Page 73 of Not Today, Satan
Did I die in that river, and this ismyHell?
“Oh my God.” Nate’s voice is the first thing I recognize through all the noise. “You actually did it.”
I don’t move. If I open my wings, I’ll have to see his face, and even with my eyes closed, it’s all I can see. The pain in his eyes when I said those horrible things on the bridge. They were lies, but they hurt him all the same.
If thisismy Hell, I deserve it.
He gently shakes my shoulder. “Devica, look. You have to see this.”
Moaning, I open my wings slowly and blink against the light. It takes a moment to get used to the brightness, but I gasp as our surroundings come into focus. Things I’ve only seen in photographs or read about in books. A sidewalk. A bird. The sky.A singlesun.
“We made it,” I whisper. “We’re on Earth.”
PART THREE: EARTH
“We mounted up, he first and I the second,
Till I beheld through a round aperture
Some of the beauteous things that Heaven doth bear;
Thence we came forth to rebehold the stars.”
-Dante’sInferno, Canto XXXIV
XXXIV.
We’re in an alcove next to a metal bin Nate refers to as a “dumpster.” I wrinkle my nose as the stench of rotting food—and who knows what else—oozes over the side of it.
Nate peers around the corner. He scans both directions as I use the dumpster to pull myself off the ground, then wipe my hands on the skirt of my dress. So far, Earth smells worse than Hell. And that’s saying a lot. Demons don’t exactly bathe on the regular.
“I know this place,” he says. “Bright lights, crowded sidewalks, the Chinese Theatre with the handprints. We’re in Hollywood.”
A folded piece of paper sticks to my boot. There’s an ad for some sort of motorized carriage that takes you to “See the Movie Stars’ Homes” scrawled across the front.
I kick it off with an annoyed grunt and sidle up to him. “That’s right.”
“Let me get this straight.” Nate faces me. “The entrance to Hell is in Los Angeles. The City ofAngels.”
“Yes.” I scrunch my face. “I didn’t tell you?”
“No, you conveniently left that part out. You left a lot out, Devica.”
His gaze burns a hole in my stomach, and I bite the inside of my cheek and focus on the map on the ground, with its instructions for finding someone named Taylor Swift. If it’s that easy to find whoever she is, maybe tracking down my mom won’t be as difficult as I thought.
Nate sighs. “Where’s the entrance to Heaven, then?”
“New Jersey.”
“Would’ve thought it was the other way around.” He picks up a crinkled piece of paper with black writing on it and frowns. “Wait, it’s September?”
I peer over his shoulder. The paper seems to chronicle human current issues and politics with blaring headlines and bright photographs. “I guess? We don’t exactly have seasons in Hell.”
“I died in October.” His face pales, and he drops the paper. “Octoberlast year. I knew I’d been down there a few months, but not a year.”
His body trembles, and I raise my hand to comfort him, then drop it to my side. Burns pattern his clothing, his face is painted with soot, and dried blood stains his throat. All of which are my fault. I did it to save him, but it doesn’t erase the reminders that it happened.
“I’m sorry, Nate,” I whisper, blinking away tears. “For everything.”
