Oh, no.
"The aquarium."
I stare at him.
"What aquarium?"
"The big one down by the harbor."
His grin widens.
"They're having that special event tonight, remember?"
Death slowly looks up.
"What special event?"
"Night of the Deep Sea."
The Devil suddenly sounds like an enthusiastic event planner.
"Once a year. Midnight opening. Dimmed lights. People wandering through enormous glass tunnels in the middle of the night."
He throws his hands up excitedly.
"Sharks swimming overhead. Stingrays. Jellyfish. Everything bathed in deep blue light."
I stare at him.
Unfortunately, that actually sounds rather impressive.
"And now," the Devil continues enthusiastically, "picture this."
Oh, no.
Death is already leaning back slightly.
Apparently, he knows this phase all too well.
"At first, nobody hears a thing."
The Devil slowly taps a fingernail against his whiskey glass.
Tick.
"Then a tiny crack."
Tick.
"Just the faintest little sound."
His grin widens.
"The piranhas sense it first."
For a moment, nobody says a word.
Even the bartender looks up in confusion.
The Devil begins speaking faster.
"People look up."
He points toward the ceiling.
"Water everywhere. Darkness. Enormous shadows moving above them."
Death silently studies his cards.
"The doors lock," the Devil continues, practically swooning.
"The emergency exits stop working."
He leans back, delighted.
"And then..."
Suddenly, he slams his open palm against the table.
The cards tremble slightly.
"The glass shatters."
For a moment, I can actually hear the roar of rushing water in my head.
Tons of water.
Shattered glass.
Screams.
The Devil smiles with satisfaction.
"The floodgates of Hell burst open."
A brief pause.
"Perhaps not an enormous number of fellow travelers to the afterlife..."
He takes a sip of whiskey.
"But the atmosphere?"
His gold tooth flashes.
"A masterpiece."
"Too many insurance claims," Death mutters dryly.
I stare at them both.
"That's your problem with it?"
Death gives a slight shrug beneath his hoodie.
"Someone has to deal with the paperwork afterward."
The Devil rolls his eyes in irritation.
"You really are the most tiresome incarnation of Death I've ever encountered."
"And you're dramatic."
"Of course I'm dramatic."
The Devil looks genuinely offended.
"What would the universe be without a little style?"
He reaches for his cards, slowly pulls out two, and tosses them onto the table.
Eight of diamonds.
Jack of hearts.
"Two new ones."
Without a word, Death picks up the deck and deals him two cards.
The Devil looks at them.
And suddenly, that grin returns.
Damn it.
I don't like that one bit.
I look down at my own hand.
The three kings still firmly in my grasp.
Still strong.
But suddenly, the cards seem to be growing heavier.
Perhaps it's the clock.
2:55 a.m.
Five minutes left.
The ticking above the bar now sounds like a metronome counting down bad decisions.
The Devil studies my face intently, and whatever expression he finds there seems to please him.
He takes a leisurely sip of whiskey, savoring it.
"I believe," he murmurs with satisfaction, "you're finally starting to dislike this evening."
"On the contrary," I reply dryly.
"Ever since your aquarium massacre, I've felt positively wonderful."
Death actually ducks his head ever so slightly, as though suppressing a silent chuckle.
The Devil, however, leans forward enthusiastically.
"You're underestimating the atmosphere."
"What I'm underestimating is the likelihood of anyone voluntarily taking a stroll beneath sharks at three in the morning."
"People pay admission for far stupider things."
Unfortunately, he's probably right.
The Devil taps a finger against his new hand of cards.
"Just imagine it."
I'd rather not.
"Dim lighting. Blue water everywhere. Sharks gliding through the darkness above your head."
He slowly raises a hand toward the ceiling.
"And then, suddenly, that first little crack."
Tick.
Another minute passes on the clock.
2:56 a.m.
The Devil continues smiling contentedly.
"At first, nobody believes there's any danger."
He slowly turns a playing card between his fingers.
"Then the first drops of water begin trickling down the glass."
I glance at my beer glass.
Almost empty.
