back.
"Right here." He nodded and pointed. "They left the door open a crack for us."
I moved closer, squinting. "I don't see a crack," I said. "And 'they' who?"
"I was speaking figuratively." The masked man fished around in his jacket pocket for something. "And 'they' are friends of mine."
I hiked a thumb at the dome wall. "You have friends on the inside?"
"Never you mind." He pulled out a black leather drawstring pouch. "Assume we're on our own from here on out." Loosening the drawstring, he opened the pouch and poured out the contents.
What looked like dozens of squirming, glowing maggots trickled into the palm of his gloved hand.
I scowled at them. "So what are these things supposed to do?"
The masked man pocketed the pouch, then pinched some of the maggots from the pile in his hand. He sprinkled them on the dome wall--and they stuck. "Maggots eat dead things." He sprinkled more on the wall. "And that's all this dome is--dead tissue. Mummified, like. Created by a process of controlled growth, rot, and dehydration." He kept applying the tiny, glowing worms to the dome in a roughly rectangular area. They immediately set to work chewing and burrowing, glowing brighter all the time. "It's the perfect meal for these special little souped up maggots. With the right crack in the door, they can dig in and really go to town."
As I watched, the tiny creatures wriggled back and forth, tunneling into and out of the black substance of the dome. They moved faster and faster, zipping around like meteors ricocheting in the night sky.
Within moments, pieces of the wall started dissolving, leaving pits and gaps in the surface. Then, all at once, the entire rectangular section melted away like ice under a sudden blast of heat.
"Pretty cool, huh?" The masked man chuckled.
I just shook my head and stared. "Amazing is more like it."
"Glad you like 'em, thanks." He clapped me on the shoulder. "Thank you very much."
Yet again, I was struck by how familiar his voice sounded--though I couldn't quite figure out why.
"Let's go." He started through the opening in the wall, gesturing for me to follow. "Time's a-wastin'."
*****
The masked man and I ran through a network of hallways glowing with dim red light. Though he didn't carry a map, he always seemed to know where he was going. Maybe he was tapping into the place somehow; every so often, he paused, touched the walls, and closed his eyes--then started moving again, turning right-left-right or whatever without hesitation.
It wasn't hard to believe he could commune with Heavenless, that it had some kind of mind. The corridors looked organic--smooth and tubular, like the inside of blood vessels in a body. They were gray, not red, which made sense if the place was made of mummified tissue...but they definitely looked like they'd once been alive.
Not to mention, I was still getting a weird vibe, weirder than ever. From the moment I stepped inside, the queasiness and shakiness spiked and never subsided. So maybe there was some kind of life force at work in there, and it was pushing my damn buttons big time.
Or maybe it was just that I was totally lost and disoriented and had no idea what mess we were heading for. The fact that I'd recently died and been put through the wringer ever since might have had something to do with it, too.
Boy, did I need a break from Heaven.
"Hold up!" After a while, he finally stopped at a junction of corridors. He placed an index finger to his lips, signaling silence, then leaned out into the junction for a look--first right, then left. "This way." Slowly, he moved out to the left, waving for me to come with him.
We followed the tunnel a short distance--thirty yards, maybe forty--staying low and quiet the whole way. At that point, we reached another junction and turned right. This put us in a short tube dead-ending in a glossy black panel.
We crept forward even more cautiously. When we reached the panel, he pulled another drawstring pouch from his
"Right here." He nodded and pointed. "They left the door open a crack for us."
I moved closer, squinting. "I don't see a crack," I said. "And 'they' who?"
"I was speaking figuratively." The masked man fished around in his jacket pocket for something. "And 'they' are friends of mine."
I hiked a thumb at the dome wall. "You have friends on the inside?"
"Never you mind." He pulled out a black leather drawstring pouch. "Assume we're on our own from here on out." Loosening the drawstring, he opened the pouch and poured out the contents.
What looked like dozens of squirming, glowing maggots trickled into the palm of his gloved hand.
I scowled at them. "So what are these things supposed to do?"
The masked man pocketed the pouch, then pinched some of the maggots from the pile in his hand. He sprinkled them on the dome wall--and they stuck. "Maggots eat dead things." He sprinkled more on the wall. "And that's all this dome is--dead tissue. Mummified, like. Created by a process of controlled growth, rot, and dehydration." He kept applying the tiny, glowing worms to the dome in a roughly rectangular area. They immediately set to work chewing and burrowing, glowing brighter all the time. "It's the perfect meal for these special little souped up maggots. With the right crack in the door, they can dig in and really go to town."
As I watched, the tiny creatures wriggled back and forth, tunneling into and out of the black substance of the dome. They moved faster and faster, zipping around like meteors ricocheting in the night sky.
Within moments, pieces of the wall started dissolving, leaving pits and gaps in the surface. Then, all at once, the entire rectangular section melted away like ice under a sudden blast of heat.
"Pretty cool, huh?" The masked man chuckled.
I just shook my head and stared. "Amazing is more like it."
"Glad you like 'em, thanks." He clapped me on the shoulder. "Thank you very much."
Yet again, I was struck by how familiar his voice sounded--though I couldn't quite figure out why.
"Let's go." He started through the opening in the wall, gesturing for me to follow. "Time's a-wastin'."
*****
The masked man and I ran through a network of hallways glowing with dim red light. Though he didn't carry a map, he always seemed to know where he was going. Maybe he was tapping into the place somehow; every so often, he paused, touched the walls, and closed his eyes--then started moving again, turning right-left-right or whatever without hesitation.
It wasn't hard to believe he could commune with Heavenless, that it had some kind of mind. The corridors looked organic--smooth and tubular, like the inside of blood vessels in a body. They were gray, not red, which made sense if the place was made of mummified tissue...but they definitely looked like they'd once been alive.
Not to mention, I was still getting a weird vibe, weirder than ever. From the moment I stepped inside, the queasiness and shakiness spiked and never subsided. So maybe there was some kind of life force at work in there, and it was pushing my damn buttons big time.
Or maybe it was just that I was totally lost and disoriented and had no idea what mess we were heading for. The fact that I'd recently died and been put through the wringer ever since might have had something to do with it, too.
Boy, did I need a break from Heaven.
"Hold up!" After a while, he finally stopped at a junction of corridors. He placed an index finger to his lips, signaling silence, then leaned out into the junction for a look--first right, then left. "This way." Slowly, he moved out to the left, waving for me to come with him.
We followed the tunnel a short distance--thirty yards, maybe forty--staying low and quiet the whole way. At that point, we reached another junction and turned right. This put us in a short tube dead-ending in a glossy black panel.
We crept forward even more cautiously. When we reached the panel, he pulled another drawstring pouch from his
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