Planet Purgatory (16 page)

I’d never experienced water so blue. It was perfect. I had no idea how far down I was, but I didn’t care. I had Sam with me. We were like dolphins, swimming effortlessly in all directions.

I was shocked to discover my brother down there, but once that initial surprise wore off, I was more than happy to swim with him. He looked good. In fact, he looked the same as the day he died. In some ways, it was a shame we weren’t on land. I would have loved to have talked to him, ask him what he thought of his younger brother looking so old and tired.

The water was so warm, so soothing. I made the mistake of closing my eyes, because when I opened them, Sam was gone. I looked everywhere, but he’d disappeared.

It wasn’t fair. I wanted to apologize. It wasn’t right what I did.

I tried calling his name, but a man’s voice doesn’t carry underwater. And so I went deeper, propelling myself with my arms. The water wasn’t warm anymore. Nor was it blue. I’d made a mistake descending this far, and was about to turn around when I sensed a presence in the murky depths below. I couldn’t see it. I didn’t need to. It was massive, and it was coming to greet me. I’d never been so scared, and I shot upward, aiming for the pale light of the surface. I was fast, but the giant was faster, and I glanced down to see the shadow of a whale approaching me.

I gave everything I had, but it was no use. I was running out of air.

Please! God! Help me!

The whale was right behind me. I didn’t know anything could be so huge. I was a speck in comparison, and in a desperate bid to escape I reached for the water’s surface only for my lungs to give out on me.

I sat up in bed, gasping for air. I didn’t know what was happening, and for a moment I swore I could feel the whale brush against my feet. And then I understood: it was a dream.

I collapsed onto the sweat-soaked mattress, gazing at the ceiling while my heart rate returned to normal. I’d never experienced anything like that before. It was so vivid. No, that wasn’t merely a dream. That was a message.

I remained in bed while my conscious self made sense of what was shown to me.

I knew what to do now.

Rosie and Flea were nowhere to be seen, and grabbing my gun, I was making my way to the door when I noticed the piece of paper on which I’d written the imp’s name. It didn’t just say Flea anymore, but the name David had been added, surrounded by a swarm of hearts. It was strangely touching, and I folded it up and stuffed it in my pocket before going outside.

I fully expected to see Flea and Rosie waiting for me, so when all I saw was empty road, my stomach tightened.

“Rosie?” I called. “Flea?”

My calls were met by the familiar flapping of a demon as it perched on the roof of the hut. It felt like ages since I’d last seen one of those little fellas, and I walked up to it, happy to see a familiar face.

“And how are you today?” I asked.

The demon cocked its head, and in a most unexpected gesture, responded with a series of clicks and whistles.

“Can you understand me?”

Again it spoke, regarding me with an expression of amusement while I reached up and touched its leathery wing. I thought it would fly away. Instead, it leaned into my hand.

“You like this?” I asked, gently stroking its wing.

It must have, because its eyes flipped to shiny black, and after a few moments of softly clicking, it broke into a hearty chorus of
the sound
. It was glorious, and I closed my eyes, allowing it to penetrate my soul. I could have stayed there forever, but without warning, the demon flew away, and I was left wondering why when Rosie came crashing out of the trees, the imp astride her back.

“Where were you?” I demanded.

Flea leapt off Rosie’s back and handed me two unopened bottles of chikka.

“Where’d you get these?”

The imp grinned. “It’s a secret.”

I was almost ready to let it go when I noticed the blood on Rosie’s chest and mouth. “What the hell did you guys do?”

“I told you. It’s a secret.”

“She’s not hurt, is she?” I asked, rushing to examine Rosie closely.

“Oh, don’t worry. That’s not her blood.”

“Whose is it, then?”

Flea groaned and stuck out her tongue. “Why do you have to ask so many questions? All you have to know is that me and Rosie got some unopened chikka for you. So go ahead and have some. You look like you could use it.”

She wasn’t wrong, and ripping the cork out with my teeth, I proceeded to drink. It felt so good, and I leaned against the door of the hut, allowing the purpleness to consume me.

“How long were you gone?” I asked, wiping my mouth with the back of my hand.

