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“I have no idea. I don’t even know what ‘over’ means. The Magistrate will have his gun. To tell you the truth, I don’t trust him with it.”
“Me neither.”
I look at her.
“I thought you were here to help him.”
“Who told you that?”
“You saved the havoc.”
“We saved you. You’re why we’re here.”
“What the hell does that mean?”
She points a finger at the ceiling.
“You have friends in high places.”
“Mr. Muninn?”
“I’m not at liberty to say.”
“Fuck me. I thought he’d checked out completely.”
“Nope. Just busy. You might not have heard, but there’s a war on.”
It never crossed my mind that anyone in Heaven or Hell remembered me or cared. Especially Mr. Muninn. Talk about a bigmouth. I popped off at him a couple of times. It didn’t occur to me until later that being snotty to the ruler of the universe might not be in my best interest. But now here we are.
“Does the Magistrate know?”
“Hell no,” says Alice. “And we’re going to keep it that way, right? The Almighty doesn’t want to look like he’s playing favorites, especially with an Abomination.”
“The Abomination.”
“Stop showing off.”
The Magistrate signals for the flatbed to be moved onto the dock. Once it’s on board the first ship and secured, the second ship floats up. With the angels directing traffic, they load all the vehicles. We get on the third ship with the havoc and the conscripts. Vehuel seems to have figured out how the staff works, so she directs the ships to move farther into the channel and heads them downstream.
As we pass Charon, the Magistrate walks to the side of the ship and calls to the old man.
“If only you had asked politely.”
He throws out his arms. Gold coins pour from his sleeves onto the deck.
Vehuel walks to the stern of the ship and shouts, “We’ll send your staff back to you when we’ve reached our destination.”
Charon shouts something that I’m pretty sure it isn’t “Sounds great. Catch you later.”
I thought that with the angels around and finally knowing our next destination would calm people down. No such luck. We’re on the river for maybe an hour before the first fight breaks out. Some of the conscripts forced to work on the trucks jump one of the mechanics and try to throw him overboard. There’s a mini-riot between a mob of souls and a handful of Hellions over a case of beer looted from one town or other. The case is caked with dirt and rattier looking than Karloff in The Mummy. The swill is probably flat and has been that way since before the invention of fire.
At least two people end up in Tartarus over it.
The Magistrate spends the first hours of the trip doing nothing but putting out emotional tire fires. Johnny, Frederickson, and a couple of other idiots even heckle the angels. Vehuel and the others bunch together in the prow of the ship, clearly horrified by the emotional mortal meltdowns. I keep my distance, but can see Alice doing a lot of explaining and hand waving trying to calm them. The poor bastards were sent here to cover my ass and now it looks like they’re going to need pepper spray just to keep their feathers on straight.
I think part of the problem is being underground. The Tenebrae might be a desiccated wasteland of shit and ruins, but at least you can see the sky. Down here, we’re bugs floating on leaves along the river of the dead. The only things you can see in any direction are the cave walls and stalactites overhead, any one of which could sink our asshole armada if it came loose.
A whole group of geniuses abandons ship and swims for the dock. They’re in the water maybe thirty seconds before they’re torn apart by a swarm of something that are all tentacles and sharp, hatpin teeth. I knew Charon was bullshitting us. Maybe the river isn’t a torrent of puke or full of blood rapids, but it’s as depressing and dangerous as any other body of water in Hell’s little punishment carnival.
