Hell Cop

by David C. Burton

  That's what I was doing when the Arranger attacked. The bugs were programmed to go after souls, and Grace was a soul. It ignored Dimitri and grabbed Grace around her rib cage with its spiked pincers. Her head fell back, mouth stretched open with a soundless scream of pain as the giant bug lifted her off the ground.

  With a cry I could almost hear, Dimitri attacked the Arranger with his fists. The bug backhanded him out of the way. Dimitri sprawled on the ground, cradling a broken arm. I knew how to kill the thing if I could get at it before it took Grace away to be arranged between speakers to some unfathomable plan in its diminutive head. Arranger's heads were attached to a broad, flat carapace that protected its neck. I drew my big knife. As quick as I could, I approached from the left rear and stepped over its left arm. Letting a two-hundred decibel guitar solo numb the pain in my bandaged arm, I grabbed the back edge of the carapace and yanked it forward. The razor-sharp edge stung as it cut into my hand. The beetle scuttled and bucked when it realized it was under attack. I stabbed and stabbed into the open space until thick gray blood spurted and the head fell off. The Arranger stiffened, then settled to the ground. Grace slumped over the open pincers.

  Cappy and I freed her, while Dimitri fretted. She had several broken ribs and blood trickled from her mouth with every labored breath. She would recover of course, but she was going to be in great pain for as long as it took us to either escape or be captured. Without ceremony, Cappy gave me the remaining flammer and held Grace in his arms like a new baby. Limping deeply, face tight against his pain, he set off.

  Other Arrangers showed some interest in Brittany. I took a moment to marshal my last remaining chi, then had her climb up piggy-back. I joined the walking wounded.

  The Nexus came into view none too soon. Cappy's burned leg was about to give out, and Dimitri stumbled forward like a drunk who had passed out, but his feet didn't know it yet. My arm throbbed in rhythm with whatever noise blasted me and I thought that knocking myself unconscious against a speaker was preferable to any more noise.

  Ten feet from the Nexus I put Brittany down. Seconds later a flameball smacked my back. I stumbled and fell on my face. Dimitri kicked the ball away as it seared through my coverall into my skin. The pain woke me up, energized me. A few feet away, the Nexus, oblivious to our pain and suffering, beckoned with its promise of quiet and a few minutes rest. My body wanted to give up. I was angry enough, though, LEAVE ME ALONE!, that I had to push on the last few feet to the Nexus. Besides, I couldn't let Brittany, Dimitri, Cappy, and Grace down. Thank you and damn you, Macy Lunt.

  I staggered to my knees and looked behind me. Two Elite Guards approached. Sure of their prey, they weren't quick enough when I shot them both with the last few fireballs.

  The action dulled my pain and brought a brief moment of clarity. I dropped the empty flammer and programed the Find for 323, the Dead Forest, the closest Nexus to Rack the Hack's house. Eyes filled with pain and fatigue, and still a bit of hope, the others watched and waited. I managed a small smile and got small smiles back. I looked up, expecting to see a dark spot at the limit of my vision, but there was only misty blackness.

  I clenched my teeth, made sure the others had a good hold on me, and led them into the Nexus.

  Chapter Thirty-one

  Nobody wanted to break the sudden silence of the Nexus. I dropped to my knees and sat back on my heels. Ahh, blissful quiet. I took the earplugs out and dropped them, the better to experience the serene hush of the Nexus. My blood pressure dropped rapidly. There was nothing we could do for our wounds except ignore and endure.

  Dimitri and Grace muttered to each other. Cappy spoke.

  “Getter, this guy Rack, is he cool?”

  “Yeah, he's okay,” I said, then remembered what Rack had said about the Nexus being monitored. What a fool I was. My stomach knotted at the possibility that I might have told Mephisto right where we were going. The Find was still on 323. Didn't Rack also say he would be monitoring the Nexus? I couldn't think about it. It was too complicated.

