Hell Cop

by David C. Burton

  I didn't bother being scared at the short freefall. Been there, done that. Even the scariest things can become mundane when inevitable and often repeated.

  We had five minutes of quiet flying time. Ixsess told us the end of the canyon was near. Once out we would rendezvous with Sneaker and the others. Then a fireball sizzled past. Brittany screamed. I cursed. Ixsess thought, Hold tight, and dropped into a steep dive.

  Another fireball whizzed past. I thought I heard Boam yell, “Getter!” then all I heard was the rush of wind.

  Ixsess folded in his wings and we fell and fell, faster and faster. I glanced back. Boam followed, close, eager, grinning. I looked forward, straight down, and the bottom, too, was close. Boiling, it seemed. All green and orange and purple. Hell's blood leaking.

  “Ixsess?”

  Hold, Getter. Soul, hold, too.

  Great, another “hold tight” maneuver. I expected the Skyhook to swoop up, or to the side, at least stay upright. Wrong. Instead, Ixsess, ducked his head, snapped his wings open, and rolled upside-down! Brittany screamed. I screamed. My feet shot straight out as the force of the turn tried to fling me into the unpleasantness of the gorge bottom. I had to jerk my feet up to avoid a bubbling yellow-green mass that reached out as we zipped by.

  Boam's Pragon reacted fast. Caught by surprise, his short wings didn't have the aerodynamic bite to execute such a tight turn on such short notice. I saw the sploosh, heard the flying demon's cry, saw the burst of flame as they smacked into the bottom.

  Captain Boam was an idiot, and I was glad to be rid of him. But still, better to face the enemy you know and all that crap. I wasn't as happy to see the last of him as I wanted to be.

  Ten minutes later, the canyon bottom rose to meet the rim. With great relief on my part we broke out onto the Styx Flat, a limitless, dun colored expanse of dust, dirt, and suffering. The souls deposited there had more to suffer through than parched heat and loneliness. Quickdirt, Gotcha Flowers, and Mudslugs were a few. Always in the distance were the Tantalus Storms, great thunderstorms that promised cool wind and clear water. Both of which vanished as the thirsty souls came near. In their wake they left Quickdries, mud holes that hardened quick enough to trap a soul. At the far edge of the Flats are Charon's Dunes, impenetrable to souls and the last barrier to Hell Cops headed to the River Styx. On the other side, Heaven Gate and Salvation.

  Once out of the canyon, Ixsess banked left and flew low along short cliffs, finally landing in front of a cave hidden from above. Gratefully, I touched solid ground. Brittany slid off into my arms. She was glad, too.

  Your friends inside, Ixsess said in my head.

  “Thank you,” I said out loud. Then I thought to him, “That's two times you have saved me. If I can help you sometime....?”

  It is a privilege to aid you in your destiny.

  “Oh, come on. I don't want to hear that destiny stuff,” I said, but Ixsess had flapped his broad wings and left us in a dust cloud.

  Destiny. The only thing I wanted to hear about Destiny was that he was back in Life drinking beer and enjoying his retirement. The demons could spook you with their “you're important to the future” crap.

  I took Brittany's hand, drew my gun, and on full alert entered the cave. Twenty feet in I saw them. They did not have happy faces.

  One of them was missing.

  Chapter Thirty-five

  “Mephisto has her,” Dimitri said.

  Gregory came up and laid a hand on my shoulder. “I am sorry, friend Getter,” he said. “She put up a hell of a fight. Killed two Pragons, at least ten minions, and a couple of officers, too. She's a feisty one, she is. But one of his captains finally got her.”

  Dimitri, pale, baggy eyed, and grim, limping, stood beside Gregory. “Cappy almost had her. He whipped some demon ass before ten of them piled on. He's got five or six knife and sword wounds as well as burns.” He whispered, “A couple are bad.”

  Cappy lay in a corner like a heap of bloody rags. Grace knelt beside him, wrapping an arm wound. He saw me, mustered a weak wave.

  “Where did they take her?” I asked.

  “Oww.” Brittany tried to yank her hand from mine.

  “Sorry,” I said. The idea that Sneaker was with Mephisto had me all tense. “Sorry. Why don't you go help Grace?”

  “Where is she?” I asked again.

