"Excuse me," I ducked under the bus stop. "You do know the bus doesn't run this late, right?"

The girl standing there turned to look at me. She was wearing a bright yellow raincoat with equally bright purple galoshes, and kept her umbrella open despite having the bus stop's roof to keep her dry.

"Really?" She tried to check her watch, but didn't seem to have that much luck in pulling her sleeve back with the giant plastic bag in her hand and the giant purple umbrella in her other. I checked mine for her.

"Not down here, at least. The closest line still running is over on Fifth and Market." I took a second to warm my hands. "That's like a good thirty minute walk."

It was really coming down. It'd been raining for three days now, and it didn't look like it was going to let up any time soon.

"In this weather?" She made a face that looked like she was thinking extra hard, but didn't really like the fact that she had to.

"Did you need to get somewhere?" I asked.

"Just home," she said. "Not that I have to, I mean, it's just that it'd be nicer than standing out here."

"Yeah, I know what you mean," I said. "I'm parked in the structure over at the LV, did you need a ride?"

"My mommy said to never ride with strangers."

I looked at her for a second. I knew she was joking, but I couldn't think of a witty reply to that.

"Unless you had some candy to give me if I helped you find your lost dog," she laughed.

Yeah, that'd work.

She leaned out of the bus stop and looked down the street, just to make sure the bus really wasn't coming. The rain caught her umbrella as soon as it left cover. It looked like it caught her off-guard for a second before she could hold on tighter. She shuffled her feet to find to balance, then turned to me.

"So, you coming, or do I have to find your car for you?"

"I dunno," I said. "I don't have the cash to pay tip."

She looked at me for a second. I don't know if the joke was too opaque, or if she was just stuck in the same situation I was.

"Like you're a valet," I said.

"Oh!" She half-laughed. Mostly out of politeness.

"It's...sorry," I decided to admire the metalwork on the bench instead. I don't think I've ever seen anybody sit down on this. Probably because it'd collapse under the weight of any decently sized human being. "That was a terrible joke."

"Well, it wasn't that terrible," she said. "What are you, the Terrible Joke police?"

"I'm...what?"

"Hands up, you're under arrest" she said, pointing her imaginary gun at me.  "TJPD."
I looked at her until she stopped pointing at me.

"See? That's a terrible joke."

"That's not even a joke," I said, trying to find words that would work.  "That's...that's just, you know. Not a joke."

"Exactly," she said. "Terrible."

"I mean, you could've said, I don't know, that I'm not the PR guy for Terrible Joke Inc," I said.  "That'd make a little more sense."

"Yeah, but then it wouldn't be such a terrible joke, would it?"

I was about to agree with a, "Sure, I guess," or something when she cut me off.
"So are we going?" She held her umbrella out for me.

"I'm fine," I said. "It's just water."

"What about your bag?"

"What about yours?"

"It can fit. See?" She demonstrated her uncanny ability to keep her arm under an umbrella. And her twice as uncanny ability to make everything I said sound stupid.

"You've got a laptop in there, right?" She pointed. "Nobody's backpack has a bulge like that unless they're carrying a laptop."

"A laptop and some very expensive textbooks, yes."

"And you walked this far without an umbrella?"

"I was walking fast," I said. I tried to shrug it off, but it seemed hard to do with a girl half my size lecturing me.

"What, so you can dodge rain? I'm a black belt in judo and even I can't dodge rain," she said. She didn't look the part.

"See, there's your problem," I said. "You should've studied wu shu."

She laughed. "So are you coming or not?"

"Maybe you should just let me hold the umbrella," I said. It came up to about my eyes.

"What, and risk you stealing it? Not happening."

"No, look," I said. "It comes up to my eyes. I'm not going to be-"

She raised her arm as high as it would go, half-pouting so I would notice how much effort that took. No point in arguing. We started walking.

"What are you doing out here so late anyway?"

"Killing a few dudes," she said. "I'm a hitman. You?"

"Something a lot less exciting than that," I said. I figured it was better to come up with an answer on time than to come up with a witty reply ten seconds later. Especially only to figure out that your reply was less witty and more mind-numbingly stupid instead.

"Oh, come on. I'm sure it was something cool."

"Not really."

"Tell me."

"It's nothing."

"Come on."

"Why do you care?"

She didn't respond for a second. "Nevermind, jeez. Don't be so defensive."

"Sorry," I muttered. "I didn't mean it like that. It just came out that way, you know?"

