The Viking Wants Forever

by Koko Brown

  Somehow sensing an about-face, Allen grabbed her upper arms and marched her backward toward the entrance. “Always thought you were too talented to be schlepping around here.” He unlocked the front doors for her. “Call me tomorrow. I want to hear all about your plans and how I’m going to play a part in them.” Considering she hadn’t thought past the present moment, Reese didn’t laugh at Allen’s joke.

  “Whoa...It’s raining cats and dogs out there,” he pointed out, oblivious to the tear his babble was causing to her insides. He let her go to pluck one of the umbrellas from a metal canister filled with them by the door. “What a great start to the next chapter of your new life.”

  “Just my luck,” she mumbled, frozen with fear of the unknown. Immobile, Reese stood on the threshold, looking out at the deluge just a couple of yards away. Despite the torrent, the rain did nothing to subdue the humidity.

  “’Life is like a rainbow. You need both the sun and rain to make its colors appear, as my grandpa Patrick McNeal from County Kildare used to say.” Allen stepped onto the sidewalk, and popped open the umbrella.

  Allen tended to spout nonsense than a comic book villain, but there was always a nugget in there somewhere. Back on track, with her spine intact, Reese joined him on the sidewalk. “Thank you for being the best sidekick a girl could wish for.”

  “Just call me Kato.” Gloating, Allen pulled at the ornamental black suspenders he’d worn with his jeans. He was just as much a hipster as he was a geek, from his tattoo sleeves to his black lumberjack beard to his haircut, high on the top, low on the sides.

  “Funny, I was thinking more along the lines of Jughead.”

  Allen’s lips twisted into a grin, exposing a neat row of metal braces. “I love me a juicy hamburger.”

  “Extra onions and ketchup, hold the pickles.”

  Allen held his fist out. “Dynamic Duo?”

  “Always.” Grinning, Reese rapped her knuckles against his.

  “Hey! Do I need to kill you off as well?” Otis yelled.

  Before she could say ‘SHAZAM!’ Allen scrambled back inside. “Unlike you, I don’t have any special talents, only sarcasm.” He reached over and hit the power switch. “Live long and prosper,” he said as the doors slowly closed. Reese returned his Spock salute. The moment was more than a little bittersweet. For the first time in seven years, someone else locked up behind her.

  Done with being the walking dead, Reese spun around, umbrella raised against the elements. She took only three steps when a strong gust of wind yanked it backward over its ribs —rendering it useless.

  “Life is like a rainbow,” Reese muttered as she tossed the umbrella into a nearby trash can. Without another to protect her, she popped the collar of her red windbreaker. What good it would do her, since the bus stop was five blocks away.

  Chapter Two

  “Good evening, ma’am.” Reese tried returning the bus driver’s warm greeting, but her teeth were chattering too badly, and she could barely feel her toes in her soggy Chuck Taylors. At least she wore her hair in corn rows or her natural hair would be a bird’s nest.

  “Sorry ’bout the two hour wait. The other bus broke down a mile from here. Oddest thing, since it’s a brand new bus.”

  “Yeah, the oddest thing...” She sniffed, swiping her fare card.

  The card reader flashed a zero balance. “Can this day get any worse?” she growled. Fuming, Reese fumbled through her bag and then her jeans. Only piecing together seventy-five cents, she looked at the driver imploringly.

  “Sorry ma’am. The fare’s a buck twenty-five, and rules are rules.”

  “I’ll pay the lady’s fare.” Riveted, Reese watched a tall, thin man with flaming red hair walk toward the front of the bus. Dressed in a green leather tunic, with matching tights and short leather boots, he was obviously one of those theme actors who worked for Renaissance Times Dinner and Jousting. She thought she’d settled, but those clowns had really settled.

  Giving him a weak smile, she wiped at the water running down her nose. “I really appreciate it. I usually have the correct fare.”

  He watched her as he deposited the coins. Feeling uneasy and strangely exposed under his pale green stare, she averted her gaze. “I’m sure,” he uttered, his accent thick and guttural.

  “If you give me your address, I can mail you the money back.” For some reason, Reese didn’t want to be indebted to him.

