First Circle Club

by Alex Siegel

"Yes. How can I help you?" he said.

  "We all need fake identification and phones. A friend told us you could take care of us. We'll pay you a fair price in gold coins."

  Virgil expected Mr. Li to plead ignorance, but Alfred's heavenly voice did its job.

  "Can I see the money?" Li said.

  Sara poured out some gold coins onto the counter.

  He picked up a coin and held it up to the light. "This is real?"

  "Absolutely," Alfred said.

  "What are these strange markings?"

  "I actually don't know. How many do you want?"

  Virgil shook his head in disbelief at the level of trust on both sides of the negotiation.

  "What kind of identification?" Li said.

  "Something official," Alfred said. "FBI? No, that's too bold. Illinois State Police."

  "Hmm. Expensive. Pretending to be a cop is a serious crime. So is helping somebody pretend to be a cop."

  "Name your price. All four of us need ID."

  Li studied his customers for a moment and then looked down at the gold. "Ten coins."

  "It's a deal."

  Alfred slid ten coins across the counter and put the rest back in the bag.

  Virgil rolled his eyes. The sucker didn't even haggle when he gave away our gold, he thought.

  Mr. Li went to the front door of the shop and locked it. "My daughter handles this part of the business. Please, follow me."

  Li went through a doorway into the rear of the shop where crates of merchandise were stacked floor to ceiling. Only a few bare bulbs provided light, and the bulbs formed strange spirals.

  He walked over to a blank section of a wall and knocked loudly. "You have customers."

  After a moment, a hidden door popped open, and a Chinese girl peered out. She was tall and skinny. Her long hair was dyed dark red with black highlights. A red dress showed off her enviable figure. Virgil was smitten by her beauty, and he particularly liked her face which held an exotic allure. He had always had a thing for Asian women. This girl was exactly his type.

  "This is my daughter, Mei," Mr. Li said. "She'll take care of you. Mei, these people want state police identification."

  Mei's eyes widened. "Oh."

  "They also need clean cell phones."

  She bobbed her head. "Come into my workshop, please." She went back into her secret room.

  Virgil had to turn sideways to squeeze through the doorway. "Wow!" he said as he looked around.

  Electronic components and tools filled shelves which covered all the walls. A cabinet with clear plastic drawers held many types of wire, screws, and nuts. A work table was so cluttered, there was hardly space to work on it. Her computer system had the biggest screens Virgil had ever seen in his life.

  "This is all your stuff?" he said.

  Mei blushed slightly. "Yes."

  "Impressive."

  The rest of the team entered the room and murmured with admiration.

  "Thank you for helping us," Alfred said in a voice that gushed with sincerity. "You have our eternal gratitude, and I really mean that."

  Mei blushed some more. "I need to take pictures of your faces," she said quickly. "Stand over there."

  She grabbed a camera off a shelf. It had a lot more buttons than Virgil was used to seeing on a camera, but she obviously knew what she was doing. She pointed to one of the few blank spots on the walls.

  Virgil stood in the indicated location and put on a grim expression suitable for a state trooper. Mei took several pictures. Instead of a normal shutter noise as expected, the camera just made a soft click. He wondered if cameras still had shutters.

  Sara took the next turn in front of the camera.

  While Mei was taking pictures, Virgil sidled up to the girl. "That's a fancy camera."

  She nodded. "Yes."

  "Can you get the film developed today? We're in a hurry."

  "Film?" She gave him a funny look out of the corner of her eye.

  "The film in the camera."

  She stopped taking pictures and stared at him as if he were speaking a foreign language. "What are you talking about?"

  "Cameras still use film, right?" Virgil asked in a hesitant tone.

  "Only the ones in museums," Mei said.

  He decided to close his mouth before another ignorant statement came out of it. He stepped away. His attempt to flirt had failed badly.

  Alfred was next. He smiled pleasantly as Mei photographed his face.

  Virgil heard a loud banging outside the room. He squeezed through the secret door to investigate. Somebody was pounding on the front door of the shop, and he went to see who it was.