"Uh-huh," she said.

Aaaaaaaand I just managed to kill another conversation. Amazing. I think I deserve an award for this one. I had to try pretty hard to do that. Any answer at all would've sufficed. Even the truth. Especially the truth. It's not like there's anything to be ashamed of about staying late to finish a paper.

"You don't live near campus?" She asked.

"Can't afford it," I said.  I wondered if I should elaborate.
She didn't say anything.  We walked.

"Uh, I like your raincoat," I said. That didn't sound creepy or anything.

"Really?" She almost ended up stabbing me in the eye with the little pointy bits on the end of her umbrella as she spun around. Fortunately, fifteen years of wu shu training gave me the super-human reflexes needed to block it with my face. Why is the under side of an umbrella wet? "Oh, god! Sorry! Are you alright?"

"Yeah, I'm fine," I said. "Fortunately, fifteen years of wu shu training gave me the super-human reflexes needed to block that with my face." It was such a good line I had to use it twice.

"Aw, I'm sorry, Sensei," she laughed. "Here, lemme wipe that off for you." She didn't manage to do very well with the bag in her hand. I stooped over for her anyway.
"Anyway," she said. "I got this when I visited Seoul last March. Do you know how much it rains over there?"

"Not really," I said.

"It rains like, every day. Like, every single day. And it never rains here, right? So I didn't have any clothes for that, so I figure, 'Hey, I'll go down to that little shop downstairs and buy an umbrella.' And then next thing I know I'm walking back upstairs with this whole outfit."

"I see."

"Yeah, and you know what the best part is? It stopped raining the next day. It didn't rain again the whole time I was there. I've been holding onto this and just waiting for it to rain. So I've pretty much just worn this for the last three days. I mean, like, this morning, I was like, 'I'm wearing this again? People are going to think I'm gross or something and wear the same things everyday,' but then I figure, 'Hey, nobody sees me twice a week anyway. And it's not like I'm wearing the same clothes underneath.' You get a free pass for wearing the same jacket a couple times in a row, right?"

"Uh, I guess."

"I'm totally not wearing the same thing underneath," she said, just to make sure I got that.

I sorta laughed. Mostly because I didn't have any idea what to say to that.

"Huh."

"Huh what?"

"It stopped raining."

We stopped for a second to watch the rain let up.

"I can see the stars."

Chang was about to end his shift when he found the portal to hell. The most sensible thing to do was run. Just pack up and leave. Cover it back up, take your pay, pack up as soon as you got home and leave town by daybreak.  Chang was a sensible man. You don't live this long in the mines without learning to be sensible. Unfortunately for him, he was also a kind man.

"Don't go all the way down my shaft," he told Li. "Stop halfway and start a new tunnel. Say you were following a small vein."

Li was ten years his junior. He just recently returned home after a failed attempt to start a life in Shanghai. Unlike in the city, the mine was always hiring. Of course, he could have decided to be more sensible and move to Taiyuan instead, but there wasn't any excitement in that. At least coal mining was interesting.

"Why?"

"Just don't do it. Fill it in."

"Are you going to tell me why?"

"Gas," Chang said heading up.

"Then you should tell the foreman, not me," Li said, stopping.

"I'm going up to tell him right now."

"It's not gas, is it?"

Unfortunately for both of them, Li was not a sensible man.

-

"Shit."

"Satisfied?" Chang asked, showing Li the black gate. "Now help me cover it back up."

A warm draft howled at them.

"You're not going to tell anybody?"

Chang dropped a rock in front of the doorway. "Who can we tell? If the mine closes, the town starves. Now help me cover it."

"Have you gone through it?"

Chang kept piling rocks around it. "Of course not."

"Then how do you know if it leads to hell?"

The gate screamed.

"That," Chang said. "The draft hasn't stopped either, in case you haven't noticed."

Li pulled a cellphone from his pocket.

"What are you doing?"

"If this gate really leads to hell, the town has bigger problems than the mine closing down." He took a picture. "Shit. Lighting's terrible down here. Can you tell that's a gate to hell?"

"Don't disturb it and it won't disturb you," Chang reasoned.

"Tie me," Li said, handing Chang his cord. "If I tug the line twice, pull me back."

Chang slapped him.

"Hey!"

"Don't be stupid. Help me cover it up."

"I'm not being stupid," Li said. "You're being stupid. Some rocks aren't going to stop anything coming out of that."

