Hell and Back

by Patricia Blackmoor

  “Yeah, but stay in the shadows,” he said.

  I paced back and forth, trying to regain the strength in my legs. They were still in an excessive amount of pain, but the more I walked, the easier it became. They weren’t buckling underneath me, and the shooting pain had subsided to a mere aching.

  “We’re not leaving until you’re ready,” Parker said again.

  “I know, I’m just anxious,” I said. “I’m ready to get out of here.”

  “I know.”

  I looked at him. “What’s it like, going back to Earth?”

  “I’ve only been back a few times so far. It’s going to be a little bit of a shock to your system, I’m going to warn you now.”

  “How so?”

  “The fresh air, the quiet, the drop in temperature...it was a huge shock to me the first time I went back. Obviously Earth is a lot different than hell, but I honestly hadn’t even thought what a toll it would have on my body. I just want you to be prepared for it, especially since you’re injured.”

  “Do I need to worry about dying? Will my injuries kill me there?”

  “No. You still can’t eat, sleep, that sort of thing. You can’t die. You can still feel, though.”

  “So this pain won’t go away once we’re free?”

  “Unfortunately not.”

  I nodded. I’d hoped that I’d be going back to Earth feeling much better than I was now. I wasn’t sure how that would work, but I didn’t know how any of the rest of this worked either. I leaned down to stretch, touching my toes, the muscles along my back pulling through some of the pain.

  “Do you think you’re ready?” Parker asked, looking around to be sure we weren’t being watched.

  “As ready as I’m going to be,” I told him. “I don’t want to risk us by wasting any more time.”

  “Okay,” he said with a deep breath. “Follow my lead.”

  He reached back and took my hand. In this shadowy part of hell, it was almost impossible to see, but Parker navigated with ease. We had to dart from shadowy alcove to shadowy alcove, avoiding the attention of guards and demons alike. Many of them would have paid little attention to us anyway, but there were those who would care, and we needed to stay out of their line of sight.

  “This way,” Parker said in a hushed whisper. He pushed open a door hidden in one of the dark alcoves. I hadn’t even seen it at first. Parker pulled me close and both of us slid through the door, avoiding attention.

  It was even darker through the door, and my eyes struggled to adjust even more than they already had. Slowly I could start to make out shapes, and I realized we were in a stairwell of some sort. Like the rest of hell, the stairwell was carved from stone and ash.

  “This way,” he said, pulling me to the stairs going up. Each step burned my thighs as we climbed, and I could feel my legs becoming weaker and weaker as I tried to climb.

  “You all right?” Parker asked me.

  “Yes, just...can I have a break? Can we take a break?”

  Parker paused. “Yeah, let’s pull off here.”

  We slipped into the shadows under an archway. I rested my hands on my knees, trying to block out the pain.

  “You all right? We can’t stop now.”

  “I know, I know,” I said. “I’m all right. Let’s keep going.”

  He took my hand again, and once more we started up the staircase. Each twenty or so steps there was another landing, another door, another level of hell.

  “How many levels are there?” I asked.

  Parker shrugged. “They’re constantly adding more. People keep dying, hell keeps filling up.”

  “Ugh. We need fewer terrible people in the world,” I said.

  “You and I are both here.”

  “Well, I’m a terrible person. You aren’t.”

  He shook his head. “You aren’t terrible.”

  “Parker—”

  “Shh.” He put a finger to his mouth. “Someone’s coming. Hide.”

  He shoved me aside into the nearby doorway, hiding me in the shadows. He leaned against the wall, as if he was resting from the exertion of all the stairs. A few moments later I heard someone pass by.

  “What are you doing?” a man barked.

  “Just a quick break. Came up from the bottom. Long walk.”

  “Lots of steps,” the man agreed.

