BRIMSTONE
VS Episode #301
Written by Joel Rauch



                        NEW BEGINNINGS

				
	“Want a drink?” the young man standing next to her offered. 
 Bonnie looked him over.  He was her age, in his early twenties, 
clean shaven, and wearing a blue knit hat as protection against 
the cold.  He was holding out a miniature bottle of Crown Royal.  

	“Sure,” she agreed, accepting the bottle.  She downed it in 
a single shot, the tiny teeth of the alcohol biting at her throat 
all the way down.  “Thanks.”

	“I’m Tony,” he said.

	“Bonnie,” she replied, shaking his hand.  “Nice to meet 
you.”

	It was December 31st, 1999, and they were in the heart of 
New York City, Times Square.  It was a little more than two hours 
to midnight.  Early projections had estimated two million people 
would take part in this annual tradition, but attendance wasn’t 
quite that high.  Perhaps fears of an impending Y2K crisis were 
responsible, despite the fact that the new year had begun more 
than 15 hours earlier across the globe without any major problems.

	The streets surrounding the square had been shut down since 
last night, and were now barricaded by the crowds of people.  Each 
street was fenced in by metal railing, providing a place for 
crowds to wait for the ball to drop.  New York’s finest guarded 
the entrance to each of these pens, checking photo IDs, on alert 
for anything or anyone who might disrupt the peaceful nature of 
the celebration.  

	“These are my friends, Chris and Steve,” Tony told her.  

	Bonnie introduced the young woman next to her.  “This is 
Paula,” she said.  “How did you sneak your alcohol in?  The cops 
searched my bag when we came in here.”  Public consumption of 
alcohol was illegal on the streets of New York City.

	The three young men laughed.  “Ours too, the first couple 
times,” Tony explained.  “Steve got caught twice.”

	“I even hid everything at the bottom of my backpack,” Steve 
complained.  “The second time they stopped me, I just told the cop 
to take it.”  He laughed.  “The cop told me to go chug it, then 
come back.”

	“Third time was the charm,” Chris said.  “We all made it in 
with our stash.”  He shrugged out of his pack and removed a clear 
bottle.  He took a swig of peppermint schnapps and passed it 
around to his friends.  “Good stuff.”

	Bonnie refused the bottle when it was offered to her.  “It’s 
too early to get drunk,” she said.  Paula grimaced when she 
swallowed the clear liquid.

	“Hell, we’ve been drinking since noon,” Tony said.  

	“I’m trashed,” Chris admitted as Paula handed the bottle 
back to him.  Around them, the crowd cheered.  “Hey!  Bubbles!”  
He pointed; sure enough, someone near the front of their 
enclosure, someone was blowing soap bubbles into the air. 

	Bonnie laughed with him.  “That’s cool,” she said.  “I can’t 
remember the last time I blew bubbles.”

	“So, are you guys from New York?” Tony asked her.

	“No,” she said.  “Minnesota.”

	“Wow.  You came all the way out here from Minnesota?” he 
asked.  

	Paula jumped in.  “There wasn’t anything going on in our 
town,” she said.  “If we were going to go somewhere to party, why 
not here?”

	“Right,” Tony agreed.  “We drove out here from Chicago.”

	“You think anything’s going to happen at midnight?” Steve 
wondered.

	“Yeah,” Chris said.  “You see that big lighted ball up 
there?  It’s going to slide down the pole until it -Ow!” Steve 
punched him in the arm.  

	“We were watching the news back at our hotel, before we 
left.  There haven’t been any big problems reported so far, in 
Europe or anything,” Paula said.

	“Actually,” a new voice said, “There’s at least one 
breakdown.”  The new friends turned to the speaker.  He was in his 
late twenties, tall, and wearing a leather jacket.  “I’ve been 
trying to call my friends in Europe on my cell phone, and I can’t 
get through.”

	“You think all the phones are out?”

	“No,” he answered, “It just seems like the cell phones there 
aren’t working.”

	A cheer went up from the crowd.  There were television 
screens spread around the square, giant monitors two meters tall 
and over three meters wide.  There was one about a block in front 
of where they were standing.  A countdown had begun, working its 
way down from thirty seconds.  The more eager revelers began to 
chant with it, but most waited for it to reach ten seconds.  

	“Here we go again,” Tony said.  He introduced himself to the 
guy with the cell phone, who gave his name as Barry, and his 
girlfriend’s as Marianne.  As the falling numbers reached single 
digits, a million people added their voices to the chant.  The 
roar permeated everything, building to a crescendo at the mock new 
year.  

	The television screens switched to cameras in Buenos Aries, 
showing the celebrations as Argentina began the third millennium. 
 Chris‘ bottle of schnapps was making another round.  

	Two hours until midnight.

	

		

	Once upon a time, more than twenty subjective years ago, 
Ezekiel Stone had known a girl named Tiff Raines.  Tiff had lived 
down the block, and gone to FDR High School with him.  They were 
casual friends, comfortable chatting for a few minutes on the 
street but never progressing farther than that.  One day, Ezekiel 
had run into her and some of her friends at the theatre.  After 
that, when he saw her, there was always a little sexual tension 
between them.  The way she touched his arm, the way she smiled, he 
understood the signs.

	Tiff was a nice girl, attracting her share of looks when she 
strolled down the street.  Zeke had taken her out once or twice by 
the end of his senior year, but he felt no real attraction to her. 
 The girl he wanted to take to the prom was Sondra Kendall.  

	Sondra Kendall was the girl who sat next to him in 
economics.  She was a driven girl, one who had her sights focused 
on college and made sure that she would get there.  Even with her 
3.8 GPA, Sondra didn’t come across as bookish.  She was liked by 
many of the school’s cliques, moving as effortlessly between 
groups as a fish glides through water.  She and Zeke had spoken 
many times at the beginning of class as they waited for their 
teacher.

	And as prom edged closer, Zeke tried to find the right 
moment to ask her to be his date.  But things never seemed quite 
right, and so he put it off, hoping a more opportune time would 
arise.  Finally, just two weeks before the spring’s foremost 
social event, Sondra happened to mention that Nate Parsons had 
asked her to Prom.  

	Zeke was crushed.  Nate wasn’t even someone that he could 
look up to, that he could reassure himself that the better man had 
prevailed.  It was his own fault, he knew, for waiting.  So the 
next morning, when Tiff Raines had not so subtly mentioned she was 
without a date, Zeke grabbed at the chance like a drowning man for 
a life preserver.  

	He took Tiff to the prom, and they had a fair time.  He 
spent half of his time watching Sondra Kendall.  He saw Tiff once 
more after Prom, but broke things off shortly after graduation.  

	Years passed.  

	Then it was New Year’s Eve, 1999, and he found himself 
reliving the same situation.

	Rosalyn, his beloved Rosalyn, was marrying another man 
tonight.  He had come back from the dead for her, returned from 
the grave with the goal of reunification.  He’d even traveled to 
California, living there for a year, hoping that the opportunity 
would present itself.  It was his own fault, he knew, for waiting. 

	He stood here in room 532 of the Edison Hotel, right near 
Times Square.  Ashur Badaktu, leader of the escape from Hell, 
repeated her invitation to him.  Detective William Kane, tied to a 
cross, watched him.  Marcus Atom, a damned soul with the power to 
turn anything he touched into an explosive device, stood next to 
the cross, resting a gloved hand on Kane’s shoulder.  Atom wore a 
bemused expression, expecting Stone to reject Ash’s offer.  

	Stone spoke softly, his vision obscured with images of 
Rosalyn and her fiancé, Dan.  “Yes, Ash, I will join you.  I’ll be 
the father of your child.”  

	Ash didn’t even blink.  “Let him go,” she directed, 
gesturing to Kane.  Atom looked stunned.  “Marcus,” she repeated. 
 He turned to her.  “Untie him.”

	Stone ran a hand through his hair, still grasping the 
enormity of his decision.  “What happens now?”

	“Your friend is free to go,” Ash told him.  Her green eyes 
sparkled as she gazed at him.  “I stand by my deals.” She reached 
out, and touched his arm.  “Zeke, we’ll be so good.”

	“No!” thundered a new voice.  With a roar, the Devil 
appeared behind Stone.  “You’re a fool, Ezekiel Stone, a fool.  
She’s using you.”

	Ash stood her ground, watching her former warden.  Marcus 
Atom stopped his actions at the cross, waiting to see how this new 
hand played out.  Kane strained against his bonds, but with no 
success.  Stone replied,  “Are you jealous?  That she doesn’t want 
you anymore, she wants me?”

	Ash chimed in, addressing the Devil, “I told you, it’s over 
with us.”

	“Finish her,” the Devil ordered, standing a half meter away 
from Ezekiel and leaning in even closer.  “Destroy her.  Now.  Do 
it.”

	Ezekiel stared back at the Devil.  His employer’s rage 
manifested itself in the form of heat.  Unlike the warm and 
comforting glow from a campfire, the heat radiating from the Devil 
felt dark and malignant, reminiscent of his domain.

	 Stone recalled one of his many torments from his time in 
Hell.  He was trapped at in an interrogation room, his bladder 
full.  Suspects from his days in NYPD hovered over him, asking him 
random questions and refusing to let him use the bathroom.  No 
matter how he answered, no matter how he pleaded, the use of a 
toilet was denied him.  He controlled his body as long as he 
could, but eventually, under a torrent of mocking inquiries that 
twisted his concentration, he voided his bladder.  He was 
mortified by his weakness as he remained seated in his own waste. 
 And when his disgust had begun to pall, it all began over.  

	Throughout the torture, one sound was always present- the 
deriding laughter of the Devil.

	Stone stood eye to eye with his former harasser, and met the 
Devil’s piercing gaze with one of his own.  “Fuck you,” he spat.

	The Devil lashed out, grabbing Stone with his right hand and 
twisting him to the floor.  “No,” the Devil insisted, “You can’t 
do this.  You work for me.  I forbid it.”

	“That’s the glory of free will,” Stone replied, unrelenting 
even from his weakened position on the carpet.  “I quit.”

	The Devil wriggled his fingers, calling into existence a 
pitchfork.  He rested the butt on the floor, the four razor sharp 
tines coming up to his shoulders.  “No one beats me, Mr. Stone.”  
He spun the pitchfork around, pointing it first at Atom, then Ash. 
 “No one.”  With speed beyond mortal comprehension, he plunged the 
pitchfork into the eyes of Ezekiel Stone.

