by Alcy Leyva
“My sister? Petty was here?”
Shocked by our reaction, Shuu backed away. “Well, yes. I-I just sent her down. N-not a minute ago.”
“Down?” Palls stepped right in front of the small Asian fusion/coffee house/bed and breakfast owner of Limbo. “Down where?”
Sensing an impending ass whooping, Shuu ducked behind his escorts. The two ladies set out their hands and long claws emerged from their fingers like swords. Their bodies began puffing up and hundreds of needles sprouted out of their backs so that they resembled fashionable porcupines.
Seeing Palls wasn’t backing down, the small owner yelled and held his hands up. “A Screech came just a few minutes ago. It said Petunia Grey was to be sent down immediately. So that’s what I did. C’mon. It was a Screech, Palls. You know who’s the only guy who uses Screeches.”
I pushed by Palls, through the pointy women, and got right up in Shuu’s sweaty face so I could bite off each word right in his mug. “Down. Where?”
The man gulped.
“All the way down. The lowest. She was called down to the bottom floor—the Ninth Circle of Hell.”
CHAPTER 7
I dropped myself in a chair and banged my head down on the table so hard it made a hollow sound (the table, not my head).
Following the news of Petty’s fate, Palls grumbled, “Let’s give these two some breathing room.” Before Shuu could disagree, Palls picked him up by the neck like a naughty cat and carried him out, his associates following closely behind. D and Palls met eyes as the doors closed, but neither said a word.
D took a seat next to me and I turned my head slightly to face him. Blowing aside my hair for an unobstructed view of my former roommate, I couldn’t help but notice how freakish he looked up close.
“What’s with…” I made circles around my head in regards to his demon-regalia.
“Oh,” D exclaimed. As if just realizing, he reached up and tore off one of his horns and placed it on the table in front of me, revealing its papier-mâché lining. He then flicked out his red contact and spit out his fangs and placed both of these down on the table.
“You’re wearing a costume?”
“Back in the world of the living, it’s Halloween, Grey.”
“You’re dressed as a demon.”
“Yeah?”
“But you are a demon. Who taught you Halloween rules, buddy? The whole point is that you’re supposed to go as something completely different from what you are.”
D’s eyes opened wide. “You still rant when you’re overstressed, I see.” And then he laughed. I don’t think I’d ever heard D laugh. It was large and blew from his mouth so effortlessly that I forgot what we were talking about.
When he was through, we sat in silence for a bit. I didn’t know where to start, but thank goodness, he already had something in mind. “I don’t mean to put this all on your plate, Grey. I know you’re dealing with a lot.”
“Sorry to break it to you, but my plate’s been full ever since kindergarten,” I replied with a smirk. “Don’t even know what an empty plate feels like so just … bring it on.”
D tapped his finger on the table. “A lot’s changed since you’ve been gone.” It was painfully obvious what he was walking around the edges of, so I just asked. Time to rip off the Band-Aid. “How long has it been, D? When was the last time I saw you?”
D hung his head. “Two years ago.”
I wanted to ask him to repeat himself. Had I heard wrong? Two years? Did he mean two weeks? Two hours?
“Trust me. I understand how this gets knotted up in your head. New York is still New York. A bit weirder since you left, but the coffee’s still bitter and the rent is still high.”
I buried my head in my hands. “Good to hear.”
I could tell by his sigh that D had more to tell me. “Grey, your father isn’t doing too good.”
Even though I felt emotionally spent, this sent a charge through me. “What are you talking about? My mom and dad?”
“It took me some time to find them after you left, but I did. That kid from the Vatican was taking care of them. Your mother cried and cried when I told them about you and Petty. Your father … your father wasn’t the same after that.” D took off his other horn and played with it.
Choking back tears, I told him, “I need to see him before …”
D nodded. “That’s why I came to get you and Petty out of here. I can manage it, busting you out into the real world. It wouldn’t be permanent, you understand? But at least you would be able to see him. You two were supposed to come with me.”