"I'm not stopping anything coming out of that. That's up to God," he said. "I'm stopping people going in."

Li tried to think of a good response to that. Not finding one, he found a support beam to tie himself to.

"What did I say?" Chang said, slapping him again.

"Ow! Stop hitting me."

"Help me fill it in."

"Alright, alright," Li said, grabbing a rock.

Chang watched him.

"See? Filling it up. Just like you asked." He walked away and grabbed another rock.

Chang kept watching him.

Li put another rock in the way. "Still filling it up," he said. "You asked me to help, right?"

"Untie yourself first," Chang said, turning back to grab another rock.

The line ran taut as soon as he finished his sentence. Li disappeared. He cursed to himself. Grabbing the line and bracing his legs, Chang started pulling. He slapped Li again as soon as he came back through the gate.

"I told you not to go in there!"

"Hey! Hey! Stop that!" He sat up once Chang stopped slapping him. He brushed himself off. "Shit. That hurt."

"I told you," Chang said, sitting down. "I told you not to go in there."

"I didn't get that far," Li said.

"Hey, what's going on down here?" Huang called. Chou, from the next tunnel over, was with him.

"Gate to hell," Chang and Li said.

"Shit."

-

Within half an hour, half the miners were gathered in front of the gate.

"So what do we do?" Wang asked. Wang was a balding man who had spent more of his life underground than he had above it.

"Fill it up," Chang said. "Fill this whole tunnel up, and forget it ever existed."

"Guys up top aren't going to be happy with that," Chou said. "We've been hitting a lot of good veins down here."

"Just enough to keep the mine in the black," Huang added. Huang and Chou had worked together for nearly seven years now. Chou had a healthy interest in finance, Huang had a head full of big ideas. It was just another fifteen years until they had the capital to establish their start-up.

"We'll tell them there's gas here," Chang said. "Or the ceiling's too weak. Anything works as long as we can keep people away from here."

"Since when did any of that stop them from sending us down anyway?" Wang asked. "We're stuck with it."

"That's why we need to see what's on the other side," Li said.

"Or we can just fill it in," Huang said.

"That's what I said," Chang said.

"You also said that wouldn't stop anything coming through it," Li pointed out.

"Nothing's coming through it," Wang said. "You didn't see anything when you were there."

"That doesn't mean there's nothing there, though," Li said.

"We could tear it down," Chou said.

"What if the gate is the only thing keeping them out?" Li said.

"Hm."

"Tearing it down would only make it easier for them to come through."

Chang got up.

"Where are you going?"

"Filling it in," he said. "Talking isn't getting us anywhere."

"Hold up," Li said. "When did we agree on that?"

"We didn't," Chang said. "We don't need to agree on anything."

"We need to make sure it's safe first," Li said. "Otherwise filling it in isn't going to change anything."

"Filling it never changed anything," Chou said. "It's just to make us feel better about it."

"Which means that if there is something on the other side, it can come through any time, filled in or not," Wang said.

"Exactly," Li said. "Chang, stop that. Listen to me." He tried to block the way to the gate.

"You don't know what you're talking about, Li." Chang walked around him.

"No, look," Li slid back in front of him. "We get some footage, make copies, put this up on Youtube. Let the Americans notice. Then the government has to take real action. We get relocated. Free. None of us can afford to move away with the money we have. They'll put soldiers here. In case anything happens. Everything will turn out alright."

"Youtube?"

"I know a guy, alright?" he said. "We can't show the foremen. They'll keep us down here anyway. Something happens, '50 Killed in Mining Accident,' that's it. This is the safest way to do it."

"What will the Americans do?" Chou asked. "The world doesn't work that way."

"Maybe not the Americans. The UN. Reporters Without Borders. Somebody. Chang, really, stop filling it in. That's not helping."

"Grow up a little," Chou said. "They don't care about us."

"It's worth a try," Li said. "We can fill this in after we check it out, alright, Chang?"

"I'm not letting you die in there," Chang said.

"We're dead anyway if we don't get some proof out," Li said.

Chang went back to piling rocks in front of the gate.

"Shit," Li said, patting himself down. "I think I dropped my phone in there."

"And?" Chang asked.

"It's a nice phone," he said. "Nokia C201. Takes pictures, video, gets internet. Whoever finds it gets to keep it after I upload the videos. How's that sound?"

Li climbed over the rubble and slid into the gate. A handful of miners followed him.

