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Five Nights at Freddy's_The Silver Eyes

Page 15

by Scott Cawthon

“No one saw Dave,” Charlie said; it was not a question. They all shook their heads. “He must have taken off when the lights started going haywire,” Lamar offered, but he did not sound convinced.

  “Carlton!” Jason cried out again. “Carlton is still in there! Bonnie took him!”

  They all glanced around: Carlton was not with them.

  “Oh, no,” Jessica said. “He’s still inside.”

  “Bonnie took him!” Jason said, choking out the words one by one, his voice shaking. “I saw it, Bonnie was there, he was in Pirate’s Cove and he grabbed Carlton and carried him away, and I couldn’t stop him.” He scrubbed a sleeve across his eyes, wiping tears.

  “Oh, sweetheart,” Marla hugged him, and he clung to her, hiding his face in her shirt. “No, it was a trick of the light. Bonnie couldn’t do that, he’s just a robot. He was onstage when we left.”

  Jason closed his eyes. He had only glanced for a second at the main stage as they were leaving, but it was true: Bonnie had been there, moving in strange and clumsy twists and bends, but stuck in place. He pulled away from his sister’s arms.

  “I saw it,” he insisted, more weakly. “Bonnie took him.”

  The others exchanged glances above his head. Charlie looked at Marla, who shrugged.

  “We have to go back in,” Charlie said. “We have to get him.” Jessica was nodding, but John cleared his throat.

  “I think we need help,” he said. “It’s not safe in there.”

  “Let’s get Carlton’s dad,” Marla said. “I’m not taking Jason back in there.”

  Charlie wanted to protest, but bit her tongue. They were right, of course they were right. Whatever had just happened was beyond them; they needed help.

  Chapter Seven

  They made their way back through the corridors of the abandoned mall, not bothering to be cautious with their footsteps, or the beams of their lights.

  “So much for being sneaky,” Charlie said darkly, but no one responded. By silent consensus their pace quickened steadily; by the time they reached the parking lot they were almost running. Spotting her car as they came out the front door, Charlie felt an almost physical relief to see it, as if it were an old friend.

  “Someone should stay here,” she said, pausing with her hand on the door handle. “We can’t leave Carlton.”

  “No,” Marla said firmly. “We’re leaving, now.” They looked at her in surprise for a moment—suddenly, she was talking to them all the way she talked to Jason. Sister knows best. Lamar and Jason exchanged glances, but no one said anything. “We’re going into town. All of us,” she added, giving Charlie a warning look, “and we’re finding help.”

  They hurried into the cars. As Charlie took the wheel, John got into the passenger seat, and she smiled tightly at him. Jessica climbed into the back a moment later, and she felt a minor disappointment; she had wanted to talk to him alone. We’re running for help, it’s not a date, she scolded herself, but that hadn’t really been the point. He felt safe, a touchstone amid the strange things that were happening all around them. She looked over at him, but he was staring out the window. They pulled out of the lot, following Marla’s car as she sped into the darkness.

  When they reached the town, Marla yanked her car to the side of the main street and stopped, and Charlie followed suit. Before the car had fully come to a halt, Jessica leapt out of the back seat and started running. Marla followed, just a step behind. They stopped in front of the movie theater, and only then did Charlie see that there was a cop in uniform beneath the marquee, leaning back against his black-and-white car. His eyes widened at the sight of the young women barreling toward him, and he took an involuntary step back as Marla started talking without pausing for breath.

  “… Please, you’ve got to come,” Marla was finishing as the others caught up.

  The cop looked a little bewildered. He had a shiny pink face, and his hair was so short it was entirely covered by his hat. He was young, maybe mid-twenties, Charlie realized, and he was looking at them skeptically.

  “Is this an actual emergency?” he said. “You may not realize it, but pranks can get you in real trouble.”

  Jessica rolled her eyes and stepped forward, closing the distance between them.

  “We’re not playing a prank,” she said crisply, and Charlie suddenly remembered how tall she was. “Our friend is trapped in that abandoned shopping mall, and it’s your job to help us.”