		

		I was a cop...
		Then my wife was raped.
		I caught the guy who did it, and I killed him.
		Two months later, I died.
		I went to Hell.
		113 of the most vile creatures escaped.
			They think they’ll beat the Devil
			Nobody beats me.
		So how do I send them back?
			The eyes.  Windows to the soul.
			Destroy the eyes and the damned get a one way ticket 
				back home to Hell.
			But it’s not Hell you should be scared of.  
			It’s losing your second chance at life on Earth.
		Time to give the Devil his due.
	
		

ACT ONE
	
		
	On the ground, Ezekiel Stone watched helplessly as the 
pitchfork dropped towards him.  There was no time to block, no 
time to move.  Just as quickly as his life had ended sixteen years 
ago, his second chance was over.  He accepted it.

	The tines halted, no more than a centimeter from his wide 
open eyes.  His focus went from the gleaming metal to the creature 
that held the pitchfork.  Had the Devil undergone a change of 
heart?  

	The Devil grunted in frustration as he put more and more 
force into his attack.  He leaned into the shaft, adding his 
weight to it. 

	The points would not descend.  

	Ash was the first to react.  She shoved the Devil, tipping 
him off balance.  He clattered to the floor, the pitchfork falling 
with him but never touching Ezekiel.  “It’s forbidden,” she said, 
her tone mocking.  “You’re powerless here, you know that.”

	“So be it,” the Devil replied, standing.  Stone got up as 
well.  “You’ll be returned to me within the day,” he threatened, 
“Everyone you’ve ever annoyed, all those you sent back, people you 
cut off in traffic.  They’ll all be coming for you.  And I promise 
you, when you come home to me, no more Mr. Nice Guy.”  Ash caught 
Atom’s eye and nodded slightly.  The Devil continued to rant, 
“You’ll pray for the good old days, when your sentence was 
impersonal.  For all eternity, you will be mine.  Mine.  So enjoy 
your last moments on -“ The Devil yelped as Atom grabbed him.

	Ash scooped up the pitchfork from the floor, locking eyes 
with the fallen angel.  “It’s my turn now.  You’re finished.”  
Atom held the Devil for a moment longer, and Ash jammed the fork 
into his eyes.

	The Devil screamed, a cry more unearthly and foreign than 
any Stone had heard before.  His spiritual essence exploded from 
the twin wounds, splashing a red glow around the room.  Kane 
watched the spectacle, transfixed by the sight.  Finally, the 
fallen angel was gone, and the room descended into a silence that 
was amplified by the absence of the Devil voice.

	“Thanks,” Stone said.  

	Ash still held the pitchfork in her hand, and she tossed it 
into the corner.  “No problem.  For a second, I almost thought he 
had you.”  She smiled at Stone, and he returned it.

	There was a ripping sound, and Kane gave a short cry.  
“Ouch!”  Stone pulled back from Ash, giving her a quick kiss as he 
did, and observed his friend.  

	“Are you okay?” he asked Kane.  

	Atom finished untying the last of Kane’s ropes.  Kane 
stepped out, rubbing his wrists as he replied, “I’ve been better.” 
 Unsteady on his feet, he leaned back against the cross.  “Was 
that the Devil?”

	“Yeah,” Stone replied.    

	“You’re quitting?  What about your second chance at life?” 
Kane asked.

	Ash responded before Stone had a chance to speak.  “This is 
his second chance.  He’s walking the earth, isn’t he?”

	“But what about your wife?”

	“My wife?” Stone replied, his voice bitter.  Forgetting 
about the time difference, he continued, “In two hours, she’s 
going to be someone else’s wife.  She’s getting married at 
midnight.”

	Kane nodded sympathetically.  “So that’s it then?  You’re 
not even going to try and see her again?”

	“No.  She’s got a new life now.”

	Kane turned to Atom.  “So how do you heal me?”

	“What?” Atom wondered.

	“You touched me, and turned me into a trigger.  How do you 
change me back?”

	Atom’s face softened as Kane’s line of questioning became 
clear.  “I’m sorry,” he said, “but I can’t.”

	Kane searched the expressions of those in the room.  “So 
I’m going to die?  As soon as I get touched by any living thing?” 
 To Stone, he asked, “What kind of a deal did you make?”

	Ash interjected, “The best he could.”

	“Kane, I’m sorry,” Stone said sincerely.  “At least you know 
you’re almost out of time.  I never had a chance to say goodbye to 
anyone.”  He glanced around the room, halting his focus on Ash.  
“Give him a cell phone.  And a car.”  

	“Marcus,” Ash ordered.  The single word was enough, because 
Marcus Atom reached inside his jacket and removed a cellular 
phone, handling it delicately.  

	“Thank you,” Kane said, staring at it.  “I’m never going to 
have sex again.”

	The connection between death and the act of creating new 
life was too much for Stone.  He laughed, and after a moment, Ash 
joined in.  “That sucks, Kane,” Stone said.

	“I’ve been going through a dry spell, too.  Damn.”  Kane 
laughed too, a sick desperate sound birthed from fear.

	“You know,” Atom said in a casual manner, “You’ll have ten 
or fifteen seconds after coming into contact with living flesh.  
If you go really quick.”

	“Oh God,” Kane wheezed, doubling over with laughter.  “I’ll 
never see the Yankees win another World Series.  I’ll never 
there’s so many things I’ll never do again.”

	“No more taxes,” Stone reassured him.  “Everybody dies, 
Kane.”  He looked at the damned souls beside him.  “We’ve all gone 
through it.”

	“Yeah,” Kane said, sobering.  “Can you tell do you know 
where I’m headed?”  

	The room fell silent.  As Kane contemplated the fate of his 
eternal soul, the others recalled their time in Hell.  The pain, 
the humiliations, the degrading nature of the place, each of the 
damned souls reflected on their personal Hells.  Ash broke the 
silence. “Things will change, Kane,” she told him.  Slipping an 
arm around Stone, she continued, “We’re going to end the old ways, 
and replace it with something better.  We’ll remember you, when 
the time comes.  If you do go to Hell, it won’t be forever.”  

	“What car do you want me to give him?” Atom wondered.  

	“Find North.  He’ll tell you,” Ash ordered.  “Zeke and I 
want to be alone.”  She smiled at him, an inviting grin that 
promised much.  

	“Actually, my car should still be in the garage,” Kane 
explained.  Ash ignored him, walking off to the bedroom without 
saying anything else.  Stone watched her, enjoying the view of her 
in her black leather.  Atom started toward the front door, leaving 
Stone and Kane to finish their conversation.

	“You’re sure about what you’re doing?” Kane asked.

	“I’ve lost Rosalyn,” he said simply.  “Ash understands me, 
she’s been through the same thing.”  Stone took a quick glance at 
Atom, making sure that they were not observed.  “God’s system has 
become flawed.”  Stone moved his head slightly to indicate Atom, 
then quickly pantomimed fingers puncturing his eyes.  “Ash says we 
can improve it, make it more fair, and I believe her.”  Kane 
nodded gently in acknowledgement of the communication.  

	Kane held out his hand.  “Okay,” he said, “I’ve got to get 
going.”  

	“What are you planning?”

	“I guess I’d better get out of the city, first.  After 
that I don’t know.”

	Stone gripped Kane’s hand firmly.  The men said nothing 
else, preferring instead to let their last contact sum things up. 
 Their friendship had been short, but it was a well forged one, 
one that would end only when one or the other ceased to walk the 
earth. 

	

		

	In California, Rosalyn Stone and Dan Copper were seated at a 
square table in Trent’s.  They sat next to each other, holding 
hands beneath the table.  Another couple shared their table; Alice 
Atkins and her husband Jake.  

	“It’s good to meet you,” Dan said, speaking to Alice.  
“You’re the first friend of Rosalyn’s from New York that I’ve 
met.”

	“We go way back,” Alice confirmed.   “Back in New York, we 
went to high school together.”

	“JFK High,” Roz recalled.

	“We got kicked out of Prom together,” Alice remembered.  The 
women laughed.   

	“Sounds like a good story,” Dan said.  “What happened?”

	Roz and Alice exchanged a glance.  “Do you want to tell 
him?” Alice asked.

	“I started a fight,” Rosalyn admitted.

	“What?”

	“I just pushed someone,” Roz continued defensively.

	“Into the punch bowl,” clarified Alice.

	“What for?” Dan asked.

	“She stole my boyfriend,” Roz said.  “Henry somebody-or-
other.”

	“Oh,” Dan said.  “In that case, I guess a little shove was 
justified.”

	“Well,” Alice explained, “Nancy got up swinging.  She was a 
little ticked, since you ruined her prom dress.  So it really 
didn‘t stop there.”

	“She gave me a black eye,“ Rosalyn complained, “But Alice 
was there to save the day.  Nancy was no match for the two of us.” 
 Jake grinned.

	“Anyone else involved in this melee?” Dan wondered.

	“No, of course not,” Rosalyn answered.  Alice chuckled.  
“Well,” she continued reluctantly, “unless you count Principal 
Smith.  He grabbed my shoulder and I kinda turned around and 
punched him.”

	“Oh no.”

	“So we got kicked out for fighting,” Alice finished.  

	“The good news is, Nancy got dumped by Henry whats-his-
name,” Rosalyn said.

	“Well,” Dan said, “What do you think our friends would say 
if they knew you punched a principal once?”  Roz and Dan were 
teachers at the same elementary school.

	“You wouldn’t,” Rosalyn said.

	“I wouldn’t,” he admitted.  The couple exchanged glowing 
smiles, and conversation lapsed.  

	As the silence became uncomfortable, Jake spoke.  “Did you 
know that the second millennium is thirteen days shorter than the 
first one?”  There was no response, and he continued, “The next 
millennium is going to be five days longer than this one.”

	“Thanks, Jake,” Alice said, rising easily from the table.  
“Excuse us, gentlemen.  We shall return.”  The two women headed 
off to the powder room.

		

	

	“I can’t believe you brought up that story,” Rosalyn 
complained when they were alone.  

	“He didn’t appear to mind that his fiancée used to be 
crazy,” Alice joked.  “He seems like a nice guy.  Does he make you 
happy?”

	“Of course,” Rosalyn replied.  “Dan is a good man.”

	“I’m sure he is.  Roz, I’m so happy that you’ve been able to 
move on.  Last time that I saw you, you were a little obsessed 
with Zeke.  I know, this is a terrible subject to bring up on your 
wedding night, and I’m sorry.  I’m just happy that you’re happy.”

	Roz inspected her face in the mirror.  “Zeke is an ass,” she 
said.  

	“What?”

	“I tracked him down.  He’s alive.  He walked out on me when 
I needed him.”

	Stunned, Alice could only repeat her last word.  “What?”

	“He’s out here, in LA, sleeping with some blonde half his age.”

	Alice gaped.

	“It’s true,” Roz continued bitterly.  “I saw him with my own 
eyes.”

