Hell Cop

by David C. Burton

  A wind exploded out of the clearing's center and whipped the trees into a fury. A whirlwind formed over the headless carcass. The real demon had emerged, cracking the once flawless pale skin like an eggshell. The whirly picked up the body, leaving the broken shell, and bore it away followed by a “V” of Skyhooks, some with souls squirming underneath.

  I felt a tug on my arm. I opened my eyes.

  “Getter,” Gregory rasped. “Better run. Your friend Christine will be angry.”

  I had to lean close to hear him over the numbing din that surrounded us. The sight of the little soul with a big heart snapped me awake. He held his throat with blood covered hands, while he struggled for breath.

  “She'd be angrier if I left you,” I yelled back at him.

  While I wrapped a bandage around the hole in Gregory's neck, Flunk regained his feet.

  “Can you move?” I asked Gregory, one eye on Flunk.

  “Yes. Death does not last long when you are already dead.”

  “Well, like you said, we'd better run. Flunk doesn't look very happy, and you know how a cranky cat can be.”

  We scrambled up to the trail. Gregory used the sword as a crutch.

  “Oh shit. The Find.”

  It still lay in the clearing on the other side of the trail. Whatever lay under it convulsed the ground like a shark feeding frenzy convulses water. No time for stealth or trickery. I grabbed the sword and ran to the Find.

  It was like walking on a narrow half sunk dock. I staggered, fell, got up, and fell again. A translucent, milky white worm a foot in diameter burst from the ground beside me. Its mouth, ringed with brown stained teeth, gaped wide and darted at me. Knocked onto my back, I struck with the sword, cutting half way through its slime filled body. Another worm rose up. I rolled to my feet and this time severed the ugly hole.

  Two more attacked before I got to the Find. As I reached for it a worm erupted from the ground, my Find in the center of its mouth. The dark shape descended erratically through the worm's gullet. If the Find sank below ground?

  I lost my footing as I slashed at the worm. The Find drifted down its gullet. I swung again, cutting clean through just above it. The worm gulped again. The Find floated inches above the ground. I cut another section, and before my Find could be sucked underground, rammed my arm into the worm's gut and snatched it out.

  I turned to retreat and found myself surrounded by worms. The Hell with it. I'd blast my way out. I reached for my gun. It wasn't there. It was on the trail. Gregory watched me nervously, unable to help. He kept looking behind him. He waved for me to come on. The worms grew taller, five, six, seven feet high. More all the time. No way I could cut my way through. Though the worms made no noise, Gregory couldn't hear me yell above the continued clamor from the forest. I made an exaggerated grab for the gun. Held up an empty hand. Slashed at a worm. Made shooting gestures, thumb up, index finger extended. Turned, swung again. Turned back. The worms were too high. They blocked Gregory from my sight. Something touched my shoulder. Teeth, inches away. Slash. Dodge. Cut. Jump. Slash. I was going down fighting, but going down just the same. To my ears the forest cries changed to cheers. The demon-murderer would die!

  The worms crowded in. I lay on my back, swinging the long blade in a circle. The ground rumbled under me. I jabbed the sword into the dirt. The ground shuddered and rose up, offering me as a sacrifice to the surrounding mouths. I cut off two more.

  The worms froze at the sound of my gun firing. I risked a glance toward the trail. BOOM. The upraised mouths of distant worms fell from view. BOOM. The rest of the worms weaved about uncertainly. Gregory!

  With new energy born of hope, I rolled to my feet and began to cut my way to him.

  BOOM. BOOM. BOOM.

  “Getter!”

  “Gregory! Don't shoot me.”

  The worms were disoriented. They undulated as if to some discordant music. I ran toward Gregory.

  “Time to go, Greg,” I said.

  “I have never seen a weapon such as this, Friend Getter. Its power is truly amazing,” he said standing in a ten foot circle of ruined worms.

  “Yeah, but it's out of shells now so it isn't worth shit at the moment. Let's go before these squigglys figure that out.”

