by C. G Harris
Zoe looked up at me. I expected to see anger or maybe even shame in her eyes, but I found neither. She had an almost pitying expression as she tilted her head to speak.
"You know I love you. I appreciate everything you have done for me. I couldn't have survived without you, but I can't stay anymore."
"What do you mean you can't—"
Zoe held up a hand to stop me.
"I can't subscribe to the morals you hold any longer. I can't stand by while you lecture me on maintaining the status quo. I'm not saying those choices can't be right for you. I'm only saying they aren't right for me."
She stepped in on her tiptoes and kissed me on the cheek.
"Don't worry about your shop. Meg and Jazzy are very good at running the place. I haven't mentioned it to you, but they have pretty much taken over while I worked on ... other things."
"Zoe, this is crazy. You can't just—"
She put a finger to my lips and then reached around to give me a hug. "Don't make this an argument. I want us to part as friends. Thanks for coming. It means a lot to me. I'm glad I got to share this moment with you."
She stood back, paused a minute, then turned to leave, marching out into the firestorm like a bubble in water.
"Wait. Where are you going? When will you be back?"
Zoe turned around but kept walking backward, continuing to withdraw. "I can't tell you where I'm going. It's for your own good. As for when I'll be back ..." She shrugged. "Maybe sometime, maybe never. Doesn't change how I feel about you. Thanks again for everything. Don't worry about me. I'll be all right. And if I'm not, know that whatever happens is my choice."
She smiled, blew me a kiss, and turned to walk away, disappearing into the storm like a bird into the clouds.
Chapter Forty-One
The firestorm had subsided by the time I pedaled my way back to Hula Harry’s. Shock and guilt coursed through me. I took the long way back, using every moment to think about what I could have done differently, how I could have kept Zoe from going, or how I could have stopped her from repeating her apartment building massacre all over again. I should have done more. If I had been staying at the shop instead of at The Agency, I would have been there for her and could have prevented this from happening. She needed a friend, and I failed.
I still couldn't fully comprehend or even understand what she had done. Yes, many of the Woebegone in the Wax Worx deserved what they got, but the Disposables in the Skin Quarries hadn’t. I knew they would come back in time, but Zoe had willfully sent them to unspeakable torture. The Sulfur Pools were a fate worse than death. That's what made the Disposable handlers such horrible monsters. It wasn't just the terrible things they made the Disposables do—all the murder, rape, torture—but the handler's willingness to recycle their Disposables through the Gnashing Fields over and over again that made them truly heartless.
Even though a Woebegone would only vanish for a couple of weeks by our perception, to them it would be lifetimes of unending anguish and misery. The torment was so complete that when a Woebegone emerged, they didn't even know their name. They had no identity or recollection of who they were. The agony tore away all memory, at least for a while, leaving a Freshborn vulnerable to be taken advantage of again. Thus, the cycle of the Disposable was born.
Zoe did have one thing right. The Disposables in that warehouse would be free of the cycle. At least as far as The Skin Quarries were concerned. They would not be back to collect them from the Sulfur Pools. That did not mean some enterprising lowlife wouldn't take their place. This was The Nine. Fill in one cesspool, and you're just digging the hole for another one to form. It never stopped.
I pulled up to Hula Harry's, the only ray of sunshine in this crotch rot of a universe. Dan had a great thing going. A little slice of Heaven among a heaping plate full of Hell.
I swung my leg over my tricycle and reached down to retrieve the shield generator. The firestorm was over, but it would not be good to leave it lying around for someone to steal, or worse, report. The last thing I needed right now was more trouble. All I wanted to do was go inside and make peace with Alex for leaving her behind. Once she settled down, or twisted my nose off, I could tell her what had happened and drown my sorrows in a triple shot of root beer.
As soon as I opened the door to the bar, I knew that plan was out the window. I hurried over and set the generator down on the bar, then joined Alex and Dan at one of his tables. They were the only two people in the place, and it was clear why.