  I wanted only to sleep and wake up at home. Maybe take some classes in accounting. All Hell Cops think that when the going gets rough, but it was different that time. I knew that when Dimitri returned, Christine would be out of my life. Though we had no romantic attachment, I'd gotten used to her being around. She'd leave a hole in my life that I wanted Sneaker to fill. Would Sneaker quit being a Hell Cop and stay home, the contented housewife? Not likely. The question was, if we went to Hell as partners, could I put aside my feelings for her and do a professional job? Just thinking about it was distracting. What would happen in a real situation?

  All the introspection was uncharacteristic of me. It suggested a future beyond the next five minutes. It suggested change. I'd survived the same way for ten years. Why would I want change? I shrugged my shoulder to feel the breath-taking pain of the burn. That I could deal with.

  I didn't say anything to the others about my questions, or the fact that we might be monitored. We couldn't run and we couldn't fight. Let them enjoy a quick rest.

  The Nexus nudged us gently out.

  Brightness blinded me. When I looked up I knew our escape was over. Fifteen Guards surrounded us, high capacity flammers aimed steadily at my head. I sighed once, disappointment heavy in me. I looked to the others. Dimitri waved his good hand in a defeated throw-away gesture that said it all—of course, what did you expect?

  Dimitri's forgiveness didn't help me forgive myself. I felt as if I had failed them. I'd always thought I knew the risks I took when I went to Hell and felt I was ready to suffer the consequences should things go bad. As I looked at Dimitri, Grace, Brittany, and Cappy, standing, if not straight, proud, I suddenly realized that until that moment I really hadn't cared what happened to me.

  Now that my life was essentially over, I finally understood that a large part of me had died with Julie and our daughter and for ten years I'd been trying to die, too. A deep sadness filled me for two reasons: because Cappy and Dimitri should have to die, after I gave them hope, then let them down, and because I didn't want to die.

  Brittany could have been my daughter. If I disappeared I had no doubt that Gregory and his new soul friends would take care of her, but Hell was still Hell. She deserved to go to Heaven, and it was my duty to take her there. Julie, and Macy Lunt, would never forgive me if I abandoned her by giving up. Sneaker came into my thoughts, too. That was a separate sadness. It had been so long since I cared about anybody but my dead wife I had tried to shut out the concept of Sneaker and me together as something too difficult to deal with. Change.

  What did it matter, anyway? Mephisto had won.

  I looked around us. We were in 73, the flatland where Gregory found his Skyhook and Mephisto had marched his army. In front of me stood a Helland Security Colonel. He was one of Hell's many versions of a centaur. He had a compact, muscular body with four legs, the rear ones half the length of the front. The trunk resembled a snake; the arms, a man; and the head a stylized praying mantis with oval, multifaceted eyes. Four slashes of rank adorned his burnished green cheeks.

  “You have arrived,” the Colonel said, not unkindly, and not surprised.

  I struggled to stand straight, determined to go with some dignity.

  “It appears so,” I said, fresh out of snappy comebacks.

  “I am Colonel Zat. And you must be Getter. I applaud you, all of you. Your escape from Fort Blood was very impressive. Unfortunately for you, I must take you back.”

  He gestured to his demons to take us.

  What was there to say? I laid my head back and gazed at the “sky.” Would I ever see it again as a Lifer? I scanned all around to take in as much as I could. Over Zat's left shoulder I noticed a spot against the white haze. I kept my head moving so as not to alert him. Pain blurred my vision, making me see things. The spot was nothing. I shook my head to clear my eyes and looked again. The dark spot grew bigger, and not just one spot, many! Help was on the way. I knew it. I felt it. I turned away so
Zat wouldn't see the new hope in my eyes.

  Guard's claws gripped my arm. Wait! If we went into the Nexus we were gone forever, I knew that, too. But, damn it, the spots were so far away. Somehow, without getting killed right then, I had to stall.

  “Colonel,” I said over my shoulder. “What's your take on the coming War?”

  Every being froze. Zat gestured and the guards picked me up and took me to him. I sucked air through my teeth as a talon pressed against my torn arm. Colonel Zat made no sign of sympathy or delight at my pain. He did, however, allow me a minute to compose myself. His insect eyes regarded me with, I thought, more intelligence than the average demon.

