Blind Shrike

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 who 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 coal 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 go

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?"

"About half way 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 freakshow, I wa

"Tell us," said Spyder.

"I'm just babbling cause I'm a little scared. You don't need this shit in your heads. My guess is there'll be plenty of monsters to go 'round."

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 porcu-pine 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."

Spyder fidgeted as Shrike began to sing. "Just sit right back and you'll hear a tale, a tale of a fateful trip that started from this tropic port, aboard this tiny ship…" Lulu picked up the Gilligan's Island theme, then Spyder. When that was done Spyder tried to remember the words to the Mickey Mouse Club, but all he could come up with was, "Hey there, Hi there, Ho there, we're as happy as can be…," so they sang that over and over until it got boring. Lulu started a kid's song about a dog named "Bingo." They sang every TV theme and campfire song they ever knew.

Finally, Lulu said, "Praise the lord. We're 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!"

"So pretty. The red. Life."

"Save me, my lord. I am a virtuous woman…"

There were so many lost souls on this side of the Bone Sea, and they were much more aggressive than the souls who'd refused to make the crossing. None had much individual strength, but their combined desperation had Spyder pi

"His skin marks…"

"L'homme peint…"

"A warrior…"

Their hands were on Spyder's back, and ru

"Get back!" Spyder yelled.

The weight of the souls instantly left his body-but a second later a hand swept across face. Among the faint gasps and wails, Spyder heard the distinct sound of laughter. He turned toward it and was shoved down hard onto his back. The fall knocked the wind out of him and Spyder slowly opened his eyes. It took his mind a few seconds to register that the streaks of gray and white he saw weren't ghostly fingers in his eyes but the bone beach. When his eyes focused, the first thing he saw was the dim, colorless souls crowded around him, then Hell's rough black cavern walls. They seemed to go up forever.

"Back off!," Spyder screamed as he scrambled to his feet. He heard the sound of laughter again and spun toward the sound, pulling Apollyon's blade from his belt. When the sound came again, Spyder swung the blade at the nearest spectre, a big man nearby dressed in the leather and iron of an ancient Roman soldier. The knife passed through the soul as if through smoke, but the knife tore him as it went. The soul clutched at the bloodless wound, trying to hold himself together. Too late. He split apart completely, like fraying cloth, and vanished with a breathy sigh. The remaining souls scattered down the beach.

Off to his left, Spyder saw Lulu, laid out on her back, her mouth open in a kind of silent scream. A crowd of souls had her pi