  Back on the trail Gregory's breathing was almost normal despite the blood and puckered gash in his neck, so we didn't waste time analyzing the last fifteen minutes’ events. We switched weapons and headed for the Nexus. While I reloaded, I glanced at Flunk. The serpent had his left rear leg in its mouth. Flunk bopped him with his tail. Free, the Dinocat shook himself and took an unsteady step in our direction.

  The forest's lament for the dead demon died down, replaced by the renewed screams of the suffering souls. The rustle of the vegetation, from small bushes to the top of the tallest trees, seemed to follow us, as if to pinpoint the location of the dreaded demon killer.

  The jungle inhabitants began to attack us. Snakes and Saber Bunnies came from the side. A large porcupine-type thing with long legs that I hadn't seen before ran at us from behind, then curled into a spiny ball and tried to make a spare out of us. Giant toads shot ten foot forked tongues at our feet. Noose vines constantly dropped on our heads. We avoided the attacks we could and cut or shot at the ones we couldn't. Gregory became quite proficient with Zoat's sword.

  The Nexus was close when a small, fast serpent with bulging purple eyes got a grip on Gregory. I was concentrating on the Find and almost didn't hear his cry. Before it could flip him up to swallow him down I shot the serpent's head off. I had to put one foot on the lower jaw and heave on the upper to get Gregory loose.

  Distracted, I didn't see the big Dragon Moth swoop down behind me. Gregory did. He pushed me aside and rammed the sword into a fist-sized, blue-faceted eye. The bug fluttered its five-foot wings once, then dropped on the spot, knocking me over.

  I sat on my heels to catch my breath, and heard the high cat screech and felt the vibrations of what could only be a Dinocat at full gallop.

  “Flunk!” we said together. “Run!”

  I sprang to my feet, and we ran on.

  The Nexus came into sight. We'd made it.

  “Stay close,” I reminded the stoic little Scot.

  “As close as a barnacle on me grandfather's boat,” he assured me.

  Flunk's shrieks suddenly got louder. I looked back. He saw us!

  “Faster!” we yelled simultaneously.

  I looked forward. Oh no. Two demons exited the Nexus. Captain Boam and Sergeant Grizzle. The big red Demon advanced a couple steps and stopped, his leathery face incredulous. He had no time to react except to say, “Getter?”

  Gregory went right and I went left around the surprised demons. As my left fist, grasping the Find, vanished through the entrance, Gregory gripped my right arm, and we plunged into the Nexus, out of 29.

  Chapter Nine

  Relief washed over me as the womb-like Nexus bore us toward 73, our original destination. I sank down against the insubstantial yet supporting gray mist that comprised the interior of the Nexus. I rested my forehead against the staff and willed myself to breathe deep and slow. Gregory sat beside me, hand resting on my shoulder.

  “Getter,” he said. “Are you all right? You are shaking.”

  “I'm fine. Fine.”

  “You have much blood on you.”

  “Scratches.”

  “How long until we reach the next place?” Gregory asked.

  “I don't know. A few minutes I hope.”

  I squeezed my eyes closed to shut out the horror of 29. That didn't help. Staring at the swirling mist of the Nexus was better.

  “Christ, that place got to me,” I muttered, as much to myself as to Gregory.

  “That is the worst place you have been?”

  “I've been in worse. There's always some place worse.” I shook all over like a wet dog to shake off section 29. “Man, those fucking worms.”

  “The worms scared you.”

  “You don't survive here
without being a little scared all the time. They just got to me. They were so damn quiet. If only they'd growled or something.”

  “Ye are a very brave man to have fought them so hard when you were so frightened.”

  “Panic gets you dead.”

  “As good a definition of bravery as I have heard.”

  I shrugged my shoulders, not wanting to talk about it. Worms. Yuck. I closed my eyes, looking for a minute or two of quiet time. Instead I thought of how I was tired of living with fear and horror, tired of tortured souls, tired of being pulled by guilt like a puppet on strings. I wanted to be in my own bed with Julie in my arms and peace in my heart. That neither of those was possible while still alive was a constant sadness to me. I had accepted Julie and our daughter's death. There had been other women, none serious or long term. So when I got depressed or freaked out, I thought of Julie and the comfort she offered. The worms would have fascinated her. Worms. Yuck.

