Ragnarok Rising

by D. A. Roberts

  Putting my head down, I sprinted as hard as I could towards the stairs. As I approached them, I knew that I was going to need a distraction for the Stalkers that were undoubtedly waiting in the darkness below. Unfortunately, most of my gear was still on the bike. I was going to have to make do with what I had on me, and that was regrettably few options.

  I reached the top of the stairs with a good lead on the nearest of the dead. Grimnir was heading towards me, but the one thing I had an advantage over him with was speed. His massive size was working against him this time. However, it wasn’t working against the dead. Not only had they been smart enough to conceal the dead in the grass around me, they had made sure that they were all Sprinters. Almost as one, they began racing towards me with terrifying speed.

  “Fuck!” I snarled, and slid my sword back in the scabbard.

  Reaching into my cargo pocket, I grabbed the first thing I came into contact with. Pulling a road flare out, I ignited it as I ran. When it sputtered to life, I threw it through the shattered doorway into the museum at the bottom of the stairs. Then I grabbed the XVR and pulled it out of the holster. In the hellish light of the flare, I could see dozens of the Stalkers recoiling from the intense glow.

  “Where the fuck did they all come from?” I hissed, taking the stairs three at a time.

  It was too late to change plans now. I was committed to this course of action, for good or for ill. This was either going to work out as planned or fail in an utterly spectacular fashion. If I had to guess, I would say that it was going to fail.

  When I reached the interior of the underground museum, I cut to the left and headed for where I knew the entrance to the stairwell would be. The Stalkers were too busy averting their eyes from the sudden change in light to immediately key on which way I was going. The problem was that once that momentarily blindness was over; they were going to be hot on my heels. I didn’t have time to slow down.

  Snatching my flashlight off of my belt, I lit up the corridor ahead of me and began desperately searching for the right door. Behind me on the stairs, I could hear the rapid steps of the Sprinters as they pursued me and the much heavier thuds of Grimnir’s boots. In moments, I was going to have the full weight of them all down on my back. My luck was quickly running out.

  Up ahead, a door marked maintenance seemed to materialize out of the darkness. I knew it would be locked and I didn’t have time to slow down. Thumbing the hammer back on the XVR, I fired as I ran and completely destroyed the heavy locking mechanism. Yanking the door open, I jumped inside and pulled it shut behind me. Almost instantly, I heard pounding fists striking the door. The Sprinters weren’t smart enough to pull on the doorknob, but the Stalkers and Grimnir were. I needed options and fast.

  Scanning around, I saw only one possibility. Yanking the emergency fire hose off of its cradle, I wrapped it tightly around the door handle and then pulled it taught around the stair railing. It wasn’t going to slow them down for long, but it might be enough to buy me time to put some distance between us.

  Heading up the stairs, I could see daylight flooding in through the massive hole in the side of the Arch about fifty feet above me. Although that wouldn’t hinder the Sprinters, it would delay the Stalkers and that was more than enough to give me an edge. Now I just needed to capitalize on it. The problem was there was a fuck-load of stairs between me and the top of the Arch.

  I could hear the frenzied pounding of dead hands against the door change to the massive boom that could only be Grimnir slamming into it with tremendous force. I didn’t have time to look back, but I could imagine that the heavy door was already beginning to bend under the onslaught. I had to move faster if I was going to make it through this.

  As I reached the level where the structural damage was the worst, I could already see that the stairs were badly damaged. There was a thirty foot expanse where they were simply gone. My options were dwindling by the second and I could hear the screeching of metal as the door below me was beginning to give way. If I could find a way to get up to the next level, the Sprinters would not be able to follow. For all their speed, they still couldn’t climb.

  In desperation, I grabbed the nearest girder and started climbing. Just as I was reaching the lowermost stair, I heard the door give way below me. Pulling myself up the last few feet, I lay on my back on the landing with my chest heaving while I tried to catch my breath. My haste to get to the top was beginning to take a toll on me. I could only hope that the big gap in the stairs would buy me enough time to prepare to make my stand.

