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Stakes

Steadfast. Fierce. As if a force of nature. Her clothes billowing behind her in the icy breeze in the deep, grim countryside and, before her, a barrier barring her from her goal. She charged ahead, heroic and bold and, with a determined grunt, she lifted her leg and kicked with all her might... manifesting a dull thud as she fell flat on her back.

It was as impressive as it was realistic for a girl just shy of six stone in weight and only five feet tall could achieve. Her much taller and broader companion jogged up behind. “Bernie, you good?" he queried and held out his hand. “Come on, we tried. Let's actually do what we said we were going to do and go to for a meal. You've been poked and prodded enough the last few months that I don't want to waste some actual time alone together."

Bernie growled under her breath, steamy vapour billowing out her nose in impotent fury, and adjusted her deep red bandana, but said nothing.

Her friend retracted his hand and knelt down beside her. “You sure you're okay?"

She looked up at him with a pout. “No," she grumbled, but he gingerly reached for her again to make sure. Bernie threw up her arms in defiance as she added, “bloody hell, Liam. Not like that. Look, I'm fine, honest." She struggled to her feet, wincing as her spindly legs supported her. “Just pissed off."

Liam sighed a cloud of his own before giving the location, the subject of Bernie's ire, another once-over.

A large metal and barbed wire capped fence surrounded the whole facility, stretching off either side and away for acres around, but they stood before a large, plain concrete building with a chintzy plastic roof shaped like a Viking longhouse. One edge of the structure had a section of wood cladding to blend with the Norse aesthetic, with the obvious plan for more but, exposed to the elements, several boards had fallen away. Everything about the place was incomplete and as miserable as the weather, though maybe not as much as Bernie.

“I told you it was closed. Like, indefinitely?" Liam pulled out his phone and began scrolling a website. “Last time I heard anything about the legal situation was six months ago." He finished checking one of his tabs and shrugged. “Yep. Still in limbo. Bloody typical, trying to turn a location of historical significance into a tourist trap would piss off the Royal Historical Society and-"

“Me!" Bernie snapped and rattled the door handle, then peered through the window. “Seriously. We aren't going back until we find a way in there."

“It's one thing for me to get you out of hospital to go for a meal, but I've gotta draw the line at breaking and entering."

Bernie paused from her leering through the meshed, reinforced glass and gave Liam a cock-eyed glance.

Liam's shoulders slumped. “Okay, wait, I meant breaking and entering without good reason."

“Uh-huh." Her voice and expression were equally mocking, but at least she was perking up.

He rolled his eyes. “Fuck me, Bernie, You know what I mean. This ain't abandoned. Not long term, anyway."

Bernie giggled at her victory as she resumed looking inside the building. Stacks of chairs, tables, cardboard boxes, an incomplete reception desk with a stack of fliers covered in Nordic imagery like axes, and random runes as well as distinctly inaccurate articles like horned helmets. The doors inside weren't all fitted, which added salt to the wound that was the secure front entrance. After a few moments scrutiny, Bernie added, “there's something here. Something big. I know it."

“Well aware. You've kept on about it for weeks."

“'Cause it's true, himbo!" Bernie turned around and pouted at Liam, acting more akin to a girl her size rather than her age. “The bloody tosspot owner doesn't even know what he's got."

Liam shook his head. “And you do? It's probably just a hole in the ground. Maybe a few grave markers, but there's no way the landowner's sitting on a proper Viking burial ground."

“That and more." Bernie said and pulled out her phone. “Look."

She presented Liam with a picture of a stone-archway barrow within a freshly dug patch of earth, and even runes etched in the doorway still smothered and smeared in mud. He looked from the screen to Bernie. “You sure that's here? Looks kinda like the one over in Anglesey."

“Yeah, except those were all above ground and this one's only just been exposed. This pic was tied to a post about how there's supposed to be more beneath the hillock, dated just two days ago. Plus this," she swiped on her phone and brought up a close up of another Norse rune. Only the left half was visible, but what could be seen looked like a backwards letter K, but the lower portion was extended and connected back to the middle.

Liam whistled, impressed. “Is that a berserker rune? Alright, that's pretty cool. But you're certain it's here? Where'd the picture come from?"

“Someone broke what I assume was an NDA, showing off for 'net clout and whatever. Naturally the owner had it taken down but as they say, the internet is forever. A little wayback magic and here we are, clear evidence of some actual history to be made!" Bernie smugly waved her phone in Liam's face. “Eh? Eh? I know that look. You're on board now, right? Come on, if we can't get through the side gate, work your magic on this door."

Bernie was right. This place suddenly had a glow to it that pulled the deepest passion he'd ever had, and that was working out the stories about... well, anything unknown or lost to time.