	Alice managed to find new words.  “Roz, it’s not possible.”

	Rosalyn shrugged.  “You brought it up,” she said.

	“Is that” Alice started.  She paused, then tried again, 
“Is that why you’re marrying Dan?”

	“Dan is a good man,” she said.  “Zeke doesn’t want me 
anymore, and Dan does.”

	“Okay,” Alice said slowly.  “I’m just worried about you.”

	“Don’t worry,” Roz replied, “be happy.  I’m getting married 
again.”

		

		

	Ezekiel had followed her into the bedroom, where she waited 
for him.  Drinks were made, pleasantries exchanged.  After a few 
minutes, he understood.  He had rejected her proposition time 
after time.  Now it was his turn to advance, to pursue her.  It 
was a test, as all of their encounters had been.  This time, he 
accepted.

	He tossed his drink aside, indifferent to the path that it 
took as it fell to the floor.  She leaned against a dresser, 
watching him, her lips parted slightly, a leg crooked.  He crossed 
the room in three giant steps, wrapping his arms around her, 
pressing his lips to hers.  She leaned back, letting his frame 
engulf her diminutive body.  His hands found her wrists, and 
forced them behind her, not roughly, but with a certainty that she 
would allow it.  

	Seemingly from nowhere, he produced handcuffs. He felt her 
body tremble as he slipped the cool metal around her thin wrists. 
 Still, she said nothing, letting him have his way.

	His hands found her hips, and he held her at arms length as 
he traced a path upwards.  He caressed her body through her tight 
fitting black dress.  His gaze followed his hands; he did not 
deign to look into her eyes, although he could feel the piercing 
stare that she cast upon his face.  Only when his hands encircled 
her neck did their eyes meet.

	She stared back at him, her green eyes wide, but still she 
was silent.  Their eyes remained locked as his hands cupped her 
face.  She arched her head back, exposing her neck as his thumbs 
moved closer to her eyes.  He felt the flutter as her eyelids 
closed, and then his thumbs rested on her eyes.  

	It was the ultimate submission.  There could be no greater 
domination.

	Ash shivered under his touch.  She waited, blind and silent.  

	Stone bent and kissed her.  His hands fell away, sparing her 
from damnation.

	She spoke then, moaning his name softly.  An acrid odor 
pierced the air, and the handcuffs fell away, landing on the 
carpeted floor with a thump.  She raised her arms, now free of his 
shackles, and wrapped them around his neck.  “Let’s go to bed,” 
she said.	 

		

		

	“Come on,” Marcus Atom ordered.  William Kane followed him 
down the hall, trailing just a meter behind him.  “North is around 
here somewhere.”  

	“My car is in the garage,” Kane reminded him, “I don’t need 
one from him.”

	“She told me to check with North.”

	“There’s no need,” Kane insisted.  “Would you mind walking 
down to the garage with me, running interference?”

	“Ash didn’t say anything like that.”

	Kane grabbed Atom and shoved him into the wall.  There was a 
lamp just above Atom’s head, and Kane held him under it, using it 
as a spotlight.  “You sentenced me to death, Marcus.  I heard your 
little speech in there, how you felt so bad, about how you felt 
responsible for the death of all those Japanese.  But you didn’t 
drop the bomb, Marcus.”

	“I’m still responsible,” Atom echoed.

	“Apparently God agreed,” Kane continued.  “Personally, I 
don’t think you deserved to go to Hell for your work.  But when I 
explode, you’ll be completely responsible for my death.  You 
killed me.  And, unless you help me leave the city, you’re going 
to be responsible for everyone else around me who dies.” 

	“Ash told me to find North, and he’d decide what to do 
next.”

	Kane shoved Atom into the wall again.  “Every minute that 
I’m in the city, you’re putting people at risk.  This is your 
city, Marcus.  Sure, it’s a few years later than the last time you 
were here.  But your friends are still here, and their kids and 
grandkids.  Do the right thing, and help me.”

	Kane stared into the eyes of the damned soul.  He was crazy 
to be doing this, manhandling a creature that could easily kill 
him.  He thought back to the instructions Ezekiel Stone had given 
him - the eyes were windows to the soul.  This might be his best 
opportunity to attack, to destroy one more creature like the kind 
who had killed his partner.  Then again, maybe Marcus Atom would 
help protect him.  

	Surprisingly, Marcus gave in.  “Yeah, okay.  Let’s go.”

			

		

	Four thousand years ago, Ashur had worshipped Asherah, the 
serpent queen, and had acquired some serpentine powers now that 
she was back on Earth.  Stone wondered if she had worshiped at 
Cemak’s temple as well, because in the bedroom, she was a lioness.

	Their lovemaking had shifted between gentle and rough as 
often as the wind changed.  Stone’s chest was unmarred now, except 
by the remaining tattoos.  Still, he could feel the places where 
her nails had dug into his chest, the lines she had carved into 
his back, and the marks her teeth had made.  All had healed, but 
his heart would never be the same.  The emotional connection they 
had had before was solidified into a physical bond now.

	Ash lay on top of him, her face pressed against the runic 
symbol that corresponded to her own name.  Stone stroked her hair, 
enjoying the radiant heat from her body.  Sated now, they rested 
together, rebuilding their strength to face the challenges that 
the night would surely hold.

	“What time is it?” he wondered.

	“Someplace you have to be?”

	“Don’t you want to watch the ball drop?” he asked.

	“Not especially.  Did you?”

	“Yeah,” he admitted.  This is where I grew up, Ash.  It 
really feels good to be home.”  She laughed at him.  “What?”

	“I think we’re on a first name basis now, Detective Stone.”

	“Okay,” he agreed, “Delilah.”  He traced circles on her 
back.  

	“Ezekiel,” she said.

	“How about Zeke?” he asked.

	“Zeke it is.”  

	“Are there any nicknames I should call you?” Zeke wondered.

	“Delilah doesn’t shorten well.”  

	Zeke rolled, laying her gently on down on the bed as he 
brought his hand near her face.  “There’s Dee,” he suggested, 
beginning a count with his digits.  “Lilly.  Dee-Dee.  Lola.”

	She giggled, a sweet girlish sound.  “Lola?”

	“El oh el aye Lola,” he pronounced solemnly.  They grinned 
stupidly at each other for a moment.  “So where do we go from 
here?” Stone asked.

	“What do you mean?”

	“You said you could teach me things.  How does that work?”

	“Oh.”

	“How did you get free of the handcuffs?”  Stone looked over 
the side of the bed at where the shattered links had fallen.   The 
circles were imperfect, like the letter ‘C’ and the method of 
escape was divined with a quick glance.  Somehow, Ash had heated 
the steel and then just allowed gravity to pull them right off of 
her wrists.  “You melted through the handcuffs?” he asked, his 
tone incredulous.

	Ash smiled.  “Want me to show you how?”  She swung her legs 
off the bed, and crossed the room as Stone watched.  She was 
unclothed, but not naked; the term implied weakness, and she was 
anything but that.  Ash was nude, and each motion of her legs and 
arms gave glory to the work of art that was her body.  Modesty did 
not weaken her as she opened a drawer and removed a digital 
thermometer.  

	“Watch,” she said as she sat next to him on the bed.  The 
thermometer was a small box with a digital display with a wire 
leading to a pointed metal probe.  She pushed the tip into her 
wrist and left it there.  Stone’s eyes bulged at the sight of the 
probe jutting from her arm.  

	She showed him the readout.  It climbed from 37 degrees to 
100, the boiling point of water.  The numbers steadily increased 
until he could actually feel the heat coming off of her wrist.  
The rest of her body was at normal temperature, Stone verified 
that with a careful touch of her side.  

	The visible part of the probe began to glow at the point 
where it touched her skin.  The readout had maxed out at 2000 
degrees, but Stone still stared at it, waiting to see what would 
happen next.  “I could take it to the breaking point,” Ash 
admitted, “but I don’t want to ruin it.”  The numbers on the 
readout began to descend, not as quickly as they had risen, but 
much quicker than could be allowed for by normal cooling.  Ash was 
clearly able to remove the heat as well as generate it.

	“That’s some trick,” Stone admitted.

	“You’ve got the same potential, Zeke.  All of us do.  Hell 
has so much that it can teach us.  Of course, it’s easier for us 
to use our abilities the longer that we’ve been in Hell.”  She 
reached over and tapped Zeke on the side of his head.  “It’s the 
mortal world that’s holding you back.  You’re too concerned with 
living within the restraints of your old existence.  You have to 
see your time in Hell as a rebirth.  You’ve become a new being, a 
soul.  Ezekiel Stone is just a label that someone stuck onto your 
old life.  It’s not you.”

	“You’re getting all mystical on me, Lilly,” Stone 
interrupted.  Ash shot him a questioning look.  “Dee?  Lola?”

	She smiled.  “Lilly’s starting to grow on me.”

	“Okay, go on,” he said.  

	“Okay.  Hell was a pretty negative place, I’m sure you 
noticed.”

	“Just a little,” he replied dryly. 

	“To start fires, raise your body temperature, that kind of 
thing, you need to tap into a source of negative energy.  The time 
you spent in Hell is a good source, but you weren’t there that 
long.  Neither was Novak.  So I created something to help him, and 
I can teach you the same way.  You’ve self taught yourself some 
things, haven’t you?”

	“I’ve started fires a few times, jumped over fences, across 
streets,” Stone said, “I’ve been able to raise my body temperature 
enough to scare people.”  He tried to think of other 
accomplishments to list.  

	“That’s a good start,” she said, handing him the digital 
thermometer.  “Show me.”

	Stone raised the thermometer probe, then dipped it into his 
hand.  The output read 37 degrees.  “Here goes,” he announced.  

	He closed his eyes, focusing on Hell.  Stone found himself 
in the interrogation room again, surrounded by former suspects.  
He recalled the sound of the Devil’s laughter, the mocking tone.  
He heard his own pleas to be able to relieve himself, and he felt 
the warmth of his own waste as his bladder gave way.  He smelled 
it, a dry burning odor, like a cigarette that had fallen into 
rumpled sheets.

	“Zeke!” Ash barked.  He opened his eyes.  All around him, 
the bedspread was smoldering, wafting thin tendrils of smoke past 
him.  The temperature readout read 210, not quite hot enough to 
ignite paper.  “You’ve got to focus on just one limb, or else 
you’ll burn this place down.”

	“Sorry,” he said.  

	“Try again.”

	This time he left his eyes open, staring at the hand with 
the probe in it.  He focused on it, as if he were trying to start 
a fire beneath his skin.  Ash watched over his shoulder as the 
readout began to climb once again.  It passed 300 before peaking.  

