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Having lost Hoor a few minutes ago, Sorensen set his human burden down, scouted the immediate area, and then collapsed. Maddock did what he could to help the man sit up, positioning him against a large, square metal container. They’d moved chaotically through a series of platforms and ramps, doing what they could to lose their pursuer. Feeling safe, Maddock took a moment inside what looked to be a storage warehouse of some kind.
And it was huge.
Indy, eat your heart out, he thought, checking to make sure they were alone. Once he confirmed that they were, he turned his attention to Sorensen.
The man looked terrible. He was missing his right eye, much like Odin, who according to Norse myth, sacrificed his eye in order to gain more knowledge of the world beyond. Sorensen, however, had given his eye to protect him and the others.
“Thank you,” Maddock said softly.
Sorensen just sat there breathing hard, covered in blood. The fact he was still alive gave even more credence to the berserker legend. They truly were unbeatable in war. But if that was true, then Hoor was too.
“Is there a way to stop Hoor?” Maddock asked, hopeful.
“Yes,” Sorensen replied, grunting out the word.
“How?”
Opening his good eye, Sorensen looked up at Maddock. “Weapons like Gungnir have such power.”
“There are more of them?” he asked, a feeling of dread washing over him.
“No, not like Gungnir,” he replied, his Norwegian accent as strong as ever, “but, yes, there are others. They’re each unique in design, built for a purpose.”
Maddock about to ask for more information, but it occurred to him that Sorensen’s speech had improved. “You’re speaking well.”
Sorensen nodded. “After my last change, I felt something inside ease. My mind and body are becoming one, accepting one another. I’ve also acquired an understanding of what I am now.”
“You’re in control?”
He nodded. “Some, yes, but the fury inside is still there. It’s what drives me now. It keeps me vigilant.”
“You said you have an ‘understanding.’” Maddock reached his hand up and tapped what appeared to be a label on the container at Sorensen’s back. “These are Norse runes.”
Sorensen nodded. “In a way. It is this civilization’s language—Fairhair’s and those who came before him. I can read everything here. It’s a more complicated version of what I’m used to, but still legible if I take it slow. I’ve learned much in only the short time I’ve been here. Between the journal and this place, I’ve gotten a good, hard look into their history... And their cold-hearted methods.”
“So,” Maddock said, realizing why they were really there, “you came to this storage warehouse on purpose. You know what’s kept here.”
Grunting, Sorensen stood and leaned against the large metal crate. “I found a map of the entire facility. This,” he motioned to the space around them, “is mostly armaments.”
Maddock softly whistled in amazement, slowly turning and taking in the massive room. “A weapons depot?”
“Yes, among other things.”
“And you know what’s needed to kill Hoor?”
He nodded, wincing as he involuntarily blinked his ruined eye. “Yes, it’s the reason they couldn’t be killed in battle. No human possessed a powerful enough weapon. They were hidden down here for the use of Odin’s future army—”
“An army he never got to use.”
“Exactly,” he said, impressed with Maddock’s quick understanding. “The technology that gives them their power also has the ability to take their lives.”
“The alien metal.”
“Yes, it’s what they constructed their weapons out of, and if we can find the correct container, we can find the rest of the berserker army’s arsenal. It’s the only chance we have to end this.” He went to step away from Maddock but stopped. “Both Hoor and myself...”
The finality in his statement hit Maddock hard. Sorensen wanted to die when it was all said and done. Unlike Hoor, he had no aspirations of becoming a god. His life had ended when he tried taking the spear.
But it didn’t, Maddock thought, and now he’s living with the nightmarish consequences.
“What about one of these?” Maddock asked, drawing his large handgun. “They didn’t have this kind of firepower back then.”
“It could work, but I’d like to be prepared if it doesn’t.”
Maddock understood that for sure. Over-preparedness always trumped the other option. Always.
Something still bothered Maddock. If Sorensen was in control and so was Hoor, what was the difference in their physical changes. Sorensen looked the same as before. He’d yet to shrink down—if it was even possible anymore. But Hoor, he...
“Tell me about Hoor’s new form. Do you know why it happened?”
Sorensen stopped and faced Maddock, his permanently sour expression expanding more. “As much as I can figure, while I reject and fight what is happening to me... What has happened to me... He accepts it and embraces it, driving it deeper down within. Plus, his familial relationship to Fairhair.”
“Regardless of if he’s Fairhair’s descendant or not, it doesn’t surprise me,” Maddock added, looking around. “He was obsessed before he changed. I’d imagine he’s so far gone that there’s nothing human left within him. He honestly thinks himself to be a god now. The ecstasy he felt when grasping the spear must’ve been indescribable.”
“What about you?” Maddock asked. “How did you send an email after you first changed?”
“I...” he replied, thinking. “I don’t remember a lot of what happened initially. When I first grasped the spear, I changed into a beast. But when I calmed, I mostly reverted back to my original form—yet I retained some of my newfound abilities.” He stretched his shoulders, cringing as he did. “I tried to warn someone but was too scared to face anyone. After I sent it, I traveled as fast as I could back to the tomb.”
Maddock gave him a minute to relax his thoughts. He didn’t want to push it but time was short and Sorensen’s intel was crucial. He ran his hand over the smooth surface of a nearby container. “Tell me about the other berserker weapons.”
“Not much to say,” Sorensen replied, still searching. They stayed in the center aisle, never venturing down any of the storehouse’s other rows. “From what the research in the journal stated, they were ordinary in design but otherworldly in terms of ability. There are axes and swords and shields—”
“Any of them have effects like Gungnir?”
“Power? Yes. They have the might of many men within them, but only Gungnir, as it seems, has the ability to mutate another living being—human, or otherwise.”
