Peter crept under the fence, dragging his crutches behind him. Mick was already on his feet, looking down towards the facility further down the hill.
-What do you think is down there? he said.
-I don’t know. I hope we won’t have to run this time, though. I’m not so fast these days.
Peter had broken his leg when he jumped off a container to get out of the old paper factory a month ago. They used to do this, jumping over fences in restricted areas. It had become an obsession.
They walked slowly towards the buildings further down. They could see people moving around, some dressed as scientists, others in guard uniforms. The timing was horrible, with crutches and all, but Mick was always very convincing.
They reached some rows of tube piles giving them shelter, taking them down towards the buildings.
Joe’s head hurt more than usual. What happened last night? Where had he been, what had he done? He was hoping he’d never find out. No news were good news.
He turned his head. A woman was lying beside him. Pretty. Too pretty. Definitely a whore, there’s no way she’d be here for free. He looked around. He seemed to be in some cheap motel somewhere. At least he hadn’t brought her home.
I’m too old for this shit, he thought to himself.
His bladder was about to explode, so he pulled himself together and got out of bed. It hurt. Every muscle, every bone. His mind. His mind hurt like hell, and the room was spinning.
He went out into the bathroom, and sat down on the loo. He sat there for a while. Images flashing by, memories of yesterday. Girls laughing. Him dancing on the table.
Too old, he thought. Too fucking old.
He pulled a sheet from the paper roll, started folding it. A sound. He looked down between his legs.
Thor had been on a journey through Jotunheim, the land of the Giants. On his way home he stopped, and camped by the foot of a mountain. He grilled one of his goats on the fire, ate, and went to sleep.
When he woke up in the morning, his goat had resurrected, as always. The two of them were waiting eagerly to get going, already strapped to the wagon. He got his clothes on, got his power belt on and reached out for his gloves Járngreipnr. They were gone. He looked everywhere, under his blanket, under the rocks around. They were not to be found. Someone had stolen them while he was sleeping.
Dark clouds gathered in the skies as he screamed in fury… (More)