  “Mephisto will win,” he said, when my eyes focused.

  “And do you think that will be good for Hell?”

  “Hell is Hell. It's not supposed to have Good in it.”

  “That's not what I meant, but it does, doesn't it? Have Good in it?”

  “What do you mean Hell has Good in it?” Zat asked, sounding interested.

  I had no idea what I meant. I was just babbling, stalling for time till the air Cavalry arrived. Of course, if the rescuers that were taking their sweet time getting to us turned out to be Pragons ... ? Dizziness made it hard to think straight, let alone stand still and look Zat in his eyes. Pain wanted me to give up. Hope wanted me to stall.

  “Some demons think Mephisto doesn't care about Hell,” I said. “They say he's only interested in living large in the Golden Palace.”

  “Grikshit. Who are these demons you talk of?”

  “I don't know, maybe you?”

  I never saw the fist that smacked me to the ground.

  “Getter!” Dimitri cried out. He moved to help me. Grace held him back.

  It was a stupid thing to say. Zat had no choice in his response. For or against Mephisto, in front of his soldiers, he had to shut me up lest they get the wrong ideas about him, or Mephisto. The head of security was probably in no mood to tolerate doubts in his staff.

  Zat gripped my throat and bent down till his face was inches from mine.

  “You should be careful what you say when you don't know what you are talking about,” he said to me only. “You may cause yourself and others more trouble than is necessary.”

  I sensed a hidden meaning in his words. The left side of my face felt like a crazed Dinocat had run into it. All I could think about was breathing. Zat released the pressure on my throat.

  “No more accusations,” he said and let me go.

  As I lay gasping I knew that what I said didn't really matter, it had accomplished its purpose. All eyes were on me, on the ground, not up where the Cavalry circled.

  Looking up from the ground I saw the first Skyhook and rider dive out of the sky. At the last second it leveled off to snatching height barely ten feet behind the half circle of soldiers. In total silence it hooked a soldier and lifted him off the ground with a rush wind. Two more Skyhooks took two more soldiers before the rest reacted.

  Then fireballs rained down from the circling birds. The Skyhooks dove, both bird and rider screaming a battle cry, then banked and turned so tight the rider was parallel to the ground as he fired at the surprised demons. The soldiers screamed and fired back. They tried to take cover by the Nexus, but it provided no cover from an air attack and the Nexus wouldn't open for their escape. Zat scampered about trying to organize his fast dwindling soldiers. Flame hit a front leg. He crumpled to the ground, still yelling orders.

  The rescuers took some casualties, two skyhooks were hit and one rider knocked off in a ball of flame. But the demons were outnumbered and taken by surprise. The five of us huddled in the middle of the action, flame all around us.

  When Zat went down, I thought the fight would be over. Then he picked up a flammer. He had a clear shot at a Skyhook as its rider concentrated on a still defiant soldier. On my knees, movements jerky from the insidious burn on my back, I scrambled for another abandoned gun. Instead of taking advantage of a clear shot at Zat, I lurched forward and knocked the gun out of his hand.

  As suddenly as it started, it was over.

  In the shush of landing Skyhooks and moans of agony, Zat regarded me.

  “You did not kill me when you had the chance, Getter. Why?” he asked, his inscrutable insect face somehow conveying a need to know.

  I laid the gun in my lap and said, “Because there is Good in Hell, Colonel, whether you see a need for it or not.”

  Gregory came up to me, sword swinging at his side, gun hanging from one hand. Other souls converged on us, men and women, all armed, confident but reserved, a bit uncomfortable around a Colonel from Hell Security.

  “You are safe now, Getter, me friend,” Gregory said, sitting on his heels next to me. “Whew. You need a good wash. Blood is not for swimming, you know.”

  I had to smile. I wouldn't have believed how glad I was to see the little Scotsman again, rescuer or not.

  “You know about that, do you?”

  “Aye, I do. And it's fair to say I don't envy you the experience. Come, let's get you and your friends away from this place.”