Dan looked like he had been worked over by an industrial meat grinder and stamped back into a Dan shaped patty. He was broken, bleeding, and bruised in almost any way you could imagine. I wasn't even sure how he could still be breathing.
"What happened?"
Alex shot me glare that would slice Kevlar in two.
"What do you care? Did you have a nice ride through the storm?"
I stared back at her, without even flinching. I had left to protect her. If she wanted to be pissed about that, let her. At this point, I couldn't care less if she was mad.
"Zoe's gone. She destroyed the Wax Worx and the Skin Quarries, along with killing every handler, patron, and Disposable inside. Then she took off. I doubt we'll ever see her again." Saying it all out loud made it feel like a punch in the gut.
Alex stared at me, mouth half open in shock.
"How did she—"
I pointed to the shield generator I'd left on the bar. "She took out all their protection. The firestorm did the rest. When I found her, she was watching the show."
Alex lost her sharp glare, and her eyes went to the ground. "I can't believe it. Especially after we found out about—"
"I know," I said, cutting her off. "Part of me thinks we should have expected something like this, not assume she had changed."
We all sat there for a moment. Alex and I in silence, Dan wheezing in agony.
"So, are you going to tell me what happened here?"
Alex glanced over at Dan. He didn't react more than to look away from her when she made eye contact.
"Just so you know, we're not done talking about how you left me." Alex shot me a hard look then softened her eyes and turned back to Dan. "He went out to make the drop as arranged but his—associate—had a change of heart."
"Bastards snuck up on me from behind." Dan's voice sounded thick and garbled as if his mouth were full of cotton. "Bunch of clowns."
I shook my head. "What kind of lowlifes hit one guy from behind? Did you see what any of them looked like?"
Dan raised an eyebrow on his swollen face. "Yeah. I just told you. They were a bunch of clowns."
I blinked. "Wait, you mean they were literally a band of face-painted circus freaks?"
Dan bobbed his head and then winced at the action. "That's what I'm telling you. They worked me over, took the painting, then said Gastrith would be back at midnight to tear the place down. I guess his protection plan had an expiration date.”
I let that sink in for a few seconds while Alex did her best to keep Dan comfortable. I closed my eyes, took a few breaths, then stood, grabbing a nearby glass and threw it across the room.
It hit one of the shelves behind the bar and shattered not only itself, but also a half empty bottle of Bacardi Rum. I wanted more things to throw, more things to break, but in a bar made of steel, there weren't many options. I stood up and hurled my chair in the opposite direction, taking a few tables and chairs with it, then I drove my fist into the tabletop in front of me several times, ignoring the pain that shot up my wrist and all the way into my arm.
I waited for Alex to chastise me for my tirade, but she just sat there next to Dan, rubbing his hand.
"Thanks," Dan said, after a few minutes of watching me huff over the table. "I wanted to do that, but my thumbs don't work."
I coughed out a laugh, then Dan and Alex let out a bout of tense laughter as well.
"So, now what do we do?" I said, still too frustrated to find a chair and sit down again.
&
nbsp; "There's nothing we can do." Alex offered a sympathetic smile as if she were giving a family terminal news about a loved one. "We can't fight a demon, especially a high-level demon. They're too powerful. We would be like ants on a log to him. All we can do is get out of the way and hope he doesn't decide to come after us. After that stunt we pulled at the warehouse, we'll be lucky if all he does is tear the bar down."
"You mean ..."
Dan nodded. "It was all Gastrith's idea in the first place. That was his warehouse. He already had the painting. He just wanted us to give it back."
My hands went to my mouth, and I started to sit down, even though there was no longer a chair to sit on behind me.
Alex rushed around and slid one under my butt as my balance teetered, and I crashed onto the seat thinking about all the damage I had caused to that warehouse. Because of me, Bug Face had utterly destroyed the place and everything in it. If Gastrith got his hands on me, he would drag me through a razorblade forest and dip me in lemon wedges. Alex was right. If he just tore down the bar, we should count ourselves lucky. But I was never one to depend on luck.
