The Devil's Highway (Journeyman Book 4)

by Golden Czermak

  I'd let you drive if I knew the destination was mutually beneficial, Dozer continued. This arrangement has so far been nothing more than a one-way street. I mean, have you looked around, bud? We are on a fucking ice planet just like that old space wars movie.

  “What's your point?” Botis retorted.

  My point is: we have a deal and it seems you've put it on the back burner.

  “Things like this take time,” Boris cautioned, “especially against someone as powerful as Dajjal. If we don't play this right, he could smite us before we took our first true steps against him.”

  Aren't you just as powerful, or what that a lie?

  “It wasn't a lie! Brute strength isn't going to give us the upper hand; as I told you the only way to win this is a combination of brawn and brains.”

  I've found brawn works just as well by those who know how to do it right. Even Dajjal seemed to be good enough against my family, or have you forsaken that part of the dealio?

  Botis shot his eyes sharply upward. “You're really testing my patience,” he groaned.

  Haha! YOUR patience, demon? Mine has been stretched to the breaking point. So, Einstein, tell me what your grand strategy is, considering this little detour of being locked away in an iron box on top of a fucking dinner table?

  “I… haven't thought that far ahead yet.”

  I am not surprised one goddamn bit.

  “Well I am all ears to hear what your strategy is,” Botis mumbled, “or does it only involve smashing and grunting to ensure Dajjal’s demise?”

  Whatever.

  “Look, I have told you now too many times to remember: Dajjal’s end must be seen through strategically. We need to gain an advantage, which is why I came here to retrieve the Crown. Having something he needs gives us some leverage.”

  Good fucking job there, because the Crown’s on that giant king’s finger. Better yet, slap one of those sigils of yours on a piece of this rust for a crown, or maybe a little chink of ice for a more suitable tiara.

  “Enough! This is ridiculous and I have far much thinking to do.”

  Very well, but know that if you don't do something very soon, I will make sure I get you out of this fucking body… MY body… and do shit myself.

  Their argument was cut short, the sound of the main door opening filling the space. Blunt and heavy footsteps followed, approaching from the far side of the room. Something massive had entered, slinking in the dark.

  “Who goes there?” asked Botis, unable to make out any details.

  There was no answer, unless cage shaking could be counted as one. It didn’t last long though, a prolonged creak taking its place as the clunky door opened.

  “I asked you a question!” Botis stated, veiling his nervousness in the comfort of hellfire. “Who are you!”

  Something hastily moved toward the other side, where a shaft of light could reveal its features

  “Now, now don’t melt me, little one,” Agnar urged, pointing a blue finger toward the open door. “Hurry now! I think it is time you returned home.”

  “Agnar!” Botis whispered forcefully. “You're letting me go, against the King’s will? Why?”

  “Because of what you spoke of before our arrival at the citadel,” he replied. “I do not want to say that I sense good in you, because for us Jötnar that would be one of our greatest insults.”

  Botis actually managed a laughed. “I agree and thankfully you kept that to yourself. But seriously… this could cost you your life. It’s treason.”

  “The short answer is you know of honor,” Agnar continued, “and courage, and what it means to be a warrior. These are traits not found in many – even royalty – and should be preserved at all cost when it comes to light. Perhaps I am naïve in my age, but I would like to believe whatever the form we take on the outside, our hearts still beat as warriors one and the same.”

  “I could not agree more, Agnar,” Botis said. A quick flash of puzzlement came over his brow and beard. “Age? How old are you anyway?”

  “Six hundred years by our reckoning.”

  Botis stroked away the bewilderment. “Well, I think that is enough of a vintage to move beyond naivety toward some wisdom. This said I thank you, but I cannot leave just yet,” Botis replied, still shocked by Agnar’s actions in his favor, but more so his own. Perhaps his host had more influence on him than he thought. “There is something I need to retrieve …”

  “That is something Thrym bears upon his finger, no doubt?”

