beside the barricaded door. Just as I was about to fade back into slumber, I heard soft voices whispering in the darkness.

  “Should we make a move, now?” asked one man, his voice barely audible.

  “Not yet,” replied another. “I'm not sure the big one is completely asleep. If we move too early, we'll have to fight him. Frankly, I'm not sure we can take him in a fair fight.”

  “So, we just fill him full of lead,” answered the first voice.

  “No, I want to take him out quietly,” insisted the other. “If we don't, we'll have to fight the women, too. I want them alive. At least, for a while.”

  The last part was delivered with a lecherous tone that I instantly recognized. They were planning on killing me and Bergelmir so they could take Spec-4 and Bridgett and do unspeakable things to them. As bad as I was injured, I still wasn't about to let that happen. Not while I was still drawing breath.

  “What about the one on the cot?” asked the first voice.

  “Didn't you see his white beard?” retorted the other. “For one, he's old. And for another thing, he's hurt so bad that he probably won't wake up no matter what we do. We can kill him whenever we feel like.”

  “Just in time, too,” said the first voice. “We've almost eaten the last of the others. We could definitely use more smoked provisions.”

  “Holy shit!” my brain screamed. “These fuckers are cannibals.”

  It was worse than I had imagined. They weren't just going to kill Bergelmir and me, they were going to eat us. Well, they were going to try. Better than these assholes had tried to take us down and they were all dead. If I had anything to do with it, they were about to join the list of the ones we'd put paid to. Now, if only I could get my arms and legs to work.

  They waited in silence, not moving or speaking again. I had no trouble staying awake. The sudden revelation of what they were planning had brought me fully awake like no cup of coffee ever had. I was alert and listening hard for any sound or indication that they were going to make their move.

  Bergelmir was snoring softly, his chin resting on his chest. I noticed that his broadsword was across his knees with his hand resting lightly on the hilt. It wouldn't take much to bring him up, ready for battle. I just wasn't sure I could muster the strength to even do that much. I felt like I couldn't move or even make any noise louder than a whisper. Lifting my head was almost more than I could bear.

  Almost imperceptibly, I heard soft movement from across the room. Slowly, I turned my head so that I could see what the source was. I could see two figures crawling through the debris and furniture in the middle of the room. They were moving so gradually that they weren't making much of a sound. They were almost slithering through the tables and chairs, creeping steadily closer to the sleeping Bergelmir.

  I moved my head as little as possible to keep them in sight. I noticed that they were carrying long hunting knives. I had little doubt that they were intending on slitting Bergelmir's throat while he slept. I wanted to scream out a warning, but my lungs just wouldn't cooperate. Neither would my legs. I could move my hands a bit, but not enough to reach for anything that might be of use.

  After what felt like an eternity, I watched as they crept close enough to Bergelmir to get slowly to their feet. They glanced at each other and started to move towards the unsuspecting warrior. I was desperate to find anything that I could use to warn him. I felt around, but they had removed my armor and pack. My weapons were laying a few feet away with the rest of my gear.

  When I reached my belt, I discovered that although they had removed my chest armor and gear, my belt was still around my waist. Then my hands fell on a familiar handle. The welcome feeling of the wooden grips of my XVR. A smile played across my lips as I gently pulled it out of the holster.

  I was lucky that it was beneath the blankets that were covering me. They didn’t hear the soft rasp as it came clear of the holster. They paused when they heard the faintest hint of the hammer cocking. They waited for a few seconds, then shrugged and started to creep forward.

  Raising the pistol without removing the blankets, I could only guess as to the aim. However, at this distance, it would be hard to miss. I leveled the pistol at the closest target and hoped my aim was true. With the strength almost gone from my arms, I could only pray that I was going to even come close to my intended target.

  “Hey!” I hissed.

  They both turned with wild looks of surprise on their faces. The sudden boom as the XVR spit fire and death through the blanket was absolute shock. The massive .460 magnum hollow point struck the closest one in the left side of the chest, just above the nipple. The tremendous impact knocked him flying over backwards with a hole the size of a cantaloupe in the middle of his back. Bloody chunks of flesh flew across the room and stuck to the wall, along with a large splash of crimson.

  Bergelmir leapt to his feet when the XVR resounded, the sword grasped in his hands ready for battle. It only took him an instant to observe and understand what our “hosts” were planning to do to him before I shot one of them. Before the second man could say a word, Bergelmir snapped the massive blade across in a down
ward angle and cut the man from left shoulder to right hip.