	“I’m impressed,” she said.  “That’s impressive for untrained 
ability.”  She placed her left hand on the side of his face, and 
drew him towards her.  They kissed briefly, then she pulled back 
and stared deep into his eyes.  Her eyes flickered with hellfire 
she leaned in again.

	As her lips touched his, a series of images appeared in his 
mind.  As a whole, it reminded him of a propaganda film, designed 
to invoke an emotional response.  But this montage that was far 
more effective than any picture on a screen, because the 
projection was not a simple picture, but the raw emotion felt by 
the person who had experienced it.  

	One face jumped out at him, that of Charlie Reed, the old 
man he had saved in a LA nursing home.  It wasn’t the old man’s 
profile he saw, however, but that of a younger Charlie Reed, 
visibly drunk, and hellbent on beating him.  Just as he realized 
he was reliving part of Brian Reed’s life, the next segment 
appeared, leaving only Brian’s hatred behind.  

	Dozens and dozens of slices flew by, and his hatred grew 
with each of them.  When the final scene ended, just as swiftly as 
it had began, he found his eyes again focused on Ash.  

	Gently, she turned his head, forcing him to focus on the 
metal probe sticking out from his wrist.  “Now,” she commanded.

	He channeled his hatred, and the numbers on the digital 
readout increased rapidly.  When it reached the upper limit, he 
stared, amazed at what he had accomplished.  Ash was grinning 
again, and he found himself aroused.  He tossed the thermometer 
away, and the bed transformed from a classroom to a playground 
once more.

		

		

	In the parking garage, Kane still followed behind Atom.  
Kane looked around, making sure no one was nearby.  “That was too 
close, Marcus.  That guy almost touched me.”

	“Sorry.”

	“That’s my car over there,” Kane said, pointing.  He started 
to walk towards it, but Atom grabbed his arm.  

	“Ash promised me redemption,” he said.

	“What?” Kane asked, turning to look at him.  If he could 
just make it to the car, he kept an extra pistol under the seat.  
He could dispatch the man who had set his own death in motion.  

	“If I helped her,” Atom explained.  “She said I wouldn’t 
have to go back to Hell, if I used my powers to help.”

	“I understand,” Kane said.  “Ash used you.”  He took a step 
towards his car.  

	“She sent one of the escapees to seduce me.”

	“Dang,” Kane complained, “Everyone is having sex except me.”

	Marcus chuckled, but continued, “Once I found out who she 
was, Lizzy told me that Ash could help me.  That all those faces I 
saw in Hell, the ones I condemned to death, I could be free of 
them.”  He dipped his head, ashamed to look up.  “I was weak.  I 
admit it.”  

	Kane reached his car and unlocked it.  “Answer me something, 
though.  That woman, of Ash’s, was she hot?”

	Atom looked off wistfully.  “She was more beautiful than 
Rita Hayworth in ‘Strawberry Blonde.’”  

	From beneath his car seat, Kane retrieved his pistol.  Atom 
was just a few feet away from his car, an easy target.  “I’m glad. 
 At least you’ll have one good memory to take back to Hell with 
you.”  With that, he swung the gun up, his finger on the trigger.  

	It was a perfect plan, and it caught Atom by surprise.  But 
a fellow by the name of Murphy had dictated the likelihood of 
error intruding upon any action, and his hypothesis was once again 
proven.  In his haste, Kane bumped the roof of the car with the 
gun, and he accidentally pulled the trigger.  The gun sounded off 
in the garage, and Atom froze.

	Kane recovered, and fired twice more before Atom moved.  The 
shots would have been fatal to any mortal, but Atom was beyond 
that.  Finally, he broke from his paralysis, and ran behind a 
concrete column.  “What are you doing!” Atom shouted.  

	“Just returning the favor,” Kane yelled back.  “You’ve 
sentenced me to death, it’s only fair to do the same to you!”

	“Get the hell out of here,” Atom told him.  “You’ve got 
thirty seconds, then the gloves are coming off.  You hear me?  The 
gloves are coming off!”

	Kane pounded the roof of his car in frustration.  He’d had 
his chance, but he’d missed.  With Atom’s threat still hanging in 
the air, he surrendered.  “You win,” he called.  “I’m leaving.”  
He climbed in his car and started it, still holding his pistol.  

	Atom peered around the corner at him.  Kane saw him, but was 
impotent to act.  By the time he got his gun aimed and fired 
through his windshield, Atom would have dodged.  Kane put the car 
in gear, and drove out.

	“No one is on your side,” Atom said quietly to himself.  
“Ash is the only one you can trust.”  With that, he headed back 
inside the hotel.  

		

		

	“That was amazing, Zeke,” Ash told him.  “I see why you were 
named Stone.”

	Zeke grinned.  “Thanks.”  The couple dressed as they spoke. 
 “So, now what?  You’re not planning on blowing up Time’s Square 
still, are you?”  

	“We made a deal, didn‘t we?  Reinforcements would be nice, 
but they can wait.  We need a way to bring down the gates of 
heaven.  I’ve got friends on the inside who can help, friends just 
as committed to change as we are.”  Ash approached him, wrapping 
her arms around him.  “We’re going to do it, Zeke.  Together, 
we’re going to bring down God.”

		

ACT TWO

	

	There was a knock at the door, and Stone went to answer it. 
 North Ratare stood there, dressed in casual clothes.  His right 
arm ended at the elbow and he was holding a beer in his left hand. 
  Stone let him in, wondering how North had knocked.

	“Happy New Year,” North announced as he saw Ash.  “Just a 
little over an hour to go.”  

	“Yeah,” Ash agreed.  “A new millennium.  My millennium.”  

	“Are we going downstairs to watch the ball drop at 
midnight?” Stone asked.  “Or were you going to stay up here?”

	“Zeke, I got this room so we’d have great view of the 
festivities.  But without the crowd.”

	“That’s my kind of crowd down there,” Stone said.

	“Not mine,” North said.  

	“North, where you from?”

	“South Dakota,” he answered.  He stood near the window, and 
looked down into the square as he continued.  “Crowds like this 
are unnatural.” 

	Stone noticed Ash nodding agreement.  “Millions of people, 
all gathered in one place.  The best I can say for it is that is 
makes it easy to hide.”

	“Come on,” Stone said jovially.  “There’s nothing unnatural 
about New York.  Jersey, on the other hand...”

	“Why don’t you go mix with the crowd?” Ash suggested.  “I 
know you’ve been looking forward to this for a long time.”

	“Yeah, I guess I have,” Stone admitted.  “I’ll come back up 
before midnight.”

	“You don’t have to,” Ash said.  “Ring in the New Year with 
everyone else.  But, Zeke, afterwards, come back.”

	“It’s a deal,” he said.  He crossed the room to her, bending 
to kiss her before he left.  She turned her head, forcing him to 
press his lips to her cheek.  He straightened, searching her face 
for an explanation.  Her expression revealed nothing, gave no sign 
that their erotic adventures of the last hour had left the 
slightest impression on her.  

	Ash said nothing else to him, only motioned North over to 
the table where she sat.  Dismissed, Stone retrieved his coat.  
North nodded to him on his way out the door.

		

		

	The hallway was almost empty, and Stone found himself 
wondering how Kane was making out.  The building hadn’t exploded, 
so Kane must be okay.  He also hadn’t felt Atom’s tattoo burn 
away, so if Kane had attacked, he must have failed.  

	Stone approached the elevators.  A bellboy was there, 
sweeping up small bits of litter from the short red carpet.  “Good 
evening, Sir,” he said when Stone was ten feet away.  He held his 
hand over the call buttons for the elevator.  “Are you going up or 
down?”

	The question rang through his head.  How many times had he 
joked about that very same topic, the impending direction of his 
immortal soul?  Was he trading in a chance for redemption because 
he’d lost Rosalyn?  Going up or going down - two mutual exclusive 
states of existence, just like redemption and damnation.  

	“Sir?” the bellboy repeated.  He stood there, miniature 
broom leaning against the gray slate wall, his eyes focused on 
Stone’s approach as his hand hovered next to the unlit arrows.  

	“It’s okay,” Stone told him.  Dreams and nightmares ran 
through his mind.  “I’ve got it.”  Reaching past the bellboy, he 
stabbed a button.  

		

		

	Stone stepped out onto the roof of the hotel.  The night air 
was cold, just below freezing, but still unseasonably warm.  It 
was a good place to think, to be alone.  As much as he’d looked 
forward to this celebration, too many things were happening 
tonight for him to enjoy it.

	He’d betrayed the Devil and broken his word.  And what had 
he gained?  A woman who would always be his second choice?  
Rosalyn could never understand him the way Ash did, but that 
wasn’t all bad.  Rosalyn would never be condemned to Hell; she 
never would have sacrificed her own child like Ash had.  

	His new bargain had saved the life of his friend, or at 
least granted Kane a stay of execution.  More importantly, Ash had 
discarded her plans to destroy Times Square.  The million people 
gathered there had been saved.

	He wasn’t alone up here, Stone saw.  There was another 
figure standing at the edge of the roof.  It was a woman, in her 
late twenties, with long dark hair.  She looked over the edge of 
the roof, paying no attention to him.  She hadn’t even flinched 
when the door behind him had closed.  

	“Nice night,” he said as way of introduction.

	She turned to look at him, cool, calm and collected.  
“They’re just about to do a countdown,” she said.  “Twenty 
seconds.”

	Stone peered over the side of the roof, realizing how high 
he was by the tinyness of the people below.  He spotted one of the 
giant television screens that was placed in the square - sure 
enough, there was a giant number thirteen on it, counting down.  
When it reached 10, the entire crowd added its voice.  “Ten, nine, 
eight,” they chanted.  

	Stone grinned at the perfection of his timing.  “Three, two, 
one,” he called, as the crowd burst into cheers.  “Happy New 
Year.”  It was only 11pm in New York, but it was midnight 
somewhere in the world.  

	The woman returned his enthusiasm.  “Happy New Year,” she 
repeated.  They watched the monitors on the street below as they 
showed scenes from Caracas.   “I’m Lizzy,” she said.  “Lizzy 
Darke.”

	“Zeke Stone,” he replied, offering his hand.  “One more hour 
to go.”  

	She shook with him.  “Last year was the first time I missed 
ringing in the New Year here since I was 18,” she told him.  “I 
started the tradition back in 1989, when I moved into the city.  
It was so great, when the decade ended, and the year rolled over. 
 Waiting for tonight, for the millennium, it’s been a long ten 
years.  But it’s finally here.”

	“Why aren’t you celebrating with your friends?” Stone 
wondered.

	“We had a little falling out last year.  You know what I 
mean.  They wouldn’t accept me anymore.”

