Toy Cemetery

by William W. Johnstone

  “Did you get all that, Nick?” Shari stood up.

  “I sure hope so.”

  A loud buzzing became louder. The group looked up into the dark sky. They could just make out about a dozen model airplanes soaring above them. Nick turned on his lights and got as much of it as he could. The planes dipped their wings in an airman’s salute.

  “Incredible,” Eric muttered. “And brave.” He saluted the flyers as they buzzed on into the night.

  “Let’s go find the enemy,” Stoner said. “We have a long night ahead of us.”

  “You’re not going to survive it.” The voice came from behind them.

  Jay knew them all. Or, he mentally corrected, he had once known them. His eyes singled out a former classmate.

  “John Gordon Brown?”

  “Yes.”

  A dozen more men arid women stood behind John Gordon.

  “Come to kill me, John?”

  “Of course.” The man’s voice was flat and monotone.

  Jay lifted his shotgun and blew the man into dust and plaster and porcelain.

  Another leaped at Jim, wrapping his slick arms and legs around the man. He could not have weighed more than thirty or forty pounds, but Jim could not dislodge him. The man was biting at Jim’s face, drawing blood as he inflicted tiny cuts from teeth that seemed soft and pliable.

  It was a disgusting feeling.

  Jim worked one hand under the man’s chin and shoved hard. The head popped off, but the arms and legs continued to be as strong as before.

  Amy struck at the man with a stick, feeling the back shatter under the blow. She hit him again, and the man broke in two parts, one arm falling to the road.

  Stoner was struggling with a man and a woman. The little doctor knocked the woman’s head off, and she went stumbling off into the darkness, lurching and running into the cars.

  Stoner hit the man a solid blow in the belly with his fist. The fist drove all the way through the plaster and porcelain, and Stoner’s arm was stuck. The man began biting the doctor on the face. Shari picked up a rock and bashed the man’s head in, splitting the empty skull. She beat at the man’s back until it shattered into dust. Stoner pulled his arm free.

  The doctor stood panting. “Let’s break into that big hardware store downtown; get some of those hand-held blowtorches. You know the kind I mean. Fire should destroy the damnable things.”

  * * *

  The group encountered no human being as they kicked in the door to the hardware store. Inside, they took every portable burner they could find. And in the sporting goods section, Stoner cried out happily. He had found a compound bow. He filled a quiver with hunting arrows.

  “What else is this night going to bring?” Nick questioned, his voice shaky.

  Jay glanced at the young man. “The end, I hope.”

  “But for whom?” Shari asked.

  No one chose to reply to that.

  The group stepped out of the store onto the sidewalk. “I know now what’s been bothering me,” Eric said. “All the streetlights are out.”

  There did not appear to be a light burning anywhere in the town.

  “What’s that ... thing in the gutter?” Shari pointed across the street. “Right there.”

  They walked across the deserted and darkened street.

  “Do you know him, Amy?” Jay asked, rolling the dead man over on his back.

  “His name is Ralph something. He works . . . worked for the city. What happened to him? God, look at his face!”

  The dead man’s face was horribly twisted, the lips pulled back in a hideous grimace. His eyes were wide open and bugged out.

  Stoner quickly inspected the man by the glow of flashlights. “There isn’t a mark on him. If I had to take a guess, I’d say he was scared to death.”

  Eric shone the beam from the heavy flashlight he’d taken from the hardware store into the small city park. “And look over there.”

  A man and woman lay facedown on the ground. By a park bench.

  Weapons at the ready, the group walked from the street to the park. The dead man’s left hand was clenched into a white, tight-knuckled fist. The woman’s dress was hiked up past her hips. Her legs were spread wide.

  “The human animals are on the prowl,” Jim remarked. “Whatever control that . . . old god had, I think he’s . . . it’s losing it.”

  “Daddy!” Kelly’s small voice rang out clear in the night. “Help me, Daddy. Please, Daddy?”

  “At the edge of the park, near the street,” Amy told him. “She appears to be alone.”

  “There is no help for her, Jay,” Eric said softly. “None at all. Please believe that.”

  “I know.”

  “Mr. Clute,” Jenny called from the other end of the park. “I’m here with Mommy. We need your help.”

  “Oh, Jay,” Piper called. “We need your help, Jay. Please help us.”

  A strong resolve filled Jay. He sighed and called to the darkness. “I put it all together, Piper. How’s your doll collection back in the city?”

  Her laughter chilled them all. “Quite well, Jay. I should imagine they’re moving around the apartment building.”

  Just the thought of that caused Jay’s stomach to turn over. “Doing their . . . thing, Piper?”

  “But of course. You see, I gave them all away before I left. To all the little girls in the building. Wasn’t that nice of me, Jay?”

  “Just peachy, Piper. You’re a swell person.”

  “Monstrous,” Stoner whispered. “If that’s the case, all the toys that have been shipped out of this area . . . they’re all over the world!”

  “I can hear quite well, little man.” Deva’s voice reached them. “And you’re quite right. So you see, your fighting us is useless.”