There were a bunch of historical and mythical things the pair had bonded over through the last six years they'd known each other, everything from cryptids, haunted spots and burial sites to simple things like finding small stories about abandoned properties.

Liam had no choice but to realise those pictures were likely the real deal, and that meant there was a reason he was here. Bernie didn't exactly get out much, so she had ample time to chase up every rumble and rumour online, so she was generally spot on. The idea of an ignorant landowner sitting on a well preserved Viking berserker's funeral barrow and converting into a tourist resort was boggling, and the fact the government had stopped development meant this really was a one in a million chance.

He was practically salivating as he switched from finding excuses to not break in all the way to full adventure mode. Liam rolled his eyes as the last of his resistance faded, internally prepared himself for this escapade. “Well, fuck. Fine. Just watch out for any signs of life." He snooped around the gravel parking lot and scouted anything amiss.

Liam quickly ruled out too much interference from the dual carriageway that they'd used to get here. Far enough from any urban areas, no visible houses. Cars could see the fence but trees blocked any close scrutiny of the main building until they were literally driving by the entrance to the parking area. He'd even parked his old panel van near the trees to add extra cover. Certain they shouldn't be interrupted, he once again looked down the side of the building to the construction crew access.

While this side gate seemed less risky, the clever bastards had blocked it in with a digger, so Liam re-examined the front door. Not so much the wood and glass itself rather than any traces of an alarm system. The lack of security company signs meant little considering how ramshackle this whole place was, but the equal lack of a glass breaking sensors on the exterior gave him hope, even if the panes were clearly reinforced and the door's solid wood was bracketed and braced with metal. Easy pickings. He just needed his tools.

Bernie shivered in a combination of cold and excitement as Liam jogged back to his van, opened the side door and rooted around with a clatter of metal and scuffed cardboard as he dug through assorted camping supplies and outdoor kit. He opened his jacket and slipped a sheathed knife into his coat, along with a lighter and a small pocket torch. He then picked up and returned to Bernie with a long leather case filled with lock picks, tension wrenches, screwdrivers and other necessities. With another study of the new lock, he took out a bump key and a screwdriver before slipping the case into his coat pocket.

He tested the jagged-toothed key in the opening a few times, pushing and pulling it in and out while giving it a few turns before settling on fully inserting it, then pulling it a tiny bit back and applied a small, steady turning pressure. He gave the key a solid whack with the grip of the screwdriver and, to his surprise, the lock turned. “Tight-wad, this fucker, ain't he?"

“Well, sucks to be him," Bernie said and clapped her hands. “Your secrets are ours, arseholes!"

“Bernie, keep it down and chill! And get ready to run if you hear anything." Liam turned the handle and let the door swing open as he replaced his tools. The pair froze for a few seconds, listening for any sounds of alarm or movement inside, but all they could hear was the creak and clink of the metal fencing in the stiff winter breeze. Assured, they entered.

Liam closed the door behind them, checking the road through the window in case anyone had seen them enter, then turned back to the current room. He half expected Bernie to have rushed ahead, but she slumped against one of the tables. He asked, “having a turn?"

She smiled, but her eyes couldn't quite reach his as she swayed to and fro. “Y-yeah. Gimme a sec. Just a little zonked out. I'm... fine..."

Liam approached, but she swayed too far back for comfort. By instinct he dashed in and caught her before she fell, and held her firmly. “No, you're not." He gulped at how light she felt compared to when he touched her this way last. A few years back, before she fell ill, Bernie had always been delicate but present thanks to her energy, but now she was barely there. She felt weightless, as if just skin wrapped around a skeleton. Probably too close to the truth and growing truer by the day.

Bernie leaned into him, slowly gathering her feet beneath her. As soon as she did, Liam pulled a chair off a stack and set it down. Her spirit wanted to fight and resist, but the body did not respond, so she relented and dropped onto the seat. “Thanks... just overdue some meds is all."

“You're not doing your condition any favours," he said as he glanced around and listened for a moment as Bernie recovered. Again, no signs of life and no sounds of movement. The legal limbo of the place was giving them privacy.

“Just trying to burn twice as bright... and half as long, you know?" Bernie forced a smile and took out some glucose tablets from a pack and started chewing on them. “Better do shit now before I can't even get out of bed." She then produced a pill bottle and popped a couple.

Liam gulped and squinted to try and resist the wetness in his eyes. “All the more reason I don't want you taking any risks. I don't know if I'm ready yet."

The grin fell from Bernie's thin lips as she swallowed the pills. For a second Liam thought she was having another episode, but it was just his words forcing her to stop. She sniffled and looked away, unable to answer.

Liam covered his mouth as the shame hit him, then ran his hand around to the back of his neck. “Shit, I didn't want to make it sound like it was about me, I meant-"

“I know. Relax. I- I get it." Bernie sighed and settled back into the plastic chair. “Situation's just all crap. But I still want to do... something, you know? I don't wanna be just a 'here lies Bernadette Fothergill, she lived, rip,' kinda girl."

