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Static electricity and volcanic heat burns us as lightning flashes in every direction, missing us by just a few inches. The roar of Hell’s guardians and hurricane winds hurt every bit as much as anything I fought in the arena. Just about the time I’m going to tell Alice that I changed my mind and that she should drop me off at the nearest Denny’s, it all stops. The noise. The wind. The rain and lightning. It’s gone. I look down and watch the burning hole above Hell fizzle out and the giant guardians pulling the clouds closed around them.
So long, you dinosaur-looking motherfuckers. You did your worst and we made it out on the wings of one lone, not-too-tall angel. Think about that for the next billion years, King Ghidorah.
As bad as the ride up from Downtown was, where we are now is flat-out unsettling. We’re nowhere. Empty space. Astronaut territory. Stars wink and pulse around us. Comets and the occasional meteor flash by, but none of them try to kill us. That’s a nice change. It takes me a few minutes, but I finally figure out where we are.
This is the fall. The limbo the first two Lucifers and their playmates fell through after Mr. Muninn kicked those kids off his lawn. It took them nine days to hit bottom. After our run through tornado asshole alley just now, I’m not sure any of us can hold on for that long. But it can’t be nine days for angels, right? I mean, they fly. Hellions just plummet like eggs dropped from a frat-house roof. The utter fucked-up emptiness of this place makes me feel kind of sorry for Samael and his bunch. I’ve never felt such a sense of being nowhere before. So far from everything—good and bad—and so empty inside. And Samael had to go through this for nine days. That would make anyone, even an angel with an ego the size of Texas, a little crazy.
Soon I see that I was right. A bright pinprick of light flares in the distance. It’s either Heaven or we’re about to get hit by the 3:10 to Yuma.
Lucky for us, there are no actual trains in limbo, just paranoids like me. It isn’t long before we see actual goddamn gates up ahead. They’re gold and even bigger than Hell’s flying guardians, which, if you ask me, is a bit much. I mean, angels are about as tall as regular-size people. Why do they need gates the size of Everest? It’s like Mr. Muninn was getting ready to sell the place and went a little crazy with the upgrades.
When we’re close enough to see details of the gates, they’re even worse than I thought. They look like solid gold—of course—shaped like fucking huge arches. There are towers and spires and rose windows set into the walls on either side of the gates. It’s all one big, epic Gothic orgasm. I don’t know what I was expecting, but it wasn’t the fancy-ass fence at a gated Ren Faire community. This is Brentwood with cherubs.
Worse, the bars on the gates are animated. They bend and twist around each other, forming shapes. There’s an explosion of light, then the birth of angels. Some angels start to hang stars in the sky while others build worlds. Fuck me. It’s the birth of the universe. Who is Mr. Muninn trying to impress? I think not going to Hell is pretty much what the souls who end up here care about. They don’t need a slide show while they’re getting their passports stamped.
But I really have nothing better to look at, so I keep watching. By now the angels have moved on to creating air and water. Then microscopic organisms. That’s good news at least. God believes in evolution. Then animals show up, and finally, the crown of Creation, us ridiculous human assholes. But he left out traffic jams on the 405, reality TV, and selfie sticks. Talk about propaganda.
Outside the gates, Alice lands us on a courtyard made of marble slabs as big as a Safeway parking lot.
Everybody oohs and aahs.
Alice folds her wings and stands next to me.
“Well?”
“Please tell me it’s not all like this.”
“Of course not. Heaven is just a regular place with trees and houses and libraries and parks.”
“And bars?”
“Yes, bars.”
“And movie theaters. You promised me movie theaters.”
“Yes, movie theaters. It’s just that seeing as how it was everyone’s first time here, I thought I’d take you through the formal entrance.”
I look up at the gates. The floor show is starting over. Lights. Angels. Stars. The whole bit.
“Isn’t there a nice alley with a Dumpster out in back of a taco place? Can’t we go in there?”
Alice gives me a look.
“I’m driving, so we’re going in the nice way.” She points past me. “Look at Father Traven. He’s enjoying himself.”
“Indeed I am.”
His eyes are as wide as Escalade wheel rims.
“See? That’s a positive attitude. Give it a try.”
I shift the bundle around in my arms.
“I did it once. I got a rash.”
Alice watches the others enjoying themselves.
“Fine—if you can’t be nice, then be quiet. Just until you see how things work around here. I swear you’re going to like it.”