  Virgil saw three young Chinese men through the window. They had no shirts, and elaborate tattoos covered their torsos. They were wearing tight-fitting jeans and running shoes. Black hair was cut short in an almost military style. All three were yelling, but Virgil didn't understand a word.

  Mr. Li unlocked the door. The men shoved the door open and knocked the shopkeeper down. He cowered on the floor as the thugs continued to verbally abuse him in Chinese.

  "Hey!" Virgil yelled. "Stop that! What do you think you're doing?"

  He noticed Lisa had joined him. He could already tell she was the kind of woman who had a nose for trouble.

  One of the thugs walked over. "This is our business. Get out of here." He snarled and breathed on Virgil's face.

  "No," Virgil said. "I also have business here."

  Mr. Li stood up. "It's OK. Let me take care of these fine gentleman."

  He went to the cash register and opened the drawer. He pulled out a bundle of cash.

  "Hold on," Lisa said. "Is this a shake-down? You're paying off these assholes?"

  "Keep your nose out of this, blacky," a thug said.

  Her eyes widened. "What did you say?"

  "I've never kissed a negro." He leered at her. "Do you taste like chocolate?"

  Virgil tried to stop her, but he was too slow. She launched herself across the room, and her fist connected solidly with the thug's jaw. The impact sounded painful. He went down hard.

  His two friends moved in. She took out one with a spinning kick into his gut, driving the air from his lungs. The force of the blow threw his entire body backwards.

  The third and final thug managed to grab Lisa's arm. He attempted to get leverage, but she pushed back with equal strength. She put her hand on his bare chest.

  He let out a high-pitched scream of agony. She removed her hand, and a wound was left behind in the exact same shape. Swollen skin had turned shades of red, blue, and purple. It looked like a burn which had become infected. He collapsed, clutching his chest.

  His two friends staggered out of the shop. They had had enough.

  Sara, Alfred, and Mei arrived. Sara ran to the downed thug and examined his injury.

  Virgil angled for a better look. Lisa's touch had caused the skin to instantly rot. Scraps were hanging off, revealing the meat underneath. Yellow puss was oozing from the wound. Virgil was glad he didn't have a stomach so he couldn't throw up.

  "What did you do to him?" Sara said.

  "I'm not sure," Lisa said. "I didn't like how he grabbed me. I wanted to hurt him."

  "You certainly accomplished that! This man could get gangrene!"

  The thug was moaning in pain, and his wound was hideous. Virgil actually felt sorry for him.

  Sara had a strange look on her face. She leaned down and began to blow gently on the wound. He wondered what she was trying to accomplish. Did she think her breath would cool the pain?

  Miraculously, that is exactly what happened. The discoloration faded, and the oozing stopped. Every time she exhaled, more fresh skin grew. After just a minute, the injury had vanished without a trace, and even the tattoos in the area were gone.

  Instead of being grateful, the thug had an expression of terror. He broke away from Sara and ran out of the shop.

  Virgil sighed. This won't have a happy ending, he thought.

  He tu
rned to find Mr. Li and his daughter clutching each other fearfully.

  Alfred approached them with his hands open. "Calm down," he said. "There is nothing to be afraid of. I'm not allowed to explain what just happened, but I assure you you're in no danger."

  His special voice worked its magic, and both of them immediately relaxed. The tension in the room dissipated.

  "How did you hurt him?" Mr. Li asked Lisa. Then he turned to Sara. "Or heal him? What just happened?"

  "It's a secret," Sara said. "I wish we could tell you, but that's impossible. Alfred is right about you being safe though."

  "We're not safe at all. Those guys will be back with reinforcements. They'll destroy my store in retribution. They might even kidnap Mei." Mr. Li squeezed Mei's hand.

  Virgil frowned. "Who were they?"

  "The Nightshade Gang. They control Chinatown. We should run while we can!"

  "Not yet. My team got you into this mess, and we'll get you out. You're not going to lose your livelihood because one of my associates acted impulsively." Virgil gave Lisa a dirty look.

  "Sorry," she mumbled. "I lost my temper. I'll make it right. Where does this gang hang out?"

