“So that’s your game, is it?” we heard him call to us. “Well, two can play at that.” Then, from down the corridor, we heard the sound of chewing.
“Hurry up,” I said to Peter. “He’s armed too.” Even as I spoke, a wad of gum sailed across the front of our hiding space and stuck to the wall right next to my head.
“I’m chewing as fast as I can,” Peter mumbled as he handed me another wad of gum. I reloaded, stuck my head out, and shot. This time, I narrowly missed his face. He returned fire, and I only just managed to pull my head in as the gum flew past.
So the gumfight continued to rage. Soon the tunnel was thick with flying gum. It was all over the walls and ceiling, smearing down like fluorescent pink stalactites. But with each shot, our enemy seemed to be creeping closer. We could hear him as he slid along the tunnel. In barely a minute, he would be onto us.
“Come on, chew faster,” I urged.
“This is the last piece,” Peter gasped as he handed it to me.
This was our final chance. Desperate action had to be taken. I lifted my knee and snapped the pen into two pieces.
“What are you doing?” said Peter. “That’s my favourite pen.”
“Was your favourite pen.” I placed a piece of the gum in each of the broken pen halves and I handed one to Peter. “You shoot for the right eye. I’ll shoot for the left.”
At that moment, the little man jumped in front of our hiding place. He laughed and raised his pen to his lips.
“Now,” I cried, and we both shot. Two perfect bull’s-eyes. The man screamed and reeled back, clutching at the gum that was embedded in his eyes. I grabbed Peter by the arm.
“Let’s get out of here.”
We dodged the little man as he stumbled blindly around the tunnel, and we raced away. Finally, after what seemed like miles, we reached the end of the tunnel. We passed through a door and found ourselves in a white corridor lit by fluorescent tubes.
“I know where we are,” said Peter. “This is the lower level of the Pearly Gates.” He turned and looked at the door we had passed through. “And this is the door to the broom cupboard.”
“I guess someone had a lot of brooms they needed to store,” I said. “Looks like they’ve been digging right under your nose.”
“Well, they’re not digging themselves out now,” said Peter, slamming the door shut. “Give me those keys.”
I handed over the keys and Peter locked the door. Then we dashed up the stairs and burst into his office, where we found the bellhop sitting at the desk. For an instant, his face betrayed shock and disbelief. But he quickly composed himself, stood up, and smiled.
“Peter, thank heavens you’re all right,” he said, pretending to sound pleased and doing a frighteningly good job of it.
“What are you doing?” Peter demanded, eyeing the papers that the bellhop had been rummaging through.
“I’ve been looking after your paperwork,” said the bellhop. “With you gone, someone had to accept that responsibility.”
“Don’t believe him,” I said. “He’s the one. He’s their man in your organisation. Without him they could never have dug those tunnels under the Gates, or breached your security when they kidnapped you.”
“Peter, you can’t believe what he’s saying,” said the bellhop, and his voice was silky smooth. “Surely you’d take the word of one of your employees over a no-good derelict.”
Peter looked closely at the bellhop. “So you’re one of my employees. Funny, I can’t seem to place you. Can I please have a look at your ID?”
The bellhop started to reach into his pocket. Then, without warning, he sprang across the room and lunged for the door. But he never made it. I grabbed him and pushed him hard against the wall. Savouring every moment, I raised my fist and pounded it into his face. As the impact of the blow sent his head jerking back, I noticed a small object falling to the floor. For a fraction of a second, I caught a glimpse of his face, eyes wide open but alert to nothing. Then he collapsed with a thud.
And that’s when I knew him. That’s when I figured out who his accomplices were, trapped in the tunnel below. That’s when I realised exactly what their plan was, and suddenly I was very, very afraid. I turned to Peter.
“Shut the Gates. Now,” I ordered. “Don’t let anyone into Heaven until I give the word. And lock this dirtbag in the broom cupboard with the others, right away.”
“Why? What in Heaven is happening?”
“I haven’t got time to explain. I’ve got to speak to God. The very future of Heaven as we know it is at stake.”
Chapter 16
AFTER MY BRIEFESTCONVERSATION with God yet, I was able to quickly convene an impromptu meeting of the Heavenly Council, or at least what was left of it, plus a few extra attendees. We met in a grand hall whose walls were decorated with vast tapestries depicting some of God’s greatest moments, including the creation of man and woman, the parting of the Red Sea, and the invention of the remote control.
The splendid atmosphere of this fine hall was in no way reflected by the mood of the other four participants at the meeting. God sat at the head of the table, His head resting in His hands. He looked like the weight of the world was sitting upon His shoulders, and when it came down to it, I suppose it was. On either side of Him sat Sally and the Devil, each carefully avoiding the other’s glance while concentrating the fury of their gazes upon me. Slightly apart from the others sat Jessie, whom I had demanded the Devil bring up with him. She was still wearing her street mime bodystocking, and her eyes were focussed on everything in the room except me.
I stood up. It was time to get the meeting started.
“First of all, I would like to apologise on behalf of Peter, who is unable to attend this meeting due to some important matters he is dealing with. Therefore I will be taking his place today.”
“This better be important, Clarenden,” muttered the Devil. “I’ve had to cancel my squash game to be here.” This was plainly true. The Devil was wearing shorts and sneakers, and a racquet lay on the floor at his feet.
“If you think we don’t have better things to do than sit around listening to you, you’re a bigger fool than we took you for,” added Sally with a flick of her golden hair.
I laughed grimly. “Oh, you want to listen to me. Especially you. You’re the one who’s always so keen on keeping undesirables out of Heaven. Well, let me tell you, it’s too late. The undesirables are well and truly here. Just take a look at all the rubbish and the filth piling up on the streets outside.”
“I don’t have to look outside. I can see it right in front of me.”
I ignored her and turned to the Devil. “How do you get from Hell into Heaven?”
“There are a couple of different ways,” he replied. “There are about twenty service shafts that my teams use when they come into Heaven on their nightly shifts.”
“And the other way?”
“What other way?” Suddenly the Devil looked more than a little nervous.
“You said there are a couple of different ways. The service shafts are one way. What’s the other one?”
“The other is my own personal passage. I use it on those rare occasions when I need to enter Heaven.”
“So tell me, where does this passage lead?”
The Devil squirmed in his seat, clearly finding the question as pleasant as a Sunday stroll in a firestorm. But here in the presence of God, lying and evasion were no longer options. “To Sally’s,” he said very softly.
I put my hand up to my ear. “I’m sorry, I didn’t hear you properly.”
“To Sally’s,” he repeated much more loudly. “Is that what you wanted to hear?”
“No, it isn’t what I wanted to hear,” I shouted back. “I have another question for you. I want to know what the security is like in those service shafts.”