“Don’t computers already know language?” John called.
“Well, yeah,” Charlie said as she returned to the room. She looked at John. His face had changed, stripped down to something more adult. But she could still see him as he’d been the year before, captivated as he watched her old mechanical toys. I can tell him.
But then a look of alarm crossed John’s face. He surged forward to her bed, stopping a few inches from it. He pointed.
“Is that Theodore’s head?” he asked carefully.
“Yeah,” Charlie said. She walked to the windows and peeped through the blinds, trying to spot Jessica’s car.
“So you have been to the house?”
“No. Well, yeah. I went back once,” she confessed. “To get him.” She looked back at John guiltily.
He shook his head. “Charlie, you don’t have to explain yourself,” he said. “It’s your house.” He grabbed the chair from her desk and sat down. “Why did you take him apart?”
She studied his face worriedly, wondering if he was already asking himself the next, obvious question: What if it runs in the family?
“I wanted to see how he worked,” Charlie said. She spoke carefully, feeling like she had to appear as rational as possible. “I would have taken Stanley and Ella, too, but, you know.”
“They’re bolted to the floor?”
“Pretty much, yeah. So I took Theodore; I’m actually using some of his components in my project.” Charlie looked down at the disembodied bunny’s head, into its blank glass eyes. Took him apart. Using his component parts. That sounds rational.
She had gotten Theodore from her father’s house just before school began. Jessica hadn’t been home. It was early evening, not quite dark, and Charlie had smuggled Theodore inside her backpack. She took him out, set him on the bed, and pressed the button to make him talk. As before, there was nothing but a strangled sound: “—ou—lie,” the scrambled, decayed traces of her father’s voice. Charlie had felt a pang of anger at herself for even trying.
“You sound pretty awful,” she said harshly to Theodore, who just looked up at her blankly, immune to the reprimand. Charlie rifled through her bag of tools and parts, which hadn’t yet taken over her side of the room. She found her utility knife, then went grimly to her bed where the bunny waited.
“I’ll put you back together when I’m done.” Right.
She looked up at John now, saw the doubt on his face. Or maybe it was concern, just like Jessica. “Sorry, I know everything’s a mess,” she said, hearing the edge in her own voice. “Maybe I’m a mess, too,” she added quietly. She set the bunny’s head down on her pillow, and the part of his leg beside it. “So, do you still want to see my project?” she asked.
“Yes.” He smiled reassuringly and followed her to her desk. Charlie hesitated, looking down at the pillowcase. Just a dream.
“So,” she said nervously. Charlie carefully switched everything on before unveiling the faces. Lights began to blink and fans began to whir. She glanced at John again, and took off the cloth.
The faces moved in little patterns, as if stretching out after waking, though there was little they could stretch. Charlie swallowed nervously.
You, me, said the first one, and Charlie heard John make a surprised sound behind her.
Me, said the second. Charlie held her breath, but they fell silent.
“Sorry, they usually say more,” Charlie said. She grabbed a small object from the table and held it up: it was an oddly shaped piece of clear plastic with wiring inside. John frowned for a moment.
“Is that a hearing aid?” he asked, and Charlie nodded enthusiastically.
“It used to be. It’s something I’m experimenting with: they listen all the time, they pick up everything that’s said around them, but they’re just collecting data, not interacting with it. They can only interact with each other.” She paused, waiting for a sign that John understood. He nodded, and she went on. “I’m still working out the kinks, but this thing should make the person wearing it … visible to them. Not literally visible, I mean—they can’t see—but they’ll recognize the person wearing the device as one of them.” She looked expectantly at John.
“Why … What does that mean?” he asked, seeming to search for words. Charlie closed her hand on the earpiece, frustrated. He doesn’t understand.
“I made them. I want to interact with them,” she said. His expression grew thoughtful, and she looked away, suddenly regretting having shown him the object. “Anyway, it’s not really finished.” She edged to the door and glanced out.
“It’s really cool,” John called after her. When Charlie returned from the hallway, he gave her an odd look. “Is everything okay?”
“Yes. You should go, though. You’ll be late for work.” Charlie approached the faces. She looked down thoughtfully at her creations, then sighed and reached for the pillowcase to cover them. As she did, the second face moved.
It jerked back on its stand and pivoted, locking its blind eyes on Charlie’s. She stared back. It was like looking at a statue; the eyes were only raised bumps in the molded plastic. But Charlie swallowed hard, feeling herself rooted to the spot. She studied the blank gaze until John put a hand on her shoulder. She jumped, startling him as well, then looked down at the earpiece in her hand. “Oh, right,” Charlie mumbled, and pressed the tiny power button on the side of it. She placed the earpiece carefully on top of the mess in her desk drawer, then closed the drawer. The face was still for a moment, then it slowly turned back to its place. It settled there, locked in a mirrored stare with its double, as if it had never moved at all. Charlie covered them and switched them off, leaving them with only enough power to listen.
At last she looked up at John. “Sorry!” she said.
“Does that mean no to breakfast?”
“I have plans this morning,” Charlie said. “Me and Jessica. You know, girl stuff.”
“Really?” John said quietly. “Girl stuff? You?”