	“That’s the great thing about tonight,” Stone said.  
“There’s so many of people out here, no one would recognize us.  
We can just be anonymous.”

	“Sometimes, we don’t deserve companionship,” Lizzy said 
sadly, looking down at the street.

	Stone backed off a step.  “Hey, I’m sorry to bother you.  
I’ll leave you alone.”

	“It’s okay,” Lizzy said. She reached into her pocket and 
removed a smashed pack of cigarettes.  She held it out to him as a 
peace offering, but he waved a hand and declined.  Lizzy took out 
a cigarette and put it between her lips.  Making eye contact with 
Zeke, she held her palm to the end of it.  After a second, smoke 
began to rise.

	“You’re a-“ he said.

	She laughed, a short unhappy sound.  “Who are we fooling, 
Zeke?  Ourselves?”

	He looked at her again, reappraising her.  “You seem like a 
nice girl,” he said.

	“Hmm.  Guess I fooled you, too.”

	“What did you do?”

	“What, recently?  I seduced a man, so he would help Ash.  
That was my contribution to her little plan tonight.  I came back 
from the dead to be a whore.”

	“Wait, was it Marcus Atom?”  She nodded.  “Well, uh, I see 
how you got his attention.”

	“What about you?” she asked.  “Rumor has it that you and Ash 
had a thing going.”  Lizzy looked him up and down.  

	“Who did you hear that from?” he asked, wondering if she was 
referring to tonight’s encounter, or to past events in Los 
Angeles.

	“Jessica told me,” she said.  “When we were watching you in 
LA.”

	“You were watching me?” he asked.

	“That place on Paper Street,” she said.  “We were waiting, 
in case you tried to run from Luke and Tyrone.”  She looked for a 
reaction.  “North was so pissed at you that night, when you sent 
back Mike and Paul.”

	“Yeah, well,” Stone said,  “he was lucky Ash showed up, or 
he would have been next.”

	Lizzy laughed again, a healthy sound this time.  “Funny, he 
says the same thing about you.”  Lizzy took a last drag from her 
cigarette, then flicked it off the roof.  They watched as it arced 
down into the crowd.

	“That’s a little rude,” Stone said.  “You can hurt someone 
doing that.”  

	“I told you what I did,” she said.  “There’s going to be a 
lot more people that get hurt tonight, and it’s my fault.”

	“What?”

	“You know, the boom boom at midnight?”

	“Oh,” Stone said.  “Ash called that off.  We made a deal.”

	“Really?” Lizzy asked, brightening.  “Good.  Good.  I’m 
glad.  I thought this was the last time I‘d get to see Times 
Square.”   She looked at Stone again.  “So she really did get you 
to switch sides?” 

	“Yeah,” Stone confirmed.

	“I didn’t know we could do that,” Lizzy said.

	“I made a deal with the Devil,” he pointed out. “And I broke 
it.  We’ve all got free will.”

	“But,” she started to say.  “Never mind.”

	“You’ve got free will too, Liz,” he said.

	“Lizzy,” she corrected.

	“Sorry.  But it’s true.”

	Lizzy was silent for a moment, lighting another cigarette 
off of herself.  “I know,” she said softly.  “No one forced me to 
seduce Marcus.  Ash asked me to, and I choose to do it.”  Stone 
said nothing, waiting for her to continue.  “Sometimes, I just 
feel all this hate, and I don’t care who’s going to get hurt.”  
She took a deep drag from the cigarette, then exhaled.  It was 
hard to be certain in the cloud of smoke, but Stone thought that 
he saw wisps rising from her eyes also.

	He recalled when he’d first met Sally Ann McGee, back in LA. 
 She’d been crying over her lost boyfriend, Wolfie.  For all the 
pain and suffering that these women had experienced, they still 
felt empathy for the living.  Ash, on the other hand, had perhaps 
lost touch with her humanity after 4,000 years in Hell.  

	“Hey,” he said.  “You don’t think Ash would break our deal, 
do you?”

	“I don’t know,” she said.  “I’ve only met her a couple of 
times.”

	Stone was silent for a moment.  “Do you know what room 
Marcus Atom is in?”

	“Why?”

	“I just want to check up on him.  Make sure no one’s up to 
anything. “

	Lizzy thought it over.  “Why don’t you ask Ash?”

	“Lizzy,” he said carefully.  “I grew up here in New York.  I 
love this town just as much as you do.  Neither one of us wants to 
see something happen here tonight that would kill a lot of 
innocent people.  You don’t have to tell me where he is.  It’s 
your choice.  But I’m hoping you’ll make the right one.”

	“Okay,” Lizzy said.  “He’s in 324.”

	“Thank you,” Stone said.  “It’s going to be a New Year soon. 
 It’s a perfect time to make a resolution, if you want to make a 
new beginning.”  Lizzy nodded silently, and Stone walked away.

	Lizzy took the cigarette from her mouth, and prepared to 
flick it off the edge of the roof.  Then, thinking things over, 
she halted and dropped it near her feet.  She crushed it out, 
leaving nothing behind but the filter and a smear of ash.

		

		

	Kane dialed the phone carefully as he made his way down the 
interstate.  On the second ring, she answered.  “Hello,” Sophia 
D’Amatto said.

	For a moment, Kane considered hanging up.  But it could be 
his last chance, so he forced himself to speak.  “Sophia?” he 
said.

	“Will?  What’s up?”

	“Hey.  Nothing much.  Well, actually, I’m on my way out of 
town.”

	“What?” she asked.  “Aren’t you supposed to be on duty 
tonight?”

	“Something came up,” he said.  “I had to leave the city.”

	“Will, I really can’t talk right now,” she said.  “Give me a 
call tomorrow or something, okay?”

	“Wait,” he said.  “Wait.  I might not be able to talk 
tomorrow.”

	“What’s wrong?” she demanded.

	“It’ll be okay,” he said.  “But I just wanted to call and 
apologize.  I’m sorry about the way things ended between us.  It 
was my fault.”

	“Are you drunk?” she asked suspiciously.

	“No,” he replied.  “I’m sober.  But I just wanted you to 
know I was sorry.  I wanted to tell you before, when I heard about 
you and Mike. Then your dad died, and I just kept putting it off.”

	“Will, don’t do this,” she said.  “You had your chance.  I 
know when Charlie died, it tore you up.  I tried to be there for 
you, but you wouldn’t let me.  You pushed me away.  You can’t call 
me up and expect to get back together just because you heard I’m 
engaged.”

	“I don’t expect us to get back together,” he said simply.  
“I’ve accepted it now.  You deserve better than I can give you, 
and I hope Mike makes you happy.”

	“He does, Will.  Thank you.” She paused.  “I really can’t 
talk now.”  

	“Okay, I’ll let you go,” he told her.

	“Okay.”

	“Bye, I love you,” he said.

	Without thinking, she responded in kind.  “I love you too.” 
 Then the line was broken.  Only after she’d hung up did she 
realize what she’d said.  The words echoed in her head, and she 
wondered about his motivation later, when the report about him 
came over the radio. 

		

		

	Ezekiel Stone knocked on the door to room 324.  

	“Who is it?” Marcus Atom demanded from inside.  The dot of 
light through the peephole disappeared for a moment as he peered 
out.

	“It’s me, Stone.”

	“What do you want?” Atom asked, still not opening the door.

	“I just want to talk to you.”

	“Your little friend tried to kill me.”

	Stone tried not to grin.  “Guess he was a little ticked that 
you turned him into a bomb.  Can you open the door?”

	“No, I don’t think so.  I don’t trust you.”

	Stone sighed.  “Lizzy was worried about you.  She wondered 
how you were doing.”

	There was a pause, then the door opened a crack.  “You 
talked to her?” Atom asked.

	“Yeah, I did.”

	Atom thought it over, then opened the door all the way.  
“Come in.  But leave the door open.”  The television was on, tuned 
to live coverage of Times Square.  Atom turned the sound off, then 
sat on the bed.  He waved Stone to a chair.  “So what’d she say 
about me?”

	“She was just wondering about you.   She’s from New York 
too, you know.”

	“I know.  We talked for hours.  She’s quite a girl.”

	“She said she might come down later, to see you.  But she’s 
a little scared of your abilities.”

	“Hard to believe that she could be scared of anything,” 
Marcus said.  Stone nodded, but did not reply.  Marcus continued, 
“She knows I can control it.  Anyway, what is she afraid of?  The 
only thing that can trigger one of my detonators is a living 
creature.  She‘s dead, just like us.”

	“Point,“ Stone conceded.  “Is there anyway to reverse the 
effects, when you’ve triggered something?”

	“No.  I would have helped your friend Kane if I could have. 
 Up until the time he tried to kill me,” he finished bitterly.  
“You told him about our weakness, didn’t you?  He was aiming for 
my eyes.”

	“Ash destroyed Novak’s eyes right in front of him,” Stone 
explained, mentally cheering Kane’s attempt.  “Maybe that’s where 
he picked it up.”

	Atom wasn’t paying attention.  “What the hell?” he said.  “I 
swear these goddamn things follow me.”  Scampering across the 
room, staying next to the wall, was a small brown mouse.  Atom 
shook his head.  “Nasty little buggers,” he said.

	The mouse approached Stone, and he pounced.  He scooped it 
up in his hands, holding it securely.  “I’ll get rid of him for 
you,” he said, standing up.  Atom watched as he stepped out into 
the hall, talking quietly to the creature that he carried.  He 
returned in a moment and resumed his place in the chair.

	“They don’t seem as bad now,” Atom told him.  “My apartment, 
back in the 40s, it was overrun by the little vermin.  I could 
hear them running around at night while I tried to sleep.  Nothing 
worked, traps, poison.  I was working on a project that would win 
the war for us.  I was an important person.  But did I have a 
decent place to live?  Hell, no!”

	“So why did you go back there?” Stone wondered.

	Atom shrugged.  “The key still worked.”

		

		

	“Knock, knock,” came a voice.  Stone and Atom looked up.  
North Ratare stood in the doorway, leaning against the door with 
his right shoulder.  “This is a cozy picture.”  After a moment of 
silence, he continued, addressing Marcus Atom, “Ash wants to see 
you upstairs.  Now.”  

	“Okay,” he replied.  “What for?”

	“How should I know?” North feigned ignorance.  “You’ll have 
to ask her.”

	Atom rose.  “Later, Stone,” he said.  “Close the door on 
your way out.”

	“I’ll go with you,” Stone replied.  He tried to follow the 
scientist out of the room, but North blocked his path.  

	“Thought you were out, getting ready to watch the ball 
drop?” North challenged.

	“Things change,” Stone replied.

