Dead Jack and the Pandemonium Device

by James Aquilone

  Soon, though, the plain gave way to lava pits and lakes of fire and hills of bones. It was a nice change of scenery. You don’t mind piles of basilisk carcasses after seeing only a big, black nothing.

  As I approached the Really Big Pit of Fire, the joint really heated up. I started sweating. I didn’t know I could still do that.

  The winged demon had long ago disappeared into the blood-red sky. It was the one hitch in my plan. You can’t foresee everything. Live and learn. The dunzy wanted to canvass. No one was around!

  Little purple creatures, lizards maybe, scampered along the ground. One stopped, looked at me, and spit. When the thick saliva hit the ground, it sizzled and a puff of smoke rose from where it landed. I made a mental note to stay away from those things.

  I needed to think. I sat beside a lake of fire. I had only three more hellfire sticks. Crap! Then I remembered the dust. The heavenly, magical dust. Oswald would bitch about it since I had just fed on a leprechaun, but of course he wasn’t here. Besides, I was doing it for him, wasn’t I?

  I took out a baggie. (The queen handed me a dozen when we left Goblin Town.) All colors of the rainbow twinkled in the powder like gems in a dwarf mine. It was like a living kaleidoscope. Just looking at it gave me a buzz. I took a quick hit and it was fookin paradise.

  I watched as the lake of fire burned bright yellow, then red and blue. Like the dust itself, every color imaginable swirled in the fire as if a giant, drunk Van Gogh finger-painted the whole thing. I could feel my heart beating and blood flowing through my veins. It may have just been my imagination, but I only felt alive when I had dust. The air prickled my skin. It was like a vacation away from Pandemonium and, most importantly, myself.

  I thought more clearly now, no burning hunger clouding my mind. That demon could be clear across the Broken Lands by now. Hell, he could have crossed the Bleeding Throat and been in Witch End. But no, he never would have gone there. Too many humans. He was still in the Broken Lands. I was sure of that.

  What if I didn’t find the little bugger? He’d totally blame me.

  I stood up as the initial high faded and resolved into a warm feeling in my gut. I climbed a short rise and, when I reached the crest, there was the Really Big Pit of Fire. It had to be two miles long and just as wide. Flames reached two or three hundred feet in the air. On closer inspection, it wasn’t one pit of fire but thousands of small fires. I could see gaps in the flames, small, narrow paths through the pit. I wasn’t too happy about going through the blazes. I didn’t know how good-looking I’d be as a skeleton. I’d probably have to take in my suit. But going around the fire would take too long and I wanted to get out of the Broken Lands as soon as possible.

  I sucked in my gut and descended into the pit.

  Damn it was hot in there, but it was a dry heat, so I wasn’t complaining too much. The path zigged and zagged and widened a bit. I had to do a mambo to avoid the licking flames. I thought of going back. There was a good chance Oswald was already dead. Ah, who was I kidding? The little twerp is indestructible. He was probably sitting somewhere, tapping his foot, waiting for me to show up.

  The flames crackled like thunder and zipped across the sky like lightning. Sweat dripped into my eyes, making it hard to see. A column of flame lashed out and nearly fried me, but I was able to jump out of the way. I wiped the sweat from my eyes and crept through the pit at a more careful pace.

  I negotiated a difficult twist in the path and entered a clearing. I stood at the edge of a circle of white sand. A ten-foot-high wall of flame surrounded it. In the center sat a strange creature. He was an ugly sucker with a big, bulbous nose that hung past his bloated red lips. Instead of hair, tiny curls of flame danced atop his head. His dull, coal eyes watched me as I approached.

  “Do you have blood for Ukobach?” he asked in a voice that crackled like a burning log. The fire demon held a poker with a glowing orange tip.

  “I think I’ll go with a no on that.”

  “I am Ukobach, the keeper of the infernal boilers. Appointed by Beelzebub himself.”

  “Dead Jack, Private Eye, here. Nice to meet your acquaintance, but you seem a long way from the infernal boilers.”

  “What have you heard?” His eyes darted from side to side.

  “About…?”

  “What have they been telling you about Ukobach?”

