The Twilight of the Gods
@POTUS_47
3.34am
Oh boy! Crazy weather! But fear not, great nation! Fortitude and Faith! I’ve invited some allies to help protect our assets in this period of difficulty. DO NOT BE ALARMED! They may be ugly bastards, but the friendship I have with them is the highest level of special!
3.35am
I share some common ancestry with them on my mother’s side.
3.37am
Nordic, of course. HA! HA! HA!
3.39am
I once was entertained by a really hot Scandinavian chick in one of my hotels over there, in Norland. Boy! She was an 11! She could piss ice-cubes! Never had bourbon on the rocks like that before! I hope we aint distant cousins!
Chapter 9: The Twilight of the Gods
‘That went well…’ Eddy eased his battered, aching body from his stolen bike.
Dash and Blitzen were in an even worse state than him – black eyes and bloodied noses, but they grinned maniacally. ‘Can’t beat a good scrap!’ said Dash through swollen lips. ‘Let’s go and get wrecked!’ suggested Blitzen, spitting out a loose tooth.
Hobbling and helping each other, the three of them made their way to the bar – laughing and wincing in equal measure.
Around them the Wild Hunt was buzzing with post dust-up adrenalin. Wounds were being proudly shared and discussed, bikes were being checked, weaponry readied. It chilled Eddy to see the handguns, even the odd semi-automatic. Jeezus! Things were getting serious! He should have expected it, joining a serious biker gang. It was never going to be a peace picnic. But he didn’t expect to see so much armoury this side of the pond.
As they got their beers and sank down onto the bench, they clinked bottles and, between careful appreciative sips of the chilled brew, discussed what was going to happen next.
‘An open attack between gang members will inevitably lead to all out war,’ declared Blitzen, taking a tug.
Dash nodded. ‘The fragile truce of the Gathering had been broken. Things are going to turn real nasty.’
The gleeful tone in his voice made Eddy think he was looking forward to it. If it was anything like the bikers wars back home, it wasn’t going to be any kind of glorious war movie. He remembered with a shudder the stories he’d heard from eye witnesses, victims, and survivors about the Quebec Biker War.
‘But …’ Eddy tried to find the right phrase. ‘Our president was warning us to do the opposite – to work together to survive the greater threat…’
‘Oh, I loved all that Ragnarok shit, man!’ said Dash, eyes shining from behind the bruises.
‘If it’s the end of the world, then we need to look after our own,’ commented Blitzen, finishing the dregs of his beer. ‘Talking of which, I believe it’s your round, Red. You probably owe us several after what we went through back there to save your half-breed ass!’
Eddy raised his hands. ‘My bad. I better get some shots in then.’
Dash and Blitzen cheered, high-fived each other and regretted it. ‘Ow, my fingers!’ ‘I think I’ve broken my wrist!’
As Eddy waited by the bar, looking over the high-spirited revelry, he couldn’t help shake off the feeling he was on the deck of the Titanic.
The sky was an abattoir over the milky, limpid waters of the bay. Eddy sat on the groyne, thoughtfully watching the dying light. He sucked in the bracing, acrid air and tried to clear his head. The sea was at low tide, and the waves expired upon the sands with little energy, exhausted after their long journey.
He felt the same.
Perhaps it was just the inevitable come down after such an adrenalin high – the buzz of a biker rumble. But maybe it was more.
He sighed and it sounded like the last gasps of the waves.
‘Hey, how’s it going there, troublemaker?’
Eddy turned to see Fenja, and his heart lifted. Here at least was one – very good – reason to be here, to stay.
She slipped her arm into his and they watched the blood-milk waters together.
‘I’ll live. The way everyone jumped in, back there… I’ve never had anyone cover my back before.’
‘Welcome to the Wild Hunt. We protect our own.’
‘The Hammer and Tear – they were like fucking superheroes, man!’ Eddy mimed some of their moves. ‘Wow!’
‘Yes, they’re handy in a fight, those two,’ Fenja smiled.
‘How are they?’
‘Oh, none the worse. A dust-up like that gives them the horn. They certainly made the Hogs pay, as did Honer, our tailgunner. He reckons they iced a dozen between them, at least.’
Eddy gazed over the deepening crimson of the bay, feeling sick inside.
‘Don’t feel guilty. They started it, and they had it coming. They’ve attacked our club and our allies more times than I can remember. A lot of blood was owed.’
‘But … there will be reprisals. An eye for an eye… When does it stop?’
Fenja looked at him with surprise. ‘Stop? This is the way of the world. Life. Death. The blood of birth; the blood of the dying. It’ll end when the world ends.’
Eddy looked at the last embers of the day. The bloated red sun, as it slipped over the horizon, seemed to wink shut like a giant eye.
‘According to One-Eye, that’s happening.’
A green flash shot across their line of sight; then a chill breeze swept in from the darkling sea.
‘The tears of Venus … Yes, I’m afraid it is…’ She shivered and Eddy put his jacket round her shoulders and held her close. She suddenly seemed vulnerable, gazing at the encroaching night.