“I don’t know. A few hours?”

“A few hours? Why didn’t you tell me?”

“You looked so peaceful. I didn’t want to wake you. I’ll tell you one thing, though. You weren’t lying when you said Rosie’s dangerous. I’ve never seen an animal fight like that before.”

“Okay, now you’re just trying to make me mad. Tell me where you went.”

“Uh, uh, uh. I told you. It’s a secret.”

“You and your stupid secrets.” I reached into my trouser pocket and pulled out the paper with my name surrounded with hearts. “What’s the deal with this?” I demanded, holding the paper in front of her face.

Flea looked overjoyed. “Oh, good! You found it!”

“I thought you said you didn’t know how to read!”

“I said nothing of the sort.”

“You certainly acted like it when I showed you your name. Why didn’t you tell me you knew how to read?”

“You looked so proud of yourself. I didn’t want to ruin the moment.”

She could be so annoying, sometimes. Returning the piece of paper to my pocket, I lit a cigarette, expelling the smoke from my nose.

“The angel spoke to me last night.”

Flea’s eyes widened. “Really? How?”

“He appeared in a dream.

“What did he say?”

“He told me everything. How to kick my addiction. How to get out of this place. But most importantly, he told me how to get rid of Bill.”

You could practically see the electricity crackling around her, she was so excited. “How are you going to do it?”

“It’s a secret.”

It felt good using the imp’s own line against her, and she glowered, kicking a pebble into the trees.

“But first, I’ve got a score to settle.”

The imp’s smile returned. “Oh! Tell me! Tell me! Who is it?”

“The Eggman.”

“But I thought he frightened you.”

“You have no idea. But as much as he scares me, I hate him even more. I’d do anything to get even with him and that witch.”

“Even if it jeopardizes your quest?”

Now that was a good question, and I leaned against the hut, scratching my beard. “Yes. Yes, I would,” I said, finally. “Is that bad of me?”

“I don’t know,” answered Flea with a shrug.

“I’d like to leave it alone, but I can’t. It’s like there’s a worm gnawing on my brain, and the only way to get rid of it is by getting revenge.”

“Let’s go do it, then!”

“Hold on a second. You’re coming with me?”

Flea stuck out her bottom lip. “You don’t want me to?”

“No. That’s not it. I just never thought about it. That’s all.”

“Good. Because I’m coming anyway. There’s no way I’d miss my David getting even with the meanie that killed his doggie.”

“So you don’t think God will mind that I’m doing this?”

This caused Flea to lurch back a step. “Whoa! I thought you were taking directions from an angel.”

“I am. But ultimately, angels work for God, right?”

“Look at you, getting all religious.”

“But it’s true, isn’t it? God’s like their boss. The angel wouldn’t be telling me to do something without God’s consent, would he?”

“Oh, wow. Next I’ll find out you pray before bed.”

“Yeah, well, maybe I should have. Then I wouldn’t be in this hellhole in the first place.” I flicked the butt of my cigarette onto the ground, grinding it into the dirt with my heel. “You don’t think this makes me like the Scavenger, do you? He tried to kill me out of revenge, too.”

“Of course not,” replied Flea. “You’re much cuter.”

And so we departed, Flea astride Rosie’s back, while I prepared myself for the work that was to come. The events at the little cottage must have really affected me, because I was a wreck. I kept imagining shooting the Eggman in the face, only for the demon to emerge unscathed and slice me in half with his butcher’s knife.

And it only got worse as time wore on. I felt physically ill, and in a bid to brighten my spirits, Flea recited Humpty Dumpty.

The symbolism wasn’t lost on me.

“How do you know these things?” I asked. “First Robin Hood? Now Humpty Dumpty?”

“I know lots of things,” answered Flea. “How about this one:

There once was a boy named David,

Upon whose head Heaven’s favor shone,

He killed the giant from Gath,

Using only a sling and a stone.”

I shook my head. “I don’t think I know that one.”

“Aw, that’s too bad. How about this one, then:

Hey diddle diddle,

The cat and the fiddle,

The cow jumped over the moon.

The little dog laughed,

To see such sport,

And the dish ran away with the spoon.”

