Ragnarok Rising: The Crossing (The Ragnarok Rising Saga) (45 page)

Randall seemed like a straight shooter. As much as I had disliked Rosewood and Armstrong, they must have been worse than I even knew to make these two want to leave the shelter of the jail behind. Whatever their reasons, I still had the nagging feeling that I needed to watch my back. Maybe I could trust them and maybe I couldn’t. One thing was for certain, though. If they intended to betray me, then they would soon know right where our base was. Maybe going straight back to the others might not be the best idea.

Leaning my head back against the cold concrete wall, I closed my eyes. I allowed myself to relax but kept my senses alert for any signs of danger. I felt the aches in my muscles begin to ease as my body slowly relaxed. I slowly began to drift off to sleep. Like it was in slow motion, I felt my chin hit my chest. I felt like I was falling into darkness. Then the dreams began.

********************

It started with both myself and Bjorgolf standing on the shore of an unfamiliar land. There was a dense wall of vegetation ahead of us. From the heat and the humidity, I knew this had to be a jungle. Strange animal cries could be heard coming from every direction. Behind us, our long ship stood at anchor in a small harbor. I smelled the rotten plant smell of the jungle and felt the sweat rolling down my back beneath my armor. This place was nothing like our home. It was as if we had sailed into another world.

"It's as hot as Muspell's
[23]
flames," observed Bjorgolf, sneering.

He glanced around in distaste and placed his hand on the end of his sword. I could tell that this place made him uncomfortable, and not just because of the heat. I felt it too. There was an ominous danger in the air.
Both of us were battle-tested and feared neither man nor beast, but there was something wrong with this place. It was as if the very air fought against each breath you took. It was an accursed land.

"Let's finish this task and get out of here," mumbled Bjorgolf
, then spat into the sand.

I merely nodded and motioned for the others to bring the sarcophagus ashore. The sooner we buried it, the sooner we coul
d return to the sea and then home. Bjorgolf and I watched the tree line while we waited for the others to come ashore. Neither of us spoke, but we both felt the watchful gaze of
something
upon us. There was something hiding in the darkness of the trees. It was a deep gloom that the bright sunlight could not penetrate.

The harder I peered into the darkness, the less it seemed I could see beyond the edge. Bjorgolf was wrong. This wasn't Muspelheim. The darkness and the dank smell meant only one thing. We stood on the border of Svartalfheim
[24]
. This was a place out of our nightmares. Even the Gods, themselves, seldom traveled into Svartalfheim. I felt a strange feeling stirring in my veins. It was something that I wasn't accustomed to feeling. It was fear.

Once the others made it ashore with our dreaded burden, we lifted
it into the back of a small wagon. Hooking one of our horses to the wagon, we glanced towards the direction of the setting sun. We knew our path took us to the west, deep into this darkened jungle. Only the four of us would be going. Hjalmar, Bjorgolf, Skeld and myself would see this through to the end.

There were others that would wait behind with the ship. They were merely crew. The four of us had been chosen for this task. To us would be the glory. Live or die, we would finish this. I knew not whether the skein of my life ended in this Gods forsaken place o
r if I would live to fight on. Only the Norns
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knew for sure.

"It is time to meet death," said Skeld. "Before our places are taken."

Hjalmar turned to the men who would be taking the landing boats back to the ship. I hoped that our faces did not show the fear that was plain on the faces of the men who were eager to return to the ship.

"Wait for us until the rising of the moon," said Hjalmar. "If we have not returned by then, follow the northern star and make for home."

The men nodded and began to shove the boats back into the water. We watched them go, with more than a hint of jealousy. Hjalmar brought us out of our thoughts by unrolling a long cloak made of reindeer hide. Wrapped inside it were weapons and gear.

"Cho
ose your weapons," he snapped. "Arm yourselves, for we travel on Hel's road tonight."

I selected a broad bladed sword with the hilt carved like the head of a raven. I knew this weapon. It had once belonged to one of the warriors who fell on the dock that night so long ago, when we faced the dead and held the line. It belonged to a warrior named Brand. He was a brave man and he died well. When he turned, he took Folkmar down before we stopped him. They were both brave men. It would have been good to have them with us, now. I would try to honor Brand's bravery by wielding this sword.

"Wygliff," called Hjalmar.

I turned to see what he wanted, surprised that he would call my name.

"I want you to take one of the bows," he said, nodding. "You have a keener eye than the rest of us."

I shrugged and picked up two quivers of arrows and a good bow.
I swung the sword across my shoulder and kept the bow in hand. With my hammers in my belt, I felt well armed to take on almost any foe. The others grabbed weapons and handed out water bags. As soon as we had our gear on, we turned to head into the jungle. Not far to the south, a great flock of colorful jungle birds took to the sky shrieking and flapping as they made their way deeper inland. That was not a good sign.

"Keep your heads," instructed Hjalmar. "We aren't alone."

Bjorgolf and Skeld had to walk ahead of the wagon and hack a clear path into the dense undergrowth with their swords. Once inside the jungle, the darkness enveloped us. The air grew heavier and the smell of rotten vegetation was almost overpowering. We were moving painfully slow and the sweat ran in rivers down my face and into my beard.

After what felt like
hours, we found a game trail that led deeper into the jungle. Only once the sun began to set, did we realize that the darkness could get deeper. Despite the darkness, we could feel the eyes of things that we could not see. They were watching us. Waiting for something, we weren't quite sure what. They followed us as we traveled, keeping their distance so we could not see them.

The next
morning, as we rose to travel, I found a track in the mud that had not been there before. It looked to be human, but it was bare. Not a boot print, but a naked foot. It was also smaller than I expected. Either it was a child or…

"Dark elves," muttered Bjorgolf, gesturing at the print. "They follow us in the
gloom."