  I shook all over again, came back from my mental hell to the physical one. I sucked in a long slow breath. Focused.

  “When we get to 73 we'll go right,” I said. “Stay against the exit stone and look up. Skyhooks love the place.”

  “Skyhooks are the large birds with the hook beneath them?” I nodded. “I saw them fly over occasionally. The woods were too thick for them to hunt me.”

  “How long were you in the Dead Forest?”

  “I don't know. An eternity, it seems. I wandered, never seeing so much as a field or meadow, always the trees, never an exit. Sometimes, I would be sure open land was near, yet I never reached it. Always the dense wood and thick underbrush were there to restrict my movements. Aye, even flat barrens would be a welcome sight, never mind the Highlands blessed with heather or a valley green after a spring rain.”

  “There's plenty of open space where we're going,” I assured him.

  “That is good to hear,” Gregory said.

  “Just remember, eternal upward vigilance—when you're not looking over your shoulder.”

  “Will we get there soon?”

  “Hard to say, but probably.”

  “May I ask you a question, about 29?”

  I really didn't want to think about it. I was sure that what happened to the lovely Demon Helen, would come back to haunt me soon enough. She was no ordinary demon. Reluctantly, I nodded yes.

  “Why did you risk your life to rescue me? You had to retrieve the Find, but not me. I would not have thought ill of you if I had not seen you again. Why did you not leave me, just another soul damned to Hell, behind?”

  Oh, man. That was an area I was not prepared to get into, assuming I knew the answer. Well, that was bullshit, I did know the answer if I was willing to talk about it. I'd never told anybody, not even Julie. Why should I tell Greg? Just because he saved my life two or three times? Of course a Skyhook might have snagged me five minutes later so why not tell someone? Guilt has a way doing that sort of thing.

  I relaxed a little, sat back, absently bounced the staff on the invisible floor and said, “My best friend as a kid was Macy Lunt. One day we were down by the river. The river had steep—.”

  The Nexus pushed us gently into 73.

  Chapter Ten

  The dry heat hit me like a Dinocat's paw. I shook my head and scrambled to a crouch against the black rock of the Nexus exit. A good move on my part. A Skyhook's hook passed through the space I'd just vacated. Gregory dropped face first into the dust.

  “Eternal upward vigilance, Greg,” I reminded him.

  He spat out dust and crawled to me. He sat against the rock, looked out, and his jaw fell open.

  73 was flat. In any direction, as far as he could see, the land was perfectly flat. Not a hummock or a hill or even a mountain in the distance marred its immaculate flatness. And not a tree in sight, either. The plain was, however, uniformly covered with tall grass about five feet high. The grass was golden like a ripe wheat field in a TV commercial with a random sprinkling of what looked like ears of corn. To be sure, a benign vista, that, nevertheless, hid its own unique dangers.

  “What do you think, Greg? Open enough for you?”

  A smile graced his lips for the first time. He was a handsome little bugger when he smiled, and I could see why that housewife invited him into her haystack.

  He breathed deeply and said, “I can breathe again, Getter. You have given me hope and open land.”

  His smile faded to a grim frown, and for a long moment his eyes scanned the flat plain with the hard gaze of a hunter searching his prey, instead of the glassy stare of a hunted soul, searching for safety.

  I'm not sure he was speaking to me when he said, “If there be any justice in this universe, McFetter is here. I feel him.”

  “McFetter is the landlord you shot?” I asked.

  “What? Oh, aye, indeed. He was a Highlander. He hated flat land such as this. He is here.” Gregory drew a deep breath and turned to me. “I can never repay you, Getter.”

  “See if you feel like that in fifty years. This one dimensional flatland could get a bit monotonous. Except for the demons.”

  “The Skyhooks?”

  “There're others. The hooks are the most obvious.”