“You don't need to be famous either. Not to me. Not after the shit you pulled me out of."

They shared a glance. So much more was transmitted in that moment than the years of text and voice chats that formed the thread that bound them together. Depressions. Familial strife. Loss. All the ways young people can fall, when hormones and youth make the puddle of life feel as deep as an ocean. Yet when real life strikes everything gains perspective, including just how deep the water goes. Bernie was frail now, sure, but back then, and before he knew her beyond the online handle, she was his rock. She saved his life.

“I keep saying it was fine," Bernie replied. “You'd do the same for me. I mean, shit, the whole fact you're here, with me, right now? When you talked my parents into letting me leave the hospital on a date? You're letting me have one last shot at achieving something properly historic here."

Liam scoffed. “Sure, but that'll only get us so far. I had to tell them what restaurant we were heading to just in case. Plus, considering you can't eat solids, there's only so long we can say you're still drinking soup. We've probably got a couple of hours tops before they start calling. Or just call the boys in blue because they think I've ran away with you."

“Eh, not for the first time, right? Remember Canterbury cathedral?"

“Too well." With a chuckle, Liam nodded as he pulled out his phone. “Right, if we're going balls deep on this, I guess I might as well document it for the guys online."

Bernie shook her head, the colour slowly returning to her cheeks. “That's the ticket," she said, snide and smug. “Document some evidence for if we get caught!"

“Like I give two shits what the cops think." Liam opened his camera app, lifted the phone to eye height and tapped record. “Hey all, ParanormaLiam here with a special episode of 'Where Others Fear to Tread!' I've got something different than my usual urban exploring routine for this episode, because I'm reporting from a few miles outside of Weymouth, Dorset, at the now infamous digging site," he paused and pointed to the audience. “If you've followed the channel in the last few months, you know the one I'm talking about. It's been in the local news and I've covered it in a few vlogs, not too far away from the Cerne Abbas giant. But yeah, I figured I'd go plumb its depths and see if there's anything exciting down below."

“That's what she said," Bernie chimed in.

“Damn right," Liam chuckled, briefly turning the camera around so Bernie could appear in the shot. “You all know my editor, researcher, close friend and massive pain in the arse, GrimGremlin."

She punctuated her online tag with a pair of two finger peace signs before twisting them into middle fingers.

Liam turned the camera back towards himself with an incredulous shake of his head. “She'll be joining me on this one but, without further ado, let's go deeper and see what we unearth. Where others fear to tread." He turned off the recording.

“I'm ready whenever you are," Bernie said and stood, a little shaky but looking determined.

To be safer rather than sorry, Liam put his arm around her as they poked through the other rooms. They were mostly unfurnished, but a few had the start of fixtures and fittings in place, like filing cabinets and shelves.

The pair found their way into a larger room that been set up as a cafeteria, which Liam assumed was both to cater for the construction crew before the location opened and served visitors afterwards due to the presence of powered fridges and stains on the surfaces. Beyond, past two large viewing windows and a set of double doors, that was their prize. The fenced off half-dozen acres of land that contained the burial barrow and the surrounding fields.

Bernie jogged ahead and looked through the glass, glancing side to side before Liam caught up. They could see a few small tarpaulin covered diggers and earthmovers, skips filled with dirt and rocks. Beyond the modernity, and what caught both their gazes at once, was a bauta. A standing stone, weather worn but with traces of old engravings and patterns still visible on its surface.

Bernie gasped. “This is it..."

Liam took a picture before heading for the double-doors and tested them, but they were locked. He once more used the bump key but, after a few moments without success, moved over to a pick and wrench. “Skimped on the front door it seems, but this feels more like a proper one."

“Maybe they weren't trying to keep us out," Bernie said, adding a deeper rasp to her voice. “But to keep something in!" She cackled maniacally.

“Viking berserker ghosts?" Liam puckered his lips and whistled. “I can think of worse things to encounter, but not many. Let's just hope not."

“So what you're saying is they'd rank low on the, 'mythical entities I'd love to fuck,' index, huh?"

Liam coughed to resist laughing. “Putting it mildly, yes."

Bernie chuckled back. She didn't believe in the paranormal, but respected that Liam did. Not to say that he was gullible or with his head in the clouds but he certainly didn't risk getting arrested for trespassing in old buildings for mere views for his web series. He'd experienced some spooky stuff in his years, things he couldn't explain. Sure, Bernie had seen the footage as she edited it for him, and believed his reactions to odd goings on were genuine, but it was a 'I believe that you believe it,' level of recognition. She reasoned that most unsettling events were due to Liam's presence. The deathly stillness being broken by his steps, air flowing where it hadn't moved for a long time and such.

