Goblins (13 page)

Before leaving the back room, they each used their goblin magic and cast an illusion spell over themselves. The Shawn goblin became human again, the Eric goblin too. They were copies of the human children they had been, save their clothing—brown, raggedy pants. They then closed the back room door and headed to the guest rooms, sniffing around each door they came to.

Chapter Eighteen

Officer Hendricks had been so absorbed in the latest Kristopher Rufty novel that he hadn't realized his ass had fallen asleep. He'd been sitting on the hard, plastic chair outside the Bellmore's hotel room for most of the night. He wondered why he was given such an uncomfortable chair. There had to be one with some cushion on it somewhere in the hotel. Maybe the chief had told the hotel personnel to give him something not too gentle on the bottom so there would be less of a chance of him falling asleep. When he thought about it, it made sense.

Room Ten, the Bellmore's room, had been quiet all night, the inhabitants asking him for nothing. The only time he saw Mr. Bellmore was when food had been delivered—Chang's Chinese—and when he grabbed a few drinks from the vending machine in the lobby.

Standing, Hendricks' knees popped. He put the book down and stretched. The area from his groin to his ass was numb. He moved his hips and realized his penis had fallen asleep too. He shook his legs out and waited for the blood to return, the sensation unnerving.

He felt a bit guilty sitting in a safe and secure place babysitting. Most of the department was staking out the Bellmore house or scouring the island for dangerous people. Risking their lives. To be honest, he was glad to not be risking his. It was shitty to feel that way, but it was true.

Since he was being honest with himself, he wasn't babysitting, but safeguarding. And he was the only one that stood between the Bellmores and the killers. Of course, no one but the chief and a few others knew where the Bellmores were located. Thinking about it again, yeah, he was basically babysitting.

He'd called his girlfriend, then his friends. But with the late shift, he knew he wouldn't be able to chat on his phone all night. They all went to sleep at normal hours. So rather than stare at the walls, run his phone battery down playing games, or fall asleep, he read. He'd wanted to catch up on some reading anyway, and it turned out the quiet night was perfect for it.

Whether he was where he was or not, his fellow lawmen would be where they were. His reading and relaxing made no difference to what was going on elsewhere. They were out in force, armed and prepared. There was no reason to fear for them. His job was to safeguard, so safeguard he would do. It wasn't like he had brought a bottle of Washington's finest Barbera wine, Eccolo, with him. Though, now he wished he had.

Reading an exciting and chilling novel would keep him awake and alert. Every time someone came from a room or up the stairs from the first floor, he put the book down and prepared himself for action—hand on his service weapon, but not in a menacing way. It had been a few hours since he'd seen anyone.

Nothing was going to happen at the hotel. The kidnappers would show up at the Bellmore house, like they had before, and be placed in handcuffs or tackled to the ground. Returning to the scene of the crime was their MO. Unless they had left the island, feeling like they'd pushed their luck far enough, and were in another state by now.

With feeling returning to his crotch, he walked down the hall, the pins and needles sensation driving him crazy. Sure, in the legs or arms it was tolerable, but a numb penis was just plain frightening.

He glanced around and let out a loud fart.
Better
, he thought. It wasn't silent, but it was deadly. He wrinkled his nose as the smell hit him. Another reason he was glad he was on duty alone. He'd eaten tacos for dinner. The side of chili that came with the meal always gave him bad gas. But knowing he was going to be by himself, he didn't care.

He was hungry again, though. It had been five hours since he'd eaten anything besides the Little Debbie snack cakes he bought from the lobby's machine. He'd packed a turkey hero, a bag of potato chips and two cans of Coke before he came to work, knowing he'd be hungry again. But he was in the mood for chocolate. Maybe he'd head to the lobby and grab something from the vending machine—a candy bar or bag of M&Ms.

Hendricks' train of thought was interrupted when he heard someone coming up the stairs. He hurried back to his chair, but remained standing. A few seconds later, two children broached the landing and were heading his way. He relaxed, then wondered what the hell two kids were doing up so late—and why they were only wearing brown pants. Confused, he watched them approach, thinking their parents would be coming up the stairs next, but no one else showed.

