The Berserker

Pete knocked on the door at Wilson and Aimee-Lou’s house and he opened it without being invited in.

His face was dirty and his hair was matted with sweat and grime from the cave, with the dull odour of petroleum still in his torn clothes.

“What the frick happened to you?” Wilson asked as he spotted Pete walking into the kitchen.

Aimee-Lou screamed slightly and Marcus ran over to his brother, supporting his weight and guiding him to the chair at the kitchen table.

“Jeez,” Marcus said, “Are you okay?”

“I tried to get the trolls to stop it,” he said as he held his stomach.

He pulled his jumper apart and inspected the new slice down his skin, touching it and wincing.

“Shall I get some antiseptic?” Aimee-Lou asked eager to do anything that would take her mind away from Lana and Flo.

Pete nodded and smiled caringly, and she trotted up the stairs to the bathroom.

“You went to the island on your own?” Wilson asked him angrily, dumbfounded.

“It was something I needed to do,” Pete said as he winced in pain again.

“Frick,” Wilson shouted, with his arms in the air. “What did we say when we first told you about all this Pete, huh? Together, at arm’s length together.”

Pete was breathless as he spoke.

“I needed to go alone,” he said, “It was the only way they would listen to me. They would have killed us all otherwise.”

Aimee-Lou returned with the antiseptic, and began dabbing it on the slice down Pete’s stomach, and he pulled away with the pain, glared at her seriously, but changing it when he saw the sadness in her eyes.

“Sorry,” she said as she continued carefully.

“It’s okay,” he replied softly. “Thank you.”

“So what was said?” Wilson asked, still not happy that Pete risked his life.

Pete smiled at Wilson manically, as though he had set something up that was way beyond genius.

“Oh no,” Wilson said, anticipating Peter’s stupidity. “What have you done?”

“They will call it off tomorrow at 11.02,” he said, surely.

Marcus looked at Wilson and vice versa, and they both asked the same thing at the same time.

“How can you be so precise?”

“Because,” he said as he joined his hands together and stretched his fingers, causing series of cracking noises that Aimee-Lou found repulsive, “We are going to give them the wheel of heaven.”

“Do the what, now?” Marcus said confused, not really sure what he meant.

“The wheel the what?” Wilson asked, shaking his head.

Pete was about to explain when Aimee-Lou spoke.

“The wheel of heaven is the Sun in Norse mythology,” she said, as she continued to work on Pete. “The only time they are allowed in the Sunlight is the days that surround the total eclipse of the Sun, as the power of the light is slightly changed, even though humans can’t see any difference.” Wilson and Marcus focused on her as Pete closed his eyes against the pain of the antiseptic. “They said that if a troll could swallow the wheel of heaven then they could return to the mainland, regardless of what humans said, because there would be no Sunshine to turn them to stone. The elder troll believes that if he had the wheel of heaven, he could control it and make it night-time all the time and so, therefore, they could come out and taste warm blood always.” She finished dabbing and looked at the two boys, who were staring at her intently. “The trolls aren’t very bright you see, so they only see what is right in front of them. They also think that if they can have warm blood all the time, then they will be Berserkers all the time as well, and then they could rule the mainland.” She stood up and pulled a chair out to sit. “What they don’t remember is that, if the elder has the wheel of heaven presented to it, then it will have to grant whatever request the thing, or person in our case, asks them. Whatever it asks them,” she said again.

“So as long as we can convince the elder that what’s being presented is, in fact, the wheel of heaven,” Pete said.

“Then you could request anything you wanted in return,” Aimee-Lou finished off.

“Brilliant,” Pete said, and he grabbed Aimee-Lou around the neck and kissed her on the forehead. “You are a genius,” he said to her, and she blushed as she lowered her head.

Marcus looked at Wilson again, shrugging his shoulders and shaking his head in bewilderment.

“Okay then,” Wilson said as he stood up and walked to the sink.

“So for us thicko’s,” Marcus asked Aimee-Lou and Pete, and they looked at each other and smiled.

“We need to find something that we can substitute for the Sun,” Pete said to Marcus. “It needs to be something that will burn long enough to get us off the island. It needs to burn intensely, but be easy to light. Any ideas?”

