Hell Cop

by David C. Burton

  “You've got an answer for everything.”

  “Yeah, but is it the right answer? You ever been back in one of these mine tunnels?” I asked.

  “No. Just as far as the Penthouse entrance.”

  “Me neither. Is there another entrance into the cavern?”

  “Not that I know of.”

  We watched and listened. Heard nothing alarming.

  “It's only a quarter mile to the trail,” Sneaker said.

  Our eyes met, and there was nothing more to say. We had to go on. I reached out and touched her cheek, so soft and so beautiful despite the smudge marks and the growing bruise on her neck. She pressed her cheek against my fingers and smiled. Yeah, missing her would hurt.

  All senses on red alert, we hugged the wall as we made our way down the passage. At the next cave we saw nobody. Then, suddenly, at least twenty security troops appeared in front of us. I drew my gun and spun around to run. There were twenty more behind.

  These weren't the scrawny, bandy-legged grunts that did the menial labor, either. They were in shape and disciplined. Their twisted mouths formed grim frowns and the only sign of nerves were the tails that twitched around leathery legs.

  We stood back to back, out gunned twenty to one.

  “The mine,” I said over my shoulder.

  We turned, took a step, and stopped. Five minions filled the tunnel. No way out there. I looked into Sneaker's big, dark eyes and saw that she felt the same as I did. Simultaneously we mouthed the same words—The Abyss. Though I'd die of thirst before I ever hit anything, if there was something to hit, and I'd be with Sneaker, my gut clenched into a tight ball at the thought of taking the Long Fall. I was fairly sure, however, it would be better than an eternity of torment at the hands of Mephisto.

  Our eyes still locked, I tensed, ready to make the dash to the Rift edge. She placed a hand on my chest, and I wasn't afraid. At least we'd be falling together. As I filled my lungs for the dash I wondered if I'd see anything interesting in the Abyss before I died. That thought took some of the terror out of it.

  I nodded as I counted, “One, two—.”

  “Getter!” a voice boomed.

  I spun around at the unexpected voice. Captain Boam! No, the voice carried more authority than his ever would. A demon came toward us through the short rock passage from the fires. He had to lean forward to keep his head from scraping the roof. At the passage entrance he rose to his full ten foot plus height. He had a stubby crocodile head with three glistening slashes on the cheeks, a Major. As he looked down on us, the two-inch claws at the end of his double-elbowed arms slid in and out of their sheaths.

  “Getter,” he said as if we were old acquaintances, his voice deep and scratchy as if gravel rubbed together in his throat. “You have been a nuisance during your visit this time. Usually, you are so inconspicuous. Now Mephisto is angry with you.”

  My surprise that he knew of my previous trips to Hell overcame my surprise at his sudden appearance.

  “What do you mean ‘visit this time?'”

  “We are not fools, Getter. We know about you so-called Hell Cops. You sneak in here and take a few souls. It is nothing. But now, if you and Sneaker were going back where you came from, I would tell you to warn the others. Soon it will not be so easy to come to Hell and return.”

  “Mephisto is raising an army to challenge Satan, isn't he?” I asked.

  “Mephisto is ambitious,” the demon said.

  “War, then.”

  “I do not think it will be much of a war. Satan is old and tired.”

  “And which side are you on, Major....?”

  “I am Major Molas,” he said with a slight bow. It was hard to tell in the dim torchlight, but I'd swear his thick lips curved up at the corners in a small, wily smile. “I will be on the winning side.”

  “How do you know me?” Sneaker asked.

  “Ah, the beautiful Sneaker. You made many visits here with Destiny, I believe.”

  “You know Destiny?”

  “I know many things.”

  Nobody spoke after that. I could hear the creaks of armor as the troops became restless and shifted positions. Molas seemed to have lost interest. He looked right through us. I had a creepy feeling that something else was going on underneath the obvious.

  My heart pounded. Major Molas was no Captain Boam. I would not be able to trick or manipulate him like Boam. Plus he had experienced troops with him, instead of the dim-witted Grizzle. I didn't dare think what Mephisto had in mind for me, but I was determined to take it like a man. At least while Sneaker was around. She took my hand and gently squeezed. I squared my shoulders and waited.

