Read Burning Lilies :: Chapter 2, Part 1

Cale felt like the White Rabbit from Alice’s Adventures in Wonderland as he rushed through the streets of Beelz City. A demonic rabbit with a smartphone instead of a pocket watch and, unlike the original rabbit, a destination that he really had to get to on time. It had all started so well. His superior had delivered the amazing news that a newcomer had been assigned to him, a real criminal this time. On his way home he’d met his neighbour René who had insisted that they go out for drinks to celebrate. Cale had even had time to get some chores done and tidy up his flat a little ... In his own way, at least. As long as his new protegé didn’t open the wardrobe, he’d be able to sleep in a perfectly orderly bedroom. Cale wasn’t overly concerned about that, considering that this Charles guy probably wouldn’t have any luggage on him. Newcomers were never prepared.

The hours had gone by so fast he’d barely noticed it for the first time in a while. The bar they had chosen was near the airport since René had a date in that area later that night, so Cale hadn't been too worried about being late. But of course he had to be struck by bad luck, as always; he wasn’t big on drinking, so the few beverages he’d enjoyed had quite an effect on his mental clarity, and in his drunken haze he’d got on the wrong bus and only noticed when he’d almost reached the city centre. Hence here he was, hurrying down a busy street like a chased rabbit, feeling more stressed than ever. He wasn’t even worried about missing the official departure time of the bus he had to get; Beelz City’s public transport was rarely on time. It was just that he was even tardier than the bus usually was.

To his astonishment, he just about made it. Bus number 230 was still standing at the stop with open doors. Relieved, Cale squeezed into the already overcrowded vehicle and soon felt suffocated by the masses of people surrounding him. To make matters worse, the bus driver turned up the volume of his radio as soon as the doors were closed, and his music of choice was ... Bad. Atrociously bad. So bad, in fact, that Cale wouldn’t even call it music. It was noise, loud and persistent noise that made his head throb. On top of that, his poor ears were being assaulted by his fellow passengers’ futile attempts at blocking out the radio by having even louder conversations. Every time they went around a corner he was thrown to the side and almost squashed by the crowd, like a drunken dance at a bad concert. The bus driver's rapid alternation between accelerating and coming to a sudden halt wasnt' helping either. Cale's head was spinning, and he was beginning to feel nauseated, perhaps from the alcohol, perhaps from the hellish bus drive. The stale air made it hard to breathe and brought back memories of persistent coughing and futile attempts at getting enough air into his body that he would rather have banished from his consciousness. One passenger had a particularly strong body odour about them that made Cale fantasise about amputating his nose.

Suddenly, the driver miraculously managed to take a sharp turn that threw Cale against a window. They were going in the opposite direction, away from the airport. Cale watched the houses they'd passed pass him by again and tried to stay on his feet as the people around him began to move to the front to voice their concerns.

Great. Just great, he thought. He'd live up to his reputation and give the word late a whole new meaning after all. At least his new protegé would get a taste of what life in Beelz City was like. Cale felt inclined to join the other passengers’ protests, but they were interrupted by the driver addressing them through the speaker.

‘Alright, folks, listen. I was told to take this route, so that’s what I’m gonna do. No idea why I’m supposed to take it but looking at the pile-up back there, you know, seems like the better option to me. So stop whining; it’s not gonna help you. We’ll arrive at Mephisto Tower soon and you can take any bus you want from there. Did I make myself clear?’ The response was a multitude of angry voices making their disapproval known, but the driver blocked them out by turning the radio even louder. Cale’s mood had reached its low point. Mephisto Tower was in the very centre of Beelz City, the airport on its outskirts. It would take ages to get there.

Cale's heart sank when they reached Mephisto Tower and he saw the crowds of waiting people. Still, he was relieved when he could finally get out. He took a few deep breaths, inhaling the cool and at least somewhat fresh air, then began his search for the right bus stop. He was tempted to take a taxi, but decided it would be a waste of money. His new protegé's criminal record meant that he would probably earn a little more than with the office work he’d done for the last couple of weeks, but he was still by no means rich. His balance was in the negatives and all he hoped for was that his new assignment would bring it closer to zero than his overdraft limit. He skimmed through the schedule with little hope that the bus would be on time.

‘Cale? Is that you?’ he suddenly heard a familiar voice. He turned around and smiled when he spotted another friend who, like René, also happened to live in the same building as him. She was rubbing her arms and seemed cold in spite of the long coat she wore, but she was smiling, too.

