CHAPTERTHIRTY-EIGHT
The final stretch of the swamp was rife with grime floating on top of the water that Muni wasn’t quite sure if it was swamp scum or chunks of something once living. The smell could have been either option. Add to that the constant stalking of the alligators and the mosquitoes flying around their faces, and it was a miserable last few miles. If Muni had her way, she’d never trek through another swamp. For all of Louisiana’s good traits—the food alone was to die for! —Muni couldn’t think of ever visiting the swamps there. Not after this.
“There’s the edge,” Eirik panted, dragging himself from the water and onto the bank. They were all worn from the hike, the resistance of the water really pulling them down.
As they all pulled themselves out of the water, their bodies heavier with the weight of the moisture, they each took a moment to take stock of the surroundings and themselves. They were all whole, had escaped the swamp with nothing but exhaustion and bug bites that faded quickly. Muni considered that a win. They’d survived the first on-foot portion ever in the Race Games.
Glancing around, Muni saw the box marked with the Crow symbol. Straightening and moving over toward it, she studied the panel when the doors didn’t immediately open.
“It looks like you have to place your hand on it,” Eirik murmured as he came up behind her. “Perhaps, they’re locked for all except the team?”
Without answering, Muni placed her dirty hand over the panel. It lit up green beneath her palm, a line moving to scan it. The symbol of the crow flared brightly and then went dark the same time as the lock on the doors clicked and it swung open.
Smiling at Eirik, she tried to wipe her hand on her shirt, but it didn’t help when she was so dirty. “You were right. Let’s go.”
Brin and Vidar came up behind them, all entering the container to find the McLaren sitting pristine and waiting. Eirik quickly checked over the bottom of the car and around it before nodding and climbing inside.
“Let’s go,” Vidar said, closing the door behind him and buckling up his harness. The others followed suit. “Now that we’ve found the information we needed, we get to the finish line.”
“What about the Councilman?” Eirik asked, wrinkling his brow. His tablet had been in the car and the moment he’d buckled himself in, he’d began tapping on it to make sure the car was okay as Muni pressed the start button.
Vidar glanced over at Muni. “I’m assuming that won’t be handled on the track since we don’t have access to him from here.”
Muni nodded. “Councilman Deadmont will have to be handled after, once we’re free of the Games.”
Dropping the car into first gear, Muni eased forward, the back of the container disappearing to reveal the next section of the track.
“Welcome to Deep Water Horizon,” Google said from Brin’s tablet. The voice was a little strange now, as if there was dirt in the speaker. Brin immediately began wiping at it in an attempt to clear it, but Muni didn’t think it would help. Likely, the tablet would die by the end of this race, another one for the trash. They wouldn’t need it after this race anyway.
They were silent as the darkness cleared and the scenery revealed itself to be a track surrounded by industrial looking machinery. Muni stared at it in confusion, taking in the metal pipes running in tangles along the edges and the large structure before them, standing tall and reaching into the air.
“It’s an oil rig,” Eirik murmured. “The Deep Water Horizon was an ocean rig, but there’s no water here. Whoever named this section didn’t do their homework.”
“An oil rig?” Vidar asked, leaning forward to watch the large structure pulse before them.
“Great metal structures built to drill into the ground and extract oil,” Eirik answered. “It’s the first step before processing so we can use it in vehicles and for various other things.”
They fell into silence again as Muni eased through the track at a decent speed. It was no longer about catching up to the necromancers. Now, their only goal was to cross the finish line alive. Around them, the metal pipes were lined with gauges and panels Muni had never seen before. Some of the pipes shot out steam from them at intervals. Some of them oozed what looked like chemicals, the liquid bright colors. She wasn’t sure what would happen if they touched the chemicals, but it was best not to find out.
“Did it help?” Brin asked suddenly, breaking the comfortable silence between them.
Muni looked in the rearview mirror and met his eyes. “Did what help?”
“Killing him?”
She looked away, focusing on the road in front of them again. It was a deep question, one she probably should answer, but it still took too long to find the words she wanted to say. “No,” Muni admitted. “But perhaps, killing the next one responsible will.”
She knew it wouldn’t. Revenge was a funny thing, and though it was necessary sometimes, it didn’t bring back what you’d lost before seeking that revenge. Though the one who planted the bomb on Hugin’s car was gone, it wouldn’t bring back her brother. So many years later, it was even dulled. It hadn’t felt like revenge anymore. It felt like a task and nothing more. Still, the draw to find the corruption, to discover who had twisted the Race Games, was strong. There were still other brothers and sisters out there who didn’t need to die, other people who didn’t deserve death in the Games. Change needed to happen, and while Muni wasn’t usually the one to help with such things, this felt personal.