  "No!" Virgil shook his head. "We're supposed to keep a low profile, and you don't seem to be good at that. You'll protect the Li's while Alfred and I go."

  "What are you planning to do?" Sara said.

  "Talk to the boss, I guess. Maybe we can persuade him the whole thing was a misunderstanding. We'll give him some gold to make it all right."

  "Thank you for wanting to help," Mr. Li said, "but this plan is foolish. The boss will steal your gold and have your arms broken as a lesson to the rest of us. He won't listen to reason."

  "Let us worry about that," Virgil said. "I'm a pretty tough guy, and Alfred can be very... convincing. Just take us there.

  Mr. Li sighed. "If you wish. Follow me."

  Virgil took the money bag from Sara. Then he and Alfred followed Mr. Li outside.

  The setting sun was casting long shadows. Virgil realized his first day back on Earth was almost at an end. He hoped to have many more, but that seemed unlikely. He tried to commit everything he saw to memory so he would have that much at least when he was back in Hell.

  Mr. Li led the way across Chinatown. He stuck to the alleys, and his head swiveled back and forth. Virgil and Alfred followed several paces back.

  "It's interesting," Alfred murmured. "Sara and Lisa have complementary abilities. One heals and the other injures."

  "That would make some sense," Virgil replied. "Heaven and Hell are working together. They would want balanced representation on our team."

  "And I can inspire happiness and trust. I fill people with the light of Heaven. Perhaps you do the opposite?"

  "The terror of Hell? I'll give it a try at some point."

  "How about when we meet the Nightshade boss?" Alfred said. "It will be a useful experiment."

  "I was expecting you to keep everybody calm. Now you want the opposite?"

  "We need to know your capabilities. The rest of us have very substantial powers, and I'm sure you're the same. Better to find out now when it doesn't matter so much."

  Virgil furrowed his brow. "I guess so. Feel free to jump in if it starts to go badly though."

  "Of course."

  "You know, you act nice, but underneath the skin, you're a troublemaker."

  "Yeah." Alfred snorted. "That's why I barely got into Heaven."

  "What was Sara's issue? Why didn't she reach a higher level?"

  Alfred shrugged. "I don't know."

  Li was leading them through a residential area now. Two and three-story townhomes stood close together with minimal front yards. Iron fences separated public from private spaces. Some of the homes used octagonal windows, bright red frames, and other distinctly Chinese flourishes.

  Li stopped and pointed to a white stone townhouse on a street corner. "The Nightshades are in there."

  "OK," Virgil said. "Go back to your store and stay safe. Hide in that secret room with Mei."

  Li jogged away.

  Virgil and Alfred approached the home. Two shirtless punks were sitting on the front steps. One had an aluminum baseball bat within easy reach, and the other had a crowbar. They were clearly members of the same gang as the ones before.

  "How do you activate your power?" Virgil said.

  "It's pretty much automatic," Alfred said. "I just think about Heaven and start talking. The Lord's love flows out with my voice."

  "So I should think about Hell."

  "Try it."

  Virgil walked over to the gangsters. "We want to talk to your boss."

  "We don't have a boss," a punk replied with a smirk. "We're a harmless youth group."

  Virgil thought about Hell. He recalled the shameful, desolate feeling which came from being a damned soul. He remembered the torments suffered by those condemned to the Plain of Fire. The cruelty of the demons was fresh in his mind. That anguish flowed out through his eyes as he gazed at the two gangsters.

  They blanched, and their faces twisted in fear.

  "I want to talk to your boss now," Virgil commanded.

  They scrambled up the steps as fast as their legs could carry them, leaving their weapons behind.

  One gangster threw open the door and said through chattering teeth, "He's upstairs, sir!"

  Virgil smirked.

  "Very effective," Alfred murmured.

  The two dead men entered the house. Six gangsters were smoking pot, watching television, and cleaning guns in a shabby living room. They stood up immediately when they saw Virgil and Alfred.

  "Who are you?" a young man demanded.

  Virgil decided to push his new ability as far as he could.

  "I'm a walking nightmare," he said in a grim voice, "an incarnation of death. Take me to your boss."