-

It was dark. The only light came from phorescent icor dripping from islands floating high above them. The ground was sticky. Li turned on his headlamp.

"Found it," he said, tearing his phone from the ground, which had started growing over it. It screamed as he tore it free. He checked to make sure it still worked. "Alright, everybody smile, we're going to be famous."

The group looked around.

"'Shanleng Seven Discover Portal to Hell, Save Small Shanxi Mining Town,' how does that sound?" he said.

"Come over here," Chou called from the edge of their island. "Look at this."

Li followed him up and brought his phone to bear.

"Shit."

He tugged his line twice.

Collette hummed quietly to herself as she spread a thin veil of strawberry jam on her toast.  She liked jam, especially strawberry.  Collette had something of a sweet tooth, and the nice man who worked weekends always went out of his way to sneak her in something.  The man that worked there weekends was the best.  He always brought her strawberry jam.  She took a bite as she dropped a sugar cube into her orange juice.  Those were both his, again.  He had brought it in for her for breakfast, he said, but he didn’t manage to get it to her until early evening.

Taking another bite, Collette pulled the blanket around her tighter.  It was a thin summer blanket, but it was the best available.  She was lucky he snuck her in a blanket.  It was amazing any of the others managed to survive in this cold.  The Yukionna aside, that was.  Winter was coming on, and with the recent budget cuts, it was getting harder and harder for the shelter to support so many.  She shivered as she reached for the orange juice with blanketed hands, managing only to tip the glass over.

“Ah,” Collette sighed, trying to wipe up as much of the spilled juice off the cold concrete as she could.  She wished he had given her socks.  She’d ask him when he came to take her for her bath.  Righting the glass, she managed to salvage a good quarter of the juice.  She went back to humming a particularly tuneless song as she set to sipping what was left.

She had a good life down at the shelter, she decided, finishing.  She could do with a jacket, socks, a thicker blanket, maybe.  But they fed her twice a day, and always had a warm bath ready at six.  And then there was the man that worked weekends.  Even if she didn’t have any of that throughout the week, those two days would still be worth it.  Collette pulled the blanket closer to herself, trying to avoid the parts soaked in orange juice.  As if it felt her pain, an old heater rattled to life on the other side of the room.  It would take it nearly an hour to reach her cage, and even then, it wasn’t running as well as it had when it was brand new.  Nobody at the shelter could remember how long ago it was that the heater was new.

Pulling her blanket around her again, Collette laid her head against the wall and tried to sleep.  There wasn’t much room inside the box – she couldn’t even extend her legs all the way out, but that was fine with her.  Schrankgeist like enclosed spaces anyway.  It was only half an hour until bath time.  She’d be warm then, when the man who worked weekends came to get her.

-

She couldn’t have been asleep for more than ten minutes when a loud voice woke her.

“Oh!  Can we see those, mom?”

It was a little boy.  His footsteps grew louder as he ran past the room, then fainter as he overshot it and head for the Pontianak cages.  A softer pair of feet followed.  That must’ve been his mother.  The cages rattled in the next room.  The Pontianak smelled young blood.  Collette could still hear their shrieking through the soundproofing.

“Wouldn’t you rather have a Schrankgeist instead?” the mother asked.  “They’re so much quieter.  And less dangerous.”

The door opened.  Collette hoped she didn’t get chosen.  That would mean that she wouldn’t be able to see the man who worked weekends any more.

The gate on her cage slid open.  Collette squinted.  The lights were always so bright whenever the gate opened.  Being in darkness for twenty-three hours a day would do that.

“Oh, I want this one, mom!  This one!”  The boy hopped up and down from behind the peeling red line painted on the floor.

“I don’t know,” she said to herself, trying to think of an excuse to say no.

“Please, mom?  Please?”  He tugged at her sleeve.  Collette huddled tighter in her corner, praying the mother would find her excuse.  “I’d never forget to feed her, and I’ll play with her every day, I promise.”

“Are you sure you won’t get bored of her?”

“I’m sure, mom!  Really!”

The man who worked weekends spoke up.  “She’s a great choice, ma’am.”  Collette looked downward.  Was he trying to get rid of her?

“See, mom?  He thinks so,” the boy smiled, boasting.

“I still don’t know.  I might have to call your father,” the mother said, fishing around in her purse.

“Please take her,” the man said.  He leaned over and whispered something Collette couldn’t make out.  “Please.”

