Valhalla Virus by Nick Harrow (best management books of all time TXT) 📕

fifteen minutes from here. Easy peasy with your new buffness. A quick adventure, in and out, Morty. It’ll be fun.”

Gunnar chuckled at her joke, then shook his head. “Fifteen minutes in the old world, before there were monsters dancing around burning cars in the middle of the Strip.”

Mimi nodded and peered into her glass. “I don’t think we should drive a car, honestly. There are a lot more jötnar than there are of us. The best way to stay alive is to keep our heads down, and that means walking.”

The bodyguard tried to imagine the path from the lodge to the Luxor. If they didn’t run into any trouble at all and made good time, it would still take more than an hour to cross that distance. If a bunch of jötnar ambushed them, their stroll would turn into a running battle. They’d have to be very careful because if they were found before they reached their target, the monsters would overwhelm them. And that brought up another question.

“How did Hyrrokkin find the lodge?” Gunnar asked.

Mimi fidgeted in her seat for a moment. “It wasn’t any big secret that I was hanging out here. That’s half the reason the bosses hired me. I had good relations with most of the players in town, even after I pulled back, so they figured people would leave the place alone.”

Gunnar drained his drink and leaned back in the chair. The furniture creaked in protest as his weight shifted, and Mimi shot him a warning glance that said she’d hold him personally responsible if he broke anything. Gunnar offered her a sheepish smile, then said, “And we didn’t kill all the jötnar at the Villas. But that still means some of the survivors had to know someone who knew you were here. I guess it makes sense.”

“Worrying about it now won’t fix anything,” Mimi said. “Finish your drinks, ladies, and we’ll get some sleep. There’s an emergency barrier we can use to seal up the elevator shaft, so unless they get their hands on a nuke, we should be fine until morning.”

Bridget guzzled the last of her tequila and let out a big yawn. “When do we go after Gungnir?”

“We leave at dawn,” Gunnar said. “We’ll stick to the side streets and stay away from the Strip until we don’t have a choice. We can take over the penthouse at the MGM and spy on the Luxor from there.”

Mimi got up from the table. “There are some backpacks and holsters in storage,” she said. “We’ll load up ammo and guns for everyone. We’ll start with a big breakfast. Other than that, I suggest we travel light and move fast. I’m going to lock this place up and get some sleep. The rest of you should get as much rest as you can.”

As much as Gunnar wanted the women with him where he could protect them, it was better that they all slept in their own rooms. The chance to do more interesting things would have been too tempting otherwise.

Gunnar didn’t need much sleep, though. The hamingja he’d stolen during the fight sustained him well enough. He caught a couple of hours out of habit, then got up to create a breakfast of bacon, eggs, coffee, and pancakes. They joked and teased one another while they ate, and for an all-too-short time, Gunnar wasn’t worried about face-eating monsters killing these women he’d come to love more than he’d ever thought possible.

But all good things come to an end. Far too soon, they’d finished their breakfast, and it was time to face the world outside their home.

THE AIR OUTSIDE THE lodge reeked of smoke. Clouds of ash scattered across the sun’s rising face and rained black flakes down on the Vegas streets. Sporadic whooping howls and screams echoed through the neighborhood. It was impossible to tell where they came from, but to Gunnar’s ears they were much too close. He waited for Mimi to finish locking up the garage, then shouldered his shotgun and gestured for the others to draw close to him. “Stick close to me. We’ll move fast and quiet, but if you see something, speak up. I’d rather you make a little noise than for us to get blindsided.”

The völva nodded. With a start, Gunnar realized all of their clothes had changed. The völva wore furs and knee-high boots, while Gunnar had a leather shirt and breeches, and low moccasins.

“What is going on with our clothes?” Ray protested. “I look like an extra at a ren faire.”

“It’s not just the clothes.” Gunnar pointed at the buildings that surrounded the lodge.

The changes he’d spotted yesterday had accelerated overnight. The building across the street from Mimi’s place had lost half a dozen stories, and the lower floors looked like they belonged on log cabins. A rutted dirt path dotted with patches of snow had replaced the entire street that ran in front of the lodge. Even the temperature had changed, dropping at least thirty degrees below the normally sweltering Vegas summer. Gunnar wondered how long it would be before the heavy clouds unleashed their payloads of snow.

Las Vegas had shed its skin. This new city was strange to Gunnar. The past had forced its way through the glittering façade and put down roots in the present. The bodyguard expected jötnar to lunge out of every changed building they passed, but all they saw were signs of the creatures’ handiwork. Broken bodies piled alongside the road, then set alight. A burned-out minivan surrounded by a circle of grease. When Gunnar peeked through the driver’s shattered window, he discovered more scorched skeletons than he could count and knew where all that melted fat had come from.

“This is crazy,” Bridget whispered. “How are we supposed to fight all of...whatever did this?”

The pain in her voice chilled Gunnar. There was something desperate and forlorn in her words, like the distant howl of a wolf separated from its pack. It physically hurt to hear that fear from someone