  We waited until his footsteps couldn’t be heard any longer. Parker grabbed my hand again and we continued our climb. My legs burned, and as much as I wanted to ask for a break, I kept my mouth shut, enduring the agony in hopes of reaching our destination before another run-in with a guard. Finally, we made it to the top level, where instead of a room full of cells, there was a circle of stones, almost like a stone well.

  “Come on,” Parker said, motioning for me to hurry. We rushed across the room and stepped into the circle.

  “Now what?” I asked. “Think happy thoughts?”

  “Not exactly,” he said. He reached and struck a match, lighting a torch right outside the circle. I hadn’t even noticed it was there before, but now it burned brightly. The light flickered over the room, illuminating the vast emptiness around it.

  “Okay, now what? How does it know where we need to go?”

  “It’s a little bit of a process,” he admitted.

  I wasn’t sure, but I thought I heard a noise from somewhere in the cavern. “Can you speed it up?”

  “Maybe.”

  In front of the flickering light was a thick book. Parker leaned over it, beginning to read.

  “Legionem peto quatenus infernus terra pateat tutum porta lacus.”

  “You speak Latin?”

  “I’m learning. Oportet nos venire per coordinatas septem octo gradibus septem septentrionali parte nongentorum quadraginta quatuor nonaginta sex duo quinque-punctum et tres gradus nulla plagam.”

  This time I was sure I heard sounds, a clanging.

  “Hey! Stop! What are you doing!”

  Dark shapes were coming at us from across the room.

  “Parker, you’d better hurry,” I said, as a wind started blowing around us. I grabbed his arm tightly.

  “I’m trying, but this is the most important part.”

  “Hurry!”

  “I can’t fuck this up, Meg.”

  “Hey!” The men were getting closer, and my heart was pounding as I prayed that Parker would be able to get the words out quickly.

  “Nunc transeamus ad terram porta clausa est. Occultari velit id ab iis qui post nos sequi. Cluso ostio nostro modo momento latet decedere campis. Ne ab aliis.”

  “Parker…”

  “Almost done, Meg.”

  The men were so close I could see their faces, twisted in rage and anger as they realized that we were making our escape. Someone threw something, a rock, maybe, and I ducked, the projectile spinning across the room.

  “Parker…”

  “Nunc porta et terra procedamus.”

  Below us, the ground began to swirl. The men were close now, and as I felt myself falling through the hole in the ground, one reached down to grab my arm.

  “Parker!” I screamed as I dangled over the open hole, but he was already gone. I reached over and clamped my jaw down on the man’s arm, tasting salt and sulfur, and with a loud yelp he dropped me into the darkness.

  It was like a terrible roller coaster, falling through with nothing to cling to. My body was tossed around, and I struggled to right myself and find which was down. It was impossible; there was no gravity here, no up or down. Instead I floated and spun through space until my body landed hard on the pavement.

  “Oof,” I said, pain shooting through my side.

  “Meg, are you all right?”

  I opened my eyes, blinking quickly at the sharp sunlight. Parker’s hand was stretched in front of me and I reached out to take it. He helped me to my feet.

  A soft breeze blew against my skin, goosebumps breaking out across my body. It had to be eighty degrees this time of year, but it felt like fort
y compared to hell. The air was clean and sweet, the sound of traffic like a whisper compared to the screams that had been ringing in my ears.

  “Oh my God,” I murmured.

  “We’re out.”

  I threw up.

  Chapter Eleven

  Parker held my hair out of my face and rubbed my back as I dry heaved on the pavement. I had nothing in my stomach to throw up, but the sudden change in atmosphere, as well as being dropped through the portal, made me ill.

  “Take your time,” Parker said, still rubbing my back. “It took a while for me to adjust the first time too. Are you okay?”

  I sucked in a deep breath of cool, fresh air. “Yeah. I’m okay.”

  I stood up and we looked at each other.

  “We’re out,” he said.

  I smiled. “We’re out. We’re...where are we?”

  “The sculpture garden,” he said, gesturing behind me. I glanced over and saw he was right.

  “Can I sit down?” I asked.

