Our Lady of Perdition

The Third Circle - Ciacco

I tromped through the jungle, alternating with Bugs as to who was in the lead. I kept quiet for some time, thinking about the things we'd just gone through and the horrible sea battle before it. I thought about dropping our bombs during various events, how we'd not even see the poor Japs that got killed. 

I grumbled. I shouldn't think about that, not now, not when survival depended on clear-headedness and determination. I sorted through conversations in my head, then asked Bugs, "Hey, Bugs, you told me earlier that you had a pathetic amount of cash and some cigarettes to your name. But you told that sorry sack of flesh in the whirlpool that you have a sister. Which is the lie?" 

"Neither," Bugs answered. "I have a little sister, but I ain't got a sister to go back to, not really." 

"She dead?" 

"It's... look, I came from a complicated situation." 

I walked through the jungle doorway Bugs had slashed open. "We might have all the time in the world and beyond, here. Try and explain it." 

Bugs shook his head. "I don't think you're ready." 

"Come on. Ain't going to hurt nothing." 

"Cazzo," Bugs cursed. He kicked at a log, but the wood was recently fallen and didn't budge or crumble. "If it'll get you to stop pestering me, I'll tell you the short version. Mama died or left or something when I was little, not long after Millie was born. I'm a bit older than you, and Pops was attached to some people in Spain. So I went to fight in their Civil War for some stupid reason, and when I came back everything was different. The three of us got in a big fight, my sister took all my stuff and money to somewhere else, probably that shithole New Jersey, and my dad called the cops to get me arrested for bustin' him up. Reason I'm here is 'cause I learned to drop bombs in the Civil War and the judge said he'd let me off if I joined the Navy. Everyone knew the war was coming, and he was some kind of hardcore patriot." 

I blinked, finding it hard to keep going while I thought over Bugs's story. "What was the fight with your dad over?" 

"None of your business, is what it was over. I've got the machete right now, so you best hush your questioning before I decide it's not just for chopping down trees." 

I guffawed, found my balance, and went forward to help Bugs push some limbs away. 

When I added my strength, the branches gave way and we both tumbled forward, rolling down a merciless hill covered in brush and weeds. Without the thick tree cover we'd struggled through at the top of the hill, I could tell that the weather was growing poorer and rain slopped down from the heavens - or just from whatever clouds loomed above us. Eventually I used my feet and the tough combat boots to slow my roll in the mud, then to Bugs in order to stop him from the continued fall. 

"You ok?" I asked him. I noted that we were both caked in mud, covered in almost a whole layer of filth. Wiping it off didn't seem to do much, so I stood in the rain while it slathered me off. 

"Yeah," Bugs answered, similarly finding himself filthy. He stood to continue descending the hill. "There's something else up ahead of us." 

"Oh no," I responded. "Don't go check." 

"I think Mary wants us to see it all. Like a test or something," Bugs said. "Besides, it's going to get us closer to the shore, and maybe the rain won't be as bad in the jungle." 

So I followed Bugs down the hill. I could see a bit of sparkle through the trees, like gas lamps. I heard laughter, joy, old jazz. The jungle soon gave way to a forest of lampposts, of fire hydrants, of broken cars. The steel and iron creations were crooked and decaying, seemingly from some sort of acid in the rain. When the drops fell on parts of my skin not covered by the mud, I felt a burning sensation.