Reluctant Berserker: Isaacson Trilogy Book One

Chapter 31

Relying on his and Ulric's ability to sense one another, Gunnar stealthily traversed the ravaged buildings and shadows, quietly killing those who stood in his way to finding his brothers. He wanted to shout his happiness when he discovered Ulric and Esmund sitting within a cage of warped iron bars, thirty feet away from the burning sheriff's office, bound by thick chains that were wrapped several times around their bodies.

Shadows danced around them, helping Gunnar stay hidden as he crept over and found their arms lashed tightly to their sides, causing their hands to turn purple from the lack of circulation. More chains wrapped their feet and bound them to their makeshift prison, which appeared even sturdier than the actual jail had been.

"Is Father with you?" Ulric mouthed.

Gunnar shook his head, unable to speak from the emotion tightening his throat. Only once they had saved Nora and dealt with Morgan and Norbert would he inform them of their father's passing. Holding a finger to his lips, he urged them to silence and popped a berry into his mouth. The euphoric rush of strength assaulted him with such force he smiled and luxuriated in the feeling of his senses sharpening. Eliciting a growl, Gunnar glanced around to ensure there were no intruders and broke the chains at his brother's feet.

He waited to hear if anyone was coming to investigate, then crept behind and snapped the chains from around Esmund's upper body with a flex of his muscles. The chains dropped to the ground with a muffled clatter just as footsteps approached. Gunnar moved on soundless feet and hid in the shadows, slowly creeping toward the intruder.

The man walked around the corner of the burning building and straight into Gunnar's grasp. Before the man could even think of sounding an alarm, Gunnar crushed his throat and dumped his body in the shadows.

With quick and efficient movements, Gunnar broke the remaining chains and freed Ulric, letting the chains fall unnoticed. He held out his tin of berries for Ulric and Esmund to take one and then waited for them to grab up any weapons at their disposal. Nodding that they were ready, all three moved in separate directions and into the darkness.

Gunnar took up his position and saw that Nora knelt before the stump of wood with one of Morgan's hands twisted within her hair, forcing her head back at an unnatural angle. No fear was written on her face, only deadly calm as she stared into the darkness ahead. Suddenly, a man walked into view and stopped six feet away from Nora.

Recognition slowly knotted in Gunnar's gut when he realized he'd seen the man twice before, once at the train station with the dead group of Berserkers and then again when the man rode past the sheriff's office on his dappled gray mount the day Mother died. Staring at him now, Gunnar knew without a doubt that this man was none other than Norbert Jensen.

He was dressed smartly in an expertly tailored suit that showed its quality. His shoes were of the finest leather and polished to a high shine, reflecting the glow of the fire around him. Norbert wore his curly, dark blonde hair parted down the middle of his head in an unattractive style. It framed his aggressively angled face and drew attention to his penetrating eyes. Thick mutton-chop sideburns met with a handlebar mustache, giving him the appearance of a proper gentleman rather than an escaped convict.

"You've got the look of your mother," Norbert said. The threat of danger laced his voice, yet it had a pleasing quality. It was precisely the voice a spider would have, luring its prey to their death.

Gunnar searched the surrounding darkness for any sign of his brothers, biting back a growl when they were still not in view. Precious time to save Nora was slipping away. He would wait a few minutes longer, and then, if they were still nowhere in sight, he'd go ahead without them.

Nora held her tongue but spoke of her loathing for the man with the heated glare she leveled at him.

Norbert clucked his tongue, "I don't blame you for any hard feelings you may have toward me." He ran a hand down the side of her face, trailing the scar he had given her. "You may not believe me, but I find that I'm pleased I failed to take your life that night."