‘Hi, Rosita. What’re you doing here in the middle of the night? Crazy working hours?’ Rosita laughed.

‘Lucifer isn't that bad. I just left some of my stuff at my office and had to go back to get it. Been waiting here for half an hour.’ She grimaced. ‘I’d love to know what’s wrong with the traffic today. Are you going home by any chance?’ Cale shook his head no and Rosita let out a disappointed sigh. ‘Shame. We could’ve shared a cab.’

Cale knew that she would have done so for his sake more than her own; though far from being a millionaire, she had no trouble paying for a taxi on her own. Rosita undoubtedly had one of the best jobs imaginable. Not only did she earn three times as much as the average person, but she was also privileged enough to see the infernal leader in person on a daily basis and, from what she’d told Cale, she got along with him fairly well. It was a miracle that she’d never been chased by news reporters and paparazzi. However, since Lucifer valued his privacy and didn’t like showing his face to the public more often than he had to, Rosita had been spared by the media as well and was able to lead an ordinary life. Perhaps that was why neither her status nor Cale’s occasional envy of her financial comfort had ever got in the way of their friendship. Because, apart from the more favourable numbers on her bank account, she was an ordinary demon, just like him.

‘Goin’ to the airport,’ he explained. ‘New protegé, some guy who robbed a bank. He’ll have to wait a while it seems.’

‘A real criminal? I’m impressed. If I were you I’d take an express bus, they’re the most reliable.’

Cale was in luck, as it wasn’t too long until a bus labeled 2300: Behemoth Airport arrived. He said goodbye to Rosita and hopped on it, handing the driver the extra five-fifty he had to pay for the journey. It was still a lot cheaper than a taxi and, to his relief, the bus wasn't nearly as crowded as the previous one. Cale gladly took a vacant window seat he found. It was a quiet journey; the driver had put on music as well, some catchy Korean song everyone loved at the moment, but at a tolerable volume. The other passengers were silent for the most part. Cale leaned his forehead onto the cool window and decided he’d use the time to relax a little.

Soon, he was nodding off and would probably have fallen asleep, had it not been for the pungent smell that had him wide awake again, his senses heightened to his surroundings. His eyes fell on a distant orange glow in the dark, with barely visible smoke above it. Cale stared into the distance and his throat tightened when he realised that it had to be a large fire. Was that the reason why the buses had been sent back? But why had nobody heard about it, and just how big had it been if it had disturbed the public transport system so much? Something about this sight seemed off, and it took him a while to understand what it was.

It was dark. Pitch-black, almost. Looking through the opposite window, he could nake out blinking lights in the distance, courtesy of a city that truly never slept. But to his right there was nothing. No light save for the distant fiery glow. Cale knew this route. He knew they were driving through a residential area, and not a single window was illuminated. There wasn’t a single sign of life. He tried to tell himself that it was nothing, that the people in this area just happened to be sleeping, but he couldn't shake the feeling that something wasn't right. Beelz City embraced different sleeping schedules, and they should have passed at least a few open shops, and even more night people's homes.

Cale was relieved when they reached the airport and he was once again surrounded by light and life - a lot of it, as the airport was exceptionally overcrowded today. This time, he didn't mind the crowds, though. He wasn't confined to a small space like on the bus, and he wouldn’t be here for too long. According to his papers, Charles Wilson’s plane had landed an hour ago. All Cale had to do was find his protegé as quickly as possible and then head home for some well-deserved sleep.

Unfortunately, there was no Charles Wilson. There was no mention of a flight BZY 1930, no useful information on the arrivals board, and after having searched the newcomer area with a sign in his hand for ages, Cale decided to go to the information desk to ask about the whereabouts of the plane, just to be told by an exceptionally grumpy employee that it was, indeed, not there. Only after a few minutes of going back and forth between pleading and arguing about the matter did the man finally agree to investigate the matter further and reveal to Cale that the flight was delayed by at least three hours and had hence not yet arrived.

‘Please, you can’t be serious!’ Cale exclaimed. So he’d stressed over nothing. He was used to the public transport system having a will of its own - and, often enough, a sadistic streak as well - but this went far beyond his usual bad luck. He hurried away from the desk to stop himself from complaining to the employee. He seemed like he was already having a bad day, Cale’s misfortune wasn’t his fault and it wouldn’t have been fair to let out his frustrations on him. Instead, Cale took a deep breath to calm himself down and looked around in search of a comfortable place to wait. There was no point in getting angry, and, on the bright side, at least his protegé wouldn't have to wait.