If only she could reach Odin and ask him for his guidance, but the god hadn’t been heard from since he retreated from the nine realms.
Muni was thinking on ways to possibly get a message to Odin, her eyes slightly glazed over, when the Mustang came out of nowhere, slamming into the side of their McLaren so hard, it nearly gave Muni whiplash. The medallion flared brightly, and before her eyes, it disintegrated, nothing more than dust left on the chain it once hung. Cricket’s charm was gone, but it had done its job. From now on out, all hits would be better felt.
Muni had thought all other teams would be far ahead, but when she looked over at the Mustang keeping pace with them and saw the wolf team, she scowled.
Apparently, the wolves had been waiting for them to arrive.
The Mustang pushed hard against their car, and though Muni had more power at her fingertips, the large Mustang had weight and brute strength as they attempted to push them from the track.
“We need to get them off our case,” Vidar growled, reaching for the weapons panel.
“Stop!” Eirik shouted, startling them. “Don’t push any of the weapons.”
“Why the Hel not?” Vidar snarled, turning in his seat.
Eirik gestured out the window. “We’re surrounded by the most flammable things on the planet. If you fire any weapons and a single spark lights, this whole place will go up in flames.”
Vidar’s face twisted at the realization. “Fuck.” But he withdrew his hand and gestured toward the axe Muni had carried. She’d thrown it in the backseat with Brin and Eirik before they’d gotten in the car. “Give me the axe.”
Brin threaded it between the seats, careful not to nick anyone with the sharp edge. Then Vidar rolled down the window and unfastened his harness.
“Keep close,” Vidar ordered Muni when the wolves drew away at the sight of them. The driver rolled down his own window, the passenger taking the wheel as he leaned out himself. Vidar’s axe and the wolf’s club met in a clash of metal, a single spark falling. Vidar panicked, but the spark landed harmlessly on the pavement, not touching any of the oil there. Still, he was careful not to meet the club again. Instead, he swung low, making the wolf jerk back.
The Mustang came at them again and Muni watched as Vidar braced himself. He drew back his fist and slammed it against the wolf, the asshole’s head snapping back at the contact. The wolf shouted something Muni couldn’t hear.
In front of them, a large cloud of steam hovered over the road and Muni eased the car over when the Mustang pulled back again, allowing them space miraculously to avoid the cloud. But Muni should have been prepared for the attack.
The Mustang slammed into them so hard, it pushed the McLaren to the left briefly. Though she had enough time to correct the tires, Muni didn’t have time to pull away from the steam cloud again.
“Vidar!” she screamed, reaching for him in an attempt to drag him back inside, but she was too slow.
The McLaren cut through the steam, the windows immediately fogging up outside from the heat of it. Vidar grunted outside the window. He didn’t scream, but he dragged himself inside quickly, avoiding the worst of the steam. Brin and Eirik were leaning forward, trying to check him over, but Muni slammed on the breaks, forcing the car to a stop in between the clouds of steam. The wolves continued forward, uncaring that they’d stopped, either giving up on killing Muni or deciding it wasn’t worth it.
“Are you okay?” Muni asked, unfastening her harness to lean toward him. Only then did she see the true damage.
Vidar’s face was raw and peeling, as if the steam had cooked his skin off. Either it was so hot, it had literally boiled him alive, or something else was in the steam to cause damage. Regardless, Vidar had been in the steam cloud for literal seconds.
“I’m fine,” he grunted, but he couldn’t hide the pain in his voice. “Keep going.”
Muni was ready to panic, planned on it, until she saw the edges of the burn begin to fluctuate.
“Oh shit,” Eirik breathed, seeing the same thing as she did. “You’re healing.”
“What?” Vidar asked, flipping down the mirror. He studied himself there, his eyes widening when he watched the edge of the burn retreat.
“Well,” Muni said after a moment. “I guess that answers the question of if you three will heal like I do.”
Vidar reached up and rubbed at the shiny new pink skin fixing itself and blinked, hard. Then he met her eyes. “Go, Munin. I’ll be okay.”
She nodded and took off again, grateful for the reprieve and the new knowledge. It was good to know that if one of her men were injured, they’d heal. The panic subsided completely, replaced with relief. She was just wondering at the wolves deciding not to fight any longer when the dash panel of the car began to ring.
“Incoming call,” the robotic voice said. “Would you like to answer?”
Muni blinked. Who the Hel could be calling them in the middle of the race?