He had no idea what kind of parents would allow their children to run around like that. He shook his head in bewilderment and wondered why there weren't stricter parenting laws. It was possible the kids had snuck out of their room.

“Hey, guys,” he said as they drew closer.

“Daddy,” the smaller boy said, his voice flat.

The larger boy giggled and said, “Policeman.”

“That's right, little guy,” Hendricks said, smiling. But then his smile died as the horrendous odor fell over him like an invisible wave. He immediately thought of the time he'd had to drive behind the town garbage truck for a block as it picked up and crushed trash. He took a step back. The idea of eating anything now made him want to vomit.

The boys came right up to him.

Hendricks held his ground, but found it impossible not to cover his nose with his forearm.

“Policeman,” the bigger boy said again.

Both kids were staring up at him. Their eyes were wide and lifeless. Neither child was blinking. Hendricks thought they looked hypnotized or something. Smiles plastered their faces, making them appear creepy.

Hendricks continued to breathe through his mouth, but his throat and tongue felt like they had a chalky substance on them, as if the air was coated in grime.

The smaller child's body gleamed and the air around him vacillated. Hendricks saw a monster. The kid turned algae green, his eyes becoming black orbs. The larger kid changed followed suit. Hendricks shook his head and took another step back. When he looked again, the kids were normal.

Shit
, he thought. The smell was affecting him.

“Lost,” the larger kid said.

“Lost,” the smaller kid repeated.

That was it. They had snuck out of their room and didn't know which one was theirs. They had gotten into something nasty outside too, had found a dead animal or some really rank water.

Still covering his nose, he said, “Are you guys looking for your room?”

“Room,” said the smaller child.

“Are your parents there?” Hendricks asked.

“Lost,” the smaller child said, his tone the same with every word.

A chill ran down Hendricks' spine. The kids weren't acting normal. Their expressions hadn't changed since he set eyes on them—smiles and wide-eyed. They were unemotional, dazed. Robotic.

The air around them faltered again, their bodies shimmering and becoming hideous creatures. Hendricks shook his head. Maybe the kids had gotten into something that was dangerous. Something toxic. Or radiation. He realized his imagination was probably getting the best of him. He watched too many horror and science fiction movies. But something definitely wasn't right here.

He reached for his radio ready to call in the situation, then hesitated. He couldn't bother his companions who were knee-deep in an undercover operation. First, he'd check with the desk clerk downstairs. Maybe she would recognize the kids. Together, they could find which room the children belonged in. If it turned out they had wandered in from off the street, then he'd call dispatch.

The smaller boy stepped forward and held out his arms. “Up,” he said.

Aside from feeling unnerved, there was no way Hendricks was going to touch either child, short of holding their hands. He had no idea what they'd gotten into. For all he knew, they were housing lice and ticks and who knew what else.

“I'm not picking you up, little guy,” Hendricks said, but held out his hand for the kid to take. The boy's body glistened again and he became the monster. Hendricks went to pull his hand back, but the thing-boy grabbed on to his wrist and held it in place. Hendricks blinked, expecting to see the boy again, but the creature remained. It was still latched on to him, its clawed fingers like iron. It grinned, and he saw two rows of saw blade-like teeth. Hendricks' eyes darted to the other boy, who was now a similar-looking monster but with larger muscles and longer teeth. He tried yanking his wrist free again to go for his sidearm, but couldn't break the creature's grasp. He reached around his waist with his other arm in an attempt to reach the gun when pain blossomed in his wrist. He cried out and fell to his knees as the little green being crushed his bones with a single squeeze.

Then the thing released him—just like that.

Hendricks reached for his gun, but found he was unable to move his hand, the body part dangling like a scrotum. He turned to run, not knowing what else to do. If he could get away from them, maybe he could reach his weapon using his other hand. Then he would fill the fuckers with lead. But one of the creatures landed on his back. Sharp, fiery pain exploded into him as its clawed feet pierced his flesh. Breathing became impossible and he knew one of his lungs had been punctured.

