by D. M. Guay
“Let me see.” Zack pushed me aside and looked in.
“Aaaaaaaaaaah!”
That wasn't me screaming. The door kicked open, toppling me and Zack like dominoes. A wave of molten hot air washed over me, and all those dudes streamed out. Totally naked. A rainbow of inhuman bare butts hightailed it down the track.
“Do any of you guys want towels?” Hunter called after them. Then, he poked his head in the sauna and looked around. “Maybe it's too cold in here. I'll get maintenance on that.”
He had to be kidding. No one could be that clueless.
Hunter walked us to the starting line. A big muscly dude with dark red skin and a head of twisty black horns took one look at Zack, and dropped his hundred-pound free weight right on his cloven hoof. He hopped around, holding his aching hoof in his hand.
“You all right there, Gunther? Watch those hooves!” Hunter fiddled with his stopwatch.
“And go!” Hunter clicked his stopwatch.
Zack ran—well, floated—around the track, so fast a strange clink clack thunk tink noise followed in his wake. Probably literally a wake, given his speed. I swear that reaper was gonna float a one-minute mile.
“Aaaah! Reaper! Run!”
Hold up. Nope. Never mind. Those noises? It was the sound of weights dropping to the floor as demons and werewolves and gill guys ran, tripping over each other to get away from the grim reaper—robes flowing, skeleton arms pumping, floating at them at sixty miles an hour.
Dude. Zack had them running for the doors. Zack didn't seem to notice. Maybe he was used to people running away and screaming? I kinda felt bad for him.
“Uh, change of plans, Champ. No more laps. Zack's really shaking everybody up,” Hunter said. “The Trog incident must be too fresh in everyone's minds. Meet me at that machine.”
He pointed at a hulking metal thing that looked like a medieval torture device. Unfortunately, it was right next to Fluffy. He was the only one who wasn't ruffled. His huge brown eyes were like glue, stuck on me and on Zack.
Hunter—propelled by thick powerful legs—bounded off to intercept Zack. He pulled him off the track before he could scare the remaining customers away.
I went to the machine and sat down on the pleather bench. The second my cheeks hit, something ice cold seeped into my shorts. And wriggled? “Watch it! Do any of you dipshits look before you sit down? I'm working here!”
I popped up. Kevin reformed in the indentation my butt cheek had made in the vinyl. He was bright blue and had a tiny sweatband around his head.
“What are you doing here?”
“What does it look like I'm doing? I'm working out! Duh. Look at me.” Kevin ran his legs up and down his carapace. He had ectoplasmic muffin tops rolling over each of his body segments. “That Monster Burger spell trashed my figure. I gotta get back in shape before I cross over. I don't want to be fat for all eternity.”
“Will that even work? You're a ghost.”
Kevin ignored me. He thumbed a leg back at Zack. “What the hell is he doing? Reapers aren't allowed in here! He shouldn't even leave the store. Why did you bring him out?”
“I didn't bring him. He followed me,” I whispered. “It's not my fault!”
“Hot tip: You aren't gonna make any friends around here with that guy trailing you. Did you hear about Trog? Dumb fat bastard shouldn't have eaten three turkeys.”
“I didn't invite him. He just showed up!” I whispered. “What do you want me to do?”
“Well, since you two are besties now, take him back to his room, lock him in, and throw away the key. He can't be out wandering around. Everyone's terrified! You can't tell he's unemployed by looking at him. Know what? You can have the machine. I'm moving over to the squat press anyway. It's leg day.” Kevin floated off the bench and away, across the floor mat. “Do your job and get him out of here.”
“Help me!” I called after him, but he just flipped me two roach middle fingers. He didn't even look back.
Hunter jogged up. “Hey. Fluffy. Can you set this machine to human level?”
As soon as Hunter said, “human,” two very pale, thin dudes by the bench press zeroed in on me. They looked me up and down as they sipped on their water bottles. Wait. No. Not water. The liquid was red. The bottles rose and fell, appearing to magically float in mid-air in the mirror behind them. I looked at the dudes. Then at the mirror. Then at the dudes. No reflections. Holy shit. Vampires. This can't be happening. “Angel, if you let me transfer to Planet Pump. I'll go every night. I swear. Angel?”