"We should get out of here." I did my best to sound concerned and understanding, but underneath, my nerves were on fire with urgency. I looked at Dan. "You can stay at my shop tonight ... for as long as you like. We'll settle you in there, then you and I should head back to the Agency before tall, clown, and ugly comes looking for us. The more distance we can put between us and Dan, the better. Maybe Gastrith will think we were acting on our own."
Alex pulled her lips into a thin line and shook her head. "Not likely. Why would he think we were trying to steal the painting on our own?"
I shrugged. "I know it's thin, but it is all we have. At least Dan should be safe in my shop tonight. I doubt anyone will find him there."
Alex agreed and stood up. "Come on, bruiser. Let's get you moving. You can sit on Gabe's wonder trike, and we'll push you."
Dan stood up with a little help from Alex and shook his head. "I am not getting on that thing. I may be hurt, but I still have my dignity."
Alex snorted out a laugh.
"Fine," I said. "That's the thanks I get for putting you up in my place."
Dan put an arm over Alex's shoulder, and I hurried over so he could put his other one over mine. "If I have a choice between riding that silly-cycle and staying here, I would rather take my chances here."
Alex laughed again. "I'm glad to see they couldn't bruise your sense of humor."
We were just about to walk out the door when I paused. "Hold on a second."
I made sure Dan was situated on Alex for balance, then I hurried back to the storeroom. When I came out, I had the shield generator along with the small transport device Alex and I had installed that allowed Dan to receive his stock of precious soda from the School for the Blind.
"Can't have these falling into the wrong hands." The finality of removing the transport device hit home in a way walking out the door had not. Those clowns may not have bruised his sense of humor, but I had just hit him where it hurt. His sense of reality. Taking that transporter meant it was over. This place, his endeavor to add a ray of hope to this nightmare, was finished.
I wanted to tell him it wasn't. I wanted to tell him not to lose hope, but I couldn't. The idea I had playing out in my brain was too crazy—even for me to believe in. Besides, if I told Dan I planned to come back and do battle with that demon, Alex would want to come with me, and I couldn't allow that. Suicide was one thing. Hauling your partner along for the ride was another. She would be furious when I left her a second time, but there was nothing to be done about it. I just hoped my ace in the hole would come out to help me play.
Chapter Forty-Two
I had no idea if demons ever slept. I didn't know if they had to eat, rest, workout, or tell jokes to keep their demon spirits from getting down in the dumps. I just knew every time I visited Judas's office, Procel stood in that same spot in the corner like an immovable pillar of granite. I had spoken to him on a few occasions. Mostly when he came to collect me for Judas, which involved many ... many threats of bodily harm. This time, however, I hoped Procel had a softer side, or at least one I could bargain with.
After we dropped Dan off at my shop, Alex and I headed back to the Agency to turn in for the night. I, however, headed straight for the top floor of Judas's building. Much to my surprise, Judas's secretary still sat at her desk, diligently marking, stamping, and sorting paperwork of some kind. Anything to ensure she did not have to turn her attention to me.
If she was here, it could mean Judas was here as well. If that were the case, I might as well walk out the top story window right now. He would not appreciate any part of my plan to save Hula Harry's, and he'd like my idea to involve his bodyguard even less. Oh well. I walked all the way to Piranha Lake to go skinny dipping; I could at least test the water.
As I approached, his secretary eyed me without saying a word, still shuffling and sorting papers on her desk without looking at them.
"What can I do for you Mr. Gantry?"
"Hi ... hello. I'm just wondering if the big guy is in. I know it's a little late but—"
"It is very late. No one in their right mind would be in the office at this hour, including Mr. Iscariot."
I paused, not sure whether that meant he was out or that he was in and she was disgruntled about it. She must have picked up on my confusion because she sighed and looked down at her desk again.