  Molas came back from wherever he'd been.

  “We will go now,” he ordered, turning away.

  “Wait,” I said. “Leave her. She's done nothing wrong.”

  Molas looked hard at me. He was good at it. His eyes were like hard-boiled eggs sliced lengthwise. The hard yellow irises shot with green roiled around the large black pupil.

  “Just being here is something wrong,” he said. I swear he shrugged, less annoyed than amused. His claws tapped absently against the passage wall, as if waiting for something. “Not to mention the matter of the Hound.” He glanced toward the cave next to us. He saw something, pushed off the wall. “She comes with us.”

  “No! She comes with me!” somebody shouted.

  Every being froze. Molas did, too, though slowly, not at all surprised. Where had the voice come from? I looked at Sneaker; her mouth and eyes were wide open, staring into the depths of the cave.

  “It couldn't be,” she whispered.

  Sounds of a struggle came from the tunnel; minion grunts and human curses. Shots echoed simultaneously with the flash of flammers.

  “This way, Sneaker,” the new voice called out from the tunnel.

  “Get them!” Molas bellowed to his men.

  Sneaker and I jumped. Both groups of minions fired, their flame balls passing through the space our heads had just left. They weren't dumb enough to shoot their own comrades, though. Dying flames inside the cave lit the way as we leaped over several bodies and followed a shadowy figure into the dark. A ball of fire hissed over my shoulder, its sparks singeing my hair. I fired back at the figures silhouetted in the entrance, then lost sight of them as the tunnel curved down.

  We ran in near total darkness, following the stranger's dim flashlight. The tunnel curved several times, always descending. The heat increased. The walls were slimy and stank of sulfur and age. Our pursuers gained on us.

  Suddenly the light disappeared. I continued a short way, thinking our rescuer had rounded a corner. I trailed one hand along the wall to keep oriented.

  “Sneaker,” I whispered loudly, the darkness and the minions closing in on me. “Sneaker!”

  “Here, Getter.”

  “Where the Hell's here?”

  The lights of the advancing troops reflected off the slime covered rock.

  “A few more steps. Come on!”

  “Christ, Sneak, they're almost here. Where the—?”

  A dim light turned on and off. In the quick flash I saw a hand about two feet off the floor reach up and grab my walking stick. Before I could react, the hand yanked me down and through the tunnel wall.

  Chapter Fifteen

  I felt like I'd been pulled through an old-time clothes wringer, with some sand thrown in to keep me alert. As I struggled to my feet a light blinded me.

  “So this is Getter?” the mystery voice said.

  “That's him,” Sneaker's voice confirmed.

  “We have met, once or twice. I knew his Father-in-law, Jack Thanos, a good man, one of the old school. He'd never wear an earring.”

  “All right, so you think I'm a punk kid, get the damn light out of my eyes, will ya?”

  “Touchy, isn't he?” the stranger said, but he lowered the flashlight.

  While yellow spots danced in my eyes I looked around.

  “Where are we? Molas's minions were ri
ght behind me.”

  “Just a little rabbit hole I found,” said the voice. “Molas is too big, so he'll have to send some of his troops in after us. It'll take them awhile to find it, so we should be on our way.”

  He turned and started up a narrow fissure that led upward, leaving us in the dark.

  “Wait,” I said, shining my light after him. “You're Destiny. Aren't you?”

  He stopped and faced me. Like somebody's grandfather ready to do yard work, he wore khaki pants, a long-sleeved burgundy shirt that hung loose, and a limp tennis hat of indeterminate color. His pale egg-shaped face hadn't been shaved for a week, and large, dark, deep-set eyes inspected me with uncomfortable intensity. He carried a small day pack that was as worn as the rest of his clothes. There was something about him my instincts didn't trust.

  “Yes, I am,” he said.

  “Then what are you doing here? I thought you retired.”

  “That's what I want to know,” Sneaker added.

  “No time for that. If you don't want to be minion stew I suggest we move.”

  “Molas let you rescue us, didn't he?” I said.

  Destiny stepped up and inspected my face. He spoke to Sneaker. “You did say he was clever.” Without waiting for an answer he turned and set off through the fractured rock.