"Children start crying," the Devil continues dreamily.
"Somewhere, the lights go out."
He leans back.
"And then, suddenly, the entire ocean comes crashing in."
He spreads his arms like a conductor.
"Water. Glass. Panic. Screams."
His grin is positively demonic.
"Poetic."
"Wet," Death corrects him dryly.
The Devil ignores him completely.
"And we could still make it."
Now even I look at him in confusion.
"Excuse me?"
He gestures toward the clock with a grin.
"The aquarium is less than ten minutes away."
Oh, no.
"We could leave right now."
Death silently studies his cards.
"Parking could be a problem," he murmurs calmly.
For a moment, absolute silence fills the room.
I stare at Death.
So does the Devil.
Even the bartender has finally stopped polishing glasses.
"Excuse me," the Devil says slowly. "Did you seriously just bring up parking problems as an argument against a potential catastrophe?"
Death gives a slight shrug beneath his hoodie.
"People revert to surprisingly primitive behavior when they panic."
He presses his cards tightly against himself.
"The first ones try to escape," he continues quietly.
"The next ones block the exit. Someone leaves their engine running and stops right in the middle of the lane."
He raises his head slightly.
"In the end, more people die outside in the chaos than inside in the water. And that would ruin your entire scenario."
For a moment, nobody says anything.
The Devil studies him thoughtfully.
"That's disturbingly realistic."
"Experience," Death murmurs calmly.
I pick up my beer glass and slowly turn it between my fingers.
"I find it immensely reassuring that even when discussing potential catastrophes, parking arrangements are still a major concern."
The Devil immediately grins again.
"Oh, believe me. Humanity manages to surprise even us on a regular basis."
"Yes," Death mutters dryly.
"Especially behind the wheel."
For a moment, silence settles over the table.
No new absurd ideas.
No laughter.
Only the soft ticking of the clock above the bar and, somewhere in the background, the nervous clinking of a glass in the bartender's hands.
2:58 a.m.
Death silently studies his cards. The Devil slowly turns his whiskey glass between his fingers.
In the distance, a deep metallic rumbling approaches.
Muffled at first.
Far away.
Then louder.
The glasses behind the bar begin to vibrate slightly on their shelves. For a few seconds, even the floor seems to tremble beneath us.
The bartender immediately looks up.
So does Death.
The noise grows louder until the long, drawn-out howl of a train cuts through the night.
Right behind the next row of buildings.
The Devil freezes in mid-motion.
And suddenly, he begins to smile.
"Of course," he murmurs, almost reverently.
Very slowly, he leans back.
"The train."
Death raises his head slightly.
Now I see it.
That gleam in the Devil's eyes.
He's already thinking ahead.
Of course he is.
"The overpass just around the corner," he murmurs excitedly to himself. "Metal. Speed. Sparks."
His grin widens.
"A derailment in the middle of the night."
He spreads his arms enthusiastically, like a conductor moments before the climax of a concert.
"Train cars piling on top of one another. Steel tearing apart. Windows exploding."
The bartender suddenly turns deathly pale.
"No."
For the first time, his voice sounds genuinely panicked.
The Devil slowly turns his head toward him.
"No?"
The bartender visibly swallows.
"That's... that's my way home."
For a brief moment, silence fills the room.
Then the Devil positively beams.
"Oh, this just keeps getting better."
He enthusiastically raises his whiskey glass toward the bartender.
"Then we'll simply take you along."
By now, the poor man looks like someone seriously considering whether unemployment might not be such a terrible thing after all.
The Devil, meanwhile, is as excited as a child on Christmas Eve.
"And the best part?"
He gestures contentedly toward the window.
"We can easily pull it off before 3:15 a.m."
I breathe a sigh of relief.
There it is.
My moment of silent triumph.
I've got him exactly where I wanted him from the very beginning.
Now I just have to make sure I don't give anything away.
Play along until the very last second.
The Devil leans back with satisfaction and lifts his cards slightly.
"Then let's finish this. All in!"
All in.
Those two words hang heavily between us.