	North dominated the entryway, and the stump of his right arm 
pulsed, as though he was preparing to regenerate his missing limb. 
 “The boss wants to be left alone right now.  And what are you 
doing talking to Atom anyway?”

	Stone glanced at the clock in the room; it was after 11:30. 
 “We’re both very concerned about the disappearing rainforests.”  
North scoffed.  Stone wondered.  “If we’re going to be working 
together, North, we should get to know each other.  What was it 
like, growing up in South Dakota?”

	“Empty.”

	Stone tried again.  “That’s an unusual name.  Is it a 
nickname?”

	“No, that’s what my parent’s named me.  From the movie North 
by Northwest.”

	“Huh.  Why not Cary or Grant?”

	North shrugged.  “I was the third child.  Those are my older 
brothers.”

	“Okay,” Stone said, reflecting on a family that would name 
their children after a movie.  Glancing at the clock again, he 
tried to remember information from his last encounter with North. 
 “So, where did you meet that Ten Rudely guy, back in LA?”

	“I was the one who got him started with the fight club.  He 
kept talking about the movie, so I set up a place for him to host 
them.”

	Stone remembered what Lizzy had told him.  “Hope it wasn’t 
just for my benefit.  It must have been a pain in the ass to get 
everyone together.  Tyrone, Luke, all them.”  

	North shrugged.  “What ever Ash wants, she gets.  You turned 
her down that night.  But now she’s got you.”

	Stone tried to pass it off.  “We’re partners,” he admitted. 
 “I’m just trying to get caught up on what she’s doing.”  He tried 
to turn the conversation back to North.  “You were the man in 
charge, right?  All of the souls there that were there that night 
answered to you?”

	North jutted his jaw out a little more.  “I still am the man 
in charge,” he said.  “You’re not taking over my team.”

	“Right,” Stone nodded.  “Your team.  The ambush outside, was 
that your idea, or Ash’s?”  North stared at him.  “There were six 
guys waiting outside for me if I tried to run off.”

	“How did you know that?”

	Stone grinned.  The Devil had told him about the ambush on 
that night almost two months ago.  No need to admit that to North. 
 “I’ve got powers too, you know.  I can sense others like us,” he 
lied.  This was the bait, a big juicy worm.

	“No, you can’t,” sneered North.

	“Sure I can,” Stone replied.  He jiggled the lure a little. 
 “How do you think I found Atom’s room?  I just walked up and down 
the halls until I felt him.”

	North fell silent, considering.  

	Stone saw the time was right.  “Here comes one now,” he 
said.  

	North bit.  He turned to look, ignoring what he knew about 
Hellish abilities.  And Stone showed him the hook in that nice 
juicy worm, a right hook that caught him at the base on the neck. 
 North went down, and Stone ran past him, heading for Ash’s room. 

	

ACT THREE

		

	Rosalyn Stone and her fiancé Dan Copper sat on the couch at 
his house.  Dan’s son was out for the evening, off with his 
friends ringing in the New Year.  He’d offered congratulations to 
the couple before he‘d left, seeming pleased with his father’s 
choice for a stepmother.  

	“Getting nervous?” Dan asked playfully.  “In a few hours 
you’ll be Rosalyn Ann King Stone Copper.”

	She smiled back.  “I’m not writing all that on the board 
before every class.”

	Dan glanced at the clock.  “Did you want to stay and watch 
the ball drop before we leave?  We’ll have time.”  

	“If you don’t mind.  It just doesn’t seem like New Year’s 
Eve without watching the ball drop.”

	“Sure.”  He settled back onto the couch and began to flip 
channels.  

	“I’ll be right back.”  Rosalyn got up and went upstairs to 
their bedroom.  She could use the phone there without being 
overheard.  She did love Dan, but she wanted to make one phone 
call before marrying him.  “Room 432,” she said when the 
connection was made.  It was Zeke’s room at the Hotel Irondell.

	“I’m sorry,” came the response, “but there’s no one staying 
in that room.”

	There was silence for a moment, then she asked, “Did he 
check out?”

	“Who?”

	“Never mind.  Thank you.”  Rosalyn hung up.  Ezekiel Stone 
was lost to her again.

	
		 


	Kane began to breathe a little easier.  Traffic was light, 
the weather was good, and he was making good time.  He’d called 
his parents, told them that he loved them, without going into 
detail about his situation.  Most of his friends were unavailable, 
so close to midnight, but he’d left messages for several.  The 
battery on the phone had finally died, and there was no one left 
to talk to, to one else to make his peace with.

	Except for one being.

	“God,” he said hesitantly.  “I know I haven’t been the best 
Christian.  I don’t go to church, I don’t tithe, and I don’t pray. 
 I do believe in you, you know that.”

	He changed lanes.  The wind whistled through the hole in his 
floorboard, where his gun had accidentally punctured his vehicle. 
 He was starving, and he wondered about the pop-tarts that he 
usually kept in the glove compartment.  

	“I’ve tried to lead a good life,” he continued.  “I tried to 
help Ezekiel Stone, even though he doesn’t exactly work for you, 
he works for  - well, you know who.  Although, I guess he quit 
tonight, so I don’t know how it all works.  Anyway, I just wanted 
to talk to you.

	“God, I’m afraid of how it’s going to end for me.  I don’t 
want to hurt anyone.  What that man did to me... I don’t know. 
 I’m asking, will you help me get away from people before I go?  I 
know, suicide is a sin, but I’m really going to try to get into 
the middle of nowhere and end things.  Not because I want to die. 
 Because I want to protect people.  That’s how I’ve lived my life, 
and that’s how I want it to end.”

	Kane paused for a moment.  As he gathered his thoughts, he 
reached into his glove compartment, searching for nourishment.  He 
fingers fell onto the familiar foil wrapped package.  This could 
be his last meal before he met his maker.  The strawberry poptarts 
weren’t exactly the proper meal for communion, but it was the 
closest that he could manage.  At least they were unfrosted.  

	As he tore into the packet, he framed his next words.  “I’ve 
done a few things I’m not proud of.  There are some things that 
I’d like to get off my chest before I go.  There was the Christmas 
party three years ago, where I got drunk and groped David’s wife. 
 I’ve felt bad about it, but I never apologized to her.  Or to 
him.”

	Behind him, red and blue lights flashed.  His eyes flicked 
to the rearview mirror.  He was being pulled over.

		

	

	Ash was waiting when Marcus Atom returned to room 532.  She 
was seated at the table, emptying bags of party favors into three 
bowls.  “Marcus,” she said, “Come on in.”

	“You wanted to see me?” he asked.  

	“Change of plans,” she said.  “We’re going to go ahead and 
try for a second jailbreak.”  

	Atom seated himself across from her.  He fished a party 
favor out of one of the bowls.  It was in the shape of a bottle, 
with a string coming out of it.  He pulled the cord, and a small 
cloud of confetti burst into the air.  “Cute,” he said

	“Very,” she replied.  “Here’s what I need.  I want you to 
turn these into detonators.  I’ll have a couple of men here in a 
minute to take them around Times Square.  Instead of one big bang, 
we’re going to go for lots of not-so-little ones.”  

	“Then what?” Atom asked.  He began to remove his gloves.  

	“You might need to lay low for a while.  That cop knows who 
you are, and what you look like.  We’ve got a cabin upstate that 
you could use.  Did you and Lizzy get along?”  Atom nodded.  “I’ll 
send her along with you, if you’d like.  You’re going to be very 
important in my army, Marcus.”

	Marcus dipped his bare hand into the first bowl.  He swirled 
it around, trying to make contact with each party favor.  Ash 
watched closely.  The multicolored party favors seemed to gain a 
gray tint, as if their contact with an undead soul had sucked away 
their very color.  

	“We’re going to change the world,” Ash said softly.  “Novak 
is waiting on the other side.  If Old Scratch hasn’t found our 
escape route, he’ll lead millions of souls back to earth.  All 
we’ve got to do is confuse things, create chaos.”

	“And I get Lizzy?” Atom asked.

	“She’ll be all yours,” Ash promised.

	Ezekiel Stone entered the room.  His gun was drawn, and the 
expression on his face was disappointed.  “Lucy,” he said, “I’m 
home.”

	She recognized his voice even before she looked up.  “Zeke. 
 You shouldn’t have come back yet.”

	“Thought we had a deal?”

	“Plans change.  You know that.”

	“I can’t let you do this,” he said.  He raised his gun, 
aiming for her eyes.  “I’m sorry.”

	“Ah, well,” she said calmly, holding his gaze.  “It was good 
while it lasted.  So long, Ezekiel.”

	Ash nodded to North Ratare, who was standing behind Ezekiel 
Stone holding a meter long steel pipe.  At her signal, he clubbed 
Stone in the head.

	

		

	Officer Clark Duncan got out of his squad car, the lights 
still flashing.  He held his ticket book in one hand, and his 
flashlight in the other.  The driver of the car appeared to be 
alone, and was a white male.  He approached the driver’s window.  
“License and registration,” he demanded.  He pointed his 
flashlight at Kane’s face.

	Kane had the window cracked a half dozen centimeters, a 
reasonable precaution against the wind and cold.  He held up his 
badge.   “Good evening, Officer Duncan.  I’m NYPD.”

	Duncan grinned a little as he looked down on the man in the 
car.  He was a black man, well over six feet tall.  Last year, 
he’d been pulled over in New York by a white cop for no reason.  
He’d shown his badge, but had been given a ticket anyway for going 
seven miles over the speed limit.  Here was a chance to give a 
little payback to the NYPD.

	“You know how fast you were going?” Duncan demanded.  
Without waiting for an answer, he continued, “Let me see your 
license.”  

	Kane held it out.  “Here,” he said.  

	“Registration?”  Kane turned and began to dig through his 
papers.  Duncan scanned the license - William Kane, born February 
26th, 1966.  Something was wrong, however.  “Why is this so hot?”

	“What?” Kane asked.  “Damn.  Get rid of it, now!”

	“Excuse me?” Duncan said.  The laminated card was really 
quite warm now, and he held it by the edges.  

	Duncan found himself staring at the barrel of a gun.  “I’m 
not kidding,” Kane threatened.  “Toss it into the road, now, or 
you’re going to die.”

	“What?”

	“Three,” Kane counted, “Two.“ Duncan complied, flicking the 
card into the wind.  Kane watched it go, his gun still pointed out 
the window.  Duncan dived to the ground, out of the line of fire.  

	Boom!  There was an explosion behind him, about as forceful 
as a stick of dynamite.  Duncan found himself pressed against the 
ground by a wave of hot air.  “What the hell?”