  Botis’ eyes widened, redder than they had ever been before. “How did you…”

  “Surmised it many years ago actually,” Agnar replied. “Everything changed once that evil thing came to our realm through the Rainbow Bridge from Midgard. After that and the effects it had upon Thrym, Heimdall was likely instructed by Odin to seal the realms in order to contain its power. You know, there is a part of me that feels Jötunheim is the only realm that has been sealed off; the other realms are probably still connected as they have always been.”

  “That sounds intriguing, but how do you know all of this?” Botis questioned, highly fascinated yet doubtful as to the authenticity of what he was hearing.

  “Guesswork mainly, from the timing of that ring’s arrival to the subsequent actions of Asgard. As you know, the warrior’s way can lead to the discovery of a great many things, not all of which has to be in battle.”

  “Agreed, but know that is no ring,” Botis clarified. “It is a crown; the crown of my former ruler.”

  “A crown? This adds a new dimension to the mix, especially considering your stature compared to our own.” Agnar raised a hand and muttered something in Old Norse; the howling winds that had taken his armor away returned them to his body, along with his halberd and shield.

  “As much as I would love to hear your stories, Botis, it is now time.”

  Botis admired himself in armor as Agnar reached toward his own arm, caressing his hand longingly for a few seconds. “My hand, you must destroy it,” he told Botis.

  The demon hesitated, something he had never done before. “My… um… apologies. It’s clear to me now that my vessel is asserting itself yet, I am not angered. That said, I cannot do that to you, Agnar.”

  “You must, or I will be forced to do it myself,” Agnar pleaded. “It is the only way to cover my own betrayal in the eyes of those who do not understand. I was sent to check on your status and if you were to escape with me unscathed, the brightest light would shine down on my motives.”

  Botis sighed, knowing Agnar was right.

  The giant held his hand out toward him, shutting his eyes. “You must do it, Botis. Do it now!”

  With little choice and Agnar incessant urging, Botis reared back to throw the halberd when a muffled voice came from outside, distinct and recognizable, stopping him.

  “Dajjal!”

  Botis and Agnar both made their way toward a window situated nearby, staring out into the snowy fortress plaza. There they saw an armored demon with flaming sword and shield, one wing flapped pompously behind him. Several jötunn guards had taken position to block his way into the throne room, tall and proud in equal measure to Dajjal’s ferocity.

  “We were told of your potential arrival, false messiah,” said the captain of the guard. “You shall not enter this place.”

  “There’s that moniker again; for Hell’s sake I wish that could be left in the past. Greatness has arrived, for I am Al-Masih ad-Dajjal and I have come for what is rightfully mine. To deny me is to suffer.”

  All the guards took position as frozen spikes rose out of the ground. “Then we will suffer with joy at seeing you try.”

  The jötunn grabbed the spikes they had summoned and hurled them at Dajjal.

  The demon’s wing flapped and with a powerful scream that shook the walls he launched himself in their direction, his flaming sword ready to taste frost.

  THE SNOWSTORM WAS brutal as the wind screamed through the translucent passages of the cave. Gage and Marcus were sq
ueezing sideways along a thin gap in those icy walls, off to God knows where, if only for the purpose of escaping what they had left back there.

  “I think we finally lost it,” Marcus said, his face stiff and hard to move from the bitter cold that continued to blow across it. Clattering his teeth between each word, he inched down the channel longing to be out of it in a wider space. “Whatever it was.”

  “I'm thinkin’ about it,” said Gage, breathing just as heavily, but due to his added size he was straining more against the walls. “You're a lore master compared to me though.”

  “Well,” Marcus grunted, “we both pale in comparison to Joey, so it'll be good to get him back at a hundred percent.”

  “Ain't that… the… truth,” Gage replied with an uncomfortable numbness in his throat. “I think I'm gonna have to eat cough drops like candy when we get back.”