  “The Skyhooks are looking,” Gregory said, unhappy with his ignorance.

  “He wants me,” I said.

  “Aye, and the young soul, I think.”

  There wasn't much more to say after that. Grace and Brittany tended Cappy. Dimitri had a jagged rip in his leg that oozed blood. I helped him lay down. That was all I could do for him.

  Cappy waved me over. His face was gray, voice weak and cracked. “Getter, I'm sorry, man. I almost had her. Just too damn many of them. And I'm so damn weak. Sorry. Sorry.”

  “It's all right, Cappy,” I told him. “If you couldn't get to her, nobody could.”

  Cappy smiled, then went away for awhile.

  Grace, burned and blood-stained, slumped against the rock. She shrugged and shook her head. She didn't think he would make it.

  I sat next to Gregory. He handed me a water bottle, and I took a small sip. I wanted to do something—go in guns blazing, sword slashing, fists striking—something. Sneaker had become important to my life in the past few days. We fit.

  In Sanctuary, for the first time, we spent time together in a sort of neutral zone. No business, or errands, or TV. No demons, or suffering, or lost souls. R&R time for our little family of three. My eyes sometimes got misty when Brittany laughed. Not only because of what she went through in Life, but for what might have been had my little girl survived.

  Sneaker once caught me wiping my eyes. She said nothing, just hugged me. She knew. She had mentioned more than once she had no desire to have kids. They didn't fit her chosen profession. Watching her with Brittany proved the maternal instinct still alive within her. And the paternal instinct in me. I wanted to take care of them, keep them happy and safe. Not a fit with my chosen profession, either.

  I was desperate to save Sneaker, but my duty as a Hell Cop was to get Brittany to Heaven. Duty or love? I spent fifteen minutes juggling consequences before I couldn't sit still any longer and went to the cave mouth to wait news.

  Brittany came and sat beside me. The touch of her arm against mine a bare tickle.

  “How's Cappy?” I asked.

  “Grace says he might die.”

  “We have to get him to Heaven Gate. He can get help there. If he dies at least he'll be in Heaven. I need to get you there, too.”

  “But what about Sneaker?” Brittany asked, her tone all but accusing me of abandoning her.

  “My duty is to you first,” I said, hating it as I said it.

  “But you love her, don't you?”

  Well, there it was. I'd never told Sneaker that. I'd never admitted it to myself. Did I even know what love was? Since my wife died there'd been affection, fondness, even closeness, but no love. There was no room for love in Hell. Only duty to the soul and personal survival. Love could distract you, make you do something stupid. Make you risk your soul or your life. Go against the Hell Cop Code that I adhered to. Love did not fit my chosen profession.

  “Yeah, I do love her,” I said.

  “Then you have to rescue her,” Brittany said with simple, obvious, child logic.

  “After I get you to Heaven Gate.”

  “No, Getter. I'm already dead. Sneaker isn't.”

  I couldn't argue with that logic. Though I tried. We finally struck a deal. Brittany, Grace, and Gregory would help Cappy and Dimitri to Heaven Gate. I would go after Sneaker. Gregory wanted to go with me, but Brittany convinced him that the rest needed him.

  A dust cloud appeared on the horizon. I alerted the others. Out of sight, inside the cave, we tracked the cloud's progress. Nobody suggested it wasn't coming straight at us. Brittany lay beside me, Cappy's knife clutched in her hand. I hoped
she wouldn't have to die again.

  As the cloud came closer, our expressions grew grimmer.

  A whoosh and a snap of wings from above made us all jump. Damn! I almost shot Ixsess as he landed right outside the cave.

  Do not be frightened, I heard in my head.

  “Easy for you to say,” I said. “What's in the dust?”

  Taurs.

  As far as I knew, Taurs were a totally stupid and useless herd beast that did nothing but roam around the plain raising dust clouds and trampling souls and Hell Cops. They had a six legged, lizard-like lower body with an upright upper body, a grotesque parody of the legendary Centaurs.

  “Taurs?” I said. “Why are they coming here?”

  Too dangerous to fly to Heaven Gate. Taurs ignored by all.

  Dimitri limped to the cave mouth and peered at the approaching dust cloud. “You want us to walk with them?”

  No, Ixsess said. Ride.