  “Of course.”

  He helped me over to a bench and I sat down, elbows on my knees, trying to get rid of the nausea still floating in my stomach. Despite feeling sick, everything felt so good. The air blowing softly against my skin, the quiet of a summer afternoon, the taste of summer instead of smoke and sulfur. I closed my eyes, letting the peace wash over me. When I opened them, Parker was watching me.

  “Sorry,” I said, shaking my head.

  “Don’t apologize. You look...happy.”

  “I am, even though I know it won’t last. It just feels so nice.”

  “I know how you feel,” he said, holding out his arms, catching the sun’s rays. In the bright light I could see so many more of his features than I could before; the way his greenish-blue eyes stood out against his dark skin, the soft curve of his lips, his strong jaw. He was even more handsome in the light. My stomach began to feel fluttery and I had to steady myself once more.

  “Are you sure you’re all right?”

  “Yeah. Just sensory overload, I guess.” The sun was so bright, the wind so unexpected, it wasn’t a bad excuse. I watched the people milling around, unaware of the life they’d have once this one was over. They were so oblivious to how easily their time could be cut short. I watched an elderly couple, a family with a toddler, and if I could have, I would have teared up. Those were things I was never going to have. I hadn’t thought how much it would hurt me to be reminded of the life I left behind.

  “Meg?”

  I turned to face Parker. “Yeah?”

  “Is there anything I can do to help?”

  “I don’t think so.” I looked at all the people again, wandering through the sculptures, minding their own business. It was such a stark contrast to the usual faces of agony I saw in hell every day. These people might be fighting their own demons, but it was nothing compared to what they’d have to go through if they ended up in the same afterlife I was in. Even the homeless man on the bench next to us looked better than we did. Our clothes were torn, burnt, and dirty.

  I had a realization.

  “They can’t see us, can they?” I asked.

  “The other people?” Parker asked, looking around at the bystanders. “No, they can’t.”

  “How does that work?” I asked.

  “It’s like...like being a ghost, almost, I guess. We can appear to the people we’re trying to make deals with.”

  “So, you’re telling me the only person who can see us is some guy in Argentina?”

  “It was a woman, actually. But yeah, that and anyone else from an afterlife.”

  I crossed my arms, my forehead scrunched as I tried to decipher everything. “What do you mean, ‘anyone else from an afterlife’?”

  “Angels. Demons, if they found us. Ghosts.”

  “Ghosts are real?” Now my eyebrows were raised.

  “From what I understand, it’s special circumstances only. Very rare and far between. Most of the time when people think they’ve seen a ghost, it’s really an angel or demon.”

  “So, I could stand in front of somebody, raise my arms, flash them, and they wouldn’t see me?”

  “No, but that doesn’t mean you can’t try,” he said with a smirk.

  “What about touching things, moving things?”

  He shook his head. “Only if it’s something you brought with you. There is a way to do it—the more powerful demons can—but they don’t teach us. They said that’s only for the poltergeists to know.”

  “Poltergeists are real?”

  “They’re demons, not ghosts, but yes. It’s a special demon whose job is, pardon the expression, to make someone’s life hell.”

  “Great. Fun. If we run into one, will they report us?”

  “Probably not. They don’t have much to do with our department. For all they know, we’re here on business.”

  I went back to the matter at hand. “But we can’t touch things. That creates a unique set of problems for us.”

  “I didn’t think about that.”

  “How on earth am I going to get the money to Mitchell if I can’t touch it?”

  Parker’s eyes widened.

  “Parker…” I said, looking at him nervously.

  “I’m not sure. We’ll figure something out. There has to be a way.”

  “How? If I can’t touch anything…” My heart was beginning to beat harder as I tried to swallow my panic.

  “Hey, come here, it’ll be okay,” he said, wrapping me in a hug. I closed my eyes, taking a deep breath.

  “Wait,” I said. “We can still touch.”