  He used his terrifying gaze on all the gangsters, and the dramatic results were almost comical. Some fell to their knees and wailed with fear, and others sprinted out of the room. One idiot ran straight into a wall.

  "Maybe you should turn it down a notch," Alfred said softly.

  Virgil nodded. "Good idea. Does it work on you?"

  "Not that I can tell."

  "Well, your voice doesn't work on me either. I guess we're immune to each other."

  "Makes sense," Alfred said.

  None of the gangsters appeared eager to guide Virgil, so he decided to find his own way to the boss. He and Alfred climbed a steep flight of stairs to the second floor.

  The walls of the house were painted a cheerful yellow, but grime had dulled the color. An occasional hole punched in the drywall made Virgil wonder what the gangsters did for fun.

  He heard men chattering angrily in Chinese. He guessed they were discussing what had happened at Mr. Li's shop. The sound drew Virgil to a large room in the corner of the second floor. It had once been a bedroom, but now it served as a kind of throne room.

  Virgil walked in. A man sitting on a golden chair had to be the boss of the Nightshades. Virgil guessed he was in his fifties. He was wearing a traditional black Chinese outfit with a silky sheen. Frameless glasses with small lenses were perched on his nose. He had a cigarette in his hand, and smoke clouded the air.

  The three young men from the shop were talking all at once. They didn't notice Virgil's arrival at first.

  Other gangsters in the room were more observant. Two were standing by the door, and two more were behind the boss. All of them drew guns from holsters on their hips.

  The conversation stopped, and all eyes turned towards Virgil.

  He decided on a tactic. "I am Aamon, the Demon of Wrath," he said in a grim voice. "Look into my eyes and see the fires of Hell which await you."

  Virgil glared at the men in the room, and as his gaze fell upon them, they shrank back in fear. He snarled menacingly.

  One of the gangsters fired his gun, and the bullet struck Virgil in the chest. The impact made him step back. He looked down at the wound whi
ch was leaking black tar. It didn't hurt, but the damage was annoying, and his new suit was ruined.

  Virgil responded with his strongest stare. The shooter was a young punk with spiky hair and a dragon tattoo on his chest. He made a squeaking noise, dropped his gun, and covered his face with his arms. A wet stain spread across his groin.

  It wasn't enough for Virgil who didn't like being the victim of attempted murder. He walked up to the punk and slugged him in the jaw. Virgil heard a crack as a bone broke, and he realized he was stronger than he expected. The punk collapsed to the floor and remained still.

  The room became very quiet for a moment.

  "What do you want?" the boss said in a trembling voice.

  "The good people of Chinatown are now under my protection," Virgil said. "You must end your evil ways immediately. The assault on Mr. Li today was the last straw. If you or your gangsters do anything like that again, I'll be back to take your soul straight to Hell."

  He used his gaze to bathe the boss in shame. Virgil was discovering he could fine-tune his ability by thinking about different aspects of Hell, and shame was a big part of the torment.

  The boss broke down and sobbed openly. "I will change! I promise!"

  "I'm glad," Virgil said in a stern tone. "Good bye."

  He and Alfred went down the stairs and left the house. They headed back towards Mr. Li's shop at a brisk pace.

  "That was impressive," Alfred said.

  Virgil smiled. "Thanks, and nobody got seriously hurt."

  "Except that you were shot, and I think that kid will be eating through a straw for a month."

  Virgil looked down at his chest. The wound had already closed even though the bullet was still inside his chest. He wondered if that was a problem. The ruined suit was definitely an issue.

  "I need a change of clothes."

  "Yes," Alfred said. "The Aamon story didn't make much sense, by the way. Why would a demon want to stop evil on Earth?"

  "I thought of the idea on the spot," Virgil said. "It worked, didn't it?"

  "I suppose so."

  As Virgil walked past a side mirror on a car, he saw something strange. Instead of reflecting the street, it had become a window into a dark place. He stopped and turned to take a closer look. The mirror was cracked and dusty, but his initial impression had been right. He saw a smoky tunnel illuminated by pools of red lava.