Didn’t he like her?  What about all those days he’d slide her door open and bring her a snack?  “Here you go, Collette,” he’d say, and pat her on the head.  “Don’t tell anybody, though.  I’m not supposed to be doing this.”

“I won’t,” she’d say back.  “Thank you so much, mister.”

She buried her head in her arms, dabbing her eyes with the blanket.

“Fine then,” the mother said.  “Do you have one in brunette?  This one’s hair will clash with the drapes.”

“Yeah, right this way,” the man who worked weekends said.  He bit his lip as he slid her door closed.

-

A few hours passed.  They left with the red-head across the room.  Collette couldn’t remember her name.

Her door slid open again.

“Come on, Collette, time for your bath,” the man who worked weekends said.  He didn’t sound as happy as he normally did.  Was he that disappointed she was still here?

Collette didn’t move.

“Come on, Collette.  You love bath time.”

“Why do you want to get rid of me?”  She asked, staring at the ground.

“I, well,” he started, hesitating, stopping, starting again.  “It’s that, well, you know, it’s a long story.”

“Don’t you like me?” Her blanket was still wet. She was going to ask him for a dry one, but she wasn’t sure anymore.

“Of course I like you,” he said.  Lied, probably.  “It’s just that…” He trailed off.  Biting his lip again, he pulled a chocolate bar out of his pocket.  “I’ll let you have this if you come out.”

Collette looked at him for a second before pushing the candy away.  “I’m not a dog, you know.”

“I know,” he said, giving it to her anyway.  The chocolate bar slid down the front of her blanket and landed on the floor.  “It’s just that, we’re going to have to…”

“Have to what?” Collette asked.  “Have to what?”

“We’re going to have to move you to a different shelter tonight,” he said, looking at the peeling red line on the ground.  “I thought they’d be a nice family.”

“Is the different shelter not nice?” Collette asked.

“I’m not sure,” the man said back.  “I hope it is.”

Collette stared at the floor some more.

The man reached in and scooped her out, pausing a second so she could grab the candy.  Collette peeled the wrapper open and nibbled at it as he carried her down the hall.

“I won’t see you again at this new shelter, will I?”

“I don’t think so.”

“Oh.”

Collette took another bite of her chocolate.

-

“Will they still have warm baths?” Collette asked.

“I’m sure they will,” the man said, washing her hair.

“And will they have a heater?” Collette asked.

“A heater?  Oh sure.  Personal ones too.”

“And what about the food?”  Collette asked.

“All the strawberry jam you could ask for,” the man said.

Collette smiled.  She thought the man was smiling too, but she couldn’t tell.

He washed her back.

-

The man toweled her off and carried her back into the hall.  Most of the lights had been turned off by now, and there wasn’t a sound throughout the whole building besides his footsteps.  Even the Sirens were quiet.  They had spent a lot longer than usual, and with the boy and his mother spending so long choosing, it must have been at least nine or ten.  Everybody else had left long ago.

“We passed the Schrankgeist room,” Collette said after a while.

“I know,” the man said.  “We’re sending you off tonight.”  He was biting his lip again.

“Oh,” Collette said.

He turned into a small room with a metal door and laid her down on a small metal table.  There wasn’t a heater in this room, and Collette could feel the cold nip at her back through the towel.

Opening a drawer, the man who worked weekends pulled out a syringe.  He flicked it twice, then pulled off the cap.

“What’s that?” Collette asked.  She didn’t like needles.

“Just medicine,” he said.  “It’ll help you sleep.”

“When I wake up, I’ll be at the new shelter, right?”  Collette asked.

“Yeah,” he said.  “You’ll be at the new shelter.”

“So I won’t see you again,” Collette said.

“No,” he said.

“But it’s a good shelter, right?” Collette asked.

“All the strawberry jam you could want,” the man who worked weekends said.

When Jake awoke, he was in a bathtub filled with ice, an unnecessarily long scar where his liver should've been.

Towering above him, a man in a ski mask, a bloodied scalpel still in his hand.  Seeing that his victim had awoken, he put the knife down, running his hands through the sink.

"Dude, what the hell?"  Jake asked, not all too pleased with the removal of his vital organs, consent explicitly not given, at that.  "I was using those."

The man ignored Jake and wiped his hands off.  Picking up a fine pair of kidneys from the operating table, he slipped his hands into them, rolling his fingers as he tested out his new boxing gloves.  The man turned to Jake.

"I will fight you."