  “They? They haven’t been telling me anything about you. I’ve never heard of you.”

  The demon jumped up, flames shooting off him like a Roman candle. “Never heard of the great Ukobach!” he shouted. “The keeper of the infernal boilers!”

  “Appointed by Beelzebub himself. Yeah, we went over that.”

  Ukobach pointed his poker to the sky and flames sprouted from the ground. One flaming column ignited right between my feet.

  “On second thought, yeah, Ukobach. Is it Ukobach? I thought you said ‘Yugo Block.’ Everyone I know talks about Ukobach. They say he’s a real hot head.”

  “Oh?” He looked as if he didn’t know how to take that.

  “In a good way.”

  “Do they fear me?”

  “They’re terrified. You should come to ShadowShade and give them a good scare.”

  “Ukobach cannot.” The demon hung his head. “I have been banished from Hell, and tending to the pit is my punishment. Ukobach cannot leave.”

  “Out of curiosity, may I ask what you did to get banished from Hell? Seems a difficult thing to do.”

  “It happens more times than you’d think.”

  “Were you not infernal enough?”

  His coal eyes burst into flames. “Ukobach is as infernal as any Prince of Hell! He is their equal! Nay, he is their better!”

  “You were probably too infernal. I can tell. I’m sure they were jealous.”

  “You are more correct than you know.”

  “Well, it was nice chatting with you, but I need to be moseying along.” When I tried to pass the fiery fellow, he said, “You may not leave without permission from the keeper of the infernal boilers.”

  “I thought we went over that. You’re no longer the keeper of the infernal boilers.”

  “You will have safe passage through the pit—”

  “Okay, that’s very kind of you,” I said and once again tried to get past Ukobach. He blocked me with his poker.

  “—after you give Ukobach your blood.”

  “You need just a sample or something?”

  “Ukobach will need all of it.”

  “If you haven’t noticed, I’m a zombie. I don’t have such great blood.”

  “Your blood is exactly what Ukobach needs.”

  “And what do you need it for?”

  “To make the oil that fuels the infernal boilers, Ukobach needs the blood of the damned.”

  “Now wait a minute. I’m far from damned.”

  Ukobach grinned and tiny sparks danced at the corners of his mouth. “You are a member of the soulless. You are beyond damned.”

  “I don’t know who you’ve been talking to, but this whole soulless thing has gotten really overblown. I do fine without a soul.”

  “You are a marked man. Damned for eternity. When the soulless die the absolute death, they are sent to a very special place in the deepest, darkest depths of Hell. Pandemonium will seem a paradise.”

  “You make a great pitch, but I think I’m going to keep my blood.”

  Ukobach held up his poker, which now glowed white hot.

  “When Ukobach has collected enough, Ukobach will be welcomed back to Hell. Beelzebub promised Ukobach himself.”

  The joke was on him. There was no way out of Pandemonium. You’d think demons were smart enough not to believe a Prince of Hell.

  “This place isn’t hot enough for you?” I asked. “You want to go back to Hell?”

  “Ukobach does not request your blood.”

  This Ukobach didn’t strike me as a particularly smart demon. He must have been of an inferior order. I played along. “You know what?
You look like you deserve a break from this place. So, I’m going to contribute to the Get Ukobach Back to Hell Fund. You can have all the blood you need. Should I just split open a vein?”

  Ukobach look confused. He probably never had anyone volunteer before. After a few moments of silence, he said, “You have chosen wisely, damned one. Ukobach is strong. He is not to be trifled with. There is no need for you to cut yourself. Ukobach will roast you over a vat into which the blood will collect.”

  “Where’s this vat?”

  “Ukobach has to get it.”

  “Go right ahead. Is it close?”

  Ukobach looked around like it might have been sitting right next to him the whole time.

  “Wait here,” he said and took off. He slipped through the wall of fire and disappeared. This guy was a total moron.

  I didn’t waste any time. I headed to the far end of the fire wall and stopped. There didn’t seem to be any opening. I could risk it and jump through. Maybe it was only a few inches thick. Or I could cremate myself.