  Destiny was a stocky man with a barrel chest and short powerful legs that didn't quit. He had a bullet head with a fringe of grizzled hair about an inch long that stuck out from under his hat in random spikes. He was sixty-five with the stamina of an ironman champion. Damned if I was going to let him show me up.

  We made good time at first. Though narrow, the fracture had few obstructions and gradually widened. Destiny knew the way. He didn't hesitate at the many forks we came to. After a half hour of fast walking he stopped and turned off his light.

  I'd been dragging a little, and as I came up to Sneaker and Destiny, standing at the cave mouth, I was going to say something smartalecky and offensive, but when I saw what they saw I just caught my breath and stared.

  The lava river that looked so beautiful and benign from the Penthouse, raged ten feet below, down a steep, polished slope. The intense heat pushed against me like a strong current. While the heat pushed, the fantastic scene drew me as an open door draws an agoraphobe. Fear and fascination tugged at me, but I held my ground.

  The lava expanded and contracted as it slithered past, like a living entity. Molten rock spat into the air then dropped back with a flat plop. A crust of cooler, black lava rode the surface, swirling, breaking up and reforming in a mesmerizing display of nature at its fiercest. Slabs of crust broke with deafening cracks. An occasional piece broke off, upended, and crashed against the river bank with a grating roar before the lava sucked it back in. Underneath the other sounds was a continuous hissing, as if the river rolled on gravel.

  Fairy Falls couldn't be seen from our position. The cavern narrowed to almost the width of the river itself, its walls, continually swirling with hues of ocher from the lava light, rose sheer to fade into the semi-gloom of the ceiling.

  I glanced at Destiny. He leaned a shoulder against the wall and inspected his fingernails like a bored tour guide, letting the tourists have five minutes to gawk before moving on to the next sight. What must he have seen in his life that such a scene was of no interest?

  Destiny pushed off the wall and said, “Time to go. They've probably broken through by now.”

  “Destiny,” Sneaker said, awe heavy in her voice. “This is incredible. How did you find this place?”

  “Just poking around,” he said noncommittally. “Come on. Sneaker, take my hand, face the wall. There's a narrow ledge just around this corner. Getter, you're last. You'll find some hand holds up high. Don't slip.”

  It was obvious by his expression that he meant don't slip and endanger Sneaker.

  I broke down my staff, secured it in its sheath, and followed them. He was right about the ledge. It was a narrow six inches at its widest with a slight downward slant. The handholds were barely worthy of the name. I don't know how Destiny managed it with his big chest and short arms. I was too busy kissing hot rock to notice.

  The ledge widened into a path that rose up the ragged rock face as if the top half of the cavern had slipped over two feet. As we climbed the steep trail I concentrated on Sneaker's rear to keep my mind off the hundred foot, and rising, fall to the cavern floor. Destiny surged ahead of us, ignoring the small stones that rolled underfoot, providing heart-stopping moments along the way. Did the man have a death wish, or was he truly fearless?

  The path wound along the convoluted cavern wall. At a point about two hundred feet above the floor the path split into three. One branch continued up, one switched back and up, one went down.

  The old man let us rest for a minute. A shrill scream echoed through the cavern.

  “Minion,” I said.

  “Hit the lava,” Destiny said, spreading his stubby fingers. “Poof.”

  I'd been keeping my eyes straight ahead or up or to the side or closed, anywhere but down.

  Sneaker laid a hand on my shoulder.

  “You okay? This probably isn't the route you would have chosen.”

  “Yeah, I'm great. Your ass is a terrific diversion.”

  Her smile said she took that mostly as a compliment.

  “Are you afraid of heights, Getter?” Destiny asked, too casually to be considered innocent.

  What did he have against me? Of course I didn't know him, so I assumed for the moment that was his way.

  “Not heights. Falling. If you had a nice solid rail on this ledge, it'd be no problem. I don't suppose we're going down now, are we?”

  “It's your lucky day,” he said, standing up. “Let's go.”

  From the time we'd started up the trail, I thought I saw something above us in the ceiling shadows. Tiny specks that glided through the dark, like hunting birds or bats. They could have been an illusion so I said nothing. As we descended, I looked up and clearly saw three pairs of wings circling toward us.