  I could hear the sound of numerous feet hitting the stairs below as the dead began their ascent. The gap should protect me from the Sprinters and the daylight flooding in should deter the Stalkers. I still couldn’t wrap my mind around the fact that there were so many of them when I knew that they should only have a few remaining. Unless they had figured out a way to make more of them, they should’ve been few in numbers by now.

  “Oh shit,” I muttered.

  If they had found a way to make more of them, we were going to be screwed. The thought of countless Stalkers was enough to turn my blood to ice water. Of all of the types of undead, they were the only ones who frightened me. Those things were just too damned smart and dangerous to have lurking around.

  Forcing myself to my feet, I continued on up the stairs. As more and more of the dead funneled into the stairwell, I could feel the Arch beginning to shake. All of that weight and movement was causing the entire superstructure to sway. To make matters worse, the girders in the opening below were beginning to groan. It was beginning to look like the entire thing might come crashing down with me inside it. That was just fucking great.

  “Grant!” bellowed Grimnir from far below me. “I am coming for you!”

  “Yeah,” I muttered, “I know.”

  Then I started to smell something different. The air that was stirring gently from below me because of the massive opening in the superstructure was bringing a new scent to me. When I realized what it was, I stopped dead in my tracks and closed my eye. Realization set in of what was going on below me. I smelled the unmistakable smell of smoke. From the amount of it that was already in the air, I knew what it was from too. My flare had set the museum on fire.

  There was an inferno beginning beneath my feet. It would spread to both ends of the Arch and now I had no way to get down. Long before I reached the top of the Arch, the entire museum would be engulfed in flames. My only consolation was that it would take scores of the dead with it. Soon it would begin licking up the inside of the Arch itself.

  “Fuck this,” I snarled. “I’m not burning to death. Let’s ride this bitch to Valhalla.”

  Pulling a grenade out of my cargo pocket, I tossed it over the railing and into the void. I heard it bounce off of girders and elevator cables, then felt the pressure wave a heartbeat before I heard the CRUMP of the explosion. Instantly, the groaning of the superstructure turned into the shrieking of metal as the entire Arch began to shake violently.

  “GRANT!” roared Grimnir. “YOU FOOL!”

  I decided right then that if I was going to plummet to my death; I wanted to at least watch it coming. Better to look death in the eye than to hide in the darkness waiting for it to come to me. Grabbing the railing, I began climbing as fast as I could go. The violent shaking of the massive steel monument was making the climb very difficult.

  Over the protesting steel, I could hear Grimnir pursuing me. Dogged to the last, he would rather kill me himself than let the Norns decide our fate. Well then, so be it. We would lock swords together at the top and see which killed us first, each other or the collapsing of the Arch.

  With a ragged lurch, the entire structure shifted to my left. Since the damaged portion of the Arch was on the landward side, I assumed that it would fall that direction. It appeared that the Norns had other plans. It was beginning to lean towards the Mississippi River. It seemed that my fate was tied to it. The Arch was well over six hundred feet tall. With the riverbanks swol
len from the flooded river, we would fall into that murky morass. For better or worse, we would live or die in those muddy waters.

  By the time I had reached the top, it was listing about twenty degrees off of center. The groaning of metal was audible at the top and beginning to spread to the rest of the structure. Soon plates and girders would begin to buckle and it would come crashing down with unparalleled force. Surviving that kind of collapse would be impossible. Assuming I survived the fall, I would be buried beneath tons of steel and submerged in the unforgiving waters of the Mississippi.

  Just as I was glancing out at the city, possibly for the last time, I felt the structure beneath my feet vibrating from the stress that was undoubtedly increasing throughout the entire Arch. With a tremendous cracking and tearing sound, a section of the observation deck broke open and fell away, crashing to the ground below. A section about thirty feet long had opened up, leaving almost two football fields of open air between me and the ground.

