Down in Flames

  FOR MY SEQUELS: KRISTINA, MICHAEL, AND ANDREW

  CHAPTER 1

  What if you were hit by a train?” asked Donny. “Could you survive that?”

  Angela Obscura, beast of the underworld, traveler to the mortal realm, member of the Infernal Council, and friend of Donny Taylor, popped another cheese curd into her mouth and chewed it while considering the question. “You mean,” she said after a gulp, “hit and bounced off, or run over and scraped underneath?”

  “Both,” Donny said. “I mean, either.”

  “Bounced off, I’d probably be okay. Run over, not so much. I’m not completely impervious, you know. If an infernal being’s wounds are bad enough, all the heat and steam leaks out. Then you’re gone, good-bye.”

  Donny nodded and grabbed another curd. “But fire doesn’t hurt you, right?”

  “Don’t talk with your mouth full,” she scolded, one of her own cheeks puffed with food. “And no, I thought that was obvious. I’m fireproof, right down to the hair.”

  “Oh yeah, that makes sense,” Donny said. Angela’s hair, which returned in a different length and color every time she switched from her monstrous to human forms, was currently long, auburn, and abundant with curls. She’d also been remade with a cinnamon sprinkle of freckles across the bridge of her nose.

  Donny pointed with a curd. “What if you were electrocuted?”

  “This one time, when electricity was kind of new, I didn’t know about the no-appliances-near-the-bathtub thing, and I got a pretty good shock. It would have killed you, but I was fine.”

  “How about hit by lightning?”

  “Happened once, when I climbed a tree for a better look at a storm. Apparently you’re not supposed to do that, either. That hurt like crazy, and I’m pretty sure I saw my skeleton for a second.”

  “Wow.” Donny thought for a while. “What if you fell a long way, like out of an airplane?”

  She brushed her hands with a napkin and dropped it onto her empty plate. “Donny Taylor, are you trying to figure out how to kill me?”

  He laughed. “No. It’s just . . . It’s just cool. I’m curious.”

  “No doubt you are,” she said. “So, the verdict on cheese curds?”

  “Pretty great,” he said. They were sitting at a sidewalk table under a blue umbrella on a street in Milwaukee. Across the street and a block over, he could see where the Milwaukee River flowed toward Lake Michigan, barely a mile away. Back in Brooklyn or Manhattan, where he’d spent his first twelve years, the streets would have been bustling with crowds and crackling with the weird, grimy energy of that frantic metropolis. This town was sleepy in comparison and sparsely peopled, but perfectly pleasant, especially on a crisp fall day.

  Speaking of pretty great, he thought to himself, looking at his friend across the table. A person might possibly think Angela Obscura was anywhere from fifteen to nineteen, but they would certainly think that she was beautiful in a way that was different from all the other beautiful people. The truth was that she was approximately one hundred and fifty years old, and wasn’t human at all. Angela’s left hand, currently clad in an elbow-length red glove, was always covered with reptilian scales. There was an ancient gold bracelet on that wrist, and if she were to take it off, the rest of her body would quickly transform.

  Just a few months before, Angela had saved Donny from a fiery death. In return, he’d promised to assist her on her missions in the mortal world. That was the deal, anyway. Most of the time it felt like she just dragged him along because she wanted the company.

  “Not a bad little town, eh?” she said. “It all smells like bratwurst and beer, don’t ya know?”

  Donny laughed. “Kind of.”

  “And, golly, look at all the sandy-haired, earnest Midwesterners. Bless their hearts.” She put a fist to her mouth and burped. “Well, I guess we should go. Now that my craving for cheese curds has been vanquished.” She pushed her chair back and stood up.

  “We didn’t pay for the food,” Donny said.

  She reached into her handbag, pulled out a hundred-dollar bill, and looked questioningly at Donny. “That’ll cover it, right?”

  “With, like, an eighty-dollar tip,” Donny observed. But Angela was already on the move and five paces away. Donny anchored the bill to the table with a saltshaker, grabbed the empty backpack Angela had given him, and followed.

