That suffering would have been too good. Instead, he would be destined to the worst of all judgments: to burn in hell forever, to adorn the walls of the Prince's kingdom as a bodiless soul forever suffering, forever an inferno.
But the Prince gave Jimmy Peters a choice. He was offered the chance to become leader of the Deadlands, king of the damned souls. He would be given power over the elements to rule as he pleased for as long as he paid the Prince's price. The woman looked from Brian's purpled broken leg to Junior Dalton's sagging straw hat as if Brian were a prime cut of meat ready for butchering.
The price would be the souls of the innocent who were destined to be judged fairly for there is no brighter a fire that burns in Hell than that of an innocent soul. And there is no greater a pleasure for the Prince than to take from the world what should never have been taken.
Brian pointed at himself.
Yes, the woman said.
"And Junior Dalton?"
The woman nodded.
"How do you know—"
So much? the woman finished. As Junior said, I have been on this river for two hundred years. I have known many souls such as yours and Jimmy Peters', but none have been as innocent as yours or as evil as his. Your innocence is powerful. It is never easy for evil to overcome such power, but it can if given the chance. You would burn brightly in Hell. And Jimmy Peters would be greatly rewarded, possibly even be given the chance at a soul in the living world. That cannot be allowed to happen. We cannot allow that to happen.
Fright, invigoration and pride battled for control of Brian's emotions. We could not allow it to happen, he thought. Me and—
"What is your name?" Brian asked. The woman smiled so widely, Brian saw a flickering nub of flesh at the back of her throat; the remains of her tongue.
Marie Lefonte, she said. Realizing Brian had seen inside her mouth she added, it is penance for my crime. Her smile faded. I am an adulterer.
"To be raped and have your tongue cut out is a high price to pay."
You must understand that in my time, adultery was a high crime. I believe the punishment just.
"And your judgment?"
To roam the river forever searching for innocent souls, and to protect those that I can.
The final turn came abruptly as Brian pondered Marie's drastic consequences. The tubes bounced against the rocky river bank as he and Marie became immersed in bright yellow light and sudden warmth. The warmth added to that which had grown in Brian's soul, for Marie and for himself. He was innocent. He was good. He...and Marie...had an important mission, a battle against evil itself. He tensed with adrenal anticipation, felt his heart pounding so hard that the rolls of his belly jiggled. To the Circle of Judgment he would go, hand-in-hand with the woman he loved and together they could not be stopped.
That is what he thought until he saw Skeleton Peters and the mass of rotted souls gathered around what looked like a monstrous campfire fifty feet to his left. Their cannibalistic feast made Brian sure that he and Marie were next on the menu.
Skeleton Peters walked to the edge of the river with a ball of flesh in its bony hand. "S·S·Shee-it," it said and threw the mass at Brian. Junior Dalton's head landed a foot from Marie and she shrieked as spray wet and matted her hair to her breasts. As the head sunk, the mouth opened, rippled then burst the small sacs of fluid on the scorpion bitten face, tried to speak as it filled with water. "Runn-ag-gogle."
"That's·s·s it," Skeleton Peters yelled. "Run fat boy. Run you father-loving whore. Run on over here to daddy. Let us·s·s feast together."
Marie turned her head unimpressed with the taunting. She pointed ahead. The Circle of Judgment—there. Another hundred yards ahead, the river and cavern ended in a giant whirlpool. It spun savagely, twenty feet in diameter, crashed against the cavern's solid wall as if trying to escape. From its center, rose tiny orange flames and Brian stared, frightened, knowing that if he entered the whirlpool he'd be sucked through the fiery hole into Hell. Get to the circle! Marie's urgency rumbled in Brian's head as she pushed his tube forward.
What was she doing? She was pushing him toward Hell. No way would he willingly paddle into the whirlpool. Had this all been a ruse, a well-crafted scheme to take his soul? Was Marie actually a Devil's advocate? And to think he'd fallen in love with her.
What are you doing? Go, now, before it is too late.
"Who are you?" Brian asked.
What are you talking about? Dammit, Brian, we haven't time for this. GO!
From behind, a large rock struck the back of Marie's head. The force threw her from the tube and she disappeared in the black water.
"NO!" Brian screamed and started paddling toward her stranded tube.