  I tried to get up. Couldn't quite manage it. Not even if Mephisto stood behind me with a red hot poker. Gregory and a stout oriental man with a potbelly and a shaved head helped me stand.

  “What about him?” Gregory asked, nodding at Zat.

  “Give him something for his leg,” I said. “He can take care of himself after that.”

  Colonel Zat squared his shoulders and held his head a bit higher. His face was not as hard to read as I thought.

  “Who are these souls?” Zat asked as a young Chinese soul smeared Fire Moss Balm on his leg.

  “They are your friends or your enemies, Colonel. Depending on your take in the coming war.” I still wasn't sure what I was talking about, but it sounded good in my dizzy thoughts.

  We left him then, alone with five remaining soldiers. The others were already loaded on Skyhooks and in the air. I stood with Gregory by his mount. Unbidden and unannounced tears welled up and flowed down my cheeks.

  “Jesus Christ, Greg,” I said, resting a hand on my friend's bony shoulder. “I'm glad you didn't forget me. I couldn't have taken any more. I just ... couldn't.”

  Not in the least embarrassed, he squeezed my shoulder in return and said, “I will never forget you, Getter. Never. And believe me I'm learning how long never is.”

  Aloft, flanked by two solo riders as wingmen, I finally thought to ask where we were going.

  With a cheery note in his voice, Gregory said, “Sanctuary, me friend. Sanctuary.”

  Chapter Thirty-two

  Hell is a big place. No Hell Cop that can be believed has ever seen the edge of it. Some believe Hell is flat. Some believe it has no real space, that it only exists in the mind. They think that when we enter the door to the tunnel we enter a universal virtual reality game run by God, to scare the Hell out of, or perhaps into, the stupid humans. Most, myself included, think Hell is a slowly expanding sphere, location unknown (and what does it matter?) encompassing the Abyss. The raw material comes from what's left after the soul is extracted.

  No Hell Cop has ever seen all of Hell, not Destiny or the even more legendary Albert Crisp who went to Hell in the early eighteen hundreds. There are places in Hell the Find won't guide you to, that Satan has forgotten, and Mephisto would like to know the location of. Places only souls know about because Lifers didn't need to know about them. If any Lifer did need to know about those places, Cappy, Dimitri, and I did. We, especially me, were wanted by the baddest badass in Hell.

  Gregory filled me in on Sanctuary. Sazz, the Skyhook he captured, had flown him there. Apparently there is some cosmic connection between Skyhooks and dead Hell Cops. Sanctuary was one of the places Hell Cops who died in Hell eventually made their way to. It was also the home of the Skyhooks. The Skyhooks lived in caves in the mountains that surrounded a small central valley where the souls of dead Hell Cops dwell. The souls had taken over some abandoned lower caves and b
uilt some stone huts at the end of the valley by a small lake.

  I couldn't help but be awed by the spectacular view as Sazz flew us through a narrow pass between two smoking volcanos, and descended in what seemed like freefall to the settlement below. I had been too tired and hurt too much to be scared of the height. I didn't remember the landing.

  When I woke on a surprisingly comfortable pallet in one of the stone huts, I thought I was still dreaming.

  “Hey, Sneak,” I croaked. “When did you make angelhood?”

  “It's only temporary,” she said. “Except where you're concerned.” She laid a cool cloth on my forehead. “You were a mess when you arrived.”

  “What about the others?”

  “They'll be fine. Dimitri is still sleeping.”

  “How long have we been here?”

  “About forty-eight hours.”

  “Why are you here? Did you get your kid....?”

  “Yes, I got him to Heaven Gate and the Purgatory Acceptors took him in. Mephisto's soldiers almost got me as I came back across the Styx. Your friend Gregory and the other Hell Cop souls arrived in the proverbial nick. I owe the Master of the House big time. Who is Rack the Hack, by the way? He seems to know a lot about a lot.”

  “A friend. I'll explain later.”

  She took my hand in both of hers.

  “Getter,” she said softly.

  I dearly wanted to hear what she said. I had things I wanted to say to her, too. However, relief that she was safe quickly turned to fatigue. I might have slept. She was still there when I woke again.