Hell's Detective

by Michael Logan

  30

  I pushed my jalopy to its limits, trying to ram the accelerator through the floor. The engine shrieked and shuddered, begging for respite from the relentless punishment I was forcing it to endure. I sympathized. Traffic was light; everybody ensconced in the den of iniquity of their choice, so there was nothing to impede me as I tore down Route 666. Unfortunately, Franklin would have made good time too. I’d seen how fast the Ammit could move, and I doubted it would slow him down even if it were lolloping along behind his car, scaring twelve bells of shit out of the other motorists.

  My fears were confirmed when I saw the panicked crowds streaming out of the Lucky Deal, shedding chips like confetti. Gunfire crackled as I screeched to a halt fifty feet away, unable to force my way through the fleeing mob. I jumped out without turning off the engine and pushed my way toward the entrance, gun in hand. At the top of the steps, I heard a voice shout my name above the hubbub. I looked up the street and saw Yolanda running toward me at the head of the pack that had been staking out my house. Either they’d heard the shooting and decided to investigate or, like Franklin, they’d heard the tales about my relationship with Flo and had been watching his place to see what I was up to.

  I was about to ignore them and plunge inside when it occurred to me that they could be useful. I could see through the doors from where I stood. The Ammit was bounding around the room, trying to clear a path for Franklin, whom I couldn’t spot amidst the chaos of running bodies. Bullets fizzed through the air, some of them thudding into the beast with no visible effect, most of them missing the moving target and shredding the tables, chandeliers, and unfortunate gamblers who hadn’t made good their escape. Franklin couldn’t have reached the stairs yet, packed as they were with a phalanx of brown suits unloading their weapons. They couldn’t hold off the Ammit forever. I needed as much bedlam as possible, more firepower to delay the thing until Laureen arrived.

  “If it isn’t the invisible woman,” Yolanda said, stopping beside me. “How’d you pull the disappearing act?”

  A stray bullet chipped plaster off a column. I ducked. Yolanda didn’t even twitch.

  “There’s no time for that now,” I said as the stragglers arrived and crowded around her. “You know the item your boss wants so badly? It’s in the casino, and somebody’s trying to steal it.”

  “Something, you mean.”

  So they’d been watching the casino and had seen the Ammit. That would make them more reticent to enter the battle. “Doesn’t matter. In a few minutes, the item’s going to be out of your boss’s hands for good. I doubt he’s going to be pleased about that.”

  I didn’t wait for her reaction. I ran into the casino and, bent double, made for the cover of a row of fruit machines, still blinking their merry lights and promising jackpots to the unresponsive bodies sprawled on the floor. I peeked around the corner and saw the Ammit, crouched atop a blackjack table amid scattered cards, slurp up one of Flo’s crew like a strand of spaghetti. It jumped off the table, disregarding the bullets disappearing into its body like rocks into quicksand. It looked like it was going to munch through every single person in the room until it opened up a route for Franklin. It padded forward, targeting another brown suit. He was on his haunches, shuffling away and pulling the trigger of his obviously empty gun. As the Ammit lowered its thick neck toward him, a bullet aimed at his attacker hammered into the top of his skull. He flopped dead to the ground. The Ammit stopped, peering from side to side in a myopic manner, and stepped over the body to fasten its maw on the head of a blue-haired old lady in fake pearls quivering under the next table.

  Franklin had to be out there somewhere, probably working his way forward behind the rows of gaming tables. I was about to do the same thing when fresh tracers streaked across the room, this time emanating from the front door. The other crews had joined the fray, the fear of their employers’ wrath overcoming their reticence to venture into the charnel house. They concentrated fire on the Ammit at first, with as little success as the others. When some of the brown suits turned their guns on the intruders, no doubt thinking they were part of the assault, it became a deafening free-for-all. Bodies hit the ground faster, and fragments of wood, plaster, concrete, and flesh dappled the air. Above and behind the Ammit, fresh dust devils coalesced, drawing together the detritus in their attempts to find form.