  “The shopping mall?” He seemed confused, then looked in the direction they’d come from. “THAT shopping mall?” His eyes widened, then he frowned at them reproachfully, looking remarkably like a disappointed parent despite his youth. “What were you doing up there in the first place?”

  Charlie and Marla exchanged glances, but Jessica didn’t blink.

  “Deal with us later. He’s in danger, and you have to help us, officer—” She leaned in and peered at his nametag. “Officer Dunn. Do you want me to go to the fire department?”

  Despite her fear, Charlie almost laughed. Jessica said it as if she were in a store, threatening to take her business elsewhere. It was so absurd it should have gotten her no more than a puzzled glance, but Dunn reached for his radio hastily.

  “No,” he said. “Hang on.”

  He pressed a button, and the radio emitted a short burst of static. Charlie felt a brief chill at the sound, and as she looked around, she saw John stiffen, and Jason take a tiny step closer to Marla. Not seeming to notice their reactions, Dunn barked incomprehensible sounds into it, talking in cop code, and Charlie suddenly had a flash of memory, of running around the yard, whispering into walkie-talkies with Marla. They could never understand each other on the cheap toys her father had found in the drugstore bargains bin, but they didn’t mind; actual communication was never the point.

  “Charlie, come on!” Jessica shouted at her, and Charlie came back to herself: everyone was heading toward the cars and piling back in. Marla pulled out in front, and the cop followed her, with Charlie bringing up the rear.

  “Why doesn’t he have the siren on?” Jessica said. Her voice was thin and brittle, as if her only choices were a sharp tongue, or tears.

  “He doesn’t believe us,” John said softly.

  “He should have the siren on,” Jessica said, and this time it was almost a whisper. Charlie’s knuckles were white on the steering wheel, as she stared straight ahead at the cop’s red tail lights.

  When they got back to the mall, Jessica dashed ahead, forcing the rest of them to run behind her. Charlie didn’t mind; it felt good to run, purposeful. Lamar was talking to the cop as they ran, shouting over the noise of their thudding feet.

  “The restaurant is all boarded up, but there’s a door left open,” he said, the words broken by his uneven breathing. “Behind the plastic- you move it- dark alley- Carlton smells like feet.” Officer Dunn’s step stuttered briefly, but he regained his stride. When they reached the alley they slowed their pace, moving more cautiously down the narrow hall until they came to the door.

  “Right here,” John said, and Dunn moved forward to help with the shelf. They drew it back too fast, the contents rattling and wobbling. The shelf pitched backward, and tools, cables, and paint cans full of nails crashed to the floor.

  “Ow!” John yelled as a hammer bounced off his foot; they all watched as the things scattered, some rolling away and vanishing down the dark corridor.

  “What!” Jason wailed, and they all looked up from the spill. He was pointing at the door.

  “What is this?” Marla gasped. The door had chains strung across it from top to bottom, three enormous padlocks holding them all together. The links were bolted into the metal frame of the door, and they were heavy, too heavy to cut without special tools. It was all rusty; the whole thing looked as though it had been there for years. Charlie walked up to the door and touched a chain, as if to be sure it was real.

  “This wasn’t here,” she said, the words sounding inane even as she spoke.

  “We hav
e to get him out!” Jason cried haltingly, his hands covering his eyes. “Bonnie is going to kill him, and it’s my fault!”

  “What’s he talking about?” The police officer said, looking at them with renewed suspicion. “Who is Bonnie and why is she going to hurt your friend?”

  “He’s—it’s a robot,” Charlie said quickly. “The robots from Freddy Fazbear’s are still there, and they still work.”

  “Freddy Fazbear’s,” Dunn’s face flushed, and he looked at the door again. “I used to go there as a kid.” He said softly, his tone caught between nostalgia and fear. He caught himself quickly, and cleared his throat.

  “He came to life,” Jason insisted, no longer making the effort to hide his tears. Dunn bent down to his height, his tone softening.

  “What’s your name?” He asked.

  “We have to get him out,” Jason repeated.

  “His name is Jason,” Marla said, and Jason glared at her.

