Chapter VIII

The twang of many bowstrings was heard, and the volley of projectiles flew towards the city, striking several Aztec guards atop a wall. First blood goes to us, I thought. The ship was rocked as the vessel ran ashore. The seven of us stood aside as the Vikes rushed past and leapt from the boat, landing on the beach and charging the Aztecs, yelling war cries all the way. I spotted hordes of Aztec warriors pouring out of the city to intercept the Vikings.

We "minstrels" were the last warriors aboard the ship now. Eli began to restate the plan: "Alright, just stay back and—"

Out of nowhere, David dove from the boat, hit the sand, drew his sword, and charged after the Vikings, yelling. Macho son of a bitch. Jalil and Christopher, being his friends, followed him, trying to save him, I guess.

Eli cursed loudly and called out to the rest of us, "I guess it's up to us to go rescue them, eh?" Brett and Jayson looked at each other and I nodded to Eli.

My friend cocked his weapon. "Then let's do this."

In unison, we leapt from the boat and I hit the sand, my tennis shoes sinking into the soft sand. I whipped the Makarov from its holster and turned the safety off. Eli was scanning the beach ahead with his rifle. Brett and Jayson landed behind us. Brett had grabbed a Viking bow – he'd learned how to use a bow-and-arrow quite effectively from a relative of his. He was also a black belt in Karate – that would come in handy if the bad guys got too close. Jayson had grabbed a Viking spear and was holding it at the ready.

With that, we started off at a steady pace towards the battle raging fifty yards away. Yells, as well as screams of pain were heard, along with the sound of weapons on armor, not to mention weapons on flesh.

"Right there!" Jayson pointed out Christopher in the crowd, engaged with the Aztecs. We watched as he dodged a spear thrust and sliced downwards, splitting a hole in the attacker's scalp. But as the Aztec was going down, his arm swung wildly, and the crude handle of his spear struck Christopher on head, knocking him over.

"We're pulling him out of there! Jon, still got those smoke-bombs?"

Smoke-bombs. Another thing we'd brought over from the real world.

"Yeah! Wait a sec!" I rummaged through my pack and found three small tubes. I handed one to Jayson, one to Brett, and kept one for myself. Using a lighter, I lit all three of them as quick as possible. We ran forward and hurled the things with as much force as we could muster. Our aim was true – the bombs landed right between Christopher and the fighters. A thick, multi-colored fog puffed out. Aztecs and Vikings alike balked at the sight of the billowing smoke. Then they dismissed it from their minds and resumed battling.

We'd already made our move. Eli's laser-sight danced through the smoke-screen as he kept his weapon raised on approach, and we made our way to Christopher. One Aztec rushed through the fog. A red dot appeared on his bare chest, followed by two-bullets – courtesy of a double-tap by Eli. The rifle rounds tore half dollar-sized holes in the attacker, blowing red mist out of his back and eliciting a scream of pain. The sound of the carbine wasn't as unpleasant in the open as it had been in the tunnels of Loki, but it was still loud.

"Cover me!" Eli yelled as he knelt down beside Christopher. As he was checking him over, more Aztecs rushed us. This time it was an entire group. At least fifteen. I didn't hesitate this time, not like I had with the Vikings in Loki's castle. I brought the Makarov up and fired several, quick shots, unloading the magazine. I made hits, but not enough. Eli saw the attackers, and reached into his pack, which he'd set beside him. In one quick motion, he withdrew from it a revolver that made mine look like a toy. It was black, definitely a .357, with a 4-inch barrel. My friend had been holding out.

He brought the beast of a weapon to bear and lined up the sights, delivering six high-powered slugs into the approaching enemies, shattering bone and causing body tissue to explode from the impacts. The roar of the weapon being fired was terrible. He wasn't entirely ready for the recoil, though. His hands rose wildly with each shot.

Our volley of shots had dropped eleven of them. It was in that moment that the one inherent weakness of firearms came to bite us in the ass: ammunition. We'd both emptied our pistols, and there were still bad guys coming at us. Not a good situation. Eli tried to grab his carbine, but there was no time. By the time he'd grabbed the gun from the ground, an Aztec warrior was standing over him, sword raised high in the air. One second was that horrifying image, the next second had the same Aztec with the shaft of a spear protruding from his chest, point embedded deeply into his heart. At the other end of the spear was Jayson. He'd jumped in and probably saved Eli's life. Christopher then sat up, grabbed his sword, and jammed it upwards into the Aztec's gut, finishing him off.

Now I had to deal with the very angry one charging me. I dropped my Makarov, and pulled out two other weapons: the old .22 revolver and my baton. The Aztec stopped, and sized me up. A flick of my wrist, and the baton extended with a very satisfying sound. The Aztec saw this, and was slightly puzzled. Then he yelled and rushed me.

I pulled off a snap-shot with the .22 – basically whipping the weapon upwards and firing a single shot while simultaneously diving to the side. My bullet struck him somewhere in the torso. He barely noticed – .22 caliber rounds are tiny. I might as well try to tickle the guy to death. He attacked again, bringing his crude obsidian blade down. I was on the ground after diving, so I dropped the .22 and brought the baton up, bracing it with both hands as the blade struck the heavy-duty aluminum of my weapon. I heard a loud crackling sound – his blade had nearly shattered from the impact. Couldn't say I was surprised – it wasn't even metal, just a wood shaft with a bunch of sharp shards of stone attached to it, while the baton I was wielding was constructed from steel.

Now was my chance. I reached down to my belt and removed the stun gun. Clicking it on, I jammed it into the guy's mid-chest as his blade was still against my baton. I pushed the initiator button, and the loud pops and blue sparks ensued. The Aztec yelled and instantly went limp, falling to my side. As he fell, I jumped to my feet and immediately stomped on his ankle, making sure he stayed down. I then proceeded to swing the baton at his back several times, quick, whipping actions, using the flick of my wrist each time. He went out cold under this flurry.

Through the entire encounter, I was completely in the battle – no remorse, nothing. I'd lost it. I stopped beating my opponent and turned to see the final Aztec rushing towards me, yelling wildly. I nearly dropped my weapon. I had no will to fight. I was about to get impaled… time to find out what happens when you die here.

A whistling sound whipped past my ear, and directly after, an arrow appeared in the enemy's neck. I turned to see Brett lowering his bow. He'd saved my life.

Eli came rushed over to me."You alright, Jon? Talk to me, man."

I snapped out of it. "Yeah, yeah, I'm alright. How's Christopher?"

Christopher appeared behind my friend, "I'm fine."

I nodded and retrieved my weapons. We turned to survey the battle. The Vikings were winning, no doubt. They were steadily pushing the Aztecs closer and closer towards the city. They'd taken up a new battle cry… I struggled to make out what they were all yelling. Then I got it.

"Mjolnir! Mjolnir! Mjolnir!"

I spotted Olaf Ironfoot striding proudly through his men, directly into the Aztec lines. He was holding a hammer that was inlaid with intricate carvings – the end of the weapon was huge, but the handle was barely large enough for Olaf to grip. I watched as four of the Mexica charged the king. He hit them all with one, sweeping blow. They didn't just go down – they flew at least fifteen feet back, bodies shattered from the impact. They were mere humans against the weapon of a god.

Then this moment of high morale came to an end. A shadow fell across us. No natural shadow, either. I felt my heart go cold and I got goose bumps. My hairs stood up on end. I looked to the tallest building in the city. There he was. Huitzilopochtli. I could just barely make him out. He was staring straight at us.

Then, he leapt from his perch at the top of the pyramid and swooped down towards the beach, gliding with the feathers of a bird. A black shadow of death bearing down upon us…