  I dropped to my stomach and crawled up the side aisle until I was within ten feet of the stairs. The Ammit’s mismatched feet were visible beneath the tables, plodding ever closer to the last barricade to Danny’s sanctuary. I prayed to the God who had forsaken me for Laureen to get here soon. In a matter of seconds, the beast would be among the group on the stairs, which the bullets of Yolanda and the others had thinned out considerably. Neither God nor Laureen were anywhere to be seen as the Ammit leaped out of sight. I stuck my head up in time to see a pair of shiny loafers disappear into its mouth. Some of the defenders ran up the stairs; others dove over the banister to get away from the creature. The Ammit stood on the bodies of those who’d recently died, seemingly unaware that they were prey, and stood stock still in a momentary lapse of fire.

  I kept my eyes peeled for Franklin, ready to put a bullet in him the moment he dashed for the breach his monster had created. He was directing the Ammit, so I figured if I put him out of commission for a few minutes, it would return to the casino floor to feast rather than take the stairs. Sure enough, Franklin popped up from behind a roulette wheel and streaked for the Ammit. I raised my gun, but as I pulled the trigger, a bullet punched me in the calf. My shot went high and wide. Franklin burrowed underneath the Ammit. Up the stairs it stalked, body low to the ground to provide maximum cover for its master.

  I tried to rise, to get close enough for an accurate shot, but my leg gave way beneath me. From the grating, bone-deep pain, I could tell the bullet had shattered my shin. It would take me ten minutes to haul my body up the steps after Franklin, bleeding and growing fainter all the way. My one option was to reset and hope the two minutes or so I would be out didn’t cost Danny his life. I put the gun in mouth, feeling an awful sense of déjà vu, and squeezed the trigger to send my mind dark.

  When I sat up, blood was lapping at my feet—my own mingled with the gallons spilled in the battle. Gunfire continued as the dead resurrected and restarted the futile process of blowing holes in each other. Nobody was guarding the stairs now; they were all farther forward, firing in the direction of the entrance. I duck walked to the edge of the table and, without further ado, burst into the open. I’d almost made the top of the first flight when a bullet splintered the handrail. The next one entered my back. Blood sprayed from my chest as it exited.

  “This is getting ridiculous!” I shouted, pitching forward into death for what felt like the millionth time that day.

  I was already running before I was fully alert again, almost crying with frustration and fear. Franklin was at least five minutes ahead of me; he had to be in the apartment by now. My only hope lay in the fact that he couldn’t kill Danny straightaway. He had to extract the exact location of the box from him. Danny wasn’t stupid—he would give it up under the threat of the Ammit, but he would take his time leading Franklin through and opening the safe. There was still a chance I could save him.

  This time I made it out of the firing line from the floor below. I ran with my gun before me, in case I met some of Danny’s trigger-happy crew who mistook me for an attacker. There was nothing on the way up, not even a single body. The door had yet to be replaced, so I hauled ass up the hallway. Outside the bedroom, I forced myself to stop. I couldn’t afford to burst in and lose the element of surprise. My best bet was to creep in and put a bullet into Franklin before he realized what was happening. I had no plan for dealing with the Ammit afterward. I was hoping inspiration would strike.

  The door was ajar, although I couldn’t see much of the dimly lit room through the crack. I inserted the gun barrel and eased it open. The Ammit was squatting by the walk-in closet, its back
to me. Voices drifted through from the control room. My heart soared despite the Ammit’s malevolent influence. Danny was still intact. I crouched and pointed the gun toward the closet. Franklin would have to come out, which meant I would have a clear shot at him. Once he was down, I could only hope it would confuse the beast long enough for Danny and me to get a head start.

  The voices grew louder, and clothes rustled. They were coming out of the chamber. The Ammit half rose, jaws parting as it saw another meal coming. Danny appeared first, bleeding from a cut above his eye and darting glances at the Ammit. I chanced putting my hand through the crack in the door and waggling my fingers. He saw me and froze. I held up the gun, jerked it as if firing, then walked my fingers in the air to mime running. He blinked long and slow to indicate he’d understood. All I needed now was for Franklin to show his face so I could splatter it.