“Yes! Girl stuff!” Jessica squealed as she entered the room excitedly. “Shopping; I finally convinced Charlie it’s worth trying on her clothes before she buys them. We might even move past jeans and boots! Are you ready?”
“Ready!” Charlie smiled, and John squinted at her.
Jessica began escorting him gently out the door. “Right,” John said. “I’ll see you later then, Charlie?” Charlie didn’t respond, but Jessica gave a bright smile as she closed the door behind him.
“So.” Jessica clasped her hands. “Where do you want to start today?”
* * *
When they got to the parking lot of the abandoned mall, it was early afternoon.
“Charlie, this isn’t what I had in mind,” Jessica cried as they got out of the car. Charlie started for the entrance, but Jessica didn’t follow. When Charlie turned, she was leaning against the car with her arms crossed.
“What are we doing here?” Jessica asked, her eyebrows raised.
“We have to look inside,” Charlie said. “People’s lives might depend on it. I just want to see if there is anything left of Freddy’s, then we can go.”
“Whose lives depend on it? And why now, suddenly?” Jessica asked.
Charlie looked at her shoes. “I just want to see,” she said. She felt like a petulant child, but she couldn’t bring herself to tell Jessica the whole story.
“Is this because John is here?” Jessica asked suddenly, and Charlie looked up, surprised.
“What? No.”
Jessica sighed and uncrossed her arms. “It’s okay, Charlie. I get it. You haven’t seen him since all of this happened, and then he shows up again—of course it brings everything back.”
Charlie nodded, gratefully latching on to this rationale. It was easier than hiding the truth from her. “I doubt there’s much left, anyway,” she said. “I just want to walk through and remind myself that—”
“That it’s really over?” Jessica finished. She smiled, and Charlie’s heart sank.
&
nbsp; It’s really, really not over. She forced a smile. “Something like that.”
Charlie walked quickly through the mall, but Jessica lagged behind. The place felt entirely different. Sunlight poured in through massive gaps in the unfinished walls and ceiling. Shafts of light sifted between smaller cracks and splashed against stacks of concrete slabs. Charlie could see moths—maybe butterflies—hovering at the windows, and as they passed through the empty halls on their way to Freddy’s, she could hear birds chirping. The deathly quiet she remembered, the overpowering sense of dread, was gone. Yet, Charlie thought as she glanced at the half-constructed storefronts, it still felt haunted, maybe even more than before. It was a different kind of haunting, not frightening. But Charlie had the sense that something was present, like stepping onto hallowed ground.
“Hello,” Charlie said softly, not sure whom she was addressing.
“Do you hear something?” Jessica slowed her pace.
“No. It feels smaller.” Charlie gestured at the open mouths of the never-opened department stores, and the end of the hall ahead of them. “It seemed so intimidating last time.”
“It actually seems kind of peaceful.” Jessica spun in place, enjoying the air from outside, which was flowing freely through the empty spaces.
Jessica followed Charlie through the doorway and they stopped dead, blinded by bright sunlight. Freddy’s had been torn apart. Some of the walls still stood—the far end looked almost intact—but in front of her was a field of debris. Old bricks and broken tiles were strewn in the dirt.
The two of them stood now on a slab of concrete that lay baking in the sun. The passage inward, along with the entire side wall of the restaurant, was gone. The walls and ceiling were just a line of rubble against the trees. The concrete walkway was still there, worn dark by years of dank and leaking pipes.
“So much for Freddy’s,” Jessica said in a hushed voice, and Charlie nodded.
They made their way through the debris. Charlie could make out where the main dining room had been, but everything was gone. The tables and chairs, the checkered cloths, and the party hats had all been removed. The merry-go-round had been ripped out, leaving nothing but a hole in the floor and some stray wires. The stage itself had been assaulted, though not removed. They must have been in the middle of that when the job was stopped. Boards were torn up across the main stage area, and the left-hand set of stairs was gone. What was left of the wall behind the stage broke off at the top, like jagged mountains along the sky.
“Are you okay?” Jessica looked to Charlie.
“Yeah. It’s not what I expected, but I’m okay.” She thought for a moment. “I want to see what’s still here.” Charlie gestured to the stage, and they crossed what was left of the dining area. The floorboards cracked, the linoleum torn. Jessica peered under a pile of rock where arcade machines had been. The consoles that had stood like dusty gravestones were gone, but they could see the outlines of each one. Square patches remained where they’d been torn from their posts. Stray wires huddled in small piles in the corners. Charlie turned her attention back to the main stage. She climbed up to where the animatronic animals had once performed.
“Careful!” Jessica cried. Charlie nodded an absent acknowledgment. She stood to one side, remembering the layout. This is where Freddy stood. The boards were torn up in front of her and in two more places—the destruction here was where they had taken out the pivoting plates that bolted the mascots to the stage. Not that they stayed bolted very long, Charlie thought wryly. She could see it now if she closed her eyes. The animals were going through their programmed motions, faster and faster, until it was clear they were out of control. Moving wildly, as if they were afraid. They were rocking on their stands, and then the awful sound of cracking wood as Bonnie lifted his bolted foot and tore himself free of the stage.