  He chuckled, causing the hairs on the back of Reese’s neck to bristle. “Your offer is unnecessary. Take this as an act of charity.”

  Mumbling her gratitude, Reese edged past him. She didn’t get very far when a surge of energy swept through her. Doubled over and gasping, Reese grabbed one of the metal seat bars to keep herself upright.

  “Are you okay, ma’am?”

  No, but she would live. Reese straightened and turned around. “I–I’m fine,” she assured the driver, meeting his gaze in the rearview mirror. “Just a little static shock I guess, from the rubber matting and that guy who paid my fare.”

  Reese stopped, taking note of the suddenly empty bus. “Where did the Robin Hood look-alike go?”

  “Robin who?” the driver asked. Short arms and all belly, he struggled with the wheel, pitching the bus around a corner and causing a tidal wave in its wake. Reese gripped the handle bar tighter, preventing another spill.

  “The guy who paid my fare.”

  The driver frowned and his triple chins pressed against his shirt, hiding the starched collar. “You’re my first passenger since switching buses.” He glanced up in the mirror, momentarily taking his eyes off the road. “Hard day at work?”

  When was it not a hard day at The Comic League? She busted her behind, clocking sixty hours a week. Head in the clouds or nose deep in a comic book, living more on fantasy and fiction than reality, her staff barely performed their jobs. So every day had been grueling. The only thing was working like a dog had never caused hallucinations, or the odd misgivings following her encounter with the Good Samaritan.

  Confused, Reese searched for a more logical reason, but came up as empty as the seats around her. Maybe the job and the resulting stress really were the cause. She remembered Allen’s third cousin Loretta becoming paralyzed from stress, and how it took her six months to re-learn how to walk. So if a person could lose the ability to walk, wouldn’t it be possible for her to suffer from hallucinations?

  Two hours later and the night’s events still bothering her, Reese unlocked the door to her one bedroom apartment a quarter till midnight. Leaving her wet shoes and socks piled outside her door, she threw her bag and jacket on the couch and then headed to the bathroom where she pulled off her damp clothes.

  Normally, Reese would’ve jumped in the shower. Not wanting to be near any more water, she opted out until morning. Instead, she threw on her night shirt, grabbed a towel off the rack and wrapped it around her still damp braids. For good measure, she turned up the thermostat.

  While turning back her bed, her cell phone rang. Reese glanced at the screen and opted to call Allen back in the morning. Once he discovered she didn’t have any future plans beyond stretching her savings, the resulting conversation would only leave her more depressed than she already was.

  With thoughts of the present plaguing her, Reese crawled into bed with the remote control. She wasn’t a fan of television, but she couldn’t sleep without the background noise. Dog tired, she was she out like a light before the late night talk show host could finish his opening monologue.

  * * * * *

  “Neeiggh!”

  Great! TV Land must have added old episodes of Mr. Ed to its late night lineup!

  Not a fan of the TV classic, Reese groped for the remote. Searching, her hand ran over the bed linen and she paused. Her down comforter felt like a scratchy wool blanket. Sitting up, her butt scraped against solid rock and not her mattress.

  “What in the heck!” Reese snatched back the poor excuse for a blanket and found hard-packed earth.

&nbs
p; Reese clutched the sides of her head. She was losing it! First the Robin Hood look-alike and now this! As she pulled herself slowly from the ledge, Reese suddenly felt a warm puff of air graze her right cheek. Too frightened to move, she sent up several Hail Marys.

  “Neeiggh!”

  With a cry of fear, Reese scuttled back on her hands and knees until she slammed into hard rock. Struggling to breathe, senses sharpened, she picked up the faint scent of hay and the muffled howl of wind.

  Curious and refusing to die sitting down, Reese slowly stood. She inched her way around the space of what she now realized had to be a cave until the wall gave way to a bundle of packed sticks and a leather-draped opening. Hoping for a means of escape, she threw the covering aside.

  “Dorothy...we haven’t landed in Oz...it’s landed on us,” she whispered, more than a little startled by the sight of frozen tundra and snowcapped mountains. A far cry from Cocoa Beach’s warm weather and flat terrain.