  “I know I promised I would let you go if you gave me the box,” Franklin said from inside the closet, “but I already promised your girlfriend I’d let the Ammit have you. One of those promises has to be broken, I’m afraid, and since I made hers first . . .”

  At an unspoken command, the Ammit opened its mouth. Danny tried to back into the closet, but Franklin’s hand appeared and shoved him in the small of the back. I caught a glimpse of Danny’s eyes, wide and filled with sorrow, before the beast’s snout obscured his face. I was about to dash into the room to throw myself on its back when I remembered what I’d seen on the casino floor, how the Ammit had passed over the dead in favor of squirming prey. I knew what I had to do. Our lives had come full circle back to a moment where I pointed a gun at Danny and shot him dead. Only this time it would save him. The beast’s mouth was closing as I took careful aim at Danny’s heart and, filled with the awful memory of the Nimrod Motel, pulled the trigger. The bullet hit him full in the chest. He dropped on the spot, blood spurting from the wound. I cried out, fighting against the images of him dying in my arms. The Ammit reared back and turned its soulless eyes toward me. I had a few bullets left, but they would be useless against the beast. Instead, I pumped them into the wall, hoping they would pass through and find Franklin.

  “Close, but no cigar!” Franklin shouted. “I’m guessing that’s you, Kat. Nice idea, shooting your man, if a little callous. Shame it isn’t going to save either of you.”

  The Ammit slinked around like a dog trying to find a comfortable spot. I kicked the door fully open, threw my empty gun at its head, and let it catch a good sight of my juicy soul. I needed it to pursue me. As long as I reached the casino floor, Danny would have a chance. Franklin had his box, which was all that really mattered to him. With luck, he wouldn’t waste time hanging around to make sure the Ammit got Danny too. What was one more life when he was about to claim billions? The moment the beast launched itself into the air, I took flight. It slammed into the doorframe, shaking the walls. Then heavy paws were thudding behind me. I made it as far as the shattered door before claws slashed at my back. I lost my balance and tumbled down the stairs, somehow managing to land on my feet. The Ammit was coming down, sliding sideways as its cumbersome hippo feet scrabbled for purchase.

  I ran again, pushing my body the way I’d pushed my car. I’d forgotten all about Laureen in the frenzied moments when I’d believed Danny was a goner, but now I remembered. She had to be in the casino by now, although she could be trapped in the crossfire. If I reached her, I might still have a chance. The Ammit made the corridor and began to gain again, but I reached the next set of stairs and recovered some distance as it struggled downward. At the top of the stairs leading down to the casino floor, I looked over the tables. Fighting was still going on—some of it now hand-to-hand as ammunition diminished. Yolanda stood at the heart of the maelstrom, cracking heads with fists and feet. I scanned the bodies struggling for supremacy beneath a whirling cloud of dust devils. At last I saw Laureen, working her way down the same route I’d taken.

  “Up here!” I yelled, not caring if I drew fire. At least if I got killed, the Ammit would be temporarily confused. If I’d still had my gun, I would have shot myself again.

  I didn’t get an opportunity to see if Laureen had spotted me, for the Ammit barreled into me from behind and knocked me clean off my feet. I landed on my stomach, all the wind knocked out of me. Lion paws landed on either side of my head, and I felt the weight of the creature above me. I would have prayed, but God didn’t care about the plight of one lost soul. Either Laureen would save me or she wouldn’t. I closed my eyes and held my breath, vowing I wouldn’t scream when it took me and hoping that somehow Danny would escape the same fate. When my lungs began straining, I realized I’d been holding my breath for a long time. I opened one tentative eye and saw Laureen’s head appear at the top of the stairs. The Ammit, now placid, stepped away from my prone form as she grabbed my hand and helped me to my feet.

  “Where is he?” she said.

  “Still upstairs.”

  I led the way, this time comforted rather than petrified by the pound of the Ammit’s feet behind me. The missile now had another target. We burst into Danny’s bedroom to find him sitting up, rubbing not his chest but the flabby gut that had reappeared when he resurrected. He gave me a filthy look.