Skeleton Peters was laughing. He stood with a hundred souls at the river's edge and together they threw stones at Brian. A large one bounced off Brian's broken leg; he screamed in pain; Skeleton Peters laughed louder. Brian began backpedaling toward the whirlpool as stones rained like hail around him. Why hadn't he listened? What was wrong with him?
The river grew shallower the closer he moved toward the whirlpool. Just twenty more yards. Rocks bounced off his body at will. His nose bled from the impact of one. Another had knocked Junior Dalton's hat into the water and it bobbed ahead of Brian, moved swiftly and entered the whirlpool. Brian watched intently, disregarding the continual pounding his body suffered. The hat spun at the whirlpool's edge but would not descend into the fiery center. Then, suddenly, the hat just disappeared.
That was it. The hat had returned to the living world and so would Brian. He paddled with bruised arms faster.
Then the rain fell. Stones dropped in a storm, collected, created a dam—an impasse—ahead of Brian. The dam of rocks was only a foot high, but sufficient enough to keep Brain and his broken leg from advancing. He started moving along the dam hoping he could turn the corner ten feet away before Skeleton Peters introduced another surprise.
And as he finished the thought the surprise came. The mass of damned souls rushed into the river. Each, in turn, rose to the water's surface a skeleton. A mass of bones jammed the river bank as souls continued across their predecessors, fell into the water, became bone. The souls seemed to come from everywhere, from within the rock walls, from the ground; they dropped from the ceiling. Thousands of skeletons collected across the river and Skeleton Peters stepped onto his makeshift pier and walked gaily toward his prey.
"You are going to make a marvelous torch, dear boy," Skeleton Peters happily said. "S·s·so much innocence and a virgin too. Oh, I'm just creaming my jeans thinking about it. First the Deadlands, then the living world, and who knows, in a couple of centuries maybe Heaven itself." Skeleton Peters howled wide-jawed like a wolf to the moon. Ten feet closer. The cat had his mouse cornered.
Then a hand thrust from the water's surface, grabbed Skeleton Peters' bony leg and pulled it into the river. Marie's head broke the surface, went under, came back up, then disappeared. Brian couldn't move. His energy was gone, his body battered and bruised. It was an eternity before Marie finally hoisted herself from the water onto the bone pier. She stood in full naked beauty before Brian. Her hips swayed seductively as she walked to the end of the pier, dropped into knee-deep water, grabbed Brian's tube, and towed him around the edge of the dam.
"You're alive. Dear God, I thought you'd had it. I'm so sorry, Marie. Now we can get out of this together." Marie would not turn around. She continued walking toward the whirlpool which spun a few steps ahead.
Brian could not feel her in his mind. She would not or could not talk. Something was wrong.
Together, they entered the whirlpool and began spinning along its outer edge. Brian gazed into its center where the flames flickered invitingly, wanting. The spinning of the whirlpool and the dancing flames controlled Brian's eyelids, hypnotized them, drew them closed. He did not realize that Marie was pulling him toward the center of the whirlpool—towards Hell.
Brian he heard, but it was only a dream voice. Go away, Brian thought. Let me s
leep.
BRIAN! the voice screamed, nearly rupturing the nerves in his brain. He woke to find himself and Skeleton Peters just two feet from the whirlpool's fiery center. "Are you ready for some fun," the skeleton said. "There'll be a hot time in the old town tonight."
Skeleton Peters entered the fire as Brian rolled from the tube and swam with all the strength he had left. The bruises, the broken leg—he would never make it to the whirlpool's edge. Skeleton Peters came after him. "Oh no you don't," it laughed.
For every foot Brian swam, Skeleton Peters gained two. In seconds, the skeleton had him in its grasp and was pulling him back toward the middle.
Then, something hit Brian on the head, dazed him. At first, he thought it was another rock but when his vision cleared he saw Junior Dalton's head clasped tightly against Skeleton Peters' skull. The decapitated mouth worked the bone, snapping it into small pieces, spitting them into the rushing water. Skeleton Peters could not free itself.
Quickly, Brian rose to the whirlpool's edge and saw Marie standing behind the low dam wall, her arm raised in victory. Behind her, the large campfire created by the comet raged bright white. She had found Junior's head, had thrown it, and now Junior was chewing his revenge out of Skeleton Peters. There was little left of the skeleton and Brian watched with relief as the shattered remains spun and disappeared into the whirlpool's fiery center.