  He laughed, pulling away slightly so he could look me in the eyes. “Yeah? You didn’t notice before?”

  “I guess I was too distracted and overloaded with everything,” I said. “This is nice.”

  I took his hand, threading my fingers in between his. The touch sent a thrill through my body. I had missed casual touch, gentle touch, a touch that didn’t precede or follow explicit pain.

  “It is nice, isn’t it?” he asked me.

  My other hand slipped up to cup his face, his skin warm against my cool hand. He closed his eyes, relaxed against my touch. Our lips met, soft and careful in our new atmosphere.

  Parker pulled back after a moment. “Meg.”

  “Yeah?” My breathing was heavy.

  “We’d better go find your boyfriend.”

  I closed my eyes and sighed. “Right. Of course. How do we get there? Can we like, apparate or something?”

  “Closer to ‘or something’,” he said. “We’ll take the train.”

  We walked to the station. It was all I could do not to take his hand, loop my arm with his. It seemed wrong, though, as we were on our way to find Mitchell, so I let my hands swing at my sides.

  “Okay, what train do we need to take?” Parker asked as we stood by the schedules.

  “I don’t know.”

  “You don’t know?”

  “I’ve never ridden Metro Transit before,” I said.

  He tilted his head at me. “How is that possible?”

  “I had a car. I mean, it wasn’t super nice, but I didn’t need to take the train.”

  He sighed, rolling his eyes at me, but he had a smirk. “Okay, let’s take a look. What was your address?”

  “4243 East Hamilton Street.”

  “All right. Come this way.”

  I followed Parker through the station. It was bustling with people, and inevitably someone walked right through me. I had thought maybe it would feel weird, but I didn’t feel anything at all, and that was almost weirder.

  “This one,” Parker said, and when the doors opened, we stepped on, merging into the crowd with the other riders.

  “Wait, what day is it?” I asked him. It was obviously summer, but that was as far as I was aware.”

  “I aimed to get us here around the time of your death,” he said, “but it’s always a little bit of a gamble. Maybe we can find the date on a newspaper?”

  “No one reads n
ewspapers anymore,” I said, rolling my eyes. I was right; there wasn’t a single newspaper in sight on the train.

  “Well it’s not like we can ask somebody,” Parker asked, frowning as he thought.

  “We don’t need to. Everyone’s got a phone,” I said. “We just have to wait for someone to use theirs.”

  I glanced around the train and found a girl about my age sit down and pull a pair of earbuds from her pocket. She was definitely going to be using her phone. I crossed over and stood behind her, watching as she pressed her thumb against the button and it read her fingerprint. The date and time flashed against the screen before the phone unlocked.

  “Did you see it?” Parker asked.

  I nodded. “It’s July 4th. Independence Day.”

  “Okay, great. That’s two weeks after your death, right?”

  I nodded. “It’s the day before my birthday. Or, what was supposed to be my birthday.”

  He gave me a small smile as I returned to his side, and he put an arm around my shoulder. “Happy early birthday.”

  “You’ll be the only one offering me wishes,” I said with a sigh.

  “But you get to be here, on Earth,” he said. “That counts for something, right?”

  “You know, it does,” I said. “Thanks for that.”

  We rode in relative silence for a ways, sitting on a few empty chairs near the window.

  “We used to get ice cream there,” I said, pointing at a little shop across the street. “They gave big scoops. Huge. You’d buy a small and wouldn’t be able to eat it all.”

  “I think my mom took me there once.”

  “So good. Definitely worth the money. Over there, at the children’s hospital, my niece stayed there for a few days when she was diagnosed with diabetes. And that park, we used to go there on summer evenings and swing when the weather was nice. It was so peaceful at night.”

  I had never considered myself a nostalgic person, but as all the sights flew by, I couldn’t help but long for my old life. It had been far from perfect, but it was better than hell.

  “Down that road, that leads to the office I worked in at the university,” I said. “I helped plan school events.”

  “Did you like it?”