  Transfixed, Reese stood there while the wind whipped around her, stinging her ears and tugging at the hem of her cape. Greasy and worn, the leather material slapped at her calves.

  What happened to the Sailor Moon T-shirt she’d worn to bed? Shaking from more than just the frigid climate, Reese glanced down. Her oversize T-shirt had been replaced with a floor-length muddy-colored woolen tunic and leather slippers.

  “I’ve been kidnapped and dumped into a Renaissance fair nightmare.” Remembering the guy on the bus, she stumbled backward. Did he have something to do with this? Tripping over her own two feet as she grabbed for the curtain, she ripped it from its moorings. The predawn sun stole past her. Its fingers crept over the cave’s walls, illuminating it, as well as a travel pack resting near a cold fire pit and the culprit who’d scared her shitless: a blue-black gelding chomping away on a pile of hay in the back corner.

  “This can’t be real.” To test her conclusion, Reese grabbed a healthy portion of her forearm and twisted until the brown skin turned red.

  “Fug!” In spite of the pain, she didn’t wake up. Hit by a different conclusion, Reese yelled out, “Allen...Melanie...Otis...you guys can come out now. The jig is up.”

  Her assumption wasn’t too far-fetched, since all of them were cosplay aficionados and they’d recently turned the store’s mammoth warehouse into Hogsmeade for their annual customer appreciation weekend. Their efforts had garnered regional TV coverage, widespread admiration from the comic community.

  Even as she held her breath and waited, deep down Reese knew no one would emerge, calling her bluff. The cave walls were granite rock, not spray-painted papier-mâché and cardboard. Disgruntled and uncertain of what to do next, Reese walked over to the fire pit. She picked up the sack and rifled through its contents. She found nothing familiar or of use except a week’s worth of rations. Disgruntled, she slung the bag aside and plopped down on the cold ground.

  “REESE!” Reese scrambled to her feet as the ground began to quake and several rocks dislodged from the roof of the cave.

  “REESE!” the voice bellowed again.

  “W-w-who’s there?”

  “Don’t you know who I am?” The voice snickered.

  “If I did, I wouldn’t have to ask —”

  “Watch your tone with me, mortal.”

  Reese grabbed onto the wall as the floor rocked underneath her.

  “Okay! Who are you?”

  “It’s me...Loki.”

  “If this is you, Otis, you are so dead! You’re lucky I’m no longer your supervisor or I’d cram a pink slip down your throat!”

  “I have no idea who an Otis is and you’re not putting anything in my mouth. Have a care in how you address me, woman. I am Loki, a god among mortals, blood brother to Thor, and the one who you so stupidly insulted over a silly game of dice.” As he spoke, his voice grew in volume, rising to such an unbearable level, Reese clamped her hands over her ears.

  Its official, I’m certifiably insane. She believed she’d been transported far from home, and now she was carrying on a conversation with a mythical Norse demigod.

  “You’re here because I brought you here,” the voice sneered, pulling her from the ledge.

  “You brought me here because of a minor insult.” Reese’s sense of bravado died when the earth suddenly pitched under her feet. Unable to maintain her footing, she fell to her knees.

  “I’ve punished mortals for lesser transgressions,” he raged. “I’m the mighty Loki!”

  Mortal or immortal, men were all the same. They were vain and self-righteous and wanted to be worshipped. Blood boiling, Reese couldn’t resist cracking a shot. “If you are Loki...I know you weren’t always mighty for you were not born with your powers, instead you stole them from Odin through trickery.”

  The earth stilled, and a soft chuckle broke the silence. “Ah, so you do have a spoonful of intelligence inside that wee woman’s head of yours. Hopefully, it will serve you well on your journey.”

  “Journey? What kind of journey? I’m not going anywhere, buddy! I’m going home...as soon as I find out how.” She glanced at the entrance of the cave and groaned. She doubted she’d find Cocoa Beach on the other side of those mountains.

  “As you can see this journey is your only chance home.”