‘Come on, you don’t believe in all that stuff do you? Surely One Eye was talking figuratively? Sure, the weather is fucked. We know that. But it’s nothing to do with wolves and giants?’
She pulled away from him, furious. ‘Isn’t it? And what do you know?’
‘Hey… I’m sorry, alright.’ He held out his hands in peace. ‘I’m out of my depth here… All I know is what my senses tell me. I see a bunch of cool bikers with a president trying to do the right thing. He was the only one talking sense up there on that hill. We do need to work together to survive. It’s not just the weather that is screwy. The world is fucked. That Koil guy. Sheesh. Ass-holes like him are making it worse. They’re not just fiddling as Rome burns – they’re pouring on the gasoline.’
Fenja’s stiffened body language softened, and she allowed herself to be held again. ‘Your senses do not deceive, but there is more than meets the eye here too. The world you see … it is only one of many. And the people you see around you … One Eye, The Hammer, Rig, Tear, Honer … they are more than just men and women.’
Eddy’s brow furrowed. ‘What do you mean?’
Fenja took hold of his face with her long fingers and looked him square into his eyes. Her pale blue eyes seemed to suck in the remaining light and almost glow praeternaturally in the twilight. ‘We are the old gods and we live amongst you. Once people worshipped us, and we were mighty. But man is cursed with amnesia. He forgets the oaths he made, the offerings. The blessings we showered upon him and his line. We made the Vikings great. Inspired them to cross the Whale’s Road, to be feared and followed. Their legacy lives on in far-flung corners as well as the old lands. But these are modern times. It is a digital age, a cold age, an age of communication when nobody says anything, an age of speed when nobody is moved. People stare at screens instead of the sky, worry about petty things instead of wonder about great things, worship the machine and let it run their lives. It is an age of cowards and cretins. You have forgotten how to fight for what you love and are led by fools. You do not dream hard enough and are lost in the false dreams of others. Who remembers the old gods when you only have time for the god of greed?’
Eddy was moved by her passion. Her words struck him to the core, but the little voice in his mind could not help but question Fenja’s bold claims. ‘The spirit of what you say rings true, but … are you saying that our committee are the – what did Grandpa Gunnar call them…’ He searched for the word from childhood memories of his grandfather’s sagas. ‘…The Aesir?’
Fenja stood up, towering above him at her full height. She seemed even taller than usual, her spiky white-gold hair framing her head like a glory of the mountains. ‘Yes. And gods who became men can become gods again.’ Her voice took on an icy edge. ‘You are not the only one here with the blood of two worlds flowing in your veins, Eddy Redcrow!’
He got to his feet, wincing a little at the effort.
‘Kneel!’
The power of her voice made him instantly obey and he dropped to the sand.
‘My father is a frost giant. Once his heart was melted by a mortal woman … but I am my father’s daughter. Sometimes I feel I belong more in his realm of ice and mist than here, in Midgard. But … your messed up world fascinates me.’ She scanned the camp, the town beyond, with a haunted longing. ‘Perhaps part of me wants to reconnect with my mother. The love she had for my father killed her. I am afraid ours may too be a fatal attraction. Be warned!’ Her breath escaped in a freezing cloud.
Eddy trembled before her, as an icy atmosphere engulfed him, but he gritted his chattering teeth. ‘Wherever you are from; whoever your parents were … all I know is this. I love you, Fenja! Let me be your lover! I am not afraid!’
The icy cloud faded, and Fenja seemed to reduce in height a little, and became once more ‘just’ a dangerously beautiful, tall, blonde biker woman. She stepped forward. ‘You may stand if you wish…’ she smiled.
Eddy did so, with a little grunt of effort, and they embraced. She held him close, trembling. ‘You’re freezing!’
‘Let me steal your body heat, human!’ she laughed.
They kissed and the heat of that flooded through them.
‘Run away with me, Fen,’ he whispered to her.
She looked at him sceptically, white eyebrow raised.
‘Let’s leave this place, this island, this madness. Come back with me to Canada. It is full of wild beauty. Long, long roads through the wilderness. Great riding! I’d love to introduce you to my people. We could start a life there…’
She pulled away from him. ‘No. This is your tribe now. You have your patch. Your colours. You need to choose, Eddy. Where do you want to belong? When you’ve made your mind up, let me know!’
Fenja stormed off, and he watched her go, his heart heavy.
The last redness in the sky had been obliterated by the grey cloud. The sea was a black, uncrossable mystery.
Where did he belong? Who was his tribe? Perhaps he was fooling himself, trying to fit into this mob? Norse gods? Frost giants? They sounded crazier than him. Sure, his friends, his family back in Gimli, were just as crazy – with all their quirks and peccadilloes – but it was a craziness he could deal with.
Eddy gazed across the dark sea. Perhaps it was time for him to leave.
Extract of Thunder Road by Kevan Manwaring
Copyright (c) Kevan Manwaring 2020
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