"Why do they not attack?" I asked, kneeling to look at the print more closely.

"Who knows," replied Bjorgolf. "Maybe they fear us. Or, maybe they wait until they have the upper hand."

"Or maybe they wait for us to let our guard down," added Skeld, glancing around nervously.

"They wait," said Hjalmar, confidently, "because they don't know who we are. They watch us, learning about us as we go. Once they are ready, they will come."

My fingers drifted to the Thor's hammer that hung around my neck as my eyes darted around suspiciously.

"Tonight," said Hjalmar, "tomorrow, or maybe the next day. They will come."

We all watched around us warily as we traveled that day. The ground began to slope downward and the air felt somewhat cooler. Over the droning of both insects and creatures that we could not see, there began to come a sound. A low roar that grew as we traveled. Soon, the horse began to perk up its ears and toss its mane about. Then I smelled it, too.

"Water!" I exclaimed. "I hear water!"

This lifted our spirits as we pushed on harder, trying to find the source of the noise. We didn't have to wait long. We emerged onto the shore of a river that was fed by a great waterfall. The waterfall cascaded down from the black rocks above us, falling a hundred feet into a deep pool before winding its way off into the jungle.

I started to break from my place and head for the edge of the water when Hjalmar put up his hand to stop me. I froze in place, not sure what to expect. I looked to Hjalmar, only to find his eyes fixed on a point near the falls. I turned to see what had him frozen in place. There was a rough path that wound along the cliff and disappeared behind the falls. Perched on top of a large boulder were two ravens, pecking at the rock and cawing softly to each other.

"We are here," stated Hjalmar. "This is the place where the thing will come to its final rest."

"Where?" asked Skeld.

"In the cave behind the falls," explained Hjalmar. "The Gods have led us to the chosen place."

We wasted no time in getting the sarcophagus unloaded and made our way behind the falls. There was a deep grotto behind the water, that ended about twenty feet back. It was dark volcanic rock and rich soil. We lit torches and checked the cave for other exits. There were none. We did find the remains of a fire and the bones of numerous small animals. Something or someone had used this place for shelter.

Placing the sarcophagus in the center of the cave, we set about knocking the rocks loose. We broke free enough of the entrance that one good blow would bring it down. When we stepped out from behind the falls, there were people everywhere, waiting for us. They were smaller than us and dark skinned, with dark hair and eyes. There had to be over a hundred of them.

Hjalmar turned and smashed his hammer into the rock entrance to the cave. With a roar, the entrance collapsed sealing away the horror that the sarcophagus contained. With tons of rock filling the cavern, we prayed that it was banished forever. All that was left now was the people that surrounded our only escape path.

"It is done," said Hjalmar. "Live or die, our task is complete."

The men who stood before us wore no shoes or armor, with only a crude loincloth as a garment. They were armed with spears made from sharpened stones tied to sticks. I didn't see a single weapon made of metal amongst them. The only sign of metal was the necklace that the one who appeared to be the leader was wearing. From the way it shined, it could only be gold.

"Those aren't dark elves," said Skeld, pointing.

"
Skrealings
," snarled Bjorgolf, as if the word itself was distasteful to say.

"
Grimmr Bardagi," I said, drawing my bow.

"Wylie," whispered a voice as I felt myself being shaken gently.

********************

I opened my eyes to find Copeland leaning over me.

"Are you alright?" she asked, concerned.

"I'm fine," I said, shaking the dream from my mind.
"Why?"

"You were mumbling in your sleep," she said, frowning. "What does 'Grimmer bardoggie' mean?"

"Grimmr Bardagi," I corrected. "It means fierce battle. It's an ancient Norse term."

It struck me that I wasn't quite sure how I knew that. I didn't have time to ponder it for long.

"I heard a noise," she said, pointing to the front of the store.

Instantly, the thoughts of the dream vanished from my mind.
I glanced around and noticed that Randall wasn't in his spot. The door was still secured, but he wasn't in the storeroom.

"What kind of noise?" I asked, trying not to sound worried.

"Like something hit the door," she explained. "It was just a few moments ago. I woke up and thought I'd better tell you."

"I'll check it out," I assured her. "Where's Randall?"

"I don't know," she said. "He wasn't there when I woke up."

"Wait here," I said. "I'll be right back."

I drew my PMR-30 and checked the chamber. Certain that it was ready to shoot, I headed for the door that led into the front of the store. Crouching low, I listened for any sound of movement. Just as I was about to move into the store, I heard the sound of flesh hitting glass. The dead were at the front door. There also appeared to be some kind of intermittent light coming from that direction.

"Aw, fuck," I whispered, and slipped into the store.

Crouching low, I duck-walked to the end of the aisle and peeked around the corner. There at the door was at least a dozen zombies slapping their hands against the glass, trying to force their way inside. Sitting on the floor in front of the door was a small emergency strobe light. The amber light flashed in a slow rhythm and kept the zombies focused on it.

It had an LED light and would run for hours on the battery it contained. I knew for a fact that it wasn't there when I locked the doors. That meant that someone inside had placed it there deliberately. Someone had attracted the zombies to us with the light. I knew it wasn't me, so it had to be either Randall or Copeland. I closed my eyes and took in a slow, steadying breath. It wouldn't do any good to go back to them
in a rage. I'd end up shooting them both.

I had no choice but to leave the light where it was. I couldn't possibly get to the light and turn it off without being seen. So far, the light had only made them curious. Seeing me would set them off on a frenzy to attack. It would also cause any
Shrieker
that was there to start it's wail. That would only attract even more of them to us. That was the last thing we needed right now.