But Angel was nowhere to be found. Where the hell did he go? Oh. Never mind. I see him, wobbling in a slow sad circle around the rowing machine, like he's lost.
“Who are you talking to?” Zack said. “Oof. Vampires. Talk about creepy. Dead. No souls, but still walking around. What's up with that?”
I looked at him. He looked at me. “The vampires are creepy?”
“Fluffy will get you started, Champ. Bones, follow me.” Hunter walked Zack to a clearing of mats, where he did what had to be a perfect burpee. Of course. Because that was a torture straight from hell if there ever was one.
Fluffy stopped fiddling with the weights and rose up on his huge, furry back paws. He leaned his graying brown muzzle close to me and growled, “Are you nuts? Death is not your friend. Death comes for all of us in the end, no matter what. Don't be fooled. You're playing with forces you don't understa—ooh. Ooh. Ow. You tiny bastards!”
He suddenly plopped down on his butt, lifted his back leg, and dug into his ear. Hard. “Flea Dip Friday can't get here fast enough. Can you give me a scratch there, buddy? I'd really appreciate it.”
“Uh.” I put my hand behind his ear and scratched. Because I was too scared to be rude. He whined and his foot thumped the floor like a happy golden retriever.
“Oooh yeah. Thanks, man. I owe you one.” He stood up, stretching to his full seven feet. “I meant what I said, though. You're in over your head. Death plays cruel games, blah blah blah.”
He said something else, but I didn't know what. Because there, behind him, was my employee manual, crawling across the floor, spine opening and closing, gripping the mats, as it gummed its way past the locker rooms, beelining toward that big gate.
Uh oh. Not good.
I had to grab that book before Kevin saw it. I scrambled, hopping, ducking, and diving my way through the maze of beefy creatures and hulking metal machines, eyes glued to my employee manual. It flopped and snarled, moving like it was on a mission.
I cleared the machines and landed in the aisle. The book took one look at me—I mean, I think. It doesn't have eyes, per se—and ran. “You get back here!”
I immediately stumbled and nearly fell over a very confused gremlin. He stood by my rumpled gym bag—open, contents strewn everywhere—holding my tighty whities in his hands. Just out there, for the whole world to see, stains and all.
“Sorry, dude. That book is crazy.”
The gremlin slipped me a judgmental squint, then huffed as it scooped my stray socks and clean work clothes back into the bag. Well, kind of clean. Hot sauce stains, you know.
“Errf. Errrrrrr. Errrrrf.” My employee manual snarfled.
I zeroed in on the sound. It stood up and opened, shaking and growling. Then it scuttled off behind the control box attached to that big gate. Great. Let's all pray it doesn't chew on wires like it chews on my shoes.
I ducked down so it wouldn't see me coming. My thighs burned like molten lava. OMG. I am out of shape. But I managed to waddle behind the gate, behind the control box, following the grunts and growls of my employee manual. My book lay open, snapping open and shut. “Errf. Errrrrrr. Errrrrf.”
I grabbed it. “Ha. I got you!”
It bit me and hopped out of my hand. “Ow! Bad book. Bad! I told you to stay in the bag!”
The book whimpered. Its spine bent, and its cover turned. It opened to a page with an illustration of a hand, scrawly and ornate, with an eye in the palm. A green eye. A real
eye. It glowed green, then blinked and looked around.
“Thanks for the nightmares. Now get back in the bag!”
“Grrrrrrrrrrr.” It snapped at me then started to climb the back of the control panel to get away.
This was way too much work for a book. I yanked and yanked and finally peeled it off the console. It wriggled out of my hand, catapulting its weird leathery body up up up, flying through the air toward the controls. I jumped after it. That's when I realized the book wasn't growling at me.
Well, maybe. Probably not. I'm still not really sure.
All I know is when I stood up, the controls on the panel moved all by themselves. Buttons pressed in, boop boop booping, and the numbers on the LED display changed. A red switch flipped on. Then a big metal lever on the side chink chink chinked from down to up, all by itself. The lever said, “Emergency override” in big yellow letters. It clicked into top position, and a red light flashed on the console.
That's not good.