  Spec-4 and Bridgett jumped to their feet, pulling weapons up and looking around for targets of their own. As the rest of the group of the others started jumping to their feet brandishing knives, pistols and machetes, Spec-4 started cutting them down with her suppressed M-4. Bridgett took out two with well placed arrows. Then Bergelmir waded into the fray, sword cleaving bloody death wherever it met flesh.

  In mere moments, the fight was over. The group of cannibals fell easily. They were more adept at killing people in their sleep, not facing them one on one. Spec-4 and Bergelmir were combat experts and Bridgett was almost their equal. They easily secured the room in less than a minute. So much for the cannibal threat.

  I was about to shout (alright wheeze) for joy when I heard it. At first there was only one, then there were others. All in all, I counted six. It was the howling of a hunting pack of Vargr. They had undoubtedly heard the sound of the XVR when I had killed the first one. They would be coming this way, any second.

  “Oh fuck,” I managed to croak.

  “Indeed,” agreed Bergelmir.

  “We need to get out of here,” snapped Spec-4.

  As they frantically began gathering our gear, I heard the front of the building crash as the Vargr exploded through the boat showroom glass and began searching the interior of Bass Pro for their intended prey. Unfortunately, that was us. We were officially out of time and our options of escape were few.

  I tried to roll out of bed and reach for my weapons, but Spec-4 stopped me by placing her hand on my chest. I could see the fear in her eyes, but resolve as well.

  “Easy there, Wylie,” she cautioned. “You're in no shape for a fight, right now.”

  “What choice do we have?” I managed to croak, despite the pain that was lancing through my abdomen and shoulder.

  “Get him ready to move,” said Bergelmir, darkly. “When you are prepared to go, I will buy you the time you need to get away.”

  “No,” I snapped, trying to sit up despite Spec-4's resistance.

  “You must get clear,” admonished Bergelmir. “You have to face Loki and Thrym. Regain your strength and finish this battle.”

  With that, Bergelmir began replacing his armor and gathering his weapons. He would not look at me, knowing full-well that I was going to try to talk him out of it.

  “He's right, you know,” said Spec-4, softly. “He's our best shot at getting away.”

  “Then why get away at all,” I growled. “Let's just finish them off and we can all leave together.”

  “Because more will come,” added Bergelmir. “The longer we wait, the greater number that will arrive. You must get clear of this area before they surround it and prevent any chance of escape.”

  “Fuck,” I hissed.

  I knew he was right, but I couldn't stand the thought of letting him fight for me. I had already lost Snake and I didn't want to lose him too. Despite the fact that I wanted to fight them myself, I knew that there was no way that I could. Hel, I couldn't even stand without Spec-4 and Bridgett holding me up, let alone go into battle against warriors that were both bigger and stronger than me. Not with any hope of coming out of it alive, anyway.

  “What if he wins?” asked Bridgett. “How will he find us?”

  “The same way I did before,” replied Bergelmir. “I tracked Wylie across the state. It should be no problem to track you across town.”

  “Don't lose,” I managed to say though the pain.

  “I do not plan to,” said Bergelmir, nodding grimly. “Get him on his feet and get clear of here.”

  “Let's move,” said Spec-4, shouldering her pack and checking the load on her M-4.

  When she helped me up by my right arm, the pain that shot through me almost caused me to pass out. Only through the supreme force of will, did I manage to avoid screaming out in anguish. Searing hot needles lanced through my abdomen and chest as Bridgett lifted my left arm and slid underneath it.

  They raised me to my feet as gently as they could, but my vision blurred and I think I might have lost consciousness for a few moments. When I could see clearly, we were moving towards the back stairs. Behind us, I could see Bergelmir striding towards the front of the building with his sword already clutched in his right hand. Although he didn't look back, I knew the intense look on his face all too well. I'd seen it before, when he had been doing his best to kill me. I suddenly didn't envy the warriors that were going to have to face him.

  We picked our way down the back stairs and emerged through a door on the south side of the building. Spec-4 had to clear a few obstacles that they had used to barricade the door, but other than that it was relatively clear sailing. At least I thought it was until the south wall of the showroom exploded in a flurry of fur, fangs and debris. One of the Vargr had smashed through into the street.