  “Ride? You can't ride a Taur. They're not ridable or trainable. They're just dumb animals.”

  I shared Dimitri's skepticism. The things ignored everybody and went where they wanted, fast.

  The herd came to a stop a hundred feet from the cave. Hot wind cleared the dust. About fifteen Taurs, their amphibian, reptilian, simian, canine, feline heads turned in our direction, returned our interest. One stepped forward, its six legged gait smooth and assured, but still creepy. It stopped beside Ixsess. They looked at each other for half a minute, then faced us.

  “I am Flipsit,” the Taur said with authority. Dimitri and I exchanged glances. Dumb animals? “We have come to take you to the River Styx.”

  I admit I was flabbergasted at this turn of events. A Taur speaking, offering help? “Ixsess, how, why?” I asked with my usual eloquence.

  Demon armies not treated the Taur well. They will help you, Getter.

  I didn't like the way he emphasized you. “They will help the others, too?”

  They are with you.

  “Why does that matter?”

  They have heard the prophecy.

  “Oh, that again.” I didn't care for that prophecy business, but if they did, I might as well use it. “Ixsess, do you know where Sneaker is?”

  Yes. Mephisto is camped by the Fire Cliffs.

  “Can you or Flipsit take me there?”

  After a quick discussion, Ixsess thinking and Flipsit speaking some gobbledygook, between them, while ignoring me, they decided I should be taken to Heaven Gate where I'd be safe.

  I dissented.

  They said it would be best.

  I ignored them. Gregory and Dimitri, after our own discussion about coming with me, swore to take Brittany, Grace, and Cappy to Heaven Gate with the Taurs.

  I sat down on a rock in front of Brittany.

  “Brittany, as a Hell Cop, my first duty is to the soul I'm retrieving. That's you. My own safety and the safety of other Hell Cops is secondary. We all accept that, and I have always lived by that code. Sneaker needs my help, and I have to help her. If I didn't think you'd be safe with Gregory and Dimitri, I wouldn't leave you.”

  “Getter,” Brittany said, voice plaintive enough to break your heart.

  I went on before she could continue. “Sneaker has become important to me. I can't let Mephisto hurt her. Do you understand?”

  Brittany gave me a look that only a ten year old who has it all figured out could give. “Of course you have to save Sneaker. You love her. I want to go with you.”

  “No.”

  “But I love her, too.”

  “I know, but you and Grace have to go to Heaven.”

  “I can help.”

  “It's too dangerous.”

  “But I'm already dead!” she said, exasperated with this dense adult.

  She did have a point, except I wanted to keep her well away from Mephisto. We went around and around a few times. In the end, she stomped off in a huff, murmuring things that would not help her get into Heaven.

  There was more discussion. I played the prophecy card—how could I fulfill the prophecy if I hid out at the Heaven Gate? They of course said how could I fulfill the prophecy if Mephisto tortured and killed me. I won anyway.

  We strapped Cappy on the back of a muscular Taur called Catsit. Cappy was in a bad way. I doubted he'd make it. We had to try.

  Good-byes and good lucks all around. A hug from Grace, light as a butterdie's embrace. A harder one from still pouting Brittany. A finger wave from Dimitri. Gregory took my hand and pressed an object into it. He handed me my staff. “I found this back in Sanctuary,” he said, with a wry smile. “Thought you might have use of it.” A bow from Flipsit and they were off in a concealing cloud of dust.

  I tied the staff to my pack and, without a word, climbed on Ixsess's back, and he took off low and fast, and with any luck unseen, toward the Fire Cliffs.

  Chapter Thirty-six

  Hell Cops take their oath seriously. You have to, considering where we work. The souls come first. Guilt for leaving Brittany gnawed at me as Ixsess carried me along the edge of the Styx Plain to approach the Fire Cliffs from behind. I almost told him to turn back. I managed to doze off instead. Sneaker needed me. I had to be ready, guilt or no.

  The Fire Cliffs stretch about a mile long. Burnt black rock rises a thousand feet straight out of the plain, and a jumble of cracked, broken, and exploded rock tapers back a quarter mile to die into the flat plain. The sheer face is pockmarked with caves and indentations that randomly spout flame. Sometimes small flickers, sometimes great whooshing jets. Mephisto camped in front of the cliffs among boulders blasted from the cliff face by eons of fire.