Shuu’s words echoed in my head.
“What does he mean by the bottom floor? Who summoned Petunia down there?”
D, visibly uncomfortable, stood up and started pacing. “The bottom floor of Hell: reserved for the truly damned and … one other being. He hasn’t been seen or heard from directly in centuries, well, not until recently. Those Screeches are his messengers.”
I envisioned the black fleshy birds skimming along the city rooftops. The dark voice spilling out of their beaks.
“The Devil took my sister,” I said slowly.
For whatever reason, D took my words the same way someone would if they’d eaten half a plate of rusted screws. He comically clutched at his stomach.
“Wow. I’m getting this really weird feeling for some reason. It’s weird but oh-so-familiar. Kinda reminds me of the large pit that used to grow in my stomach every time you were about to propose a plan that was absolutely terri—”
“I’m going down to get Petty!”
D snapped his fingers. “There it is!”
“I’m not leaving her behind,” I explained nicely, and by this, I meant I was waiting to punch him in the throat if he gave me lip about it.
Desperate to find a solid point to grasp onto, D tried to reason with me. “What about your father, Grey?”
I took a deep breath and rose from my chair. “You wanted to bring both of us to see him. Both, me and Petty. If I can’t keep Petty safe, then I don’t deserve to face Dad again. I … I think he would understand that. I hope he would.”
D put all of his weight into his knuckles and leaned into the table. Looking me directly in the eyes, he started, “Fine. But just so you know, we’re not talking about a casual afterlife romp here. Don’t forget that once you leave Limbo, you’ll have to navigate an entire city of demons. Then, you have to deal with the hotel sitting in the very throat of hell whose owner, for your information, wants nothing more than to torture your soul for eternity. And all that’s a cakewalk considering what you’re up against in the lower Circles. The Fourth Circle is the stomach that digests the greedy and power hungry, while the River Styx waits to drown the rage-filled souls in the Fifth Circle. I can’t tell you what’s below that, but I’m guessing more torture, more pain, and more desecration of the human mind. And all of this excludes the fact that the absolute embodiment of pure evil, the awakener of lies and sin, stirs at the bottom of this chasm. He’s the one you’ll have to face to get your sister’s soul back.”
I thought about it for a second. “Okay.”
D pinched his nose and yelled, “Cool! So, just for the record, Grey?”
“Yup?”
“Did any of that register at all? The stomach digestion? Torturing your soul? Etcetera, Etcetera.”
“Heard it all.”
“And did any of it scare the living shit out of you?”
“All of it,” I replied with a hearty thumbs-up, “but if the Devil has my sister, then I guess I’ll just have to go get her back.”
It was such a simple response D had no counter for it, so he simply shrugged. As if on cue, Palls walked in. The large man took one look at D and then at me and immediately threw his head back as he rubbed his face.
“You’re going down to get her, aren’t you?�
�� D nodded slowly and I smiled as confidently as I could manage. Palls pointed a finger at me. “This isn’t going to be some cozy picnic, Grey. The moment you get out of Limbo, you’ll have all of New Necro to contend with. After that, it’s—”
But D waved him off. “Save your breath, Palls. I explained it all already.”
“Really? And she still wants to go?” He looked at me sternly, as if he were posing for his Mount Rushmore carving. Then Palls replied, “Fine. I’m going, too. I’ll be waiting up front.”
Then he walked out. Just like that.
I was turning to D to ask what the hell that was about, but the Shade looked as if he had something to say. I didn’t need to be a mind reader to know what it was.
“But listen—”
“No.”
“He knows the city, Grey. Have you seen New Necro? I’ll be the first to admit that you kick a whole lot of ass on your own, Amanda Grey. But this isn’t Queens. This isn’t even Earth. That city is just one of Nine Circles of Hell. Without help, you’ll void out long before you get to Petty. And then what’s all of this for?”