She loved that one, laughing so hard she had to grab Rosie’s ruff so she wouldn’t fall on the road.

And then it appeared. The cottage. It looked so harmless, with its picket fence and stone chimney.

“So what do we do?” asked Flea, leaping off Rosie’s back.

“Keep your voice down! I don’t want them knowing we’re here. Not yet.”

The situation had taken on a surreal quality. I was there to avenge my friend. My friend who died in that building’s basement, but who was also standing beside me. Did she even know why we were there? Hair standing on end, I knelt down and gave Rosie a hug.

“So what are you going to do?”

“Just hold on!” I said, returning to my feet. The imp seemed to have no concept of what it meant to whisper, and I grabbed her by the arm, ushering her to a spot further down the road where we could plan without the risk of being detected.

“So what are you going to do?” hissed Flea.

“Now you decide to whisper?” I shook my head, returning my focus to the task at hand. Unfortunately, I was so worked up I could barely think, and I began pacing back and forth across the road.

“I know. Why don’t I throw one of these through the window?”

Flea was holding one of her origami stones, and for whatever reason, it appealed to my sense of humor. “We can’t do that,” I said with a snort.

“Why not? I’d just sneak up and throw it through the window. Or you could do it.”

“How much damage would it do?”

“It would flatten it.”

We were both grinning like fools, and I actually had to walk away as I was overcome by giggles.

“Come on, David! You know you want to!”

I don’t know if it was the stress or what, but the idea of her little origami grenade exploding while the old lady was reading one of her books had me doubled over in laughter.

“Here,” said Flea, offering me the stone. “It’ll be the greatest thing ever.”

It was so tempting …

“No,” I said. “This is something that has to be done face-to-face. I want them to know before they die that they crossed the wrong man. I’m going to walk up those front steps and blow their heads off.”

Flea’s body sagged. “Aw! That’s no fun. Can I at least knock on the door?”

“I don’t see why not.”

Like a shot, Flea was gone.

“Hold on! I’m not ready yet!”

“But I want to knock on the door!”

“Just wait. I need to psych myself up first.”

While Flea hopped in giddy anticipation at the bottom of the cottage’s steps, I visualized myself storming through the front door and delivering retribution to the demons inside. I’d never experienced butterflies like this before. It was too much, and recognizing I was a hair’s width from walking away, I signaled Flea to do her thing.

The imp didn’t need to be told twice. Up the stairs she went, flashing me a grin before hammering the door with her fist.

I didn’t know time could move so slowly. Every second was an hour, every heartbeat an eternity. And then it happened: the door opened, revealing the old woman, the Eggman looming menacingly behind her.

Flea was ecstatic. “They’re home!” she squealed.

What happened next was like something out of a movie. Before I even had a chance to react, Rosie charged up the steps straight at the Eggman.

“No!” I screamed.

But it didn’t matter. At this point I was merely an observer, and I watched in horror as the alabaster ogre swung his oversized meat cleaver at Rosie’s face. Goodness, he was fast. But Rosie was faster, and before he could connect she had him by the throat, sending him crashing to the floor while the cleaver slipped out of his hand and embedded itself in the door. I’d spent so much time building up the Eggman into an unstoppable force that I forgot why Rosie was referred to as the Beast of Harkness. By the time I made it up the stairs the Eggman was dead, his throat strewn over the floor.

Rosie, it seemed, wanted revenge even worse than I did, and me and Flea were reduced to watching while the Eggman’s face was ripped into an unrecognizable mess.

It was then that I happened to see the old lady lying on her back at the foot of the steps. She’d tripped trying to escape, and judging by the way her leg was jutting out from beneath her skirt, she must have snapped it in half.

I descended the stairs and knelt beside her. “Remember me?”

“M-my leg,” she panted.

“Looks like you broke it.”

The old woman grimaced, grabbing my hand. “H-help me …”

“Hurts, doesn’t it?”

Flea joined us, dropping onto her haunches to peer into the old woman’s face. “Is this the witch?”

“Help me,” repeated the old woman.

“You want help, do you? Well, it just so happens my friend here is a doctor.”