Wilson walked back from the sink with a glass of water.

“How are we going to fit the Sun on Holy Island, Pete?” he asked him, genuinely.

Pete and Marcus looked at Wilson, and Aimee-Lou laughed to herself.

“How big is the Sun in the sky Wils? Peter asked him. “By looking at it, I mean, how big would you say?”

Wilson swigged his water and shrugged.

“Basketball size, maybe football, why?”

“What if we could get a football to burn intensely for half an hour, maybe a little less, Wils,” Aimee-Lou asked him. “Do you think we could fool a bunch of trolls that they are holding the Sun on a stick?”

He placed the glass on the table and shook his head.

“No,” he said, “Because the Sun would still be in the sky, and not even trolls are that stupid.”

“Well, what if,” Pete said quietly, “we could make the Sun disappear; do you think that would fool them?”

“Probably,” Wilson said after a moment’s thought, “But making the Sun disappear is impossible, unless its night-time.”

“Or a total eclipse,” Marcus said excitedly, as though a light switch had appeared above his head.

“Can we have a round of applause for Marcus Robson,” Pete said sarcastically, clapping his brother loudly. “That is precisely the way,” he said to him.

“That is very clever,” Wilson agreed. “But what can we use as the Sun?”

Marcus stood up, enlightened for the second time in as many minutes.

“Wils,” he said hurriedly, “What was Basil Brush saying about fossil fuels the other day in Geology. He said about the fires that occur and can burn for years sometimes, if they go undetected.”

Wilson looked at Marcus as his brain ticked over.

“Peat,” he replied quickly, so the answer didn’t suddenly leave his mind and he forgot it.

“What,” Pete asked.

“No, peat,” Wilson said.

“No what,” Pete said again, more annoyed this time.

“No,” Wilson said with attitude, “Basil Brush was talking about peat.”

“I have no idea who Basil Brush is Wilson,” Pete said, dismissively, “So the chances of him talking about me are zero.”

“Not you,” Wilson shouted, “Frick,” he said with frustration, and he breathed slowly to calm himself. “Mr Basil, our Geology teacher, was talking,” Wilson waved his hand dismissively, “Just forget about it,” he said as he shook his head.

Marcus giggled, and so did Aimee-Lou.

“Don’t keep saying my name if you...”

“Peter,” Aimee-Lou interrupted, really trying not to laugh. “He is talking about the fossil fuel called peat, that’s P E A T, and not you, which is P E T E.”

Pete looked at her and then at Wilson, who had gone a slightly odd colour of red on his neck, and he laughed under his breath, trying to hide his embarrassment.

“We could’ve gone on for hours then,” he said to Wilson, and all four of them did laugh.

“So what you're saying is that, if we get some peat, about the size of a football, we can make the Sun?” Wilson questioned.

“The peat needs to be dried out significantly to light,” Aimee-Lou said, “But if it was forced into something round, then it is possible.”

“Hang on there,” Wilson said, and he ran up the stairs three at a time. He came back down holding a leather football, which he threw to Aimee-Lou. “If you get the middle out of that you could stuff it.”

She walked to the drawer, grabbed a pair of scissors and she pushed the point into the adapter, causing the air to rush out in a second.

“Where are we going to some dried out peat to stuff it with?” Marcus asked, but Wilson was already thing about that very thing.

Basil Brush had a cupboard full of the stuff, didn’t he? He asked. “We could get into the school and grab what we need.”

He looked at Marcus and raised his eyebrows a couple of times at him.

“We can,” he agreed.

“We will need something to soak it in,” Aimee-Lou said to any of them. “It will need to be highly flammable, like paraffin oil or white spirit, so just the fumes will help ignite it.”

“I can deal with that,” Pete said.

“Good,” Aimee-Lou said with a smile. “I will find something to use a holder.”

“Shall we me back here at 7 o’clock tonight?” Marcus suggested, and they all agreed.

“Be careful at that school,” Pete said, “If Bob the bog and ‘orrible Owen were killed by the Berserker, there will still be cops swarming that place.”

“We’ll be okay,” Wilson said with a wry smile, “We know a way in.”

They all went their own ways to collect what they needed, and they all returned safe at 7 o'clock.