I couldn’t believe D. Having to deal with him partnering up with this madman to pull me out of Hell was one thing, but trusting Palls enough to join us as we dove through Nine Circles of Hell just to save Petty’s soul was a bridge too freaking far.
“Don’t give me that look,” D said, scolding me even though he wasn’t facing me to know what look I was tossing him.
“I have many looks, D. Many! Right now I can’t decide between ‘I’m so screwed’ and ‘Is it too soon to uppercut my ex-roommate’.” I ran my fingers down my face, trying to smooth out the unpleasant thoughts. “Fine. Whatever. My life has been filled with terrible ideas. What’s one more?”
With that, D nodded and started making his way toward the door. That’s when the realization hit: he wasn’t coming with me.
I’d never thought I was going to see D again, let alone think I would feel upset he was leaving. I still had memories of him back when he was a little black carnivorous blob—back when I had no idea whether he was harmless or the Antichrist. I guess he turned out just to be my friend.
Looking back over his shoulder, D read the strain on my face and sighed.
“Just lay low and get through the first Four Circles, Grey. I’ll be waiting on the Fifth to take you the rest of the way down. I promise.”
“Wait,” I shouted, and D froze by the door.
He turned to me slowly.
“Why are you doing this? Why do you want to bring me back?”
D nodded as if this question was one he’d already prepared an answer for. He pushed the doors open and, just before sliding his body through, he winked and responded:
“Because the world just isn’t the same without you, Amanda Grey.”
CHAPTER 8
Palls sat across from me on the train ride back in his now-typical pose: arms crossed, eyes closed, and aura of total irritation. I watched the city of New Necro stream into view again as we slowly made our way down from Limbo. I felt so small compared to the city in front of me, especially knowing this was only the Second Circle of an entire afterlife and there was still a long way down to go.
“Why are some of these stores … actual stores?” I asked as an attempt at small talk.
“They’re not the stores you know,” Palls grumbled, “they’re just marketed that way. For instance, you see that place down there? That place is called ‘Rite Aid.’ We call it that because they poison you when you first walk in and force you to find the right antidote hidden among the two million choices.”
“I see. What about that one? It says ‘H&M’?”
“Stands for ‘Hornets & Mice.’ And before you ask, yes you get to hold the creatures but no, not in your hands.”
Spotting a third one, I added, “Hmm. What do they do to you in the one called ‘Ikea’?”
Palls’ face went as still as a grave. “That’s just an Ikea.”
“Oh.” It made sense.
When we were close to pulling into the station, Palls slapped both of his palms on his knees, a sign he had finally decided to toss some real thoughts my way. “All right, Grey. If this is going to be anywhere near successful, you’ll need to know a thing or two about what’s going on—not only in the city, but in all of Hell.”
I sat up straight. “Let’s do it.”
“The first thing is about the guy in charge. If you’re really going down, just know the Dark Lord doesn’t normally take guests. But ever since your little scuffle with the Shades, he’s gotten more … proactive. And now we have those things.” He pointed to a large pocket of Screeches spewing up from the Maw. “He sends his messengers around, causes chaos. Loves it. Feeds off it. For some reason, also makes hashtags for it. Either way, he has your sister and now you’re going down to meet him face-to-face. Sounds pretty damn stupid to me, but that’s only if you’re asking my opinion.”
I thrust a single finger in the air, and it didn’t take a genius to guess which one. “I’m not.”
Palls continued.
“Second thing you need to know is that you can’t go around punching things when we get inside New Necro. The folks in the city aren’t demons—at least not yet. Humans are housed in the other Circles, but regardless of how the folks of New Necro look, they’re neutral, which means they can be pushed to the light or the dark. They can be monsters, but that’s only if there’s no one to keep them in check.”
Seeing the sternness on his face told me all I needed to know. “Is that what you do, Palls? Like Mason? Like Shuu? You keep them ‘in check.’ You’re the Warden of this Circle of Hell, aren’t you?”
