Coop looked into the void. There was a ladder inside. He stepped onto the top rung and lowered himself down. His shoulders barely fit through the gap in the sidewalk, but he kept going. Overhead, the lights went out as Giselle pulled the star closed.

“You want to pick up the pace, Grandpa?”

“I’m remembering how much I enjoy your company,” he grumbled.

“Me, too.”

Coop couldn’t see where he was going, but after only a minute or so of climbing he was on solid ground again.

Giselle climbed down and stood next to him. “What do you think so far?” she said.

“If this is Candy Land, I’m a little underwhelmed.”

“Oh yeah?” She walked to the wall and opened a door. “Try this on for size.” He went through and she followed him.

Coop stood there for a minute. He started to say something, but all he could think of was “Huh” or “Are those bats?” They were in a wide, bright, open space, like a mall lobby. But this one made no damned sense. It rose up ten stories or more, but he and Giselle hadn’t climbed down more than twenty feet. Really, they should be knee-deep in half-eaten vegan tofu wraps and empty sunscreen bottles in the L.A. sewer system. Instead, they were in what looked like a cross between a Vegas hotel and a haunted house in an old B horror movie. Sure, the place had gleaming escalators, bars, and restaurants, but Coop spied shadowy things moving inside several cobwebbed storefronts. There was a marble fountain in the center of the lobby, and the tourists hanging around it snapping pictures had greenish skin and gills. There were even bats, which flew in slow circles around the ceiling while mooks and succubi bought designer shoes at upscale boutiques with names like Cannibal Clique and Velvet Sarcophagus.

“Well? What do you think?” said Giselle.

“I bet this is what you see when you’re alone with your little vibrating friend late at night.”

She laughed and pulled him over to a backlit map of the place near the biggest escalator.

“There are thirteen floors. Light ones like this, but dark ones, too. And wet ones, steamy ones, dry ones, see? Floors for whatever you want or whatever you are.”

“I get it. Disneyland for things that go bump in the night.”

“Welcome to Jinx Town.”

“Thanks. Don’t bother with a welcome basket. I have a feeling what they call summer sausage down here isn’t something I want to try.”

She frowned. “Be good.”

“I am. So, what do we do now? I think there’s a bar over there.”

“We’re not going to that one. We’re going upstairs to the highest of the dark floors. According to the clever boots at the DOPS, that’s where Babylon likes to hang out.”

When Giselle tried to pull Coop to the escalator, he stayed put. “What’s wrong?” she said.