  “Yeah, me too,” Marcus continued nervously, his chest pressed tightly up against the ice, though insulated by his makeshift fur coat. His backpack scraped along the slippery walls, sending his heart beating faster. The edges of his vision started to blur and darken. He needed to be out of there and soon.

  As if answering his prayers, the passage widened just a few feet away from him, but since fate was such a cruel bitch to Journeymen in general, an even narrower cavity was there just before freedom.

  “Um… Gage.”

  He didn't hear him. “I’ve never run so fast in my damn life,” Gage said while looking around with the unmistakable feeling of being chunky. “At least that monster couldn’t fit in here if it wanted to, though truth be known, I’m starting to wonder if I can myself.”

  “Well, we are about to find out how much you can suck in that gut of yours.” Marcus brushed a couple fingers against Gage's shoulder. “See, take a look.”

  Gage looked down the channel past Marcus and saw the extremely narrow opening. “Well fuck me literally sideways, M. After we’ve won, remind my ass that I need to go on a major diet; ya know, just in case we ever need to shuffle down narrow ice tunnels in the arctic or something in future.”

  Marcus laughed as he reached it. “Riiight, I’ll jot that down.” Sucking in his stomach and pushing the backpack overhead, Marcus wrestled his way past the obstacle fairly easily. His heart started slow its rhythm, the space beyond the gap widened significantly. “Your turn big man!”

  Gage grunted something under his breath, giving Marcus his backpack. Thinking that he might still be too wide, Gage removed his fur covering and coat underneath, handing them over too.

  Marcus stared down at the garments and wasn't going to waste the opportunity to be warmer for a few minutes. Promptly he put on Gage’s coat and the additional fur. Glancing back over to Gage, Marcus wished he hadn’t. The look he was getting would probably vaporize him if Gage could shoot lasers out of his eyes. Luckily he didn’t have that ability, though as far as Marcus could guess any of the remaining Solomon Six could have some strange effects.

  Gage returned his attention to getting through the gap, lifting up his muscular arms, finding his chest still poking out quite far. However, he was able to suck in his gut pretty far – a benefit from his early bodybuilding days. With a lot of subsequent effort and even more internal blustering, he popped out the other side like some irritated pimple.

  “That didn't take as long as I thought it would,” Marcus said apologetically as Gage swaggered over to him with outstretched hands. He put Gage’s fur back in one and his coat in the other before adjusting his own coverings.

  “Didn’t take as long as you were expecting it to?” Gage asked as he reassembled his outfit. “What, were ya planning on getting us a warm and cozy fire started, or better yet a nice tent with an expansion spell on it?”

  Marcus’ eyes bulged slightly and his face became a tinge redder. “Yeah…that would be a no. What do you think I am, some kind of wizard?”

  Gage feigned shock and grabbed back his bag, the duo walking out into a large chamber. “So tell me Oz,” Gage said as he surveyed the luminous walls and all their beauty, “what's the compass tellin’ us.”

  While he waited, Gage smelled the crisp air and observed the stunning domed space, imbued with misty blue moonlight that filtered in from two large holes high above the white ground. The snow was pristine, freshly fallen from the recent storm and despite the cold, everything viewed together made Gage feel at ease.

  Marcus was looking around too, holding tightly onto a glass disc in his hand. The floor was a slippery in spots and he didn't want to chance breaking the only thing giving them a chance. The crystalline shard within the disc spun around wildly for a few seconds before swinging back in the direction they came, a narrow fissure on the other side pulling the shard in its direction as well. It glimmered with a frosty light.

  “I think that tunnel over there is our destination,” Marcus surmised. “Plus the crystal isn't wavering too much. I can see where it’s pointing back toward the Door in the Mountain, but it’s not moving much in this other direction, either. I'm thinking the treasure, be it Crown or Scythe, may be just on the other side.”

  “Thank ya M,” Gage said. “That sounds amazing. The walk doesn't seem too bad either and I’m so glad, because I don't think I could stand another second trekking through blizzards and shit, or being chased by…” Gage froze at the sound of a low growl. “Marcus, please tell me that was your stomach.”

