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

to keep the tourists well-lubricated. But Gunnar knew the Strip hid more useful locations, too. There were drugstores tucked away in the shadows of more impressive buildings, private clubs past unmarked doors, and his current target: firing ranges where tourists could play Rambo in air-conditioned safety.

“We’re headed awfully close to the Luxor,” Ray cautioned Gunnar as they hustled across the Strip and scurried around the New York-New York casino.

“I know,” the bodyguard replied, “but it’s a chance we have to take. From what I saw on the roof, they haven’t posted guards, and they’re having a party around the Sphinx. If we keep our heads down, we won’t attract their attention.”

“How are you keeping your head down, Jolly?” Mimi asked quietly. “You’re a walking goddamned telephone pole.”

“Maybe I should put you up on my shoulders,” the bodyguard said. “That would distract any jötunn who saw me. Plus, I wouldn’t mind giving you another ride.”

Bridget and Ray smiled at that, and Mimi stifled a laugh.

“No thanks,” she said. “You better watch it or there won’t be another ride for you.”

“That might be for the best,” Ray said with a snicker. “You totally wrecked that room. If Gunnar keeps getting bigger every time he finds a relic, next time we’ll have an earthquake.”

“Don’t be jealous,” Mimi said, sticking out her tongue.

“Shhh,” Gunnar cautioned.

He paused in the shelter of a line of trees planted along the casino’s south side. He peered through their trunks at the Excalibur across the street. There were no jötnar in sight, but the signs of their passage were everywhere. Clouds of flies swarmed around defiled corpses that littered the sidewalks. Wrecked and burned vehicles clogged the streets. Most of those were empty, the doors torn open. A few, though, held bloated corpses or scorched skeletons. But even in the carnage, Gunnar saw fresh signs of life. Grass grew through cracks in the pavement, and small saplings had taken root and unfurled their first leaves among the dead cars and trucks. There were changes happening, and he felt they were related to the blood rune and the Hall of Heroes. As he raised the lodge, Gunnar was changing the city.

He led the small group in a crouched, zigzag hustle across the Tropicana. The völva followed him in a single-file line, a human snake that wound its way through the wreckage and carnage choking the wide street. Gunnar was glad for the cover the mess provided, but he could’ve done without the smell. It didn’t get much better when they crossed the street and entered the parking lot that bordered the Excalibur. People trying to flee the chaos of the casino had thrown the rules of the road out the window and played a deadly game of bumper cars. Most of them lost. The lot was packed with jumbles of disabled cars, most of which were scorched down to bare metal.

“What a waste,” Mimi muttered. “I can’t believe someone created this disaster on purpose.”

“The world is full of crazy people,” Bridget said. “Most of them can only dream of their fantasies. A few, though, claw their way to the top of the heap. Once they’ve got enough money and power, they pour the poison in their heads down on the rest of us.”

Ray frowned and stepped over a mangled bumper. “Kyrolina isn’t crazy. That’s what makes her so dangerous.”

Memories of the only time Gunnar had met YmirRe’s founder and CEO played through his head as he picked a safe path for his team. She was a tall, lean woman with an imposing, angular face. Her eyes had been such a pale shade of blue Gunnar first thought she didn’t have irises at all. As a lowly security technician, he’d been beneath her notice. But Gunnar watched Kyrolina talk to software engineers, geneticists, and other technical team members with startling insight. It was clear she knew as much, or more, about what her company did as anyone who worked for her. She only had employees because it was impossible for her to do all the work quickly enough to satisfy her drive.

Gunnar wished he’d known what was coming back then. He’d have pumped a bullet through the back of the woman’s head and dragged her body so deep into the desert even the buzzards would never have found it.

The team didn’t talk much after that. The jötnar were stirring, and though their hoots and hollers were blocks away, they didn’t want to risk attracting their attention. Fortunately, it seemed most of the monsters had stayed on the Strip side of the casino. They didn’t see a single jötunn even when they took Frank Sinatra Drive behind the Luxor’s parking garage down to Mandalay Bay Road. Whatever the creatures were doing, they had posted no guards to watch their territory. Gunnar hoped that would be their undoing.

After scuttling across the highway and making their way a few blocks farther south, Gunnar stopped in front of their destination. “All right, ladies, here we go. Bridget, it’s time you learned to shoot.”

The range’s door was ajar, and the bodyguard prayed the place hadn’t already been looted. He’d come here more than once learning how to handle all kinds of firearms. That had been years ago, though. He wasn’t sure what to expect when he eased the door open with the shotgun’s barrel.

“Don’t take another step,” a man’s gravelly voice called out from within the shadowed interior. “Drop the gun, show me your hands. Slowly.”

Gunnar didn’t protest. Anyone holed up in this building had access to enough firepower to bring down a small army. He had no idea how many opponents were inside and no desire to be shredded into meat confetti. He followed the directions to a T, careful to keep his movements smooth and slow. When he had both hands through the partially opened doorway, he heard whispers from deeper in the building

“Are you alone?” the man called again.

“No,” Gunnar said, “but my friends won’t come inside until I know you’re not a