  Once you started looking for them, they filled the air. Hundreds of them, hunting souls in the grass. In the distance they could be seen flapping their huge wings as they lifted a wriggling soul into the air to feed.

  “I see. Where from here?”

  I held up the Find.

  “To the right.”

  Four narrow roads led in four directions away from the Nexus. I'd taken them all on previous trips. They all ended at the same place. I cleaned my scratches with water from the hidden faucet all Nexus stones have. More tears in my almost new coverall. I was going to look like a scarecrow when I got back.

  Amid the screams and cries of the souls being hooked, stung, and eaten, I told Gregory of the particular dangers of 73.

  “We'll travel down the middle of the road, away from the grass, so the Skyhooks will be our biggest danger. If you see them coming, they're fairly easy to avoid. Jump to the side, drop to the ground. Sometimes several will come from different directions at the same time. Be aware of that.”

  He scanned to the left side while I kept watch to the right. We both looked backward more than forward. The birds made no noise as they dove for their prey. You had to look.

  “If you have to jump into the grass, don't disturb one of those ear-of-corn looking things. They contain Corn Wasps. Their stingers are a half inch long and make regular wasp stings feel like a love nip. You'll feel the pain as it paralyzes you, souls are not immune. Then they tear strips of flesh from you and fly off to start new nests. There's plenty of them now so—Jump!”

  I pushed Gregory and dropped and rolled as a blood stained hook whistled between us. We continued on. I told my companion about the shredder mice that hunted in packs, the patches of grass that formed moving nets, the pit bugs, and the hip-high centipedes. Occasionally a soul ran across the road, usually pursued by something. We passed a soul caught in a grass net. The bottom half had already been stripped to the bone. Fortunately it was facing away from us. If I had seen it blink, I would have freaked.

  “Still like the open spaces?” I asked Gregory.

  “Is there no safe place, Getter? No Sanctuary?”

  “This is Hell, Greg. No place is truly safe. Though I have heard stories of a Sanctuary.”

  “What is the next place?”

  “Not a place anyone, or anything, would want to stay. It makes the Dead Forest seem like Disneyland.”

  “Like what?”

  “I'll explain some other time.”

  “When will we get there?”

  “I don't know for sure. As I'm sure you know, time means nothing here. Judging by previous visits, my time, a few hours.”

  “This 73 has two of these Nexuses?”

  “Yes. A few sectors do. Hell is chaos, a randomly fluctuating space. Different time, same destination, a dif
ferent route through the Nexus. My theory is that 73 and other numbers like it are bridges between regions. Like between Northeast and Northwest. The trouble is that what's Northwest this trip may be in Southeast next time.”

  “That's why the Find?

  “Exactly. It seems to make sense of the fluctuations and be able to plot a course to where you need to go.”

  “Can you go from one section to another without the Nexus?”

  “Yes, but you need a Find. Otherwise you'll wander forever, like you did in the Dead Forest. That's 323, by the way.”

  We fell into a routine, walking fast, checking for Skyhooks every fifteen seconds. Gregory appeared deep in thought. He scanned up automatically. Jumped or ducked when necessary, but was obviously distracted. I couldn't blame him. The open space he'd dreamed of for so long wasn't any Eden. Our agreement was to take him to the next number. 73 was it. Would I take him farther? Yes. He was a capable companion and I enjoyed his company. I did have questions, though. Not serious ones, but questions that at some point needed answering.

  Then he reminded me about Macy Lunt.

  * * * *

  The river had steep sandy banks. Macy and I decided to dig a cave and attack the pirates, or whoever our imaginations conjured up, that passed by on the river. It was easy digging, and we soon had a hole big enough for the two of us. Macy crawled in first. He pushed out more sand but stayed at the outer edge. I called him a wimp and crawled past him.

  The sand at the back was harder. I clawed at it with adolescent energy. This was going to be a big cave. Four feet in part of the roof fell on my legs with a dull thump.

  “Hey, Macy, what're you doing?” I accused.

  I twisted around to push the sand off. I didn't see Macy; then he looked in from the side of the hole.

  “Are you okay?” he asked.