“We stand here at the hour of judgment and beg for God’s forgiveness. Forgive us, Dear Lord! Not for what we have done, but for what we must now do. We cannot allow the Devil to corrupt our souls!”
–Father Elijah Campbell. Larkspur, Colorado. 20 Days After.
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This wasn’t going to get any easier.
Elysium was a celebration of pure debauchery that never slept, never rested, and never slowed. Even this late at night, there was a line that stretched around the block, as most workers would spend weeks at a time saving pics just to grace its halls for a few short hours. Leah found her place among their ranks, waiting patiently for her own time to come.
It wasn’t long before one of the guards spotted her in the crowd and came her way.
He pointed. “You. You’re up.”
Those in front began to hiss, and Leah shrugged. “Seems a lot of others got here first. I don’t mind waiting.”
“The boss won’t.”
Shit. That was never a good sign. Wordless, Leah stepped by the others and entered Elysium.
The graffiti-laced walls were all too familiar, and the mix of EDM, metal, and rock vibrating throughout the lobby brought back memories of days best forgotten. How many wonderful moments had she sacrificed to gain some pleasure here?
The moans of patrons in the throes of Lust built as Leah passed one of the chambers. There was no rival greater than Lust that could bring rezzers closer to capturing the carnal indulgence that living humans had once known. Leah would be a liar if she claimed that she wasn’t tempted into abandoning all else to enter one of those rooms. The lure was that strong.
But she couldn’t. Leah knew better than anyone how deleterious the Sins of Elysium were to the strength of a Rez, and there were much more important matters at hand than to sate hedonistic wants.
Leah went through the halls in silence, her only focus the meeting she had no choice in attending.
Hades sat atop his throne. His shriveled visage narrowed on Leah the moment she entered, and he waved off a troupe of workers that were attending his every need. He grinned wide, which would have been more intimidating had his outfit not betrayed the seriousness of his position. A white-and-red felt cloak was thrown over his back, a paper crown had been placed on his hairless scalp, and he carried a plastic scepter in one hand.
He looked ridiculous, but that was where the power and advantage came from. Beneath the flamboyant, desiccated rezzer was the warlord who had shattered every monument of the old world and rebuilt it into his own image. Everything, from Pandemonium, to the social structure they lived under, to the power and food supply, to the very currency they had developed, all had their roots back to him.
There was no one more dangerous.
Hades steepled his gloved hands. “Well, if it isn’t Pandemonium’s best, Leah.”
“Interesting get-up, Your Excellence,” Leah hailed with just the right emphasis to border between acknowledgment and arrogance. Hades valued boldness above all else.
He beamed. “Like it, huh? Some Hunters found it inside one of those restaurant franchises out East. I’m ‘King of the Burgers’, or something.”
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“You’re king of something, that’s for sure.”
“What do you think the lettuce should be?”
Leah paused to consider the riddle. If there was anyone who enjoyed baiting people into frivolous debate more than Mastermind, it was Hades. Problem was that failing his tests usually meant losing a limb.
“Afraid you’ve lost me on this one,” she said.
Hades began to pace around the pit. “Y’know what I like most about this outfit? It got me thinking about burgers. You ever have one, Leah?”
“Can’t say that I have.”
“I guess none of us can, what with our current predicament and all.” He swung the plastic scepter over his shoulder. “That’s why I’m thinking it’s time to change that. I’m gonna throw together a big ‘ole barbecue.” He leaned back and winked. “Sans the grill, of course. Everyone will be talking about it, from the biggest boss to the dreariest dreg, and they’re all gonna be saying the same thing, about how Lord Hades whipped up the best fucking burger this side of the Mississippi. A perfectly juicy, delicious, post-apocalyptic snack, the likes of which no one has ever seen! And you can bet your sweet ass I’m gonna use nothing but the best ingredients.”
He went back to his patrol. “You see, most of it, I’ve got figured out already. The bread? Easy. Some thick cow-skin wrapped around fat. Perfect consistency, and it’ll be nice and greasy like the real deal. I’ll season the bun with some ground bone too. Everyone loves bone. You know what they say, calcium’s good for the soul. Then there’s ketchup. Another layup! I’ll just use blood. O-negative, maybe. Think we still have some in storage. Cheese though? That was a little tricky, but I put my noggin to the task and I figured it out…”
Leah crossed her arms. “You going anywhere with this?” She had a feeling she’d go hollow well before he made his point.
But Hades kept walking as if he hadn’t heard. “Pus! Good choice, right? Haven’t had a glaze of pus with a meal in quite a while, and if there ever was a substitute for cheese, it’d be pus. Hard to get in large quantities, but that’s where Hunters like yourself come in handy.”
Before Leah could speak, Hades waved her off. “Now the tomatoes, that was a fun one. How the hell do you get the texture of tomatoes while still retaining its juiciness? But then I remembered. Eyes. Salmon eyes, to be specific, gouged and tossed onto the bun. You’ll feel the crunch with each bite. Onions? Don’t want to bore you, but I’m just going cartilage, diced into little bits. I know, I know. Not all that fancy, but it’s a good complement to any meal.” He laughed. “You’ll love the pickles though. Way I figure it, you’d want something that goes well embalmed. That’s the deal with pickles, right? So it’s gotta be fresh intestines, doused in lard. Who wouldn’t want that?”
He gave his plastic scepter another spin. “Of course, this has landed me where I am now. I’ve got my shopping cart stocked and ready to go. I’m just missing a worthy substitute for lettuce. What do you think I should do?”
Again Leah sat in silence a moment. Hades was going somewhere with this, and if history was repeating itself – which it most certainly was – the longer he went on, the worse of a spot they’d end in. If she didn’t play along now, hollowing would be the least of her worries.
“Mammary glands, sliced thin,” Leah decided. “Most rezzers have never had an udder ripped from a cow, and if they had, they’d probably been gorging too hard to notice its flavor. Sweet and fresh, like you’re eating a newborn baby without going through the hassle.”
Hades nodded to the revelation. “Not bad. Not fucking bad at all. See? That’s what I love about you, Leah. You’ve got the mind for this kinda thing.
“I guess that wraps it up. I’ve got a recipe for the burger of a century, and there isn’t a single thing missing. Yep, nothing at all.”
He paused and watched her, his scarlet eyes probing deep.
Leah cleared her throat. Here it comes. “But surely, Your Excellence, you’ve forgotten the most important part. You can’t have a proper burger without the patty.”
“Well, isn’t that obvious? I’ll eat the best that pics can buy. The crème de la crème of undead culinary options, double-decked by the hemisphere between my masterpiece meal.” He gleamed. “Living human brain, carved straight from the skull.”
There it is. No use hiding, or pretending that she had no idea what he was talking about.
“How much?” Leah asked.
His mouth gaped. “I go through all that… That work of fucking art, and the only thing you have to say to me is ‘how much?’ Fucking insulting! You know how much of that whole bit I was free-wheeling? Just about all of it, I’ll have you know, and in the end, I bullshitted a pretty bitchin’ burger too.”
He had, and Leah’s tongue salivated to the thought. But food was food, and business was business.
Win or lose. Live or die. It all depended on how she played this exchange next.