Free The Bones Of Odin (Matt Drake 1) by David Leadbeater Page A

taking them two at a time.
    Come on. He climbed until his calves ached and his lungs burned. But then he came out onto a wide landing. Beyond that lay a wide stream, rushing madly, and still further away stood a raised altar of rough hewn rock, almost like an archaic barbecue.
    But it was the massive symbol engraved into the wall behind the altar that caught Drake’s attention. Three triangles, overlaying one another. Some mineral within the carvings caught the artificial light and gleamed like sequins on a black dress.
    No time to lose. He waded across the stream, sucking in air when the freezing water rose to his thighs. As he approached the altar, he saw an object resting on its surface. A short, pointed artefact, not astonishing or impressive. Actually mundane . . .
    . . . the Spear of Odin.
    The object that had pierced the side of a God.
    A surge of excitement and apprehension passed through him. This was the event that made it all real. Up to now it had been a bunch of maybes, just clever speculation. But beyond this moment it was frighteningly real.
    Horrifyingly real. They were facing a countdown to the end of the world.
     
     
     
     
     
     

ELEVEN
     
    THE PIT OF THE WORLD TREE, SWEDEN
     
    Drake didn’t stand on ceremony. He grabbed the Spear and headed back the way he’d come. Through the freezing stream, down the crumbling stairs. He switched the flashlight off half-way, and slowed as utter darkness enveloped him.
    Faint beams of light swept the entrance below.
    He kept going. It wasn’t over yet. He’d long since learned that, more often than not, the man who thought overlong in combat was the man who never made it home.
    He stopped dead on the last step, then crept into the passageway’s deeper darkness. The Germans were close now, almost at the end of the ledge, but their flashlights would only pick him out as another shadow at this range. He skipped across the passage, hugged the wall, and started for the slope that led to the base of the Viking ships.
    A man’s voice snapped: “See that! Look sharp, Stevie Wonder!” The voice surprised him, carrying the deep twang of the American South.
    Dammit. The eagle-eyed bastard had seen him - or at least a moving shadow - something he wouldn’t have thought possible in this gloom. He ran faster. A shot rang out, striking rock close to where he’d just been.
    A shadowy figure leaned out over the ledge - probably the American. “There’s a path down there among the ships. Get your dicks movin’ ‘fore I stick ‘em down your lazy throats.”
    Damn. The Yank had seen the hidden path.
    Harsh, arrogant, superior. One of the Germans said: “Fuck you, Milo,” and then squeaked as he was manhandled bodily down the slope.
    Drake thanked his lucky stars. He was on the man in a second, smashing his vocal chords and twisting his neck with an audible crack before anyone else could follow.
    Drake raised the German’s gun - a Heckler and Koch MG4 - and fired a few rounds. One man’s head exploded.
    Ah, yes, he thought. Still better at shooting a gun than a camera.
    “Canadians!” was the concurring series of hisses.
    Drake smiled at the furious whispers. Let them think that.
    Without any more dalliance he sprinted along the path as fast as he dared. Ben and Kennedy were ahead, and needed his protection. He’d sworn to get them out of this alive, and he wouldn’t let them down.
    At his back, the Germans were proceeding down the slope with caution. He fired off a few rounds to keep them busy, and started counting ships.
    Four, six, eleven.
    The pathway grew precarious, but finally levelled out. At one point it thinned so drastically that anyone over fifteen stone would probably break a rib squeezing between timbers, but it widened again as he counted the sixteenth ship.
    The vessels loomed above him, ancient, intimidating, smelling of old bark and mould. A fleeting movement caught his attention and he glanced left to see a figure that could only be this new