  “Destiny,” I called ahead. “There are three birds of some sort looking us over. Friend or foe?”

  He stopped and looked up. He took binoculars from a pocket and followed their progress.

  “Cavern Flyers,” he said, putting the glasses away. “Some are friendly, most aren't. We should get to the floor quickly. Your gun's loaded?”

  In the dim light I had no way of telling how big the flying demons were. As soon as we started down, they dove on us. They got big fast.

  Sneaker must have been watching the Flyers, too, not where she was stepping. She slipped. She landed on her butt, one leg over the edge. Off balance, with nothing to grab, downward momentum began to pull her over. I jumped and grabbed her pack. We both held still and took a couple quick breaths before she scrambled back onto the trail. Destiny helped her to her feet.

  “Are you okay?” he asked her. There was no mistaking the affection and concern in his tone. Like a father to daughter. Could that be? I couldn't think more about that because right then the Flyers attacked.

  The Flyers had an eight-foot-plus wingspan. The wings were hairy leather, like a bat's, with double talons at the apexes. Their bodies were long and slim and tapered to a lizard's tail. The eyes with huge black irises like a bull's eye, protruded over a hooked beak. Long boney legs dangled from mid-body, ending with two opposed claws.

  The first Flyer dove below us, spread its wings and swooped up the cliff face until it stopped, eyes level with mine, two feet in front of me. I looked at it with surprise. Then I felt its claws close around my ankle and pull. Instinctively, I dropped to my stomach and grabbed at the rock. I kicked out, but the Flyer's leg bones just bent and absorbed the shock.

  I hung half over the edge, fingers scraping the rock for a handhold when I heard the deep boom of a Hell Cop gun. I barely caught sight of the Flyer's head disintegrating before the pressure stopped and the headless body fell away to the cavern floor.

  I hung by
my elbows and turned in time to see a Flyer swoop behind Destiny and hook its claws into his pack. Ignoring the two hundred foot drop beneath me, I held on with one arm and drew my gun. I rested it on my shoulder and, hoping I didn't blow the old man's head off, fired.

  Destiny didn't even blink as the shot put a hole in the Flyer's scrawny chest. The old Hell Cop shrugged away the dangling body and knelt beside Sneaker. They ignored me.

  I struggled back onto the trail and rolled onto my back to catch my breath. Then another group of Flyers attacked.

  Sneaker got the first one. Then they were all over us, screeching like pissed off dolphins with loudspeakers. I could barely hear my gun firing.

  Destiny yelled, “Down. We must get to the floor.”

  That sounded like a good idea as long it wasn't the Flyer's way—straight down. We slipped and slid down the path, fighting all the way. With no time to reload, my staff proved almost as good a weapon as the gun.

  When the trail descended to within ten feet of the cavern floor, Destiny jumped down, followed by Sneaker. That ten-feet might as well have been a hundred as far as I was concerned, but I had no choice. I took a breath, swatted a Flyer out of the way, and jumped.

  The landing restarted my heart. I rolled to my feet and followed the others into a maze of blue-streaked, cube shaped boulders twenty feet high where the Flyers couldn't get us. We rested, shielded from above by an overhang.

  “I hope those weren't the friendly Flyers you mentioned,” I said to Destiny, who looked like he had just come back from a stroll about the garden.

  “No, there are only a few of them. They can't help when the others are around.”

  “Do you mean they will actually help you?” Sneaker asked. “You never mentioned them before. How long have you been in this cavern, Destiny? And why are you here at all?”

  “And speaking of friendly demons,” I added. “What's with you and Major Molas?”

  Destiny looked at me, then nodded as if a suspicion had been confirmed. He stood up.

  “Come on,” he said. “I have a safe place to rest. Besides, I'm hungry.”

  A few minutes later, under two boulders that touched at the top, we entered a cave. The ground rose slightly for two hundred feet, then turned into chiseled steps that curved to the left. The steps got steeper then dead-ended. I shined my light around but saw no hidden ladders or other ways out. My Find showed no exits. Sneaker couldn't find an exit, either.