“You have an elevator straight up into somebody’s womb? That’s got to sting.”
“It’s not really an elevator. We find that the concept of ‘up’ helps ease the transition. I won’t go into the metaphysics, but essentially it’s a portal between planes.”
The elevator called to me the way the box had. The light from within was soothing, almost hypnotic. It radiated tranquility, offering the promise of facing the world as an innocent once more and carving out a different, better path. I’d longed for such an escape from the moment I entered Lost Angeles. Pretty much every single person in the city would have ripped my arm off and beaten me to death with it for the chance to be standing there—although such a violent approach would have disqualified them. And yet I hesitated.
“Will I remember anything?”
“No. You might have the odd strange dream, get déjà vu from time to time. But your soul will remember. Not the details but the lessons you learned down here. It’ll guide you through life. Hopefully you won’t end up back down here on the next cycle.”
“What about Flo?”
“He stays here.”
“But he’s the one who stopped Franklin.”
“Please. He showed up at the last minute and claimed all the credit, like a typical man. This is your doing, not his. Now in you pop.”
My legs began moving toward the elevator, but I forced them to stop. Giving in to the alluring promise of a new life would mean leaving Danny alone to cope with my absence and the mess I’d left behind. He’d worked all those years to get me back; I’d spent the same amount of time wishing for nothing more than the chance to be together again. If I chose to leave, I would be okay. I wouldn’t remember anything. All those years of suffering would be erased. I would have no regrets, no longing for the man I’d left behind. I’d be abdicating my responsibilities, taking the easy option. You didn’t do that when you loved somebody; you signed on for all weather, and when the storm came, it was your job to hold the umbrella over your partner’s head. Laureen was right: Danny had issues to work through. He’d murdered a man, and his vengeance on Bruno had hardened him further. If I left, that hardening process would accelerate. To leave would be to condemn him to a final appointment with the Ammit. And in the end, it no longer mattered that Lost Angeles was a stinking pit, because it was the stinking pit where Danny lived. It was my home.
“No,” I said.
I expected Laureen to insist, perhaps to call in reinforcements to drag me kicking and screaming into the lift. To my surprise, she didn’t look at all vexed. In fact, she looked pleased. “I was hoping you’d say that. There’s another option, offered to a select few.”
“Which is?”
“I must confess to an ulterior motive. I didn’t only hire you because you’re a good detective. You had a reputation for honesty, for being a good person. I already had my eye on you. Why do you think I let you bop around the city, finding out all our secrets? I had a feeling you were almost baked. We could use a woman with your talents around the place. Join us. Stay here and serve God.”
“You’re joking.”
“Not at all. I told you there were no angels or demons. I didn’t tell you I was like you once. All the Administrators were. We’re not some separate species crafted by God from different clay. We were all human once, imperfect and steeped in sin. We served our time, like you, and proved our worth. I guess you could say we got promoted. Now it’s your turn.”
“And that’s the only way I can stay? Become one of the people responsible for this madness?”
“It isn’t madness. Like I told you, it’s part of God’s greater design. And there are perks. A nice house up on Avici Rise—one’s just freed up, incidentally. Four weeks’ holiday per year and the chance to travel and meet interesting people.”
“Like Satan?”
“Yes, but please don’t call him that to his face. Like I said, it’s an unofficial job title. His official title is executive director of Hell. He prefers ED for short. So, are you in?”
“Can I still see Flo?”
“You can see whomever you like. We’ve all had our little flings. But understand this: the day might come when the Ammit takes him. When that happens, there’s nothing you can do to stop it.”
I glanced at the elevator doors one last time. Up there, I’d be lost in the wash of humanity with no greater purpose. Down here, I could do some good. With time, I could even change the system to something less hideous. I wouldn’t have to leave Danny. And, of course, I could satisfy my curiosity. There was still so much to puzzle out about Lost Angeles, Hell, and the whole bizarre system God had built. As an Administrator, I’d get the chance to do just that. As choices went, it was a no-brainer. “Then I need to help him so that day never comes. I’m in.”
Laureen clapped her hands and shot me a toothy grin. “Excellent. All kinds of bullshit you don’t know about goes on, here and in the other cities. Having a detective on the payroll would be a big help.”
“Hell’s detective?” I said. “Now that does have a nice ring to it.”
Acknowledgments
Thanks to Kat Urbaniak for wielding the Bechdel test and prompting this novel’s gender-reassignment surgery.
Thanks to Nats for her encouragement, constant feedback, and penmanship.
Thanks to Rebecca, Scott, Andy, and Tom for reading early drafts and their suggestions.
Thanks to Renee for taking this project on and finding a home for it.
And thanks to Faith at Crooked Lane Books for taking a chance on something a little different.
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