Then there were those terrestrial encounters. Times he ran into junkies, local chavs and troublemakers breaking stuff for kicks, and the more temperamental homeless objecting to his presence or the fact he was recording their dwellings. There was a reason Bernie wasn't afraid of running into anyone here. Liam knew how to handle himself. He'd been in as many fights as he had arrests, and Liam had a rap sheet a few pages long. Not to mention the blade in his jacket, a bitter memento of an even more bitter life that he kept as a last resort.

The lock rattled and turned, and Liam replaced his tools and opened the door to a rush of icy cold air. Wishing to keep active out of fear of being caught as much as warding off the cold, they both first approached the bauta and took some recordings of the roughly hewn angles and their patchy, worn carvings. With a bigger prize of the barrow supposedly close by, they headed deeper into the field.

The ground was frozen and uneven from the construction vehicles' passage. Liam winced as the chopped and solid mud cracked and snapped underfoot, forcing them to take a slower approach. More and more piles of shifted earth were scattered about as they followed the broad tyre tracks. “They don't give two shits about the significance of this tomb, do they? Proper care of construction equipment is great and all, but the irreplaceable landmark? Nah, just do a bodge job."

Bernie rubbed her mittened hands together as she kept up with his longer strides. “Yeah, but we knew that already. The dumb git's fighting the government for that very reason. As much as I hate to say it, I'd rather the nonces in office take over so at least it'll be protected. Well, after we discover something cool first and get our name in the history books, of course."

“True, but I was expecting him to protect his investment at least. Trucking and moving this much material around a fragile underground tomb? Might as well buy a genuine Clarice Cliff vase and bung it in a dish washer."

Bernie shivered as they pressed on, and Liam pulled her closer, then wrapped his arm around her. She looked up at him.

“Just for warmth," he whispered. It wasn't even half a lie. Just his head resisting his heart.

“Yeah, sure. Thanks." Bernie didn't believe herself. She kept trying to look away, to make it as casual as his excuse, but couldn't. The yearning had never faded.

They stared at each other for a moment, then dead ahead in unison as the air between them grew heavy. Memories of one another in better times flickering in their minds and distracting them from the now.

Bernie sighed and fought back the bitterness. She had to protect him, so that when the inevitable happened maybe he'd be spared any deeper harm. Right now, she had an objective, and she had to meet it. She felt herself fading fast being in the cold, even walking and talking was a drain, but it would be worth it. It had to be worth it.

Reaching the middle of the fenced hillock yielded the prize at last, as well as where most of the vehicles had converged. The barrow had been further unearthed from the picture, but more signs of neglect were revealed as the runes around the entrance had been painted in black to make them stand out.

“Bloody hell, really? This prat's got no class," Liam said. “Tacky don't even begin to cover it."

Bernie didn't reply, and instead stared at the darkness within the barrow entrance. She took out a headlamp from her coat and pulled off her bandana, exposing the peach-fuzz of red hair that did little to cover her scalp, the hair loss from her last, final and failed treatment. She strapped the light on over her head and entered the barrow, with Liam following soon after while attaching a clip-on light to his breast pocket.

Inside was a single large chamber with scattered standing industrial lamps though they weren't powered. A stone sarcophagus rested in the middle, beneath a central standing bauta that almost reached the ceiling, in turn surrounded by an assortment of smaller ones akin to graves, along with digging tools and an area cordoned off by the tall and narrower traffic cone-style markers used around construction sites, wrapped with striped black and yellow tape. Above the marked off area was a cracked ceiling caked with moss and moisture formed into a small, dirty and dripping icicle.

They both started taking pictures. Bernie said, “at least they don't seem to have got too far in here," She began examining the sarcophagus. “Not a typical burial ground either. These certainly don't look like a stone ship style of Viking land burials. They're a bit confined in here and not the right shape. I wonder if these belong to Brittonic thralls?"

Liam knelt beside the central tomb, looking it over for any sort of markings. “I'm not a boffin on this but this don't seem usual either. Maybe the locals buried the guy and didn't know the usual Viking rituals? Obviously they must have known something about him, but not enough to make it a proper job."

“Considering how well made the runes were on the barrow entrance, tacky as fuck paint notwithstanding, that wouldn't explain the tomb as a whole though. It's too big and elaborate to not mean something important." Bernie wandered over to the taped off area. She dipped through the black and yellow strips and squinted at the stones within. “Hey, Liam. Look. These stones have something cut into them."

Liam stood from the central sarcophagus and headed over, only for Bernie to gasp and raise her hands. He asked, “what's wrong?"

She glanced at him, then down, only for the flat stone under her feet to crack and collapse. Liam dashed and dived for her, managing to reach and grab her wrist, but his momentum was too great as he slipped over the weakened stone, which tumbled and dragged them both into the black.