Under A Winter Sun Johan Dahlgren (digital e reader .txt) 📖

through the air, mere centimetres above us.

I had my shot at saving Finn. Now the dread general will do his thing. All I can do is hope he doesn't perceive my friends as a threat, because I won't be able to save them if he does.

From here on in, I'm only along for the ride.

The General goes into a roll and comes up on his feet three metres from where I stood. Before they have time to realign their weapons, he's on the gunmen like a tornado.

He's unarmed, but Meridian doesn't need weapons. He uses the enhanced frame of his body to kill them like they were not even there.

The first Goliath goes down from a punch to the throat. In horrible slow-motion, his larynx crumples and he drops. Before his knees reach the floor, Meridian is on the next man. In a single fluid motion, the General yanks the assault rifle out of the Goliath's hands and turns it on the man. From point-blank range, Meridian fires a quick burst through the man's chest. He drops like a rag doll. Meridian raises the barrel and fires another burst into the face of the next man coming through the door. He drops too, and Meridian turns the weapon on the fourth man outside the door and pulls the trigger.

Nothing happens. The weapon is empty.

The hitmen were not expecting such a rapid response to their attack, and too late the Goliath outside the door raises his weapon.

Meridian uses the empty rifle as a club and caves in the Goliath's head. Blood sprays the walls and warm liquid spatters Meridian's face.

There are five more men behind the dead Goliath, with their weapons at the ready. Meridian drops to the floor as they fire.

A storm of bullets fills the air, and I can only hope Finn and Hildr are out of the way.

Pink silk sheets tear to shreds and drift to the floor in slow-motion.

Meridian scrambles back into the relative safety of the room and kicks the door shut behind him.

Another round of bullets hit the wood from the other side, but the thing must be armoured since not a single bullet penetrates the wood.

Finn has got his leggings on. Hildr clutches her arm and blood drips between her fingers.

The world speeds up to normal again, and the General disappears like he was never even there. The muted atmosphere of the boudoir must have signalled safety to my lizard brain.

“I lost you again, Perez.”

“You found me. Get over it.”

“Winger needs to check you over.”

“I'd like that.”

“Fuck you.”

“Now hush.”

“Whatever.” Aeryn clicks off.

I struggle to focus, but everything is blurry. It used to be easier to come back to myself after the General's visits. Is my imprinted mind slipping? Maybe Winger needs to check me over when we get home.

“Who are they?” Finn points at the door.

I blink and shake my head to clear my thoughts. “Your brother sent them.”

“Eirik? Why?”

“I fucking told you. He killed your father, and now he will kill you too unless we can figure a way out of here.”

“Why?”

“No time, Finn. Can you get us out?”

Finn shakes his head.

“No. This place is made like bunker.”

Shit.

Another volley of shots outside and everything goes quiet.

Too quiet.

Someone knocks on the door from the other side.

We look at each other in disbelief.

There's another knock. Heavier this time.

“Who's there?” I call.

A muted voice comes through. “Skallagrim.”

Hildr inches toward the door.

“Skallagrim?” she calls. Then she goes on in their own tongue.

Skallagrim replies something in kind, and Hildr cracks the door to peer outside before she pulls it wide open.

Outside stands the red-headed skald, holding a dark bloody sword. Behind him are a pile of corpses and his three band members, still in makeup. The band is also brandishing swords.

Swords. How badass is that?

Skallagrim steps into the room and gazes around with curiosity. The breeder compound is normally off-limits to ordinary mortals like him.

Hildr wraps her arms around the singer and hugs him. He's a tower of a man, taller than Finn but lither, and she has to stand on tiptoe to hug him. There's a slight tug on my heart at the sight.

“Am I glad to see you, brother.” She gives the man a warm smile.

Oh. Brother.

“Same to you. I thought you were dead.”

Skallagrim turns to me. “Come. We must go.”

“Lead the way.” I gesture at the door.

Finn has got his boots on. “Where are shirt and jacket?”

“Leave them, big guy. If we live, I'll buy you fresh ones. Come on.”

Skallagrim gives Finn's bare chest a look and says something in Norse. Finn replies in kind and Skallagrim laughs.

Hildr barks something at them, and they both laugh.

I bend down to pick up one of the large assault rifles. “What was that about?” I nod at Finn and Skallagrim.

She snorts. “Boys.”

Finn picks up a rifle, checks the magazine with practised ease and grunts in satisfaction. I hold out another rifle to Skallagrim, but he shakes his head and pats his sword.

I wouldn't want to meet him in a one-on-one. That sword looks like it has a monomolecular edge. He could cleave a hair with that blade. I like him.

“What's the quickest way to the airfield?” I distribute the magazines from the death squad.

The singer points down the way we came. “That way.”

The slaughterhouse smell of the dead Goliaths fills my nostrils.

“Follow me.”

I put the rifle to my shoulder, step over the pile of corpses and take point down the corridor. We reach the kitchen and I kick the door down. It goes flying off its hinges and crashes into a soldier posted there to guard the rear exit.

A quick burst in his surprised face, and he slides dead to the floor.

Something falls over close to the left-hand wall and I swing my rifle to track it. A small figure scurries for cover. It's the first human-sized creature I've seen on Nifelheim, apart from us. It could be a skinny Goliath child.

“Hold it right there,” I call and the figure freezes.

“Please don't kill me,” it whimpers in perfect English.

“Who's