  The listing was increasing and I had to put my foot on the opposite wall to avoid falling. The windows on the side that faced the river were almost directly below me now, leaving me looking down at the ground and the river below. I could feel my stomach begin to lurch as vertigo did its best to get its icy grip on me. I couldn’t tear my eyes away from the window as my thoughts began to whirl in my head.

  “Grant!” I heard Grimnir call from much closer than I had expected.

  I looked up to see him entering the observation deck from the stairwell. He began to reach for his sword when it seemed to strike him that he didn’t have the room to swing it. The observation deck was far too cramped to swing such a massive blade. Unfortunately for me, it was too small for me to use mine, as well.

  With a growing smile on his face, Grimnir reached behind him and drew a wickedly curved blade from a sheath at the small of his back. One side was curved for slashing and the other was serrated for doing maximum damage by rending flesh. I suddenly had the fierce desire for it to not be my flesh.

  “I’m going to enjoy cutting your heart out,” he rumbled.

  As I stood there with the crumbling monument beneath my feet, a fire blazing below, scores of undead trying to reach us and this crazed jackass wanting to cut out my heart, I realized that I had no reason to continue to fight this asshole fairly. I mean, it’s not like he hasn’t cheated from the moment I arrived. Honor was not part of the equation anymore. Anger welled up in my core and venom poured through my veins as I felt the raging desire to finish this fuck-head off before the Arch took me down, as well.

  “Go back to Hel, asshole,” I snarled as I drew the big XVR.

  There were four rounds remaining in the cylinder, since I had used one to blow the lock on the door below. I brought the big pistol up and shot him twice in the chest before he fell over, blood pouring from the massive holes in his chest. I put the other two through his kneecaps, just to add to the defeat.

  “Now, you son-of-a-bitch,” I snarled. “You can lay there knowing I beat you.”

  Instead of the defeat I hoped to see in his eyes, he began to laugh.

  “Either way,” he said, his voice bubbling with the blood that was in his throat and lungs. “Either way, I win. We both will die here. You will join me in Hel.”

  Right at that particular moment, I wanted nothing in the world more than to disappoint this asshole. I wanted to reach over and choke the life out of him and deprive him of the satisfaction of watching me die with him. I briefly considered reloading and shooting him in the head when the structure lurched and listed farther to the side before snapping to a stop.

  Below me, throughout the superstructure, I could hear the groaning and shrieking of metal as the girders and plating tore itself apart. We were now listing at about a forty five degree angle and the large opening in the observation deck opened to the sky. In moments, the entire thing was going to plummet into the river below.

  Inspiration struck me and I shoved the big pistol back into its holster. I had a crazy idea that might not work, but it was better than just standing here waiting for death to come and take me away. It was risky, to be sure, but what other choice did I have? Whatever happened, I would go out fighting. I would not go quietly into the darkness of death.

  With a smirk and an extended middle finger at Grimnir, I took two running steps up what had been the floor and grabbed the edge of the opening. With grim determination, I began pulling myself up and onto the exterior of the Arch.

  “What in Hel’s name are you doing?” shouted Grimnir, almost whining.

  Ignoring him, I climbed out onto the metal surface and struggled to my feet. Although the Arch was listing heavily, I was able to get to my feet without too much trouble. If what I had in mind was going to work, I was going to have to time it perfectly. One mistake and I was a meat waffle. I was going to either succeed or fail spectacularly.

  “You can’t do this!” bellowed Grimnir.

  Below, I could see smoke billowing out of both ends of the Arch. It was thick, oily smoke that partially obscured the ground. I waited, with baited breath, for the structure to list far enough for me to make this work. Too early and I would fall off of the side, too late and I would ride it all the way to the ground. I could feel my heart thudding in my chest and time seemed to slow to a crawl.

  “Grant!” bellowed Grimnir.