My employee manual jumped right at whatever invisible force had pushed those buttons. It hit something—or some thing hit it—because it somersaulting through the air, smack into the rim of that giant gate, so hard even I was seeing stars.
Oof. That had to hurt.
I reached down to grab that emergency lever. I'm not the smartest guy, but even I know not to mess with the emergency override on a hell gate. I had one hand on it, when suddenly, my feet were in the air.
Then. Splat.
That was my face. Hitting the floor.
Ow.
I face planted right into the mat in front of the control box, eyeball to sole with a pair of shiny saddle shoes.
Shit.
The Cookie Scout—the one who bubbled down to nothing—looked up and around, like she was searching for something. She was still in nice little girl form.
Angel rolled into my nose. “Lloyd, is that you? I can't see. Are you all right?”
“Help meeeee!” I whispered. “Demon!”
“What demon? I don't see anything. Wow. Everything is blurry. Must be a bad connection. Hold on. I need to reset my Ethereal Net connection.”
Too late. That demon scout picked him up and shook him really hard. “Ooooh! I have one of these!” She shook and shook, then stopped and waited for a reply. “Huh. This one's broken. It sucks.”
Tell me about it.
She threw it. Angel hit the mat, and red liquid splurted out.
“You!”
Uh oh. The demon scout grabbed a fistful of my hair, pulled my head up and looked me in the eye. Her little girl mouth split into a row of dripping fangs. “You stole my unicorn.”
Her icy white cheeks split into a wide chasm filled with dripping fangs. She raised a hand that was quickly morphing into a claw. “Give it back. NOW!”
Chapter 6
Her claw came down so hard I saw stars. That demon scout slapped me over and over again across the cheeks, so many times we settled into a rhythm.
“Give.” Slap.
“Me.” Slap.
“My.” Slap.
“Unicorn!” Slap.
Rinse, repeat. And man, did it hurt. I couldn't fight back. Until my kicking feet finally managed to stick on something long enough to push me right side up. I pushed and rrrrrrrip. “Ow!”
As I stumbled away, my hands shot to my head and came back wet with blood. I turned around. The angry scout held a fistful of my hair.
She looked at it. I looked at her.
“Wow, that had to hurt. Sorry, fat guy. Know what? You deserve it. Thief!” She threw that fistful of hair on the floor and came at me. She knocked me flat on my back and was on top of me, claws out, scratching at my pockets.
“I don't have your unicorn!”
“Liar! Unicorn! MINE!”
I pushed her up and away while I formulated a plan. Come on, brain. Think! Nope. I got nothing. So I screamed. “Help! Help meeeeeeeeee!”
I'm in a gym full of strong guys. One of them will help me.
Any second now.
Nope. No one came. No one even noticed I was in trouble. Because every single demon, vampire, monster and gremlins had their back to me. They stood in a semicircle around Zack, clapping? They ooh and awed as he spun a hundred-pound barbell on his boney index finger like it was a toy. While pumping it up and down. Well. Guess they're over Trog!
The demon scout, no longer content to dig in my pockets like a rabid gopher, opened wide and tried to bite me, so I stuck two fingers straight into her eyeballs like a Stooge.
That just made her angry “UNICORN!”
“Zack! HELP!” I screamed.
The scout wrapped her freezing cold claws around my neck and squeezed.
Gack! Can't breathe!
Zack's boney skull face appeared behind her. “What are you guys doing down there?”
“She...kill...meeeeee!”
Zack scratched the top of his skull like he was confused. “That's weird, right? Cookie Scouts don't usually kill people, do they?”
“You seriously have to ask?”
“I'm a reaper. I have no idea what you all do when you aren't dying.”
“Help....meeeeeee.”
The scout shook my neck and cracked the back of my skull against the floor.
Thump. “Ow.”
Thump. “Ow.”
Apparently, we had a new rhythm.
I managed to punch her in the eyeball. Again. Then, she did something I never saw coming in a million years. She cried. “Meanie pants.”
While she punched me. Ow. Ow. Ow.
“She's right. That wasn't very nice of you, Lloyd.” Zack said.
“Wha—me?? I-uuuuuuuuuuh. Shit.”