  Jay stepped away from the group, silently thumbing his shotgun off safety.

  “Jay! ...” Shari whispered hoarsely.

  “Stay back!” Jay whispered. “Let me handle this my way.”

  Jay spotted the faint outline of Deva, standing near a park entrance. “So I guess you have a deal for me, Deva?” he called.

  “Join us. It’s your only chance, Jay.”

  Jay took another step toward her; he was unsure as to the range of the shotgun. He took another step. A couple of more yards should do it.

  “I want Jenny,” Jay called, trying to put a conviction that he did not feel into his voice.

  “You can have her, Jay. You can have anything you want. You can rebuild the power. With you and Kelly together, we’ll be stronger than ever.”

  She moved toward him.

  She was standing away from any obstacle, in the clear; but Jay was still uncertain about the range.

  From behind him, Jay heard a soft twang and a faint hissing sound.

  Deva grunted and stumbled back, sitting down hard on the sidewalk. Something was sticking out of her stomach.

  An arrow.

  She screamed as her fingers slowly moved up the shaft to touch the feathered end of the hunting arrow. One hand moved behind her. “I can’t move my legs!” she screamed.

  “Mommy!” Jenny wailed, and began running toward the woman. The girl carried a knife in her hand.

  “Goddamn you, Jay!” Piper howled, her voice animal-like in the night.

  Jenny changed directions and paused for just a second; just long enough to hurl the knife at Jay. Instinctively, he threw up his left hand. The knife sliced his hand, the point driving clear through.

  “Run, baby!” Deva called. “Get clear.”

  The girl disappeared into the night.

  Deva lay back on the sidewalk, her blood creating a dark puddle around her.

  “Piper and Kelly are gone!” Jim called. “But we’re surrounded by others.”

  Deva laughed painfully. “We’ll win.” She coughed out the words. “One way or the other. We always do.”

  Stoner’s bow twanged again. A grunt of pain was heard. A man staggered out of the darkness and into the small park. An ar
row stuck out of his chest. He sat down, his back to a tree, and died.

  “The house!” Jay called. “Get to the house.” His left hand was useless. He tried firing the sawed-off one-handed, but couldn’t maintain his grip on the weapon. He lost it, and it clattered on the ground.

  But the single blast had knocked a woman sprawling.

  Jay pulled out his pistol and charged toward the street. A man jumped out of the evil ink and brought Jay down. Jay shoved the muzzle of the mag against the man’s belly and pulled the trigger. With a howl of pain, the man rolled free.

  His left hand bleeding and hurting, Jay jumped to his feet and ran toward the street. He literally ran over a howling, wild-eyed woman, knocking her sprawling. He ran for his car. “Not the house!” he called. “No, forget the house. Head for the Madison Street Church. Let’s see if they’ll attack their own place of worship.”

  * * *

  Reverend Freemond was poised over the communion table, a knife in his hand. The knife dripped blood, and the minister was splattered with gore. What was left of a young girl was lying on the black-draped table. He turned, a startled look in his eyes as Jim kicked open the door. The surprised look died as the trooper shot the man twice in the chest with his pistol.

  Jay walked to the naked, bloody and mangled girl. Bile filled his throat at the sight of the tortured little body. He touched her neck, seeking a pulse. But the child was cold in death.

  Stoner jerked down a drape. Nick was filming the awful sight. Stoner gently covered the girl with a drape.

  Eric smashed out a stained glass window and took a guard position, facing the street. “Someone out there!” he called.

  “Jay? Jay Clute. Can you hear me, Jay?”

  Roper Smith.

  “Yeah, I hear you, Roper. What do you want?”

  “We’ve got to band together, Jay. It’s all gone haywire.”

  “What the hell are you talking about, Roper?” Jay yelled.

  “You burned the old Clute place, Jay?”

  “I sure did.” Stoner was wrapping Jay’s hand as the man talked.

  “You stupid fool!” Roper screamed. “You’ve turned loose the evil. The house was part of the control.”

  “Like the clock?”

  “Yes!”

  “You got a problem, Roper. Sorry, but I can’t help you with it.” Jay thought for a moment. “The Old One, Roper . . . it feeds off of people like you, doesn’t it?”

  “Yes, yes!” the man screamed. All could tell he was badly frightened.

  “Listen to me, Jay!” The voice belonged to Hec Smalling. “We’re all trapped in here. The kids and the doll people; your wife and kid, Deva and her kid . . . they’re on one side. You’re on the other. And we’re caught up in the middle.”

  Jim cut off all the inside light, enabling them to better see. Stoner moved to an open window and studied his immediate area. He lifted the bow and pulled back, letting the arrow fly.

  A scream cut the night. “Oh, no! My hip, my hip. It hurts!”

  “My aim was off,” Stoner said. “I was aiming for his stomach.”

  The wounded man began screaming in pain and terror.

  “Jay!” Hec called. “Jay! You people are the only chance we got. You gotta help us, man.”

  “Don’t let them kids get us, Jay,” Allison Smith’s voice added. “They’re vicious. Together, we can beat them and get out of here.”