  As the god of fraud and mischief, Loki had always taken a keen interest in the goings-on of mortals. They provided a pleasant diversion from the doldrums of instigating mayhem in Asgard. With an ear open to their antics, they naivety fascinated him. And yet there were times, when he wanted to slap them silly, put them in their place. And this woman’s mouth had gotten herself into bigger trouble than she could possibly fathom! The ignorant wench had maligned his good name!

  Didn’t she know his clever games of intrigue helped Thor regain Mjollnir, his mighty hammer?

  And if it wasn’t for him, all the gods in Asgard would have lost their beauty and youth.

  “So will you sit here and mope, or will you play the game?”

  The woman looked heavenward and Loki was struck by her natural beauty. The gods blessed her with smooth brown skin that poured over a heart-shaped face punctuated with delicate features. A multitude of intricate braids hung down her back. Her black eyes were dark as midnight and her full lips tempted him to take human form.

  “Do I have a choice?” she asked, setting him back on course.

  “Not if you want to return home.”

  While she silently weighed her non-existent options, Loki waited patiently. He’d spent centuries chained to a rock by that bitch Skaði. Waiting this mortal out was like a walk in Valhalla.

  “All right, I’m in.”

  Loki smiled. Humans were as easy to manipulate as the gods. Thirsty for revenge, he opened his hand, and a piece of rolled leather floated down to fall at the woman’s feet. When she bent over, he admired her rounded hips and plump ass.

  “Inside, you’ll find an ancient map of what is now called Norway. Due east is the mouth of the Sognefjord. There you will find Bjarni Torkensson, recently returned from an expedition to the East with a small contingent of mercenaries. Bjarni is the childhood friend of a warlord named Eirik Sigurdsson or ‘Eirik the Fair.’

  “Eirik is in possession of a magnificent stone. I believe you Westerners call it a tourmaline, the rainbow gem. Your mission is to divest him of it.”

  Obviously baffled by her mission, the wench frowned. “So, let me get this straight. You’ve brought me here,” with each syllable, her voice grew strident with anger, “so I can traipse all over the wilds of Scandinavia for a cheap birthstone?”

  Trying his best to ignore the woman’s barb, Loki continued, “Despite your apparent disdain, Eirik has elicited the stone’s inner beauty, turning it from a discolored lump into a beautiful gemstone he’s set in gold and wears around his ne—”

  “One problem,” she interjected. “How am I going to remove something he wears around his neck? It’s going to be extremely difficult to enter his household, considering no one with my dark complexio
n lives in this part of the world.”

  “Covered. Bjarni recently purchased several slaves from the far East darker than even yourself.”

  “Okay, if by some stroke of luck I do get inside, how am I going to get close enough to a Viking warlord to get a necklace? Hey! Wait a minute! Why do you want this thing anyway?”

  If she wasn’t so physically appealing with her dark skin, fathomless eyes tipped up like a cat, and thick braids grazing the top of her breasts, he would have smote her for her insolence, but he didn’t... He needed her.

  Swallowing his pride, he answered. “Like you, Eirik insulted me. He did not properly thank

  me for delivering the tourmaline into his hands. If it weren’t for my help, he would have simply passed the village nestled in the Sandstone Mountains as he and his men made their way back to their boats nestled on the shores of the Elbe. I enticed him to take a closer look,” Loki chuckled as he remembered how he’d taken the form of a voluptuous redhead.

  “While he and his men plundered both the village and their women, he discovered

  the gem and the nearby mine. Instead of sending up alms to the one who made him richer than his wildest dreams, the fool paid homage to Thor!” he sneered. “Blood brother or not, the dolt spends his days in Valhalla doing nothing but trying to rut with the Valkyries. One of these days, one of those vicious harpies is going to lop off his cock and serve it to him for his morning repast!”

  While he raged, the woman started to pace the length of the cave. When she stopped, a frown creased the corners of her mouth, drawing his attention to her full lips.

  “Why don’t you get it yourself? You are mighty Loki, after all.”

  “Do you think I would have if I could? But, I cannot. Odin has stipulated the gem can only be obtained through a third party and freely given.”

  “Just my luck,” he heard her mutter under her breath. “So...the only way I can get this necklace and return home is if Eirik gives it to me?”