	The car engine started, and Duncan rolled out of the way 
just before it pulled back onto the road.  He scrambled to his 
feet and raced back to his own vehicle.  He flipped the sirens 
back on and floored the engine.  At the same time, he got on the 
radio and gave a description of the vehicle and the suspect.  

	Backup was dispatched.  

		

	

	“Damn,” Stone muttered.  He lay on the carpeted floor of the 
hotel room, holding his head.  North Ratare stood over him, 
holding the steel pipe and grinning.  Marcus Atom was seated at 
the table with Ash, putting his gloves back on now the third bowl 
of party favors had been transformed.

	“I’m sorry, Zeke,” Ash told him, rising gracefully.  North 
swung the pipe again, catching Stone in the jaw.  “I really am.”  
North arced the rod over his head, landing a blow to Stone’s 
midsection.  “I guess I should be grateful we even lasted two 
hours together,” Ash said.

	Stone looked up at her.  Again, he found himself remembering 
Sally Ann McGee, the way that she had so casually spoken to him at 
the pumping station.  She’d been so convinced that he was beaten, 
until that moment he’d fired the shot that hit her flask, sending 
shattered pieces into her eyes.  Then she’d screamed like all the 
others.

	North circled around Stone, twirling his weapon.  “I can 
take him out now, right?” he asked impatiently.  

	Ash raised her hand, signaling him to halt.  “Take the 
explosives and go.  Now.  Time is short.”

	“But,” North said, frustrated.  “All right.”  Ezekiel Stone 
squirmed on his back, in pain from his beating.  North found 
himself unable to resist a parting shot.  He drew back with the 
steel pipe, aiming an attack at Ezekiel’s neck.  The rod sliced 
through the air.

	Ezekiel Stone raised his left hand to intercept it.  A half 
meter above his head, he made contact, and halted the decent.   He 
gripped it tightly for a moment before the pipe collapsed, molten 
steel dripping out from his fist.

	Stone found himself holding the smaller end of the pipe in 
his right hand as North wrenched the remainder away from him.  
Stone rolled to his feet as North backed up a few steps to 
regroup.  “Thanks, Ash,” Stone said, appreciative of the new 
skills she had taught him.  

	The two men parried for a moment.  Stone grinned, oblivious 
of the steaming holes in his cheeks where the liquid steel had 
fallen on him.  North spoke, “Neat trick.”

	Stone ignored him.  With a flick of his wrist, he launched 
his piece of pipe at North.  It caught him in the left eye, molten 
end first.  North dropped his own weapon, yelling out as the ether 
light burst from the socket.  He jerked his head sharply, and 
centrifugal force pulled Stone’s projectile free, gravity sucking 
it down to the carpet where it began to smolder.

	During this exchange, Ash had moved around behind Stone.  
She struck now, wrapping her arms around him, pinning his own arms 
to his side.  North stopped screaming when he saw his opponent was 
immobilized.  

	A silence fell over the room.  Marcus Atom was the first to 
speak.  “Maybe I should go,” he said.  

	Everyone ignored him.  “North,” Ash repeated, “Take the 
explosives and leave.”

	“Okay,” he said, glaring at Stone with his good eye.  He 
stacked one bowl on top of a second and picked them up with his 
only hand, his left.  “My eye will heal, right?” he asked Ash.

	“Now!” she ordered.  “You’re going to miss the countdown, 
and if you don’t get there before the crowd disperses, I’m going 
to be pissed.”

	“Okay, okay,” North said, holding the two bowls against his 
body as he hurried out of the door.  Blue light still flowed from 
his eye, and it trailed behind him.  

	When he was gone, Ash released her hold on Ezekiel.  “You 
can still catch him, if you hurry,” she said.  “Go on.”

	Stone turned to face her.  “What game are you playing?  Why 
would you want me to go after him, while he’s wounded?  
Something’s not right.”

	“You know you can’t beat me, Zeke,” she chided.  “Against 
him, you at least have a chance.”

	“Ash,” he said, “we can do anything we put our minds too, 
right?  I think we can beat you.”

	“We?” Ash asked.  “Who’s we?  Do you have a mouse in your 
pocket?”

	“Actually,” Stone said, reaching into his coat.  “I do.”  He 
opened his hand, revealing the brown mouse that he had found in 
Atom’s room.  “A living creature that can stop you right now.”  He 
tossed the mouse into the air.  Its paws flailed wildly as it 
fell, landing in the center of the table, right on the remaining 
bowl of detonators.

	A puff of smoke rose as the atomic reaction was triggered.



ACT FOUR



	Moments earlier, in the crowd below, a group of new 
acquaintances were waiting for the Ball to begin dropping.  Chris, 
partly inspired by excessive consumption of libations, was leading 
the group in an a cappella rendition of many classic songs.  The 
new music that was popular with most of the revelers did not lend 
itself to memorization and public singing, so most of the tunes 
were short simple ones that everyone present had heard.  

	“The weather started getting rough, the tiny ship was 
tossed.  If not for the courage of the fearless crew, the Minnow 
would be lost.  The Minnow would be lost.”  Everyone pointed at 
Marianne when her name appeared in the song.

	An eighth person had joined their little group; Kevin was a 
short man in his early thirties.  With his ragged beard and ratty 
appearance, he would not have been out of place panhandling on a 
street corner.  But he was friendly enough, even if a little odd, 
and when he led the group in the Brady Bunch theme everyone joined 
in.  

	“Think there’ll be riots and looting?” Tony wondered aloud 
when the singing died down.

	“I’d loot me a television set,” Chris said.  “A big one, 
like 60 inches.”

	“Yeah, right,” Steve said.  “I can just see you trying to 
carry that home on the subway.”  He mimicked a man struggling 
under a heavy weight.   Everyone laughed.

	“Just, no karaoke machine for you, Chris,” Bonnie pleaded 
jokingly.  

	“Hey,” Chris protested drunkenly, swaying slightly.  “Look, 
bubbles!”  Bonnie turned, and Chris laughed, “Made you look!”

	“I’d be afraid of getting trampled on, if somebody started a 
riot,” Paula said.

	“Climb a lamppost,” Marianne suggested.  

	“There’s not going to be any rioting,” Barry said firmly.  
“Why do you think all those cops are standing around here?”  It 
was true; the police presence was so great as to be oppressive.  
“They’ll shut down anybody who gets out of hand.”

	“Yeah,” Steve agreed.  “When the three of us were walking 
around earlier, there was an army of cops on every corner.”

	“Hey,” Kevin said, “There goes the ball!  Here we go!”

	It was one minute to midnight, and the infamous ball, lit 
brighter than ever before, began to drop.

			

		

	Kane counted three sets of lights in his rearview mirror.  
He was doing about one hundred down the two lane highway, passing 
cars where he could.  He tried to think of a way out of the 
situation.

	More flashing lights appeared in front of him, about a 
kilometer ahead on the road.  They had gotten in front of him and 
set up a roadblock.  Two police cars, noses pointed toward him, 
barricaded the road.  He slowed to fifty, trying to think.  

	In the reflected light from the flashers, he spotted two men 
kneeling behind their cars.  Their guns were aimed in his 
direction.  He was surrounded.

	Desperately, he yanked the wheel to the left and went off 
the road.  His car plunged into the ditch that ran parallel with 
the paved surface.  Kane slammed into the steering wheel and 
bounced back.  Behind him, he heard the sirens draw to a stop.  

	Kane opened his car door and bolted.  There was a short 
fence on the other side of the ditch, and he managed to climb over 
it quickly.  “Freeze!” came a voice close behind him.  

	Kane ignored it, running as if the life of everyone there 
depended on it.

	

	

	Millions of pulse rates quickened as the ball got closer and 
closer to the bottom of the pole.  Most of the millions who 
witnessed this event, either in person or on a television screen, 
had the same thought.  This is it; New Years Eve, 1999.  I’ll 
always remember where I was at this moment.

	The crowd chanted, “Ten!”

		

	

	Atom slapped at the mouse in front of him just after the 
reaction was triggered.  The rodent hopped off the bowl, and ran 
towards him.  Atom stood and flipped the table using his undead 
strength.  It jumped into the air, scattering the triggered 
explosives everywhere across the room.  

	“What did you just do?” Ash screamed.  “Are you crazy?”

	“You want to bring Hell to earth?” Stone challenged, 
standing tall, “Let’s start with this room.” 

		

	

	At each street corner in Times Square, the police looked a 
little more alert.  They were ready for anything.  

	“Nine!” screamed the crowd.

	

	

	Kane ran through the open field, his legs pounding 
furiously.   He felt as though this were the fastest he had ever 
moved in his life.  Each of his senses was working at peak 
efficiency.  He absorbed the impact of each step with pleasure, 
feeling the earth beneath his feet.  The night smell was sweet in 
the air; the coldness of if burned his lungs.  Each sensation was 
wonderful, because it could be his last.

	His ears were full of pounding footsteps, but he couldn’t 
tell if they belonged to him or to his pursuers.  The need to know 
was overwhelming, and he turned to look while he continued to run.

	He slipped and fell, but not before seeing they were right 
behind him.

		

		

	“Eight!” If a riot starts, Tony mused, I’m going to join in.




	
	Stone looked to see where his gun had fallen.  He spotted it 
on the floor, halfway across the room.  Atom was muttering under 
his breath, “No.  No.  Not again,” as he stared at the detonators 
surrounding him that he had created.   

	Sally Ann McGee had had a similar talent for crossing her 
Hellish abilities with the world of the living, Stone thought as 
he ran, then dove for his gun.  She’d infected him with a hellish 
version of the typhoid that she had carried while alive.  Only 
after he’d sent her back did the germs revert to normal.  

	He managed to get a hand on his gun; Ash kicked it away.  
“You son of a bitch, Zeke,” she yelled.  “I can’t believe you’d do 
this to me.”

	Stone jumped to his feet, facing her.  “Believe it.”

	

		

	“Seven!”  If terrorists strike, Steve imagined, people will 
be sorry that I’m dead.

		

		

	Kane stumbled to his feet, his hands splayed out for 
balance.  Two officers were just meters away, already shouting.  
Clark Duncan was one of them, yelling, “Freeze!”

	Kane knew that running was futile, and he thrust his hands 
out towards them, hoping to ward them off.  “Don’t touch me!  
Don’t touch me!”

	Duncan halted, pulling his gun and training it on Kane.  
“Get down on the ground!  Get down!” he screamed.  

	Kane’s eyes were wide with terror.  “Just stay back,” he 
pleaded.  “Don’t touch me!”

		

		

	“Six!”  I am so drunk, Chris thought to himself.

		

		

	Stone tackled Ash, pinning her to the ground.  “This is what 
you want, right?  You and me together again?”

