Final Ruin: The Judas Files, #5

CHAPTER ONE

True pain is never limited to simple physical agony. Suspended in a weightless void of torment with no hope of reprieve, I writhed as the flesh seared from my body, bones bent, twisted and crushed. Every breath filled my lungs with noxious razorblades. The very tissue that made me whole, torn away in ragged chunks all in an impossible never-ending cycle. My body was never spent, the agony never ended. No matter how I thrashed or screamed I could never pull away.  

My eyes suffered the most brutal agony of all. All around me, amongst the raging heat and searing flames, I watched as every sorrow and regret from my life was reenacted in agonizing detail. Anger, sadness and despair consumed me with each horrible memory. Events so horrible and muddled by time that they were indistinguishable from reality. The mind is torture’s greatest playground. Mine had been broken for centuries. 

A glimmer of the impossible caught my eye. At first I thought it was a new torment to brutalize my mind. A promise of hope where instead disparity saturated every breath. I resolved to ignore it, but the draw was too powerful. The possibility of escape too tempting. I flailed against my weightless prison and found I could move. Only inches at a time, but it was possible. Like swimming through boiling oil, every action was an exercise in agony, but I had grown accustomed to this physical torture. 

The glimmer grew to a sparkle and the sparkle to a light. I swam through the murky horrors, ignoring the pain and images that lured me back into their ritual comfort and depravity. The light got brighter as I pushed through and fought the agony.  

I broke the surface of my sulfureous prison with a sputtering breath like the ugly birth of a monster. I struggled to the edge, wiping at my eyes, coughing and spitting. The churning surface thrashed and roiled, threatening to pull me under again but I managed to make it over to the side and hoist myself onto the rough crusty dirt.  

My vision remained blurred while every nerve ending screamed with pain. But I was free. I wanted to cry and laugh and shout with joy, then I felt a hand on my chest. A warden perhaps, here to thrust me back into my torturous prison. I would not go.  

The image of my assailant was murky but I could see well enough to defend myself. I swung a fist out in a wild arc then rolled to the side, taking care not to fall back into the sulfur pool. I tried to get to my feet, but my attacker was too fast. My legs were wrapped up in a tangle of arms before I could get them under me to run.  

Gabe, calm down. A woman’s voice. It’s me. You’re safe. I’ve got you. 

Gabe? The name meant nothing to me. That wasn’t my name … was it? The thought made me pause as I realized I had no idea. 

Who are you? I wiped at my eyes trying to clear out the muck and saw a beautiful woman with long blue hair and milky white skin covered in tattoos. She reminded me of a circus runway model gone terribly right.  

Take it easy. She crawled up and sat on my legs, never losing contact with me as if she feared I might get up and run if I had the chance. She was right.  

We’ve been waiting for you for weeks. I know this is a little overwhelming, but you have to trust me. I’m a friend and I’m here to help. 

I watched her, trying to decide if I should believe her or not. I looked around and saw the pool I had just crawled out of. The edge was a crusted yellow leading into a boiling lime green liquid which reeked of rotten eggs. Beneath the surface I could see the impossible glowing flames that burned down below and wondered how many others were trapped inside that torturous prison. As my eyes went up I saw a field of never-ending pools similar to mine. Some larger, some smaller, but all roiling with the same glowing, sulfureous torment. 

These are the Gnashing Fields, The woman said. And it is no small miracle that we found you. I forgot how big this place is. If it weren’t for Quack I don’t know if we would have. 

The panic of unsurety and confusion rose  inside me again and I had a sudden urge to run. Whoever this person was, she knew me, and I had no idea if that was good or bad. 

She must have seen the growing unease in my face because she slowed her speech and movements to more of a calming demeanor.  

Take it easy. Like I said, we’re friends. I’m Alex. We’re partners. 

Partners? What kind of partners? Life partners? I don’t even know you lady. I began to flail my legs to get away again, but Alex held on tight. 

Okay, partners may have been the wrong word to use. Don’t worry about that right now. We are friends. We’re here to help. Your memory is gone but it will come back over time. Your name is Gabriel Gantry, but everyone calls you Gabe. 

Her words calmed me a bit and hearing my memories would come back felt somewhat comforting even though I had no idea why I had lost them in the first place or what the new ones might bring.  

Please don’t call me that. 

Alex screwed up her face in confusion. Call you what? 

Gabe. It sounds so … I don’t know, provincial. If my name is Gabriel then call me that. 