  “Jason,” the cop said. He put a hand on Jason’s shoulder and squatted down to match his height, glancing at the others with an obvious suspicion. He thinks we made him say that, Charlie realized. Jason wriggled in Dunn’s grasp, but the officer did not let him go, looking him in the eye to ask the next question: “Jason, did they tell you to say this? What’s going on here?”

  Irritated, Jason pulled free and took a large step back.

  “That’s what really happened,” He said firmly.

  The officer exhaled, a long, slow vent of frustration, then got to his feet, shedding his kid-friendly act. “So, the robots took your friend,” he said. I know what you’re trying to pull, said his tone.

  “We were in there,” Charlie stated flatly, keeping her voice level, as if saying it calmly and plainly enough might convince him that they were not telling lies. “Our friend didn’t make it out.”

  The officer looked again at the chains.

  “Look,” he said, apparently deciding to give them the benefit of the doubt. “I don’t know how you got in there in the first place, and right now I don’t want to know. But the machinery in there is old, it hasn’t been touched in ten years. Chances are, it’s pretty spooky. Heck, I wouldn’t want to go in there. So even though I can’t blame you for being freaked out, I can guarantee you those robots in there aren’t moving by themselves. That place is dead, and that place needs to be left alone.” he said with a forced chuckle. Jason set his jaw, but didn’t say anything. “I think you all need to go home,” he finished, the statement sounding more like a threat than advice.

  They looked at one another.

  After a moment of uncomfortable silence, Jessica looked to Charlie. “These chains weren’t here before. Right?” She faltered, and looked back at her friends for confirmation, as if she were beginning to doubt her own memory.

  “No,” Charlie said instantly. “They weren’t. We aren’t leaving, and we need your help.”

  “Fine,” Dunn said shortly. “What’s his name?” He said, producing a notebook seemingly from nowhere.

  “Carlton Burke,” Jessica said, and was about to spell it for him, when suddenly the officer put down his pen and closed his eyes, his nostrils flaring.

  The officer glared at them, no longer looking quite so young. “I’m going to give you one more chance. Tell me exactly what happened.” He spoke slowly, emphasizing the spaces between his words. He was in control again, no longer out of his depth, as if he suddenly understood everything.

  They tried to explain all at once, talking over each other. Jessica’s voice was loudest and calmest, but even she could not keep her anxiety from bleeding through. Charlie hung back, quiet. Tell me exactly what happened. Where were they supposed to start? With the night? With the week? With Michael? With the first time her father picked up a circuit board? How was anyone ever to respond to something like, “tell me what happened”? The cop was nodding, and he picked up the radio again, but this time he spoke comprehensibly.

  “Norah, call Burke. It’s his kid. I’m up at the old mall site.” There was an answering burst of static, and the officer turned his attention back to them. “Come on,” he said.

  “Come on where?” John said.

  “Off the property,” the cop said.

  Marla started to protest, but he interrupted. “I’m escorting you off the property,” he said. He pulled the baton from his belt and pointed with it.

  “Come on,” Lamar said. Jason was still staring sullenly at the ground, and Lamar gave him a gentle nudge on the shoulder. “Jason, come on, we have to do what he says now, okay?”

  “But Carlton!” Jason said loudly, and Lamar shook his head.

  “I know. It’s okay, we’ll find him, but we have to go now.” He guided Jason toward the mouth of the alley, and everyone followed. The police officer walked behind, following Charlie a little too closely. She sped up, but so did he, and she resigned herself to being shadowed.

  When they got to the parking lot, he directed them to wait by the car and walked off a few paces, speaking into the radio again, too far away to hear.

  “What’s going on?” Jason said. He was beginning to whine; he heard the tone in his voice and tried to modulate it. I am not a little kid, he reminded himself. No one answered, but Marla rubbed his back absently, and he did not move away. Long minutes passed in silence. Jessica sat on the hood of the car, facing away from the rest of the group. Charlie wanted to go to her, but she did not. In her distress, Jessica was closing down, going stiff and cold and snippy, and Charlie did not think she had what it took, to break through that without breaking down herself.

  “Was he talking about Carlton’s dad?” Charlie asked but no one had time to answer.

