The Getaway God

My throat closes up. I try to get some air. Can’t. The world shrinks to a very small dot and I can’t believe that after all I’ve been through I’m going to die because some metaphysical buzzkill is having a tantrum.

 

I hear Muninn’s voice.

 

“What’s all the commotion?” Then, “Chaya. Put him down now.”

 

“I’ve had it with this one. Don’t you see? Sooner or later he’ll turn the Godeater on us.”

 

“Let him go.”

 

I know what’s going on. I’m right on the edge of fainting, but Chaya wants me to enjoy every minute of this game, so he won’t let me. Even when he crushes my windpipe and all the air goes, I’m still awake and pinned to the wall like a greasy garage pinup.

 

Muninn steps in front of his brother and slaps him. Chaya is surprised enough to drop my sorry bones on the carpet. Muninn makes a small gesture at me and air floods into my lungs. I take a long, cool breath of it. Even stinking Hellion air tastes good right now.

 

Chaya rubs his cheek, glaring at Muninn. If looks could kill, the Angra would have once less piece of God to deal with.

 

Muninn says, “Stark has had more than ample opportunity to turn on us and he hasn’t done so.”

 

“He’s a killer.”

 

“He’s my friend.”

 

“Don’t talk like that. It’s disgusting and demeans us all.”

 

Muninn comes over and helps me get on my feet.

 

“Are you all right?”

 

“I could use a drink.”

 

Muninn pours me something from a decanter on the coffee table. I sniff the stuff. It smells good. Muninn must have snuck back to Earth and raided the cavern with all his hidden treasures. I can’t blame him for being homesick. That’s Hell all over. I swallow the drink. It tastes like good whiskey and honey and burns like an August wildfire all the way down my mangled throat.

 

“Feeling better?”

 

“Yeah. Thanks.”

 

Samael comes in wearing a silk bathrobe, like Cary Grant looking for Katharine Hepburn.

 

“I heard noise. Did I miss anything fun?”

 

I give him the finger. He looks at me slumped on the couch and Chaya’s red face.

 

“I did. Damn.”

 

“Shut your mouth, child,” says Chaya to Samael. “You never did know your place.”

 

“My place? I’m quite comfortable in Hell, Father. You’re the one who looks like a peacock in the Sahara.”

 

“Enough, you two,” says Muninn.

 

He takes the empty glass from my hand and sits down across from me.

 

“Why are you here, James?”

 

I cough a -couple of times, trying to get my voice back.

 

“The Angra are on their way. Mason did the summoning ritual. I stopped it before he was done, but something still got through.”

 

Muninn turns and looks out the window.

 

“It had to happen. It was just a matter of time. Still, if we had a little longer maybe there’s something else . . . I don’t know. We’d be so much stronger if we could reunite with Ruach.”

 

“He’d rather die and see us dead first,” says Chaya.

 

I set down my glass.

 

“I might have a way to beat them, but it’s going to cost someone big.”

 

“What’s your idea?” Muninn says.

 

“The Angra want you dead and they want the Room. I can give them the second thing. Herd them in and seal it forever. The trick is getting them inside.”

 

“How will you do that?”

 

“Not me. One of you two. The Angra hate you. They’ll follow you anywhere. One of you leads them into the Room and I seal it so no one gets out.”

 

That quiets everybody down. Samael looks at me. He isn’t happy. I just told him that one of his dads has to die and he knows I’m right. I think the only other time I shut him up was that time I stabbed him. That was fun.

 

“You’re asking us to commit suicide,” says Muninn.

 

“Technically, just one of you.”

 

“See?” Chaya says. “It’s exactly what I told you. He wants us dead.”

 

“It’s not what I want. If one of you big brains can figure out a better way to guarantee the Angra get in the Room, please tell me.”

 

“There might be an alternative,” says Samael.

 

“What’s that?” says Muninn.

 

“Reunite. You fell apart because you couldn’t bear the weight of all creation. Reunite now to save it.”

 

Muninn looks at Chaya and Chaya looks at Muninn. They can’t stand each other.

 

“We would be stronger reunited, Chaya,” Muninn says. “Perhaps strong enough to convince Ruach to join us. Even force him if we have to.”

 

“We’ll still be incomplete. Nefesh and Neshamah are dead.”

 

“The alternative is for one of us to die and we’d be weaker still.”

 

“I don’t trust the Abomination. He is made of lies.”

 

“We should try.”

 

“I won’t do it.”

 

“Yes. You will.”

 

Muninn lunges at his brother. Grabs him by the shoulders and pushes him into the wall hard enough that they leave a dent. Chaya grabs Muninn’s arms and spins him around. Now he’s against the wall and Chaya tries to push him away, but only succeeds in driving him farther into the drywall. Muninn hugs his brother, pulling Chaya’s body onto his. Their bodies blur, like a camera going out of focus, then sharpening again. They’re drained of color. Just a -couple of round gray men settling a family squabble that’s been festering for aeons. Muninn lays his hands on Chaya’s face, and when he pulls them back, Chaya’s skin comes with him, stretching like warm taffy. Chaya pushes away, but Muninn leans in like he wants to head--butt his brother. Everywhere Muninn touches Chaya, they sink into each other. Chaya fights back, pulling away from Muninn so their half--melted flesh rips and snaps. But each time he does, Muninn moves in again, and they sink into each other. They fall on the floor, a writhing gray mass of furious protoplasm.

 

Then it stops. The mass breaks apart. The two brothers lie sprawled on the carpet, each regaining his color. Muninn sits up first. He tries to talk, but he’s out of breath.

 

“It won’t work. Chaya is too resistant and I’m too weak.”

 

Samael says, “Forget Stark’s idea. There has to be a better way.”

 

Muninn shakes his head.

 

“No. We tried it your way and it didn’t work. And Chaya is right. Even if we two came together, we wouldn’t have the strength to hold off the Angra for long. They would destroy Heaven, Hell, and Earth. And who knows how much of the rest of the universe?”

 

Chaya stands up and goes across the room, trying to put some distance between himself and his brother.

 

“You’re a fool to volunteer.”

 

He looks at Samael.

 

“And you’re a fool to let him.”

 

He looks at me.

 

“You. Get out. Now.”

 

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