Alex rolled her eyes. Okay, this going to be interesting. Gabriel it is … for now. Look, there is a lot to take in  and I need you to try and stay calm. We have been here for a long time, well not the Gnashing Fields but––  

Where is here? Where am I? I looked down and realized for the first time since my muck covered rebirth that I was not wearing any clothes.  

I let out a screech and did my best to cover my embarrassing bits with my hands. The sulfureous oily liquid that had clung to my body seemed to be melting away leaving me feeling dry, cold and exposed. Woah, could you turn your head or something. 

Alex raised an eyebrow. Promise you won’t run? She developed a mischievous grin that I could not help but find a little attractive. 

Yes, I promise, just look up at the sky or something. 

Alex snorted out a laugh and complied. Then she rolled off me and slung off a large backpack. 

We brought you some clothes. She reached in without looking down and tossed me a pair of jeans and a t-shirt. 

I took them and pulled on the pants as fast as I could, then struggled into the shirt and got to my feet, still barefoot on the rough crusty ground. Alex stood up as well, looking ready to take me down with a rugby tackle if I even thought about making a run for it.  

You keep saying we. I finished straightening my shirt and fastened the button fly Levi’s that fit tight enough to classify as latex paint. Who would wear a pair of self-inflicted thigh tourniquets like this? I didn’t say anything though. I was just happy to have something to cover my naked body. Is someone here with you? And you still haven’t told me where we are. 

I’m not sure how to break this to you so I am just going to say it. Try to stay calm and know that I have a lot more to explain. Alex looked more than a little ready to pounce. It was cute but I was a full-grown man. If I really wanted to get away, I doubted there was much she could do to overpower me.  

Fine. Hit me.  Was I kidnapped and taken to the deserts of Africa? Where are we? 

Alex opened her mouth to speak but instead I heard a voice that would never come out of someone as lovely as her.  

It’s about time. This voice sounded like an east coast gangster who had smoked way too many cigars. Did you break the big news? Sorry about the whole dead thing but Hell’s not so bad once you get used to it. At least you’re supposed to be here. I’m still alive but here I am, circling the Gnashing Fields looking for you. My wings have had it. I’m molting like a wet piñata. Can we get out of here? 

I stared down at the source of the grating chatter and could not believe my ears … head … wherever the voice was coming from. A coal black duck waddled up from around the far side of a roiling pool as if it should be the most natural thing for anyone to see in a field of boiling sulfur. I may not have my memory but I knew ducks should never, ever, be able to talk to humans.  

Maybe now was a good time to run after all.

CHAPTER TWO

D id he just say dead? I pointed at the waddling menace and took a step back. 

Way to ease him into this whole thing. Alex glared at the duck, and I swear the creature responded by way of a shrug.  

How was I supposed to know you hadn’t told him yet. You were here for like an hour. 

We were here for five minutes. 

Plenty of time in my estimation. 

Neither of them noticed me creeping away in horror. I was a good six steps away when Alex turned to find me no longer within easy reach. 

Are you talking to that thing, too? How is that possible? I can’t be dead. I was just alive. The thought gave me pause. Actually, I couldn’t remember being alive … or dead. I was breathing, thinking and panicking. Dead people didn’t do any of those things, did they? 

I have to get out of here. Before Alex or her feathered companion could react, I turned and sprinted away. I heard Alex shout, but I couldn’t quite hear what she said. I didn’t care. I wanted out of that place. Out of this nightmare I had woken into. 

As luck would have it, I ran the right way. I must have burbled up on the outskirts of the Gnashing Fields because I cleared them within a few seconds. God only knew how big a place like that could be, and I made it my personal goal to never find out.  

My situation did not improve away from the festering pools, though. I wanted to keep running, but the shock of my surroundings weighed me down like a boat anchor. I slowed and surveyed the scene. Red skies, barren ground and a whole city made of scrap metal and twisted iron. It resembled Satan’s junkyard more than a town. Were it not for the tall catwalks and meandering people I might have thought it was just that. The smell of sulfur clung to the air and somehow I felt as though I was missing something. Everyone was bundled up. Wrapped from head to toe in old coats, blankets, and rags. They acted as if they were freezing, but I stood there in my compression jeans and t-shirt feeling toasty as a day-old bagel.  

Like I said, I have a lot to tell you. 

A squeak escaped my lips and I jumped. I turned to see Alex, pedaling up behind me on a rusty oversized tricycle. 

You can’t just run off. There are dangerous things out here and it’ll be night soon. You do not want to be out here at night. 

I spun in a full circle, taking in my impossible surroundings.  

How can this possibly get any worse? 