  Then I had a brilliant idea. (Perhaps there was a brain in my skull after all.) I unbuckled my belt and held it with the buckle at the bottom end. Then I began to whip the belt in a circle, creating a giant fan. When I worked up enough power, I brought it closer to the fire wall. Just as I had hoped, the flames parted. I still couldn’t see beyond the fire wall, so I whipped the belt harder and entered when I had created a nice-sized hole.

  Whoosh, whoosh, whoosh. The flames spread and I stepped through the tunnel I had created. The wall was pretty thick. I never would have made it had I tried running through. I trudged through the tunnel for several seconds and I still hadn’t come to the end. My arm began to tire and the belt fan slowed. The tunnel constricted. I hurried on. The flames danced just centimeters from the top of my fedora and I sunk down. Though my arm felt close to giving out, I whipped that belt like I was whipping a rented pegasus. Then I saw a break in the wall.

  “Ukobach needs your blood!” the demon yelled.

  I didn’t have much more strength in my arm. The flames closed in on me and I dove.

  I hit the sand and felt my right foot go up in flames. I stood and tried to stamp it out, but that just made the flames creep up my leg. Crap! I filled my hat with the white sand and poured it on my burning limb. It took three attempts to extinguish the fire. Now I was going to need new shoes and pants. This case was costing me an entire wardrobe.

  Ukobach slipped out of the fire wall, his poker raised high.

  “Ukobach is strong,” he said. “He is not to be trifled with.”

  “Trifle with this,” I said, after refilling my hat with sand. I reared back and threw it at the fire demon. The sand hit him smack dab in the face. The little flame curls around his head went out.

  “Ukobach’s hair!” he screamed. “Ukobach’s beautiful fire curls!”

  He dropped the poker and patted his head. He ran around in a circle, screaming, “Ukobach is bald! Ukobach is bald! Ukobach is bald!”

  Jeez, this guy was vain.

  I grabbed the poker and power-shambled out of there.

  “Ukobach cannot return to Hell like this!” I heard the demon shouting as I dashed around columns of flame. I soon discovered that, if I waved the poker, the flames moved. Like an orchestra conductor I whipped that poker through the air, conducting the flames away from me. It was smooth sailing until Ukobach regained his senses and came after me.

  “You bastard! You thief! Come back with my poker!”

  Though pokerless, Ukobach wasn’t without power.

  The flames grew brighter and more violent. Even with the poker, I was having a difficult time moving them out of my way. Flames shot at me from all sides. But never mind the flames, it was stifling hot. It was like being in the middle of the sun. Zombie sweat, the worst kind of sweat, covered me.

  As I ran up the lip of the pit, a dragon made of flames came screeching toward me. It belched a mouthful of fire at me. I waved the poker at the streaking column of flames and they vanished along with the dragon.

  Fire erupted from the ground, but through it I could see the edge of the pit just twenty feet above me. I rushed toward it, slashing the flames with the poker.

  “Thief! Give Ukobach back his poker!”

  He was right behind me. I turned to stick him with his poker, but it turned scorching hot and I dropped it. Ukobach laughed and picked up his instrument.

  I made a mad dash up the pit wall. Just feet from the top, my legs gave out. I tried crawling, but flames of rope wrapped around my ankles and dragged me down.

  Ukobach drew intricate patterns in the air with the poker, like a madman writing in his diary. He really was much uglier without the flaming hair. Maybe he could hide it with a hat or something.

  I’m still unsure of what happened next. There was a flutter and a growl and a screech. Then I was being pulled out of the pit. Arms wrapped around my chest. I looked down. They were hairy, muscular arms. They were the most beautiful arms I had ever seen.

  Ukobach sent up a wall of flame, but whoever dragged me away didn’t hesitate. My rescuer tossed us both through the flames and we tumbled onto the ground outside the Really Big Pit of Fire.

  Ukobach stood at the edge with his poker, jabbing it in my direction.

  “You really are trapped here, aren’t you?” I said after I stood.

  Ukobach sniffed and snorted fire and made an obscene gesture with his poker.

  I patted out the burning parts of my suit and came face to face with the Good Samaritan. Amazingly, he was uglier than Ukobach.