  “You shot me again,” he said. He patted his stomach. “Do you know how long it took me to get rid of this?”

  “It was the only way to save you.”

  “You deserve a lot more than being shot,” Laureen said. “You tried to blackmail me.”

  “Technically, it was ransom,” Danny said. “And bite me.”

  “You can sort your issues out later,” I said. “Where’s Franklin?”

  I followed the line of Danny’s pointing finger to the far side of the room. Franklin stood motionless in the shadows, stroking the carved globe.

  “Yes,” he said. “Yes. I’ll open you. Soon.”

  “You’re in deep shit,” I said.

  My guttural voice tore him away from the box.

  “Isn’t it divine?” he said, his voice dreamy.

  “Yes,” Laureen said, “and it’s up to the divine to open it, not the likes of you, Ignatius.” So that was his real name. No wonder he’d gone for Franklin.

  “Oh, hello, Laureen,” he said, emerging further from his trance. “I suppose this means I’m out of a job?”

  “You’re out of your bloody mind is what you are. Seriously, think about what you’re doing.”

  “I’ve thought about nothing else for decades. How many sinners have paraded their depravity through Hell down the centuries? Tens of millions? Hundreds? It never ends, this parade of wickedness. It will never end. Unless somebody does something.”

  “Do you think you know better than God? He still has plans for humanity.”

  Bitterness sucked at Franklin’s cheeks, accentuating the shadows around his face and making him look like a talking skull. “It’s easy for him, up there in his throne room, all big picture and strategic thinking. We’re in the trenches with the blood and guts. I can’t take it anymore.”

  “Then I’ll get you a transfer,” Laureen said in a soothing voice. “Give me the box.”

  Franklin—I couldn’t think of him any other way—shook his head, backing farther into the room. “It’s too late.”

  Before any of us could react, he spun on his heels, took three fast strides, and hurled himself headfirst through the open window. I grabbed Laureen’s shoulders and shouted into her face, venting my frustration at the insane shithead’s escape. “You didn’t tell me you people could fly! Get after him!”

  “We can’t fly,” Laureen said.

  “Oh,” I said and hustled over to the window, Danny at my side.

  Franklin lay on his back in the alley, a dark pool of liquid spreading underneath him. The box was still in his arms.

  “He’ll be up in a minute,” Danny said. “Send the Ammit after him.”

  “It won’t fit through the window,” Laureen said. “We need to go through the casino. If we get separated, head
for the Black Tower. He needs to go up to Earth to open it, to Megiddo to be precise. It’s a fail-safe to stop the box from being opened by mistake.”

  “There’s an elevator in the tower?” Danny said.

  “Metaphorically speaking,” Laureen called over her shoulder as she dashed out the door, the Ammit hot on her heels. “Now stop talking and follow me.”

  I stayed put, contemplating the long drop. “They’re never going to make it down in time. They have to get through the madness downstairs and around the side of the building. He’ll be gone by then. I doubt the Ammit’s fast enough to catch him if he’s in a car.”

  “What do you suggest?” Danny said. “Jump out after him?”

  “Now that, my love, is a great idea.”

  I grabbed his face and gave him a swift, deep kiss. Before I could change my mind, I ran for the window and executed a picture-perfect dive. I wanted to make sure my head hit the ground first. I didn’t want to survive somehow and lie there bleeding and broken while Franklin skipped off to destroy the world. My stomach dropped into my groin, and wind roared in my ears as I plummeted. I had just enough time to think this wasn’t such a good idea after all before my skull popped like a watermelon.

  31

  I cranked open my eyelids to a closeup view of a rat’s pointed face, its little tongue flickering at the blood my abrupt communion with the ground had splattered everywhere. A near-human look of disappointment crossed its features when I batted it away. I unpeeled my sticky face from the concrete and looked up the alleyway to see if I could spy the bigger rat I was after. He’d already made himself scarce. As I rose to my feet, a hand grasped my shin. I looked down and wasn’t terribly surprised to see Danny lying in the middle of his own splat mark. Blood slicked his face and clothes, but his eyes were bright and alert.

  “Did you think I’d let you have all the fun?” he said.