Page 104 of I Hope This Email Finds You in Hell

Hold it—a mop?

“Are we…” I turn about the small space that barely fits us and apparently enough cleaning equipment, old printers, and reams of paper to make any type-A receptionist lose their mind. A single bulb shines overhead. “In a supply closet?”

“Yes.” Luke steps up to the rack I still pant against and starts unceremoniously shoving shit to the floor.

“What are you looking for?”

“The veil,” Luke grunts, tossing a stack of manilla envelopes over his shoulder. “I’m gone for eight months and the place becomes a pig sty. Who could find anything in this mess?”

There’s a question I should have asked before now. “Luke.” Every breath I take burns. “You said the veil is like the ozone layer. How are we supposed to fix that?”

A breath of relief shoots out of him as he pulls my worst nemesis from the depths of the debris. “We’re not. We’re supposed to fix the thing that powers our branch’s portion of the veil. This.”

I hear him, I do, but he can’t be serious, because—

“That’s a fucking fax machine.”

He shoots me a sharp look. “It’s also one of the most powerful tools the underworld has—a physical representation of the veil and our only way to communicate with the overworld. We fix this and the fabric of the veil is restored. But it can be a little…finicky.”

A new realization stabs me between the eyes. “Oh my God. You let me come with you because this is my thing. I’m the faulty fucking fax machine fixer! You brought me here so I could be maintenance. You’re no better than Ted!”

“That was low and you know it,” he says, making me feel chagrined. “Did it cross my mind? Yes. But for the record, I was the faulty fucking fax machine fixer before I knew you existed. Besides, I meant what I said. I wanted you to leave with the others. To be home and safe and—”

A thunk against the door steals our attention.

“They’re trying to bust it down,” I realize with horror.

Luke focuses back on the yolk-hued machine that looks straight out of the ’80s. It’s similar to the one from the Curated Care office, except probably missing the specks of Cheeto dust that transferred from my fingers, thanks to my afternoon snack. There’s only one light on it, blinking red.

“Do you know what’s wrong with it? A jam?” I prod as Luke presses a series of buttons.

“It’s more metaphysical than that,” he explains, continuing to try combination after combination of number punches. “Since Dante and I screwed with the natural order of hell and the veil tore, think of it like the Wi-Fi’s down because a tree fell on a power line. The real veil is the Wi-Fi, I was the tree, and this is the power line. We fix the power line, we fix the Wi-Fi.”

Another crash comes from the other side of the door, making me jump. The jerky movement makes the pain in my side excruciating. I lean against the rack, my knees threatening to buckle.

“What can I do?” I ask, trying to focus on anything but my injuries. A sliver of light from the office pierces through the thick wood of the door. We have minutes until it splinters completely.

Luke releases a frustrated breath, dragging a bloody-knuckled hand through his hair. “I don’t know. Everything I used to do isn’t working. This is the worst it’s ever been. I don’t know.”

My eyes squeeze shut, the press of tears behind them impossible to push down. “We can’t have come all this way for nothing. There has to be a fix.”

“How do you fix the one in the office?”

My eyes spring open at Luke’s question. I push off the rack to stand to my full height, meeting him right under the bulb to look him dead in the eye. “I unplug it and plug it back in.”

Luke blinks slowly. “You…unplug it and plug it back in? That’s the magic fix no one else ever thought of? I’ve watched you mess with that thing for over an hour before.”

I shrug, but even that hurts. “On slow days I need ways to make myself look busy. Unplugging it is always my last resort.”

A ludicrous laugh bursts from Luke. “Great. Okay. Well. We can’t unplug it because that would make the entire veil drop, which would be a disaster, and—”

“Why not?” I counter, an idea taking form. “The Reckoning is coming, and if Dante’s right, it could be enough to rip the veil completely. What’s there to lose? If we power it down for a second, it might reset everything and make it whole again when we plug it back in. It could work.”

Luke nods in understanding. “Like a factory reset.”

I jam a thumb over my shoulder at our quickly crumbling defense. “We have to try. We’re out of time, and—” My throat catches around our impending reality. We have no exit. A wall of hell beings stands between us and even the hope of escaping. And who knows if we’d make it out of Hell Headquarters beyond them. My head pounds and my side is on fire. “We both know how this is going to end. Might as well go out with a bang.”

Emotion flows across Luke’s battered face as the true direness of our situation hits him. Disappointment, grief, fear. He closes his eyes, and when they reopen, there’s a sheen across them. “I’m sorry,” he chokes out. “It was never supposed to end like this. Not for you.”