  He must have had bigger problems on his mind at that moment, because he turned back to the building and crouched low to spring back inside. Before he could leap, Bergelmir dove through the opening with the other two Vargr in hot pursuit. As Bergelmir rolled to his feet, they surrounded him. All three of the warriors were still mounted on their Vargr, which gave them a decisive advantage.

  Spec-4, Bridgett and I were moving away slowly, but not fast enough to escape if Bergelmir fell. There was no way we were going to outrun one, let alone three, of those massive Vargr. Despite my overwhelming desire to go back and help him fight, I knew that there was nothing I could do. If Spec-4 and Bridgett let go of me, I wouldn't even be able to stand on my own.

  Overhead, I heard an unmistakable cawing sound. It was the distinctive cry of a raven. It was answered by another. They were circling above us, no doubt watching the events unfold. I had little doubt that the All-Father was keenly interested in the outcome of this battle. The fate of us all rested in Bergelmir's hands.

  As we began to move around a corner, Bridgett stumbled over a broken section of sidewalk. She nearly dropped me and I sank to my knees as Spec-4 struggled to hold me up. The pain that shot through my stomach was excruciating and I threw up onto the ground. My head began to spin and my vision blurred. I could hear Spec-4 saying my name, but I couldn't make out anything else. Then I blacked out.

  Instead of darkness, there was the oddest sense of motion. I felt like I was flying. As my vision came back into focus, the first thing I noticed was that it was in stereo again. I was seeing through two eyes. If that wasn't strange enough, I was also looking down on the city of Springfield. I could feel the cool air rushing over my body and knew I was flying. Then suddenly it struck me, I was either dreaming or I was seeing through the eyes of one of the ravens.

  Hallucination or not, I was banking around over the battle between Bergelmir and the others. In a flurry of flapping wings, I felt myself perching on the branch of a tree high above the battle. I could see everything with remarkable clarity. I could hear the grunts of the warriors and the snarls of the Vargr. It was almost like I was really there.

  The three Vargr began to slowly circle Bergelmir, waiting for an opening. Although they outnumbered him, they were being cautious. I couldn't blame them. Pound for pound, Bergelmir was one of the most skilled warriors I'd ever seen. If they weren't careful, he would kill them all. That, as a matter of fact, was exactly what I was hoping would happen.

  One of the Vargr made a feint, but Bergelmir held his ground. He didn't react to the lunge, knowing that they were only testing him. The second Vargr was emboldened by his lack of reaction and tried to lunge in to bite him in the back. In a flash, Bergelmir reversed the sword and drove the blade right between the beast's eyes. It sank into the skull, burying about a foot of steel into the creature's cranium.

  With a savage twist and a yank, the sword came free and Bergelmir was slashing at the falling rider. The rider managed to dive to the side, narrowly avoiding being disemboweled. However, he didn't escape unscathed. Bergelmir's blade dug a long furrow down the diving warrior's right side, slicing through a
rmor and sending a spray of blood into the air. It wasn't an instant kill, but it was deep enough that the warrior would need medical attention before he bled out.

  Before he could press the attack, a second Vargr lunged for him and he had to turn his attention away from the wounded Hrimthurssar that lay before him. Bergelmir twisted around and slashed viciously at the head of the beast. The creature managed to leap to the side, only millimeters away from having his skull split in half. It still lost its right ear and most of the flesh on the side of its head.

  Howling in pain, the monstrous wolf bound away from Bergelmir. The rider was unable to keep his grip and went over backwards onto the asphalt. Instead of pursuing the beast, Bergelmir calmly turned towards the remaining rider and brought the sword up in a defensive stance.

  “It does not have to end this way, Suttung,” rumbled Bergelmir. “I know you have your doubts about Thrym.”

  “I have no desire to kill Grant,” said Suttung. “I have great respect for Grant, but I have my orders. Thrym wants his head.”

  “Then Thrym should come and claim that prize on his own,” replied Bergelmir. “If he can.”

  “He intends to,” retorted Suttung. “We are scouts, not a raiding party.”

  The warrior that had been wounded got slowly to his feet. I could see that he was reaching for something, and I was expecting a weapon. When he brought out a signal horn, my mind screamed a warning. They were about to call them all down on us. If he sounded that horn, every Hrimthurssar in the city would know where we were.

  As he brought the horn to his lips, Bergelmir stepped quickly towards him and neatly severed his head before the horn sounded a single note.