"No, he is not in. I'm sure he'll be here bright and early in the morning, as will I, but I think we both know you aren't interested in talking to Mr. Iscariot."
I stared at her trying to work my mouth into some sort of response.
"Don't bother with an excuse. As I believe I have mentioned before, I am Judas Iscariot's personal assistant. I know why you're here. It's my job to know pretty much everything; although, I find it prudent to withhold some details from Mr. Iscariot ... for his own good. He likes to break things, and I don't like to clean up his office after he hears about half-witted attempts to save a useless establishment from destruction."
She held up a crumpled piece of paper and waved it in the air. All I saw were the words memo and Hula Harry's.
"How did you ..."
"The answer would literally make your brain explode. Your opportunity to enlist some assistance is about to leave. You can either waste time talking to me or get in there and do what you came here to do."
She stopped sorting papers and peered at me over her horn-rimmed glasses.
"Someday," I pointed at her, "you and I are going to have a long and meaningful conversation."
She went back to her paperwork as I backed away from her desk and headed for Judas's office door. "Not so far as I can tell, Mr. Gantry."
I wanted to say something else, but I had a feeling I would lose my opportunity to talk to Procel if I did, so I turned around and raised my hand to knock on the door instead.
As usual, the door opened on its own, and I walked in, peeking around the corner, not quite convinced that his secretary had told me the truth.
Sure enough, Judas's empty desk was flanked by a very tall demon on one side and another, smaller, much more scary predatory demon opposite him. Judas himself was absent.
I didn't want to plead my case in front of Mastema, but there was nothing to be done about it. I doubted Procel would be up for a chat at the local coffee shop. I walked in, eyeing her as she tracked me crossing the room. It unnerved me the way she did that with a blindfold on. She knew it too by the way she grinned while she did it.
When I got to Judas's desk, I edged in Procel's direction and lowered my voice hoping only he would be able to hear me.
"Hey there, big guy. I hope I haven't caught you sleeping or anything." I smiled trying to break some of the tension. Procel did not look down, grin, or even flinch in my direction. He just stood there like a winged mountain of detachment.
"Yeah ... well, I came here to ask a favor. It's a pretty big one, so
feel free to say no—"
"No."
Procel's voice boomed throughout the office like a cannon going off. I ducked like I was being assaulted with machinegun fire.
"Wait, hold on. You haven't even heard what the favor is yet."
"It does not matter. You told me I was free to say no."
I pinched the bridge of my nose while Procel stood there mountainous as ever.
"All right. Wait until I ask the favor first, then please give me an honest answer."
I looked up at him. His face was deadpan as ever, but he didn't say anything. So I took that as an invitation to continue.
"I have a friend, a very good friend, who is about to be assaulted unjustly by a high-level Hellion. I'm willing to fight for him, but I think we both know how that's going to turn out. This guy is trying to do good down here, and that's what we’re about, right? Trying to do the right thing? Why can't we do it in The Nine once in a while too?"
No reaction. Not even a blink. Did he ever blink?
"If you help me, I'll promise you anything you want. You can ask anything of me, and I won't refuse. I will owe you any favor to be repaid at any time. I would offer the same to anyone who would help, it means that much to me, but I am here offering it to you. What do you say?"
Procel stared out over my head as if I weren't there, the way he always did, so I jumped up and down a little and waved to try and get his attention. "Hello, did you hear me? Do we have a deal?"
Procel glanced down at me and took a breath. I held mine, waiting for his answer.
"No."
The air came out of my lungs like a burst balloon. "No? What do you mean no? I just promised everything but my soul to you, and you say no?"
"That is correct. The answer is no."
I stood in front of him, mouth agape, not knowing what else to say.
"Could you give me a reason why?"
"It is not my place to meddle in the affairs of other Hellions."
"What do you mean?" I all but shouted in exasperation. "That is pretty much your job description. You slink around in the dark and collect information so schleps like me can stop bad things from happening." I looked him up and down. "Although, how you manage to sneak anywhere is beyond me."