  Before Donny could catch up, a car slowed beside her. It was filled with guys who looked like college students. The driver, a brawny blond quarterback type, put his elbow out the window and patted his horn so that it gave a little squeak. He grinned at Angela. “Hey, girl. You’re pretty sweet, you know that?”

  Angela gave him a sideways glance and rolled her eyes.

  “C’mon—don’t be that way,” the driver said. “Why can’t you be friendly? Hey! I’m talking to you!” He kept the car rolling at the same pace that Angela was walking. His friends inside the car laughed.

  Donny kept a few paces back. Part of him was twitchy and nervous, but part of him wondered how this would play out. This guy had no idea what he was dealing with.

  “Hey, how about a smile, girl? I bet you have a pretty smile.”

  Angela stopped. She pivoted on her feet, turning to face the car. The driver slowed to a stop and grinned at her. Inside the car, the friends nudged one another and stared.

  Angela’s mouth spread into a broad, toothy smile, but Donny recognized a fiery look in her eyes. Uh-oh, he thought. She stepped off the sidewalk, right next to the car. Before the driver could say another word, she put two hands on his side-view mirror, tugged, and snapped it off. There were wires inside, and she pulled it sharply back to break them free. Then she turned the mirror to herself, looked into it, and announced: “Look, I’m smiling now!”

  The driver stared back, his mouth open. His friends burst into laughter, and the one behind the driver reached forward and slapped him on the shoulder.

  Angela tossed the mirror through the window and onto the driver’s lap. “Now you can use that to take a good look at yourself.” She blew him a kiss and walked away.

  Donny heard the clunk of the car being thrown into park. The driver’s door swung open and the driver shot out, the broken mirror in one hand. “Hey!” he shouted.

  Angela turned, and Donny took two steps to the side. He knew from the look on her face that she was about to hit the driver with a telepathic beam of sheer terror, and he didn’t want to be anywhere in the line of fire. Even from where he stood, he felt the tiny hairs on his arms tingling. The driver opened his mouth again, almost certainly to bark something truly unpleasant, but instead of speaking, he moaned with fear as his eyes bugged from his face. Inside the car, his friends sensed it too. Donny heard their manic, high-pitched shrieks: “Get back in the car! Let’s get out of here!”

  The driver staggered backward, stumbling over the curb. The mirror slipped from his hand and clattered onto the pavement. He fumbled his way back into the car, tugging the door shut behind him. The tires squealed, spitting blue smoke, and the car accelerated away, driving straight through a red light. Cars that were crossing the intersection slammed on their brakes to avoid a collision. The driver’s bad day got even worse, because a police car appeared from around the corner, firing up its siren and flashing its lights.

  Angela rolled her shoulders and cracked her knuckles as Donny jogged up beside her. “You really need to be careful,” he said. “I mean, that guy was a jerk, but he could have hurt someone just now.”

  She giggled. “What do you suppose he’ll tell the officer?”

  “That there’s a crazy girl down the street with gorilla muscles,” Donny said. “We shouldn’t attract police attention, you know.”

  “Why not?”

  “Becaus
e I’m still a missing kid. Remember?”

  “Oh, ha-ha, yeah,” Angela said. “Well, we only came for the curds. And something almost as good. Come on—it’ll be dark soon. Time to get to the marina.”

  CHAPTER 2

  Long after sunset, they waited in the shadows of the building beside the marina. The slips were filled with sailing ships, cabin cruisers, and other powerboats. The water was calm, protected inside a long stone seawall. Beyond that barrier, the vast waters of Lake Michigan glittered with fractured light under a crescent moon.

  Nobody was in sight, though a few of the boats had lights on, as if the owners might be spending the night inside.

  “Are you sure this is safe?” Donny asked.

  “Courage, Cricket,” she replied. She pointed to one of the biggest of the boats, an expensive-looking cabin cruiser. “That’s the one.” It was as big as a small house, nearly three stories high with a tower perched on top. A floodlight was trained on its stern. Donny read the name in curving letters above the waterline: BEAN COUNTER.