Charlie shook her head, trying to rid herself of the image. She made her way to the back of the stage. The lights were all gone, but a skeleton of exposed beams crisscrossed the open sky where the lights had been.
“Jessica!” she called. “Where are you?”
“Down here!”
She followed the sound of the girl’s voice. Jessica was crouched in the place where the control room had been, peering into the gap under the stage.
“Nothing?” Charlie asked, not sure what answer she was hoping for.
“It’s been gutted,” Jessica said. “No monitors, nothing.” Charlie climbed down beside her, and they peered in together.
“This is where we were trapped last time,” Jessica said quietly. “Me and John; there was something at the door, and the lock caught. I thought we would be stuck in that little room and …” She looked at Charlie, who simply nodded. The horrors of that night were unique to each of them. The moments that beset them in their sleep, or assailed their thoughts without warning in the middle of the day, were private.
“Come on,” Charlie said abruptly, heading again toward the mound of rubble where more games had been. Charlie crouched under a large slab that leaned to the side and acted as a doorway to what was left of the place.
“This seems dangerous.” Jessica tiptoed over the loose rock.
The floor was still covered in carpet in most places, and Charlie could see the deep grooves where the arcade machine had been. She hurled herself at the console, and somehow, it was enough. It wobbled on its base, then fell, knocking Foxy to the ground and pinning him there. She ran, but he was too quick: he caught her by the leg and ripped his hook right through her; she screamed, staring down at the snapping, twisted metal jaws, and the burning, silver eyes. She heard a noise, almost a whimper, and realized it was her. She clapped her hands over her mouth.
“I thought we were all going to die,” Jessica whispered.
“Me too,” Charlie said. They looked at each other for a moment, an eerie stillness settling over the sunlit wreckage.
“Hey, this place is probably going to fall on us soon, so …” Jessica broke the silence, gesturing to the leaning slabs of concrete surrounding them. Charlie crawled back out the way they’d come and stood up. Her knees were crawling with pins and needles. She rubbed them, then stomped the ground.
“I want to check the costume room, see if anything is left,” Charlie said without expression.
“You mean to see if anybody is left?” Jessica shook her head.
“I have to know.” Charlie gave her jeans a final brush and started off toward it.
The room stuck out of the rubble, alone and intact. It was the place where the costumes had been kept, and where Carlton had briefly been held prisoner. Charlie cautiously poked her head inside, studying the physical details around her: the chipped paint on the wall, the carpet that someone had begun to tear up but left unfinished. Don’t think about last time. Don’t think about what happened here. She let her eyes adjust a moment longer, then went inside.
The room was empty. They did a cursory search, but everything had been removed—there was nothing left but walls, floor, and ceiling.
“Clay did say they had gotten rid of everything,” Charlie said.
Jessica gave her a sharp look. “Clay? When?”
“He said he was going to, I mean,” Charlie said hastily, covering the slip. “Last year.”
They took a final look around. As they were leaving, Charlie spotted a glint of light from something in the corner. It was the plastic eyeball of some unknown animatronic mascot. Charlie was about to go to it, but stopped herself. “There’s nothing here,” she said.
Not waiting for Jessica, she headed back through the debris, looking down at her feet as she stepped over bricks and stones and shattered glass.
“Hey, wait,” Jessica called after her hastily. “Pirate’s Cove. Charlie! Look!” Charlie stopped. She watched Jessica as she climbed over a steel beam and stepped carefully over the remains of a fallen wall. In front of her, a curtain lay strewn across what had appeared to be a pile of rubble. Charlie followed her, and when she caught up she could se
e that the curtain concealed a gap in the ruins. The tops of a few glittering chairs peeked out from the stones. A row of broken stage lights lay across the top of the curtain, as though holding it in place.
“It looks pretty good, compared to the rest of the place,” Jessica said. Charlie didn’t answer. There was a dirty poster lying flat on the ground, depicting a cartoonish Foxy delivering pizzas to happy children.
“Jessica, look.” Charlie pointed to the ground.
“Those look like claw marks,” Jessica said after a moment.
There were long scratches and scrapes running the length of the floor, and dark marks that looked like traces of blood. “It’s like someone was being dragged.” Jessica stood and followed the scratches. They led behind the curtain, away from the area where Pirate’s Cove once stood.
“The stage,” Jessica said.
When they moved the curtain aside, they found the stage had a small hatch at the back. “Storage,” Charlie murmured. She pulled on it, but the hatch wouldn’t open.
“There has to be a latch somewhere,” Jessica said. She cleared away dirt and broken wood from the base of the stage, uncovering a deadbolt that went into the floor. She pulled it up, releasing the door, which swung open like something was pushing against it.
A face lurched out of the darkness, two gaping eyes swinging forward. Jessica screamed and fell backward. Charlie recoiled. The masked face hung lifelessly from a rotted fur costume. An entire mascot suit was inside, crammed into a space much too small for it. Charlie stopped, her whole body numb with shock as she stared at the thing with a dread almost as old as she was. “The yellow rabbit,” she whispered.
The Twisted Ones Page 6