Okay. If that sounds like a weird response. Let me explain. All of a sudden, a low, loud hum rattled the entire gym. Even the can lights on the ceiling shook. It felt like an earthquake. Then, a dark shadow fell over everything, and the room went totally silent, apart from gasps.
Gasps.
If a bunch of demons and werewolves are gasping, this shit's bad. The demon scout let go of me and hid behind the control panel.
Zack floated over to the center of the gate. It glowed. Eerie. Black. “I don't think it should be this color. Do you?”
A long, green thing, thick as the trunk of a fat tree—except slimy, really slimy, as in absolutely dripping—emerged from the center. It rose above Zack's head, huge and looming, stretching out over the now silent gym members. It shook like a wet dog, showering everything in slime.
Shlup.
Including us. Ew.
“Shoot. This was my last clean robe,” Zack said. “Good news, though. It's a meek eel. Totally harmless. Delicious, though. They make great sushi. My girlfriend's favorite. I mean. My EX girlfriend Eeeerrrrrrrrr. Hurrrrrrr. Hurrrrrrrr.”
The meek eel opened its mouth, revealing row upon row of razor sharp red spikes, dripping with goop. “Sssssssseeeeeeeee.”
The things hovered there, hissing, squinting with its glassy white eyes as if it were trying to get a look at the place, but the light was too bright.
“Oh. My bad. That's a terror eel. They'll definitely kill everyone here. Pretty fast, too. I bet the guys at dispatch are in the weeds right now! Aw, man. I'm already here. I could have saved everyone the commute! But, I can't reeeee. Eeeeee. Eeeeeep. Hurrrr. Hurrrrr. Hurrrrr.”
“Don't just stand there!” I screamed. “Do something!”
But Zack? Useless. He rumpled into a useless pile of crying bones.
“Everyone hide! I will protect yoooooooooooooooo,” A heroic voice rang out. It was Hunter. He bounded up off the top of an ab machine, hurling his body straight at that terror eel. His aim? Spot on. He landed right on that terror eel's slimy face. Unfortunately, the terror eel opened its mouth, and Hunter slid right in.
Well, he's lunch. Shit.
It was up to me to end this. Yeah. You heard that right. I scrambled to the control panel. And froze. It wasn't exactly straightforward. Dials and digital screens fl
ashed weird symbols. My heart kicked my ribs. No pressure. I only needed to save everyone, and I didn't know what the fuck I was doing.
So basically, like every day of my life.
The gym was dark and getting darker. The eel thing didn't much care for light. It scraped its body against the ceiling, ripping can lights off of the scaffold. They plummeted to the ground, sparking, crashing against the weight machines as everyone screamed and took cover.
My employee manual? It had clearly regained consciousness. It knocked over a dusty cardboard box behind the panel. “Help!”
It looked at me. Dug a broken Thigh Cruncher out of the box and threw it right at my head. I ducked. Geesh. Thanks for nothing, stupid book!
I grabbed the override handle and pulled. Oof. It didn't move. That thing was really on tight. I put my foot on the box and pulled with all the force of my body.
Crunk. The lever moved a notch. Yes!
Crunk. And another. Hazzah! Fat guy for the win!
Then something wrapped around my belly and squeezed me so tight I thought my head was gonna pop off.
A voice whispered, “Let go. Don't ruin this for me!”
When I looked up and around, no one was there. I threw an elbow, and whatever it was dropped me right on the lever. Boy howdy, the weight of me falling on it crunked that thing right back into place. The gate edges clink clink clinked, recalibrating.
A loud whir shook the gym.
Shump.
The black oozing center zipped closed, chopping that terror eel off at the neck. Its fat body crashed to the floor and split, sending slime and guts flying in every direction.
Holy shit. I did it! I shut the gate! I killed the monster. I DID IT! ME!
Angel wobbled up to me.
“Did you see that?” My chest puffed, even though my butt really hurt where it hit that lever.
I wanted to cry. I felt like a helium balloon. Flying high, light. Relieved. Because oh my God. I did it. I saved the day. ME. My head buzzed. I'd finally done it. Who's the sidekick? Not me! “Be sure to add that to my checklist.”
“Lloyd? Is that you? I can hear you, but I can't see.” Angel looked at me, triangle spinning.