Flea looked at me. “I am?”

“Give her one of your pills.”

“What?”

“You know: your pills. The ones that look like little stones?”

“I don’t …” And then she understood, grinning as she produced an origami stone in her palm.

“This will make all the pain go away,” I said. And opening the witch’s jaw, I placed the stone in her mouth before closing it shut. “Don’t swallow it now,” I said, giving the old woman’s hand a final squeeze.

Together, me and Flea walked to the other side of the road.

“Any time you’re ready,” I said.

With a snap of the imp’s fingers, the witch’s head exploded.

Once the debris settled, I returned to the old woman and was surprised to discover the rest of the body completely untouched.

“Wow! Someone’s got a bit of a mean streak,” said the imp with a smirk.

“Well, it was either that, or shoot her. This seemed more poetic. She was the one who messed with my head, after all.”

I lit a cigarette, quietly taking in the image of the dead witch before returning up the steps into the cottage. The Eggman was a mess. There was no other way of putting it. It looked like a grizzly bear had gotten ahold of him, and I gingerly stepped over his denim-clad corpse to enter the living room.

It looked nothing like I remembered. It used to be a cozy little room, with nice furniture and wall hangings. Now it was empty. Even the carpet was gone.

“What’cha doing?” asked Flea.

“I don’t understand. There was furniture in here. And books. Shelves of them. And they’re all gone. It’s like it’s abandoned.”

“You broke their magic, David. You broke their spell.”

I approached the window, bootsteps echoing against the bare walls.

“What’s the matter? Why aren’t you smiling? I thought you’d be happy.”

“I don’t know, it just feels anticlimactic, you know? I spent all that time and energy building the Eggman and the witch into these unbeatable monsters. I really thought I was going to die. But in the end, I didn’t have to do anything, other than put a rock in an old woman’s mouth. Hell, blowing up pumpkins with fireworks is more dangerous than that.”

Flea folded her arms, regarding me with a sideways smile. “I know something that will cheer you up. Come on.”

“Where are we going?”

“You’ll see.”

Taking me by the hand, Flea led me to a spot down the road.

“Do you think you can reach a window from here?” she asked, handing me one of her stones.

“I don’t know,” I said. “That’s pretty far.”

“I bet you can.”

“What happens if I miss?”

“Drop to the ground and pray you survive.”

I picked a window, feeling the weight of the rock in my hand. It would take a near perfect throw on my part, but if it worked, I got the feeling we were in store for something truly special.

“Come here, Rosie,” I said, pointing to a spot behind me. “Okay, here goes.”

Heart pounding, I reared back and launched the stone as hard as I could. I knew the moment it left my hand it was on target. The height, the speed, the arc: it was beautiful, and I held my breath as the origami bomb soared through the air and smashed the center of the glass.

1 … 2 … 3 …
Boom!

If ever there was a perfect demolition of a demon-constructed cottage, this was it. First the roof jumped — literally jumped, as flames shot out of the chimney — and then the entire structure exploded, sending wood and stone everywhere. It was magnificent, and I was standing with my hands on my hips, savoring the destruction, when a rock the size of my head fell from the sky and embedded itself in the ground less than an inch away from the tip of my boot.

Flea and I turned to stare at each other, slack-jawed.

“I think I just crapped myself …”

“David, that just missed your head!”

“I know! I felt it pass my face!”

We stared at each other some more, and then, spontaneously, we jumped for joy.

“That was awesome!”

“I told you you’d enjoy it!”

“I’ve never experienced anything like that. The throw, the explosion, the rock. Oh my God, my heart’s still racing!”

I bent down, pulling the stone from the dirt. “I bet this was part of the chimney. I mean, look at this sucker. A couple more inches and I’m toast!”

“But you’re not,” said Flea, grinning. “There’s something special about you, David. This proves it.”

“I don’t know about special. Lucky’s more like it. Or dumb. Whatever it is, thanks, little coconut.” Unable to help myself, I grabbed Flea in a playful headlock and gave her a noogie. “Well, looks like our work here is done,” I said, collecting my bottles of chikka. “Now it’s time to take care of Bill.”