  Marcus looked baffled, not hearing anything. He saw Gage repeating something under his breath, lips mouthing what looked like the words ‘say yes’. Marcus frowned, knowing that he was about to upset him. “No, it wasn’t…”

  There was no need to ask why, another growl answering for him but this time much louder…

  That’s when Marcus saw it over to his right, underneath a side passage.

  Gage did too. Reminding him of the bunyip they had encountered back in Amarillo, he took a step back – flashbacks of the past seeping into the present.

  The two of them hadn’t been spotted yet and could possibly retreat to the safety of the narrow passage they'd come from, waiting for an opportunity to safely cross the chamber.

  There was another deep growl, the creature lumbering across the ground about fifteen feet tall. From its back and along all four of its limbs, flowing white hair swept through the fresh snow while horns protruded from each side of its head. Menacing fangs dripped saliva onto the ground like a leaking faucet.

  Marcus gulped, taking the opportunity to step back as well. He hit a slick patch of ice hidden beneath a thin layer of snow and toppled onto this back, cushioned by the backpack and thankfully still holding onto the compass. However, the scuffle was enough to draw the attention of the beast, which yanked its head in their direction with black nostrils flared.

  That’s when Gage noticed its eyes, filled with an unsatisfied hunger and absolutely no remorse. “Oh shit!” he said as the creature roared, then charged straight at Marcus. “No!”

  Gage turned his head sharply, unable to bear witness to the carnage. Rough whines and screaming louder than anything he had heard before echoed throughout the chamber, followed by the definite crunch of teeth on bone.

  Marcus…

  Suddenly something grabbed his arm and pulled him further into the chamber.

  Marcus…

  “Gage!” Marcus whispered forcefully, snapping him to attention.

  “You're alive?”

  “Yes, for now! We only have a few seconds to head for the exit. RUN!”

  The duo hauled ass for the fissure on the other side but as they ran, Gage slowed as curiosity got the better of him. He took a look over to where the beast had been, then wished he hadn’t.

  The creature that charged them was bitten roughly in half, frostbitten at the edges of its shredded flesh. Its plump and still moving innards littered the ground, staining the chamber with blood.

  That was not the worst of it.

  Looming above the slaughter was a thing even more menacing, standing at least twice as
tall. At a first and fleeting glance, it looked like some kind of troll, its skin made of angular rock or possibly the darkest ice. It was chewing a massive hulk of wooly meat, flopping between its jagged teeth. Drool and blood spilled around as it looked down to its prey with entirely turquoise eyes.

  Marcus glanced back over his shoulder and saw that Gage was falling behind. “Come on!” he hissed, “before the big, bad, monster notices us.”

  “Comin’!” Gage muttered, returning to a full on sprint. Behind him, there was an indomitable bellow, as if some great horn had been blown, followed by rumbling footsteps. “I think someone wants something different to eat!”

  Sure enough, the massive beast was in pursuit, honing in on Gage as it slipped around on portions of the slick floor, careening into the walls as it continued with a singular purpose: food. The impacts sent vibrations throughout the cave and the ceiling began to crack and groan.

  “Ah shit!” Gage shouted as portions of the towering roof came loose, tumbling to the floor like bombs, exploding with icy shrapnel. “I hope one of these goddamn rocks hits that fucking thing right in the face!”

  Marcus reached the fissure, waiting at its opening for Gage. He watched as the monstrous thing closed in on him regardless of all of the sliding and stumbling it was doing. He slung his backpack to the ground and with shaking fingers unzipped it, pulling out a fire stone.

  “Let’s see how effective you are,” he said to it, then blew across its runes. Charged and sparking, Marcus lobbed the rock in Gage’s direction – hoping and praying some of those rounds of baseball with Joey paid off.

  Apparently a good pitcher, the stone arched past Gage. Before the beast was able to impale Gage with its fork-like hands, the stone exploded.