Trust me. You’ll settle into all of this. For now, let’s go for a drink and I’ll fill you in on the essentials. 

I nodded. Okay. Where are you parked? 

Alex raised an eyebrow. I’m parked right here. Lesson one. Cars are a rarity around here. We like to go green. 

I glanced at the crumbling mess of rusted circus metal. I am not riding that. 

Alex snorted out a laugh. Don’t worry. I just borrowed this from a friend. It’s no Maserati, but when you need a ride, a Yugo will do in a pinch. 

That is not a Yugo. It’s an anal debasement for a grizzly bear. 

Alex covered her face with her hands. This is going to be a long couple of weeks. 

I opened my mouth to respond but was distracted by the sound of flapping wings and a sudden thud on the ground behind me. I turned to see the coal-dust duck righting itself from a less than graceful landing.  

It looked up. "I am sick of circling in a holding pattern while you two chit-chat. Use those curled-up skin hooks for something useful and gently put me in that backpack. The duck stretched out a wing and motioned to the bag Alex wore on her back. Then step off your ivory tower and ride piggyback on this three-wheeled excuse for transportation." 

I stared at the duck. When I didn’t move, he flared his wings, dipped his head and charged me like a feathered cobra chicken, quacking like a maniac.  

I said put me in the pack and get on that trike. He shrieked into my mind. 

I yipped and ran around to the other side of Alex like a child hiding behind his mommy.  

Tell me the truth, I said. Am I going to hear the thoughts of every animal now that I am … you know. 

Dead? No. He’s the only one. You and I are just lucky that way. Alex smiled, as if she enjoyed this a little more than she should. If I were you, I’d do what he says, though. 

I peered down at the fluffed-up waterfowl and tilted my head. Do you have a name? Is there something I should call you? 

Don’t get me started. The duck bristled and smoothed its feathers to look a little less threatening. You can call me Quack. 

I laughed then caught myself when he glared at me with his beady black eyes. 

Something funny about that name? 

No, I said, barely able to restrain a chuckle. It just seems a little spot on. Doesn’t it get a little confusing when you’re … quacking?  

I picked up Quack, then set him into the open backpack, keeping him at arm’s length the whole time. It’s sort of like me running around screaming Gabriel, Gabriel, Gabriel. 

Quack bit me on the finger.  

Ouch. I jumped back, shaking my hand. 

I’m sorry my name does not please you, Quack said. Lodge a complaint with the moronic meatbag who gave me that name as soon as you see him again. 

I shifted my gaze to Alex and held out my finger. Call me a toddler. He bit me! Is he always like this? 

 Alex nodded and pushed away my hand in a playacting gesture. Sometimes he’s grouchy. Step onto my bear defiler and I’ll pedal us to a nice friendly place where we can talk about it. 

She nodded to the low-slung basket hung between the back wheels. Step on and off we go. 

She straightened, putting her hands on the handlebars, waiting for me to comply. I looked around for a moment and took a breath. I had no idea who I was or what I was doing here. I needed a way to figure things out. If this woman was willing to help, maybe I should listen.  

I stepped into the basket, put my hands on her shoulders, then Alex pushed off and started pedaling.  

Besides, how much weirder could things get?

CHAPTER THREE

My piggyback tricycle ride raised more questions than it answered. I took in the sights and sounds as we squeaked through the nightmarish landscape, but my prospects didn’t seem to improve. We wove deeper and deeper into a jumbled labyrinth of corrugated steel shanties, steel catwalks and a near suffocating sense of depression. Hordes of people meandered the pathways and makeshift streets where the acrid stench of burning oil drums belched tarry smoke into the air. 

My memories were a little more than a greasy smear in the back of my brain, but I knew no place should be like this. The farther we rode, the more my mind rejected the reality of what my eyes saw. This had to be some sort of mistake; a place in a third world country where prosperity and hope had long ago drowned in filth and poverty. The world was a big place. Wherever this was, I had to get away and find my way home. But then I would glance at the sky … that red alien expanse made it clear; home was no longer a place I could hope to see again.  

Alex pulled the trike next to a structure that stood out as impressive in this sea of cast-off scrap. The entire building had been constructed out of crushed cars, compacted into the shape of oversized building blocks. Even the front door was fashioned out of an old car door. Something about the place made me feel at ease, though I couldn’t pin down why. Maybe I was glad to see something that didn’t make me want to tuck tail and run. 

This is Hula Harry’s. Alex slung her leg off the trike and held the bike in place while I stepped out of my position in the rear basket. "It’s