  Headlights appeared, and a car pulled in beside them. The man who got out was tall and thin, and his light hair could have been either blond or gray.

  “Carlton’s dad.” Marla whispered, a late answer to Charlie’s question. The man smiled as he approached.

  “Carlton’s dad,” he confirmed. “Though since you’re all grown up now, you’d better call me Clay.” They all muttered it, half in greeting, half just to test it out. Jason covered his mouth self-consciously, tonguing the invisible gap in his molars.

  “I thought our days of mischief would be behind us, no?” Clay said, his expression good-humored.

  Jessica slid off the hood of Charlie’s car, her face drawn.

  “I’m so sorry, he’s missing,” she said tightly. “I don’t know what happened, he was right with us!”

  “Bonnie kidnapped him!” Jason burst out. “I saw, the rabbit took him!”

  Clay started to smile, then stopped himself when he saw their faces.

  “Oh, kids, I’m sorry. You haven’t been around in a while. I’m afraid Carlton is playing a joke on you; ALL of you.”

  “What?” Lamar said.

  “Oh come on, with you guys back in town; he couldn’t resist,” Clay said. “Whatever happened, I guarantee, he set it up. He’ll probably pop out of the bushes any minute now.

  There was a silence, as they all waited, against probability. Nothing happened.

  “Well,” Clay said at last. “That would have been too much to ask! Come on, why don’t you come back to our place; I’ll make you all some hot chocolate, and when Carlton finally shows up, you can tell him he’s grounded!”

  “Okay,” Charlie said, without waiting for the consent of the others. She wanted to believe Clay, wanted to believe that Carlton was all right, and would show up laughing. But almost as badly, she wanted to go somewhere where an adult was in charge, someone who would make hot chocolate and assure them there was no such thing as monsters. Her father had never made that claim. Her father could never have told her that lie.

  No one objected, and so they started up their caravan again, trailing Clay home. They all settled into their accustomed places: Charlie, John and Jessica in Charlie’s car, and Marla, Jason and Lamar in Marla’s. In the rearview mirror Charlie saw Officer Dunn’s car, still right behind them. Is he just
going this way, or is he making sure we go where we’re told? She wondered, but it didn’t really matter. They weren’t planning on flight.

  At Carlton’s house they filed in through the front door. Charlie looked back in time to see the police car, driving on by. He was following us. As they climbed the steps, John leaned in to whisper in her ear.

  “I didn’t realize how rich they were when I was a kid!” He said, and she stifled a laugh. It was true, the house was enormous. It was three stories high, and it sprawled out into the woods that surrounded it, so wide that Charlie thought there must have been whole rooms where all you could see out the window were trees. Clay showed them to the living room, which looked well-used, the furniture mismatched and the rugs dark and durable, the kind that were made to take stains.

  “Carlton’s mom—who you can call Betty now—is asleep,” he said. “The soundproofing is pretty good, just don’t shout or crash around.”

  They chorused promises, and he nodded, satisfied, and vanished through a doorway. They dispersed themselves over the furniture, sitting on couches and chairs. Charlie sat on the rug between Jessica’s chair and Lamar’s. She wanted them all to stay close together. John sat down beside her and gave a little smile.

  “Did we get pranked?” Marla asked.

  “I guess, maybe. I’m not sure what else would explain it,” Jessica said listlessly, staring into the empty fireplace. “I mean, none of us even knows each other that well, not really, maybe he would do something like that.” They all shifted uncomfortably. It was true; they had been behaving as if their time apart were just a little break, as if they could just fill each other in on what they had been up to, and then it would be just like it was. As if their group had never split up. But ten years was too long for it to be true, and deep down, everyone knew it. Charlie darted her eyes at John. She felt a little embarrassed, but she could not have expressed why.

  Clay came back in, carrying a tray of steaming mugs, and a bag of little marshmallows.

  “Here you are!” He said jovially, “hot chocolate for everyone, even me.” He set the tray down on the coffee table and took a seat in a battered green armchair that seemed to fit him like a coat, as accustomed to his body as he was to its form. They reached forward and took the cups; only Jason reached for the marshmallows. Clay looked around from face to face.

 

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