Maddock was relieved. The last thing they needed was another weapon like Odin’s spear. It was constructed to build an army and start a war. The others were designed to be tools of that war.
“Over here...”
Maddock turned and found Sorensen standing off to the left staring at a wall. His mouth was slowly and silently opening and closing, speaking to himself. He was carefully translating a label filled with more of the space-aged Norse runes. Not voicing his question as to why Sorensen was trying to read a wall, Maddock instead made his way over to him, stopping when he saw it. The wall wasn’t a wall at all, it was a container.
And it was huge.
“Whoa...” He craned his head up, having to bend backward at the waist to see it in its entirety. The thing had to have been eighty feet wide by another forty tall. “Is that—”
“Yes,” Sorensen replied, exhaling hard. He reached out a hand. “Step back.”
Maddock did and, just like he’d done with Gungnir, he watched as Sorensen placed his hand on a seemingly random spot. But as soon as he made contact with it, it began to glow blue. Then, a grid network similar to what they’d seen at the hangar door appeared and spread across its surface.
Maddock realized that Sorensen’s berserker DNA allowed him access to the otherwise forbidden area, controlling the mechanics within. All that was needed was a gentle touch.
The room shook slightly as the container’s doors opened, retracting away from one another in sections. Stepping forward, Maddock pulled out his small flashlight but there was no need for it. A similar blue light illuminated the container’s interior from above, casting the space in an eerie, ghostly aura.
“Okay then,” he murmured as he beheld the contents.
Eight rows of shelves, ten feet apart from their neighbors came into view. Each held a variety of weapons, all perfectly stacked or racked depending on their construction and size, perfectly inventoried in their proper spot. On his right were large double-sided axes, very Viking in appearance. Probably where the tribes of the region got their influences from as well. It wasn’t just their culture or belief system, they also styled their warring tactics and equipment after them.
Except these are hundreds of years old, maybe older.
Maddock headed for the middle aisle, finding it well-organized and dust free. The containers were airtight apparently, preserving their contents like they were just manufactured.
Curious, Maddock headed deeper into the storage unit. A secondary space lay beyond the rear of the shelving units, but held only a single object, a single six-foot-long container that looked almost like a sarcophagus.
But why...?
Maddock placed both hands on it, finding grooves in which to lift. He did, bending with his knees, driving the amazingly-modern, hydraulic lid up. A pressurized hiss answered as a seal was broken. It was followed immediately by a cloud of cold air, giving him another set of goosebumps as it kissed his skin.
Maddock was speechless. Inside lay a massive broadsword, five feet in length from pommel to tip. Its blade was what caught Maddock’s attention, though. Not only was it made of the same black alien metal, but it seemed as if...
“It’s moving,” Maddock whispered.
He watched it as the blade’s surface rolled and moved like it was partially liquid. He went to pick it up but paused and looked back at Sorensen. The berserker nodded his encouragement, wide-eyed. Breathing deep, Maddock gripped its hilt and stopped, feeling something odd. It wasn’t pain or any other discomfort—nothing like Gungnir at all.
It was power.
Lifting it, he was blown away by how light it was. There was no way a sword of that size should’ve weighed so little.
“Skofnung...” Sorensen said with a far-off look, reading the engraving on the case. “It is the legendary sword of King Hrolf Kraki. Stories boast of its supernatural strength. Its other qualities are also quite fitting considering where we are.”
“And what’s that exactly?”
“Skofnung was said to be imbued with the souls of the great king’s bodyguards. It was said that death couldn’t deny its might.”
“Bodyguards?” Maddock asked.
“Berserker bodyguards.”
Shrugging, Maddock found the blade’s scabbard and secured it around his back. With a .50 cal on his thigh and a haunted sword on his back, he was beginning to feel confident in what lay ahead. He would combine a weapon from Norse mythology with that of modern technology. At least one of them had to do the job.
Satisfied, they headed back to the front of the container, glancing back and forth between each row. Stopping at the collection of double-bladed axes, Maddock pulled two of them free and tossed them to Sorensen. They were huge, perfect for someone of Sorensen’s size, but like Skofnung, they were easy to handle. The larger man caught them, spinning each like a twirler does batons. As each axe rotated, it sparked to life, igniting in a shower of crackling blue energy.
The big guy smiled and stood tall, ready.
Next was a collection of spears, each resembling Gungnir. Reaching out tentatively, Maddock calmed himself, expecting a taste of the same seductive berserker power, but felt nothing at all like that.
It was quite the opposite actually. The other berserker spear seemed to give him an extra boost—an oomph he desperately needed. He felt more and more refreshed with every second he held it.
It was another ability, one he could use too.
Thank God. The last thing he needed was another weapon trying to rip his soul apart. But is that a good thing?
He knew the consequences of relying on an object of such power. Like a pistol, these weapons gave their user a false sense of strength and security. Once done with a battle, a warrior would just go back to being a person, nothing more. It was the same with soldiers. While highly skilled on their own, they were still only as good as their tech in some cases.
Unless you properly honed those abilities when unarmed.
He and Bones could do plenty with their bare hands, using whatever they happened to have in front of them as a weapon, like in Henrik jr.’s store.
Henrik, dammit...
But in a war against a monster like Hoor, having alien tech on your side certainly couldn’t hurt. Getting an idea, Maddock added Gungnir into the cluster of horizontally stowed spears. As soon as it was locked in place, even he couldn’t tell the difference.
“Do you think Hoor will find it?” Sorensen asked as they left, stepping out and sealing the weapons vault with another touch of the metal.
Maddock looked up at him. “If you believed yourself a god, would you even go looking for it? He may need it down the road, but I doubt he’d go searching for it until we’re all dead.”
“Let’s hope you’re right.”