Biting the Bullet Read Online Free Page B

blackouts I’d experienced after losing Matt and my Helsinger crew that I came to with a strong desire to run straight to my sister’s attic, dive into the trunk she stored for me there, and resurrect Buttons, my old teddy bear. But since spineless wimps don’t survive long in my business, I decided to go with Plan B.
    I opened my eyes.
    And that’s when I started to swear.
    “Hell is massive,” I told my audience, who’d gathered around me like a bunch of kids at their library story hour. “Imagine looking through a telescope. Think of all the black space between the stars. It’s like all that got sucked into an observable area that you somehow know is also an endless, infinite tract. But it’s not empty.
    “The ground is covered with rocks. Some sharp, some rounded. Most covered with mold, blood, or vomit. Raoul and I stood on a huge boulder just flat enough on top to hold the two of us. In the distance I could see a chain of mountains. Did I mention the rocks? The point is, you have to watch every step. Citizens of hell don’t look up. Not unless they want to drag around a broken ankle or two. Some do.
    “As a visitor, I felt free to explore. So I glanced up.”
    “Shit, Raoul, the sky’s on fire!” I ducked, nearly pulling my hand from his as I moved. His grip tightened, pressing Cirilai into the adjoining fingers until they throbbed.
    “Whatever you do, don’t let go,” he warned me. “Hungry eyes are on us, waiting for us to break the rules.”
    “All you told me was that we couldn’t be late and we had to leave when we were done!” I snapped. “If you’re going to risk my life —”
    “Soul,” he amended.
    “Oh, that’s better.”
    Raoul fixed me with a drop-and-give-me-twenty look. Through clenched teeth he said, “We are allowed only a brief amount of time here. If they can separate us, they will. If we use our time trying to find each other, we have wasted the sacrifice it took to come here. Worse, if we’re separated and can’t find each other in time, one or both of us could be stuck here for eternity.”
    “Sacrifice?”
    “You did agree.”
    “When?”
    He grimaced at me, reached into the chest pocket of his jacket, and handed me a note, written in my own hand: You had a meeting with the uppity-ups during your blackout. Someday you might remember, but there’s no time to explain, and this is too important to screw up. In the end you’ll agree this was worth the sacrifice. So shut up and listen to Raoul.
    J
    “So your hair,” interrupted Bergman, “is that the sacrifice?”
    “I doubt it,” said the wounded guy who’d had to be stitched. He’d shed his turban to reveal a shiny bald pate that somehow made him resemble a rhinoceros, whereas any other white man would’ve looked like a cancer patient. I learned later his name was Otto
    “Boom” Perle, and before he’d become a munitions expert he’d been a wildass teenager who’d burned his eyebrows and half his hair off in a fireworks accident. After hearing that story, bald seemed brilliant. Otto motioned to his wound. “Seems like hell would want something more like this.”
    I agreed. In which case the sacrifice had yet to be made.
    “So the whole place was just rocks?” asked another hurt guy whose rosy cheeks and light brown beard made him look a lot younger than he was. He introduced himself as Terrence Casey, father of five, grandfather of one, and biggest Giants fan of all time.
    I shook my head.
    No, there was more. The plants that grew between the rocks were vicious. The vines tripped. The bushes stabbed. Only the trees seemed harmless. Then a sharp wind blew, and I realized the trunks weren’t extra thick like I’d thought. Those were blackened bodies hanging from their limbs that now rocked and jiggled in hell’s breeze. And the awful thing was, they were aware.
    So were the walkers. Nobody within range of my sight sat and rested. They all moved among one another, never conversing, but often talking