  There was one passage through the ragged rock behind the cliffs that came out at the base. I'd never been through it. Just heard the stories, and it was in my Find. Ixsess flew undetected around to the back and landed. We ducked under an overhang out of sight of patrolling Pragons.

  Is price to pay for passage, Ixsess thought at me.

  “What price?” I asked. I'd heard of that, too.

  I know not. Only must be paid. Will listen for when return safe. And he was gone.

  On full alert, I jogged through the stones, the way obvious, only one path possible. The stones grew larger, and I climbed higher while still exposed to curious Pragons. Twice I had to duck for cover from overflying patrols.

  After fifteen minutes I emerged from a long, narrow passage to face two cave openings carved into the base of a hundred foot rock wall. No sign indicated which one to take. The Find told me to continue straight ahead. No help there. I took a few steps into each, flashed my light. Nothing but black, and a stomach churning stench.

  I looked for a way up and over. Nothing but smooth flat rock. I looked back the way I'd come. Nothing but smooth flat rock. The passage had vanished. Trapped. Great.

  “Are you losst, Liffer?”

  “No.”

  The voice, a smarmy, lispy thing came from above me. I drew my gun and searched for the source. Nothing.

  “Yesss.”

  I saw movement at the corner of my eye. Spun right. It moved too fast. Quick spin left. Then back right. Caught it.

  “Clever, Liffer.” The creature changed color to a fire orange as it scuttled across the slick vertical rock to a position above the cave entrances.

  A Golem. I'd only seen one before. Four feet long from stumpy tail tip to thick lipped gash of a mouth in a blob of a head. It clung to the rock with four stubby legs with six sucker toes. A long dark something on its back. Its whole body oozed with a milky, snotty substance that dripped down then sucked back up. Thick lids squinted over dark eyes that regarded me upside down. I wondered if Tolkien took his inspiration from this creature or the other way around. I'd have to check the history.

  “You sseek way to the Fire Cliffsss,” it said.

  “Yes,” I said. “Can you tell me which passage to take?”

  “Oh, yess.”

  “Will you tell me?”

  “You mussst pay.”

  “What is the pr
ice?”

  “Do you agree to pay?” the Golem insisted.

  “Tell me the price.”

  “Agree firsst.”

  “If I don't pay?”

  “Lossst, then die.”

  “If I want to go back?”

  “No go back. Pay or die.”

  I looked at the trap I was in. Scanned with the Find. The space was definitely smaller, pushing me to the caves. What choice did I have?

  “I'll pay.”

  “Yess. Yess. Pay or die. Ffollow.”

  The Golem wriggled into the right hand cave.

  I put in nose filters and followed. The cave was pitch black. I switched on my flashlight.

  “No light! No light!” the Golem screeched.

  I switched it off.

  “Come. Come. No die yet.”

  The stench overpowered my filters. Rotten eggs, skunk, and overheated outhouse times a hundred. My eyes watered. I stopped to retch twice.

  Faint, flickering light appeared ahead. The passage opened into a small, rough chamber about twenty feet in diameter. Dead things were piled on one side. A trickle of water formed a small pool on the floor. Flames guttered from holes in the walls. I wondered why the place didn't explode, as thick as the rank fumes were.

  The Golem lay splayed out on a raised flat stone. Its saucer eyes, wide in the dimness, watched me. I was truly lost, and it knew it.

  “I have to get to the Cliffs,” I said. “What is your price?”

  “Sscratch back,” it said.

  Scratch its back? I'd rather stick my arm up a Dinocat's ass than touch a Golem.

  “Sscratch back. Now is time,” the Golem said. Its voice was filled with urgency, almost pleading. Its body squirmed as if trying to scratch its back on something that wasn't there.

  Clenching my teeth to keep from vomiting, I knelt beside the creature. I slipped on a glove.

  “No glove. No glove,” the Golem insisted.

  Oh, the hell with it. I took it off and slowly reached out and pushed my fingers into the covering goo. I'd expected cold and clammy and sticky, but the ooze was warm and thick. I rubbed a few inches of the Golem's skin. It was tight, surprisingly rough. It sighed.