“They aren’t people, Lulu. They’re souls. Don’t worry, they can’t drown,” said Spyder
“No, but I bet that thing can chew on ’em for a good long time.”
“What else do you see? Can you tell how we get to the other side?” asked Shrike.
“Yeah. There’s these metal cars, like the sky cars at an old amusement park, slung on wires over the water. Shit. I don’t know if I want to ride on one of those with those hungry worms waiting for us to drop.”
“We have to,” said Spyder. “Listen, the thing that grabbed that guy, it wasn’t random. Souls are sorted all over Hell, starting right here. This is the Bone Sea. The ones who end up in it are so foul that even Hell doesn’t want them. The ones wandering around this shore and on the other side, they’re maybe worse off. Completely lost. They can’t get into Heaven and they won’t go into Hell. They’ll spend eternity right here by this river of shit. We don’t have that option. If we don’t move, Shrike’s going to die.”
The voices of the wandering souls grew quiet, then came back louder than ever. Lulu said, “Remember how I used say it was all ironic with you named Spyder, that you’re so afraid of spiders?”
“We worked that over once or twice.”
“Be glad you’re blind right now. I shit you not, there’s a twelve-foot-tall spider strolling down the shoreline kicking people out of his way like he’s Donald fucking Trump.”
Spyder reflexively pressed his back into the outcropping and went very cold inside. He wanted desperately to find the tunnel and go back up the way they had come, but Shrike grabbed him and held on.
“We have to go on,” said Shrike. “Trust me. I’ll take care of you.”
“Weird,” said Lulu. “That spider looks sort of mechanical. Like someone took about ten junked cars, some old TVs and prosthetic limbs, wired them together and taught them to walk. And it gets better. The thing’s got a human head.”
Feedback knifed through Spyder’s head, bringing back memories of a hundred sweaty clubs on a thousand drunken nights. A voice crackled and boomed, broken, imperious and mad.
“Move along, you desperate scum, you noxious void of the earth’s bowels, move along! Your fate lies across the Bone Sea, not on my shore! Across the river is the eternity you courted your whole corrupt and sorrowful lives. No one remains on my shore. Move along, you lost lambs, you food for the wolf. Lollygag and your suffering will begin all the sooner!”
“Shrike, get your sword up,” said Lulu. “Daddy longlegs is headed this way, twelve o’clock high.”
A rhythmic clanking filled the air, along with the smell of burning oil, decaying flesh and overheated circuit boards. Spyder sensed some enormous presence looming over them.
“My god. You’re alive,” came the voice. It was low and human. The madness was gone. “Forgive me for that scene a moment ago. They make me say and do those terrible things. The beasts that run the machines. I’m attached, you see.”
“Who are you?” asked Shrike.
“Cornelius…something, I think,” said the spider machine. “I was once one of these poor souls. Lost and terrified. I don’t belong here. I don’t deserve Hell. I refused to cross the Bone Sea. Demons came with nets and rounded us up like wild animals. When I awoke I was the foul thing you see before you.”
“You must’ve gotten on someone’s bad side, then super-sized it,” said Lulu.
“I can’t remember,” Cornelius said. “Kind souls, will you kill me and free me from this endless torment?”
“I don’t think we can kill you, Cornelius,” said Shrike. “You’re already dead.”
“Am I? It’s been such a long time. I don’t remember.”
“Cornelius, we need to get to Pandemonium. Can you help us?”
“I would if I could, dear lady. I’ve never been there or even seen the place, but I hear it’s glorious. I’ve never been anywhere but this shore.” Madness was edging back into his voice.
“That’s not true. You were a man,” said Spyder. “Don’t ever forget that.”
“A man. Was I? How nice. Yes, I remember. I was a boy and we lived by the sea. In Brighton. There were trains and gulls. It was lovely…” Circuits fried. The spider machine lurched and Spyder felt the ground shake.
The demented, amplified voice was back. “Move along, you wandering excrement, God’s pitiful blunders. Move along and despair!” Cornelius moved back in the direction of the shore, hunting wandering souls. His voice faded as he went, but its echo filled whatever space enclosed them.
“I think it’s time to go,” said Lulu. She led Spyder and Shrike to the edge of the stinking, clotted water and helped them into one of the elevated cars. Souls fell back as they went. Spyder felt their hands caress him, as if looking for warmth. The car lurched into the air and carried them over the Bone Sea.
“I seriously wonder if we’re gonna make it out of here,” said Lulu. No one replied.
FORTY-FIVE
Pink Boy
It seemed to Spyder that it was taking a long damned time for the little cart to clatter and squeal its way over the Bone Sea.
“Talk to me, Lulu,” said Spyder. “Where are we?”
“’Bout halfway across,” she said.
“How’s that possible? We’ve been crossing for hours.”
“Daddy, are we there yet? Daddy, are we there yet?”
“We’re not in the world anymore,” said Shrike. “We can’t expect time to run here the way it does at home.”
“This is an E-ticket freak show, I wanna tell you,” said Lulu. “You sight-impaired types are missing some severe shit, which you don’t need to know about. Not if you ever want to eat again.”
“Tell us,” said Spyder.
“I’m just babbling ’cause I’m a little scared. You don’t need this stuff in your heads. My guess is there’ll be plenty of monsters before this is over.”
Spyder shifted in his seat, trying to find a comfortable position. The sheath for Apollyon’s knife kept jabbing him in the leg. When he tried to stand, Lulu pulled him back down.
“There’s things on the wires. Like baboons with porcupine quills all down their backs. The quills are matted together, like knives. They’re eating this green fungus growing on the wires. The bored ones are grabbing souls from the other carts and dropping ’em into the sea. Oh Christ!”
Spyder nudged Lulu with his boot. “Hey, forget the stuff. Sing something.”
“Like what?”
Very quietly and not entirely in key, Spyder started to sing, “We’re caught in a trap, I can’t walk out, because I love you too much, baby.” In a moment, Lulu picked it up, “We can’t go on together with suspicious minds…”
Lulu said, “Praise Elvis. We made it.” A moment later, the bottom of the cart dragged across a beach that crunched underfoot, like crushed shells. They jumped out and landed safely on the ground, as the cart continued its endless roundabout journey.
Lulu grabbed Spyder and pulled him and Shrike to their feet. “Let’s move. We’re attracting a crowd. More of those hangin’ around dead folks.”
Spyder didn’t need her to tell him. He could hear them coming, crunching lightly across the beach toward them. Their voices were like whispers drifting through a long ventilation duct—flat, distant and insistent. Spyder stumbled and went down on one knee, cutting his hands on the sharp shells. Lulu and Shrike started to help him up, but other hands were there, pulling him away, purring and cooing and desperate.
“Blood. He’s alive!”
“Please wizard, do me a service in Hell and I’ll tell you where to find a great treasure back on earth…”
“Take my place in the Inferno and your heirs will rule a vast and wealthy kingdom!”