Even though I had figured it out all on my own and kind of thought it was impressive, Gaffrey Palls wore the cold expression of an Easter Island decoration. Looking at what he wore—the trench coat, the hat, the sloppy shirt and tie—he looked like a slovenly detective right out of the pages of a pulp story.
“It’s not an easy gig, keeping this city running. Six hundred and sixty-six blocks, four boroughs, and over a million demons trying to find their way. We got a small crew down here that keeps the peace, folks that help me out. But it still takes a lot out of you. Just when you think you’ve seen it all, this city still finds a way to surprise you.” Palls stared out at the tall skyscrapers, looking weirdly wistful.
Out among the buildings, I spotted a massive creature bounding through the streets. Standing at about eight stories tall, a black wolf stood like a shadow against the glass buildings. Bright yellow windows ran alongside its body, neck to tail. I could just make out the silhouettes of passengers inside this bounding creature. In other parts of the city, two other wolves stalked their sides of the sprawling city.
“Are those the shadow beasts?”
“Yup. The Cerberus Line can get you anywhere you need to go at half the cost of a cab and in a short time.” Palls took one look at me and let out a long exhale. “You know, you’re something else. After seeing all this, after realizing what you’re up against, you’re not scared. Not even a little bit?”
Giving my back to the window, I stared at the last person in the world I thought I would ever see again, let alone speak to—let alone partner with. I flashed him my cheesiest smile and declared, “Oh, no. I’m scared shitless. It’s just… I’m kind of used to dealing with stress by punching or yelling at it until it dies.”
Palls rubbed his chin. “I see.”
“And what about you? This isn’t going to work if I don’t know why you’re tagging along, Palls.”
The tall man shifted to the other side of the pole and flipped his hat off. “If you must know, I’m only going with you because the Wardens from the circles down below have gone missing.”
“Wardens?” I shook my head. “Like Mason? Like you? Even Mr. Smiley up in Limbo? The guy who I caught feeding off of people i
n a cult? You’re out to save them?”
Palls huffed. “We’re still people, Grey. So what if we’re not going to be winning any humanitarian awards any time soon. Like it or not, Wardens like Mason and Shuu, and yes even me, we keep the order, Grey. And if that’s going to stand, I need to see what’s happening down there for myself.” Palls fixed his coat. “This isn’t about anything else but my job, so we don’t have to be friends after. You go your way and I go mine.”
I chuckled. “Your job, huh? And here I thought you were just here to babysit me and make sure I didn’t touch anything.”
Palls plopped his hat back on his head and tipped the brim. “Sorry, Grey. Job’s more important.” The train jerked as it lurched to stop. Palls walked to the door and, as it slid open, he added, “But seriously. Don’t touch anything.”
I sucked my teeth as he exited. “It’s just a city full of demons, Palls. Who says I need your help?”
****
Palls made it very clear we needed to find Cain—now.
“She’ll know how to get us as far as the Fourth Circle,” he explained, adding very little other information.
The moment we arrived at street level, Palls pulled us over to a large metal basin with a receiver and keypad attached. I couldn’t believe what I was seeing. It took an entire minute of gasping and blubbering for me to get any words out—a new record.
“Holy. Shit. Is that a pay phone?” I slapped my forehead. “Back in New York, you’ve got a higher chance of meeting one of the subway mole people than find a working pay phone. You don’t have a cellphone?”
Palls tucked the receiver between his shoulder and ear. “Just call me old fashioned.” He tapped a number into the pad, and then produced a pen and slip of paper from his coat pocket. While I didn’t get all of his conversation, I did catch the phrase “Fallen Registry” and Palls mumbled an address as he jotted it down. A minute later, he slammed the receiver down and folded up the paper, returning it to his breast pocket. Then, without so much as a how-do-you-do, we started walking again.