  “Bean Counter,” Angela said, and snorted. “He should’ve just called it Embezzler. Come on—let’s check it out.” With a final look left and right, she walked casually out from the shadows and onto the dock.

  “Hey,” Donny whispered. “Security cameras? Witnesses? Hello?”

  “Land’s sakes, you worry too much. Just walk like you belong here. Who’d be suspicious of an adorable girl and her little brother?”

  Donny frowned at that characterization as he sped up to her side. Something about her referring to him as her brother, even as a cover story, irked him in a way he couldn’t quite define. “Nobody says ‘land’s sakes’ anymore,” he grumbled. His heartbeat accelerated as she hopped onto the boat. He jumped on after her and followed her to the open deck on the stern. She headed straight for the door that led inside.

  “Not even locked,” she said, swinging it open. “Thought for sure I’d have to rip it off the hinges.”

  Donny was going to mention that an unlocked door didn’t seem like a good sign, but it was too late. She had already slipped inside. He followed her into the dark interior.

  “Must be a light switch in here somewhere,” she said. He heard her hand slide along the wall until she found the switch and flicked it up.

  Donny was about to remark on how luxurious and roomy the boat was, until a more important detail became apparent. Someone had been here and made a mess of the place. Cushions had been pulled off the furniture and sliced open. Cabinet doors had been flung wide. Panels on the walls and floor had been torn out, exposing the spaces behind and below.

  “Aw, for crying out loud,” Angela said, putting her fists on her hips. “Well, he warned us about this.”

  Before Donny could ask who had warned them or what the warning was about, a narrow door opened and a man stepped out. It was bad enough that someone had caught them, but even worse, the man had a gun in his hand.

  “Who are you?” he said, nearly growling the words. He didn’t look like the violent type—he looked more like a businessman, with thinning close-cropped hair and glasses. He was dressed in a black turtleneck shirt and dark pants.

  “Eww, were you in the bathroom?” Angela asked, wrinkling her nose. She edged sideways until she’d put herself between Donny and the man with the gun.

  “What? Yes, but—never mind that!” the man snapped.

  “You’re Francis, aren’t you?” Angela said. “Walter said you might get here first.”

  “Walter s-said . . .” the man sputtered, and then recovered. “What do you mean? Walter’s dead! How do you know my name?”

  Francis was using the gun to gesture, pointing it at Angela and Donny to emphasize his words. Angela put her hands over her face, and her knees began to tremble. “Please, mister, don’t hurt us,” she whined. “We’re just a couple of kids. You’re scaring me with that gun!” Donny didn’t find the display convincing, but Francis lowered the gun for a moment, looking bewildered.

  Angela must have been peeking between her fingers. Her arm was a blur as it shot out and snatched the gun. Francis stared at his empty hand as if a magic trick had been performed.

  “So you didn’t find it?” she said, holding the gun the way someone might hold a rotting banana.

  Francis raised his hands halfway, unsure if he should be surrendering. “Find what? I wasn’t looking for anything.”

  Angela shook her head with disdain as she looked at the trashed interior of the boat. Then she rushed at him, using the palm of her hand to shove him into the tiny bathroom. “Get back in there, Francis,” she said with a final push that sent him staggering into the far wall. She tugged the door closed. “And flush it, you pig!”

  She handed the gun to Donny. “Shoot him if he comes out,” she said loudly.

  Donny shook his head and whispered back angrily. “I’m not shooting anyone! I hate guns!” He laid the gun on the kitchen counter.

  Angela jabbed her thumb at the bathroom door. “He doesn’t know that!” From the other side of the door, they heard a flush, and Angela clapped a hand across her mouth to stifle a laugh. The laugh turned into a snort, and she kept chuckling as she opened the freezer door in the galley and pulled out what appeared to be a frozen fish wrapped in aluminum foil.

  “Fish? That’s what we came here for?” Donny asked.

  Angela smirked and tore the foil open. Inside were stacks of hundred-dollar bills arranged in the shape of a fish. She reached into the freezer and pulled out five more just like it.