	“Zeke, we’ve got to get out of here!”

	“The Devil is calling your name, Ash.  Can you hear him?”

	

		

	“Five!”  What if the lights go out? Bonnie worried.

		

	

	“Get on the ground!” Duncan insisted.  “Put your hands on 
your head!”

	“I’ve got a bomb,” Kane said, “If you touch me it’ll 
explode.”

	“Hell with this,” Duncan muttered.  He tackled Kane, 
knocking him to the ground.  

	“No!  No!” Kane screamed.

		

	

	“Four!”  Oh Jesus, Paula prayed, please take me into heaven 
with you.

	

		

	Ash kicked up with her legs, launching Zeke up and over her. 
 She jumped to her feet, and ran full tilt to the window 
overlooking Times Square.  The glass shattered as she crashed 
through it, falling unharmed five stories to the ground below.  

	Stone found himself in the corner of the room.  Atom stood 
in the center of the room, still staring at the death and 
destruction surrounding him.  His gun was nowhere nearby now.  
Looking around, he spotted the pitchfork that the Devil had 
attacked him with.  Time was running out.

	

	

	“Three!”  This is the biggest party I will ever attend, 
Marianne speculated.

	

		

	“Get away from me!  I’m going to explode!” Kane yelled.  

	There were five officers there now, all surrounding him.  
“That guy’s crazy,” one said to his partner as Clark Duncan forced 
handcuffs onto Kane.  

	Kane continued to scream.  “Run!  Get away!” 

	“I take it he waives the right to remain silent,” his 
partner responded.

		

	

	“Two!”  I hope the banks forget how much money I owe them, 
Barry thought.

	

	

	There was no time to cross the room, so Stone hurled the 
pitchfork like a javelin.  The center tines caught Atom in the 
eyes.  The pitchfork continued all the way through Atom’s head and 
imbedded itself in the opposite wall.  The top of his skull 
flipped open, and a gigantic burst of blue light exploded from his 
brain cavity.  

	Atom began to scream, a horrific sound.  Stone watched the 
escaping life force erupt from his head.  He tried to think back 
to Sally Ann McGee, and how quickly her infection had left him 
after she had been dispatched.  It had only been a few seconds, he 
recalled.   Was there enough time?

	

	

	“One!”  This is it, Kevin thought, it’s finally here!

		

	

	Duncan pulled the hysterical Kane to his feet, and shoved 
him back in the direction of the road.  “Come on, move it!”

	“You’ve got to believe me,” Kane pleaded.  “We’re all going 
to die!”

	“Damn,” said one of the officers.  “This guy’s burning up.  
Feel how hot he is?”

	Duncan grimaced as he made the connection between the 
driver’s license and Kane’s statements. “Uh, guys?”

		

		

	“Happy New Year!”

	It was anti-climactic.  Absolutely nothing happened.  After 
all the hope and fears, speculation and preparation, nothing 
extraordinary occurred.  The lights stayed on, Jesus did not 
return, the crowd began to disperse.  There were no explosions.  

	Kevin, Barry, and Marianne disappeared into the crowd with a 
friendly wave.  Tony gave Bonnie a kiss on the cheek as they said 
their good-byes.  Then the men headed off, leaving Paula and 
Bonnie behind.

	“What a night,” Paula said.

	“Yeah,” Bonnie agreed.  “Let’s come back in 2099 too.”

	“Deal,” Paula replied.

	  


	
	The roar of the crowd reached him through the Ash shaped 
hole in the glass.  “Happy New Year,” Stone muttered, his eyes 
glued a green party favor in the floor in front of him.  

	The burning sensation struck him, and he winced as Atom’s 
tattoo burned away.  Even with his questionable status as hunter, 
Atom’s name had been removed from the list of escapees.   

	Seconds passed, and nothing happened.   The colors on the 
floor seemed brighter now, sharper, more alive.  Stone grinned.  
He’d saved a million lives tonight, and that was something to be 
proud of, even if it had cost him his chance for redemption.  
Wherever he went from here, it was certainly a new beginning.

		  

		

	“No!” Kane screamed.  

	“What?” replied an officer, placing a bare hand on Kane‘s 
shoulder.  “He doesn’t feel hot to me.”

	Kane fell silent.  “What?” he asked.  “I’m not...“  Seconds 
ticked by.  “Hey.  Hey!  It’s over!”  The officers exchanged 
glances.  “I must be a dud or something!”  

	He laughed hysterically as they dragged him away.




EPILOGUE

	It was almost three am, and the streets of New York City had 
cleared, at least the parts of lower Manhattan that Ezekiel Stone 
found himself walking through.  His mind, however, was crowded 
with thoughts of the events from the night.  

	Somehow, in the last two days, his planned second chance at 
life had fallen apart.  He’d betrayed the Devil, and had been 
betrayed himself by two women - Ash and Roz.  But his mind, as it 
is oft to do in late hours of the night, speculated that those 
relationships had failed because of his actions.  

	He could have approached Rosalyn.  If she’d found someone 
else in the last nine months, since things had ended with Barry 
Cenzia, it was his own fault for not letting her know that he was 
back.  

	Could things have been different with Ash?  He felt a 
connection with her, a strong one that nearly rivaled his bond 
with Rosalyn.  He’d hoped that things would work out with them, 
that he could have tempered her rage against God.  But her 
obsession was overwhelming.  She’d lied to him, and planned the 
deaths of millions.  It was an insurmountable obstacle.  

	A weaving car on the road caught his attention.  It was a 
hearse, painted jet black.  It was the only car visible on the 
street here in Manhattan.  The driver must be drunk, Stone 
decided, because it pendulumed back and forth over the double 
yellow line.  It gained speed, and its destination became clear; 
it was headed right for him.

	He jumped out of the way, but the driver had anticipated the 
move and allowed for it.  The hearse hit him, knocking him up onto 
the hood before he tumbled and rolled onto the sidewalk.  The pain 
struck him immediately.  As he came to a stop on the concrete, his 
head hanging off into the gutter, the motor revved again.  The car 
rolled forward, over his right arm, up onto his ribcage before he 
could move.

	The Devil had promised to send every resource against him.  
The pain made it quite clear that another supernatural creature 
was behind this attack.  Stone fumbled to dig out his gun, but 
couldn’t reach it.  This could be bad.

	The right front tire had stopped on his chest.  The engine 
quit, and he heard the driver’s door open.  “Do I have your 
attention, Mr. Stone?” a voice demanded.  

	“You can’t send me back,” Stone whispered.  “It’s 
forbidden.”

	“Yes,” the Devil said regretfully, “I know. My request to 
replace you was also denied.”  He towered above Stone, who was 
trying to lift the hearse.  “The man upstairs insists that you 
didn’t really quit your job.  Something about mitigating 
circumstances.  So, it appears that we’re stuck with each other.”

	“Wonderful.”

	“I couldn’t help but notice you’re still wearing Ash’s 
tattoo.”

	“But not Atom’s,” Stone wheezed.  “Could you move the car?”

	“Yes,” the Devil said, without moving from his position, “I 
could.  First, I want you to repeat your resignation.”  He glanced 
heavenward.  “Maybe He’ll be listening this time.”

	“I’m not quitting.”

	“Be a good sport, Mr. Stone.  I really don’t see any reason 
for us to continue together if you’re not happy.  I have several 
candidates lined up fill your position.”

	Stone grunted, still trying to lift the car.  “I want a 
second chance at life.”

	“Hmm.  I don’t like you, Ezekiel, and you don’t like me,” 
the Devil said.  He hopped up onto the hood of the car, adding his 
weight to the mass pressing down on Ezekiel’s chest.  
“Unfortunately, I have to give you a second chance at your second 
chance.”  The Devil considered briefly.  “Let me clarify that.  
This is your FINAL chance at life.  If, that is, you’re asking for 
your job back?”

	Stone groaned.  “Okay.”

	“Say it,” the Devil demanded.

	“I’m asking for my job back,” Stone repeated.

	“Very well, Mr. Stone.  We’ll chalk up your lapse to 
temporary insanity.  Your wife’s marriage really is bothering you, 
isn’t it?”  The Devil pulled a pocket watch out and looked at it. 
 “It’s almost midnight in California.  Any second now, she’ll be 
promising her life to someone else.”  Stone said nothing, so the 
Devil continued, “It’s better than anything I could have dreamed 
up for you, because you know it’s real this time.  Rosalyn has 
moved on, Ezekiel.” The Devil smiled a malevolent smile.  “You’ll 
never get her back.”

	The Devil jumped down from the hood of the hearse, managing 
to land in an icy puddle and splash slush over the pinned Ezekiel 
Stone.   Without looking back, he sauntered away into the darkness 
of the night.  

		

		

	“Why hasn’t my eye healed?” North whined.  He was wearing an 
eye patch, and he pressed it firmly to his eye socket.  

	Ash shrugged.  “I don’t know.  It might heal in the morning. 
 My guess would be that some of the molten iron was lodged in the 
socket.”

	“It hurts,” North complained.  “Can’t you help me?”

	“Of course I can,” she said.  “But I think this should be an 
object lesson for you.”  She glared at him.  “Next time, follow my 
orders exactly.”

	“I’m going to kill that son of a bitch,” North muttered.

	“No,” Ash corrected, “you’re not.  Don’t make the same 
mistake Novak did.”  She raised a hand, two fingers extended, a 
motion reminiscent of the gesture she had made before causing 
Novak’s eyes to explode.  “Are we clear?”

	“I don’t suppose you’d tell me why?  You lost him when you 
planned to destroy his precious city.  He won’t come back to you 
again.”

	Ash smiled gently.  “He might.  But, just this once, I’ll 
explain my orders to you.  I’m pregnant.”

	North goggled.

	“With his child, obviously.  Reinforcements would have been 
nice, North, but this child is even more important.”  Ash dropped 
her hand to caress her womb.  “What happened when you threw the 
detonators out into the crowd?”  

	North scowled.  “Nothing.”

	“Exactly.  Because Atom had already been sent back.  
Anything he’d affected reverted to normal.”  She paused.  “I don’t 
need a normal child, North.  If you destroy Stone, what happens to 
our offspring?”

	“I don’t know.”

	“Neither do I.  Nothing like this has ever happened before. 
 So follow my orders, and don’t risk messing this up for me.  
We’re going to lay low, and leave him alone.  For now.”

		

		

	In Dodger Stadium, Rosalyn Stone held Dan’s hand as they 
repeated the minister’s words.  1999 had been a very strange year, 
but this was a new beginning for her.  

	“I now pronounce you man and wife,” the minister intoned.

	Rosalyn Copper leaned to kiss her husband. 


THE END