Another spark of pain erupted in his hamstring, as if he'd pulled the muscle from the bone. Then his calf sparked with hurt and no longer worked, causing him to fall to the red and green carpet.

Feeling like he was literally coming apart, he didn't give up and attempted to reach for his gun, but it was pinned under his side. He looked down at his legs to see what was happening. The larger creature was roaring like a lion as it worked to tear a chunk of his thigh away. A moment later, it did, pants and all. The thing on his back was still there, stabbing him over and over with its claws, the machine gun like action filling Hendricks with shock waves of agony. He couldn't scream, the ability to draw in air still not happening. The thing on his back continued its onslaught and was now pulling strips of flesh off, along with rib bone. His entire body was on fire, the damage unfixable, he knew. The Velcro-like sounds of his innards being torn out and shredded filled his ears. He was but a fly being eaten alive by the spiders.

He knew he'd never walk again or see his loved ones, let alone take a normal breath. The other side was coming for him. There would be no escape. Death was minutes, maybe seconds, away.

He'd heard about the creature Levy and Keller had killed. He hadn't seen it, but imagined it looked like the ones eating him. He hadn't believed the story at the time, chalking it up to bullshit, for one reason or the other. But now he was a true believer and wished death would come soon.

The Shawn goblin dug away at the man's back, removing the entire spine and rib cage. He'd love to suck on them, eat the nerves, but he was after something more precious at the moment. Something he'd never eaten, but knew he wanted because of the goblin king's influence. Reaching in, the Shawn goblin pulled the lungs free. They were so delicate and shrank as he held them. It was just the air coming out. Opening his wide mouth, he ate one, then the other, savoring the taste as long as he could before seeing another prize. He knew the Eric goblin would fight him over it, so he had to be fast while his brother was still gnawing on the legs. The Shawn goblin wrapped his hand around the heart, still filled with blood, and yanked it out. Crimson liquid squirted from the thing as he brought it to his mouth. Tossing it inside, he chewed. The blood-pumping organ was euphoric, supplying the goblin with a tingling sensation throughout his body. When he glanced back, he saw his brother had eaten all the meat from one leg, leaving only red-speckled bone.

With the lawman dead, he pulled his ravenous brother from the corpse and slapped him across his nose when he fought against him. He reminded him that they were at the finish line and glory awaited them back in the goblin king's lair.

Facing Room Ten, the goblins tried the door and found it was locked.

They knocked.

When no one came to the door, they knocked again.

A few moments later, the goblins' former father opened the door.

Hours passed with no sign of the kidnappers. A few cars had driven by and were stopped up the road and checked. By three A.M., Hale began to lose hope that anyone would come.

“Maybe the kidnappers will show tomorrow night,” Keller said after entering the living room and handing Hale a cup of coffee.

“Maybe,” Hale said, not thinking it to be the case. Something felt off. The kidnappers should've showed. People as crazy as they were didn't give a rat's ass about the law and would stick to their way of doing things. It was odd, because on one hand they were careful and methodic in the way they took the kids, then brazen and chaotic in the way they killed. For the first time, Hale wondered if there were two sets of kidnappers. A set that planned and stole, then another that performed the dirty work.

Thinking more about it, he remembered the green slime being present at the kidnapping sites as well as the killings. He was thinking too much. It was probably a lot simpler than he realized. And as far as the killers not showing up tonight—maybe they knew the house was being watched. His officers were well hidden, but there was the chance one of them had been spotted. He'd instructed them to stay in their positions, gave them food to eat and bottles to piss in. Had someone exited the van for a smoke or to take a leak or shit? If someone had, that person was going to receive an ass reaming.

Either way, it was getting late. A couple of more hours and then they'd stop for the night. Maybe set up again later.

Hale was ready to call it a night, when his radio came to life, shattering the stillness filling the room. It was Sherri, the overnight dispatcher. She sounded frantic.

“This is Hale, go ahead.”

“Chief, you have to get to the hotel. 911 is getting calls saying people are dead. Blood everywhere. And Hendricks isn't answering his radio or phone.”

Hale looked at Keller, both men taking a moment to grasp what they were hearing, then bolted from the home.