  8. Like a Bat Out of Hell

  As I approached, the bat man cowered.

  “Thanks for saving my life.” I extended my hand. The creature stepped back, eyeing me warily. “You did save my life, right? I mean you didn’t pull me out of the pit just to eat me?”

  He crouched and froze in place. The giant bat had a hunched back and apparently took baths in fire pits. Burn marks—angry red, raised scars—covered his face and body. Most of his fur was missing, with just a patch or three erupting randomly from his haunches and chest. The creature’s wing membranes were missing, too, though the bone structure remained. Perhaps Ukobach burned them off. The bat’s misshapen and bent form looked as if someone had taken it apart and rearranged it as a joke.

  The demon licked his bumpy, blistered lips.

  “So…are you from around here?” I asked.

  He bared bloodstained fangs.

  Just then, perhaps to break up the tension, the creature snatched up a purple lizard as it scampered by. He slit its throat with his teeth and lapped up the blood with a thick, flickering tongue. Great! My rescuer was a vampire, too.

  I gave no indication I was hungry for purple lizard, but the bat man said, “It’s mine!” He held the dripping lizard against his chest. “Mine!” he repeated and crammed what was left of the little bugger into his mouth. Purple blood oozed down the bat’s chin.

  “I must keep what is mine,” he said, then belched. A stench worse than a ghoul’s armpit after a ten-mile jog hit me head-on. I nearly gagged.

  “I wish I could repay you for saving me from the pit. I hope my thanks is enough.”

  “You can repay me with dust, zombie.” I didn’t like the way he said zombie. It felt as though he had a problem with my kind, but then I saw the hunger in his eyes. Another fookin dust-head.

  “Give me your address. I’ll send you some if I ever get my hands on the stuff.” He stuck his big, ugly head up to my chest and gave a sniff, his melted nostrils twitching like a demonic rabbit.

  “I can smell it,” he said.

  “That’s not dust, pally. Must have been something I had for lunch.”

  “I know fairy dust when I smell it.” The vampire bat stared into my eyes.

  “Look, I need that dust. It’s medicinal. Without it, I’ll eat half of Pandemonium. I’d love to help you, but it’s a life and death situation.”

  The bat shot out a clawed hand and, before I
could blink, he was holding up a baggie of dust.

  “Hey!”

  The bat laughed.

  “Not nice, boyo. Give it back.”

  He held up the dust, and when I tried to grab it, he snatched it away.

  “I am Camazotz the Thief. You cannot steal from me.”

  The creature glared at me like he had nothing to lose and I knew messing with him would be a mistake. “Listen, bats, keep it. Consider it payment in full. Now I’ll be going, okay? I have some saving to do myself. Fifty-two cats, to be exact.”

  The bat’s giddiness evaporated. He returned to his cowering bit and backed away from me. “Cats?” he asked.

  “Know anything about them? The goblins’ missing cats?”

  The bat shook his head. I wasn’t convinced.

  “Camazotz the Thief, huh? Steal any cats lately?”

  “No!” He spit on the ground. “Camazotz would never steal a cat!”

  “A thief with morals. I admire that. You must know other infernal thieves, though. Maybe there’s someone you know who likes kitty cats? Someone with a whisker fetish?”

  Zotzy kept shaking his head, like he was a real dunzy. He wouldn’t give up anything. Honor among thieves, I guess.

  “Maybe more dust will refresh your memory,” I said and forked over another baggie of the stuff. I nearly yanked it back, but the bat snatched it up. His eyes lit up like the worst addicts from ShadowShade’s dust dens.

  “Give me more!” he demanded.

  “When you give me the info, and only if it’s legit. This is the best batch of Special D you’ll ever come across, Zotzy. Real killer-diller. Believe me.”

  I could see the bat’s heart throbbing in his chest.

  “Another baggie and I’ll show you,” Zotzy said.

  “Half a bag and you’ll get it when we get there.”

  The bat man thought a moment, and then nodded.

  “Very well.”

  The burned demon didn’t budge, though. “First we must cross over Corpse Hill,” he said.

  “I’m great with corpses. They’re my people.”

  “It’s a haunted place.” The demon looked spooked.