  I was beyond caring what he said or did. My entire focus was on the shifting of the Arch. The groaning of the steel was becoming a hideous shriek that would rival the roar of any predator. With a shuddering lurch, it began to fall. Slowly at first, but I knew that gravity would speed it up the farther it leaned. Taking a deep breath I began the countdown.

  “One,” I shouted into the wind.

  “Grant!” screamed Grimnir, desperation creeping into his voice.

  The arch was at about forty two degrees.

  “Two!” I bellowed.

  “Grant!” the desperation was turning to panic.

  Forty degrees.

  “Three!” I screamed and began to run down the side of the Arch.

  “GRANT!”

  As the distance between us lengthened, so did the sound of his words. It was as if the entire structure was echoing his final scream.

  “GRANT!” it seemed to say as the once magnificent structure took its final decent to the water below.

  I was beyond that now. My entire focus was on gaining enough momentum to slide down the side of the Arch as it fell towards the ground. When I had gained enough speed I jumped feet first and landed on my butt. My momentum and the steep angle of the dying structure propelled me towards the ground with astounding speed.

  The earth seemed to be rushing up to meet me as the angle of the Arch grew closer to zero. As the structure fell, my slide for life grew closer to the ground with each passing second. Fortunately for me, I decelerated with the decrease of the angle. Although I was still travelling at a high rate of speed, I was slowing enough that I should survive the fall. Well, I should. It was a working theory, anyway. If I was wrong, then I wouldn’t be around for anyone to say “I told you so.”

  The structure below me snapped away about ten feet off of the ground and the rate of fall increased. Just as I reached the edge of the break, I jumped away from the dying Arch and leapt for the relative safety of the grassy ground. Again, time slowed to a crawl as I took in my surroundings.

  Below me, most of the dead had either followed me into the museum or were gathered around the far end of the Arch. The area below me was mercifully clear. Vigdis stood watching me fall with wide eyes and an open mouth. I doubt that even the Gods had seen anything like what I was trying to do. I was insane for trying, but impossible situations call for insane solutions. At least that’s how I look at it.

  As the ground was rushing up to meet me I brought my feet together and bent my knees to absorb the force of the impact, just as the instructor at jump school[19] had taught me all those years ago. I still hit hard without the benefit of a parachute to slow my
fall, but I rolled with it and came to a stop in the grass about forty feet from where I hit the ground.

  A quick mental inventory indicated that while lots of things hurt, nothing was broken. I got shakily to my feet and watched as the uppermost part of the Arch struck the Mississippi River with enormous force. It sent a wave of water splashing away from it in all directions and quickly vanished into the murky depths. The ground shook beneath my feet from the massive impact as nearly seventeen thousand tons of steel returned to the earth with unbridled fury.

  Despite the utter devastation, I was on the ground and I was alive. Even better, that asshole Grimnir was still inside and the once great St. Louis Arch was now his watery tomb. I blinked in disbelief as I stood in mute shock that not only had my plan worked, it had exceeded my expectations. The only remaining Hrimthurssar was Vigdis, so far as I knew.

  Turning towards her, I wasn’t sure if I should reach for my sword or start reloading my pistol. In the end, I waited to see what she would do first. I had no idea how this was going to end. Would she try to kill me? Would she just walk way? Would she summon the dead and swarm me in revenge for Grimnir? I didn’t know what to expect.

  “He was inside, wasn’t he?” she asked, her voice almost a whisper.

  Despite the nearly forty yards between us, I heard her clearly. There was sadness in her voice, but something else as well. To me, it almost seemed like relief. For a moment, she lowered her head and stared at the ground. At first, I thought she was either crying or praying. When she looked up, there was a strange look on her face. It was serene, yet frightening.

  She began walking towards me, a slow smile spreading across her lips. I stood immobile as she approached to within an arm’s reach of me. I was half expecting her to launch an attack at me, but when she reached out to gently touch my face it took me by surprise. I felt her finger tips trace the scars along my cheek and mouth.