  Donny nodded, finally understanding. This was how Angela got her endless supply of cash. A man named Walter, the owner of the boat, had died and, like the evil soul he was, ended up in the underworld, which was currently known to its denizens as Sulfur. The dead were encouraged to reveal any hidden money they’d stashed away—and Walter had hidden these bills here before he’d died.

  Angela twirled her finger, gesturing for Donny to turn around. She shoved the bundles of foil-wrapped money into the empty backpack that Donny had worn all day. “You should have checked the freezer, Francis!” she shouted at the door. “The money you two stole was wrapped in foil, just like Walter said!”

  “Are you serious?” came the muffled reply. “In the freezer? I looked everywhere! Wait, how did you know about the money? Who are you anyway?”

  “I’m a hundred-and-fifty-year-old archdemon of the underworld, and my little buddy is the runaway son of a hit man.” She grinned at Donny, who shook his head grimly at her.

  “Oh yeah? You think that’s funny? Well, you know where you can go, miss!”

  Angela guffawed. “Yeah, look me up when you get there.”

  On the way off the boat, she took the gun from Donny and tossed it into the lake.

  “So this is where the money comes from, huh?” he said as they left the marina and walked along a footpath in the park nearby. “People hide it like this?”

  “Sometimes it’s in banks or safe-deposit boxes, and we have people who are good at retrieving it,” she answered. “I don’t usually go after the cash myself, but this one looked like fun. Plus, I had a craving for cheese curds.”

  “So that guy Francis, and Walter—they stole the money from some company?”

  “Uh-huh. Embezzled it.”

  “Shouldn’t we give the money back to the company instead of keeping it?”

  She gave his shoulder a gentle push. “You’re hilarious.”

  “That wasn’t a joke.”

  “Chortle,” she replied.

  CHAPTER 3

  They caught a cab a few blocks from the marina. A ten-minute drive brought them to a stately home built with cream-colored brick, in a well-to-do neighborhood only a few blocks from the lake. A grandmotherly woman answered the doorbell, opening the door a crack. She nodded when she saw Angela. “Leaving already?”

  “Yes, but we had a splendid time,” Angela replied.

  The woman opened the door wide. “Can I make you some tea?”

&n
bsp; “Aren’t you a darling?” Angela said as they stepped inside. “But no, thanks, we should be getting back. Don’t mind us—we know the way.”

  She and Donny went through a door in the main hallway that led down an old set of creaky stairs. In the basement was a tall fireplace, empty except for pipes running across the bottom. When Angela turned the knob of a timer that was set into the wall, fire burst forth from the pipes. Donny caught a whiff of propane.

  Angela cupped her hands beside her mouth and whispered into the flames. A moment later a space appeared inside the wall of fire, covered by a thin sheet of ash. The dark space expanded until it was wide enough to step through. Angela poked her finger into the ash, and the sheet crumbled into tiny flakes. On the other side, Donny saw the familiar passage carved from stone, and the strange little demon named Porta who controlled the fire-portal on the other side.

  They stepped through the hole in the fire, leaving the mortal realm and entering the infernal world of Sulfur.

  CHAPTER 4

  Donny used to feel like he was losing his mind when he stepped into the underworld. But lately he was starting to believe that a person could get used to almost anything. They left the fire-portal behind and walked down the curving tunnel. As usual there was a hint of rotten-egg smell in the air. Next was the ominous door guarded by a tall, cordial monster in a suit of armor. Then came the short walk through another passage that ended with the mind-blowing vista of a vast, cavernous world with mile-high ceilings propped up by titanic pillars.

  Clouds made of luminous vapor billowed overhead, bathing everything in reddish-golden light. There were towns and cities at the feet of some of the pillars, with architecture ranging from crude to exquisite and ancient to modern, some in pristine condition and some in ruins from the great war that had happened decades before. The rest was a strange, twisted wilderness with vast stretches of undulating stone, fissures and craters, eerie formations of rock, and forests of dark mushrooms and ferns. A river slithered through the midst of it all, glittering under the burning clouds. On it, Donny saw one of the ferries, crowded with the souls of the newly arrived dead.