Aveline and the Fifth Horseman of the Apocalypse

Part 4 - Angel Fight

I'm back in the lift, heading for the lobby of the Empire State Building.

I've been given the two folders by one suit, and a bag containing some clothes by another. The Devil had escorted me to the lift, saying that time was not his own, that I would be met in the lobby and that much of what I needed to know I would find in the folders and in my own time.

I can't say he filled me with confidence.

I'm alone in the lift as it descends. I couldn't understand at first why I had been given the clothes, but when I take them out of the bag, I have to admit I'm impressed. I had come into Hell wearing my favourite baggy cargo pants that were artfully distressed, and a hoody that proclaimed I was a lifeguard at a beach I'd never even been to. My trainers had been on their last legs before I'd walked for two hours in the desert, and now the soles were hanging off. Inside the bag were some practical looking clothes and boots.

By the time the lift is halfway down to the lobby, I'm changed, and I spend the rest of the time admiring myself in the mirrored lift wall. Damn I look good. I know it's shallow of me to think of my image at a time like this, but, wow! The clothes the Devil gave me are close fitting but comfortable and allowed free movement. I don't know what the dark, matt coloured material is, but it feels tough and durable.  At least it isn't leather. That would have been too much of a cliché. In a pocket of the jacket I find a pair of Raybans. Nice. I have an urge to wear them and look at the effect in the mirror. My miss-matched eyes disappear behind reflective lenses.

I wasn't sure what I expected when I reached the lobby. I assumed there would be some means by which I could get back to earth and start my hunt for Charles Hathershaw. I'd assumed I would need to find my way out of the city and back into the desert somehow. But when the doors open, instead of seeing a deserted lobby, I'm met by one full of American tourists. When I step out of the lift, leaving the bag full of my old clothes inside, I realise that I am already back on real Earth and in New York proper.

OK. So... What to do now? I make my way out into the street and I'm in the act of going through the pockets of the jacket, looking for some instructions, or money – anything I can use to help get me started, when I realise I'm being watched. Across the street is a man standing by a large black car. He is dressed like me – dark clothes and shades, and he's smiling as he stares. When he see's I've noticed him, he waves, and begins walking across the road. He doesn't look – just walks through the traffic like it isn't there. Cars sweep past without slowing. My heart is in my mouth but he makes it across without incident. When he reaches me, he holds out his hand and we shake.

"Aveline Flower. My name's Grant Coalbright. I'm to take you to the airport and make sure you get safely on your way."

"Are you a... a.." I stutter, not knowing how I should approach my fellow unmortals.

"A demon, yeah. But don't worry, I'm really a nice guy. Here – these are yours."

Grant hands me a smart phone, a passport and a wallet that bulges with several hundred dollars. I stick them in a pocket thinking I'll check them closely later and consider my new friend. He's good looking, with dark hair and a wholesome, American college football star air about him. I imagine his teeth would glow in the dark.

"I was told you would be new to our world. I see they weren't joking. You should have seen the look on your face when I crossed the road."

"How did you do that?" I ask, realising that I am way, way behind the curve here.

"No time like the present to learn. All you have to do is know that nothing will happen to you. If you are what they say you are, it should be no problem for you. This is demon 101 so to speak. Just cross, and be sure of yourself. Don't worry," he said, laughing at the look on my face, "I'll go with you, make sure you're OK. And remember, you're already dead. What's the worst that can happen?"