  “I’d rather take my chances with the devil!” Jay shouted. “What’s the matter, Allison? I thought you people loved the devil.”

  She cursed him, loudly and very profanely.

  A curious humming sound emanated from the otherwise quiet night. The humming was accompanied by a dry, rustling sort of noise. Like a breeze blowing through very dry and dead leaves.

  “Get them all!” a boy’s voice called. His voice was cold and deadly.

  “Kill them, quickly.”

  Those who lined the smashed windows of the darkened church could see long knives flashing in the moonlight. The blades angled downward, shiny; they returned dripping crimson, thick and wet and dark in the night.

  Shari did not see the arm thrust through a smashed window; the form that slithered through and crept up behind her. Something primal in her brain warned her. She turned and began shrieking.

  7

  “Get it off me!” Shari screamed.

  Jay turned, and through the darkness could see the deformed outline of what had been described as a breeder from the hospital complex. Remembering how the creatures feared light, Jay jerked a three-cell flashlight out of his back pocket with his left hand and painfully thumbed the switch.

  The beam, fresh and strong with new batteries, caught the deformed part human in its harshness. The creature flung Shari to one side and charged the light, madness gleaming in its little, close-set eyes.

  Jay centered his pistol sights on the naked chest of the grotesque being and pulled the trigger, firing one-handed. The slug struck the creature in the throat, tearing away the left side of the neck, spinning the being around on its bare feet and sending it tumbling back into darkness.

  The hideous being flopped on the floor and coughed out its life.

  Once human beings, now in their hollow doll forms, began assaulting the church, crawling in through the broken windows. The hand-held burners were ignited, the hissing lines of flame glowing blue in the darkness of the church.

  The flames touched the plaster and porcelain shapes, burning great holes, setting the clothing burning. They fell back outside, running torches in the bloody night.

  Eric’s burner hissed and ran out of fuel. He jerked a man inside, through the window, the arm separating from the shoulder with the sudden movement. The man struck a pew and burst open. The arm swung upward, the fingers closing around Eric’s throat.

  Eric gripped the arm with both hands, squeezing until the arm shattered under his grip. But the fingers refused to loosen their hold on his throat.

  Eric fell backward, the fingers digging into his throat, punching holes in his neck, the fingers working deeper into the flesh. Blood poured from the puncture wounds.

  As the big man fell against a shattered window, a youth grabbed him and jerked him outside, into the blood-smeared darkness. They hit the ground, fighting.

  Eric managed to pull his pistol and shoot the young man before he was overpowered by others and hacked to death with the bloody knives.

  Adult dolls swarmed into the church, climbing awkwardly in through the windows, coming in through the back door.

  Amy fought with a woman, the woman clawing and biting the young woman on her face and arms. Amy worked her fingers up to the woman’s eyes and jammed them into the sockets, digging out the bright doll eyes.

  The woman screamed as sight left her. She staggered around the dark interior of the church. Amy picked up a rifle and smashed the butt onto the woman’s head, exploding the hollowness.

  Headless, the woman lurched about until Stoner picked her up and threw her outside. She exploded on the dewy ground.

  And Nick’s mini-cam continued to record the horror.

  Stoner directed the flame from his burner into a knot of silent hollow people and wedged up in a window. They ignited and melted into one.

  Jim stood by a window, the .45s taken from General Douglas barking and sparking in the night.

  The screaming of Hec and his friends had faded.

  A thudding began at the double front doors of the church. The door buckled, and the foyer became filled with naked hideousness.

  “Run!” a young voice called from the outside. “The breeders are loose and out of control.”

  “Let’s go!” Jim shouted. “Out the back. Toss your burners on the floor. Set the damn place on fire!”

  The carpet was blazing within seconds, and the smell of charring wood soon followed. Those that were left ran out the back, through backyards, and up onto the porch of a darkened home.

  They could all smell the smoke that was billowing o
ut of the church. And they could hear the roaring of those godless creatures trapped inside the inferno.

  Jay cautiously pushed open the back door and looked inside.

  The kitchen was empty. Jim walked through the dark room, into the small dining room, and stepped into the den. A man and woman were sitting on the couch, in the dark.

  “Move and you’re dead!” Jim told the couple.

  Neither man nor woman moved or acknowledged the order. He moved closer, the pistol in his right hand, hammer back. He touched the woman on the neck.

  The woman was cold in death and so was the man.

  Stoner stepped forward and quickly inspected the couple. “No marks or wounds that I can find. I don’t know what killed them.”

  “What now?” Amy asked. Her face was scratched and bloody from clawing and biting.

  Before anyone could reply, a buzzing sound was heard over their heads. “The model airplanes,” Jim said, looking up.

  A sudden booming rocked the night.

  “That didn’t sound like a gunshot,” Stoner said.

  “More like a powerful firecracker.” Shari walked to a window and looked out as booming and flashes sparked the night. “Those are M-eighties.”

  “Firecrackers?” Stoner asked. He smiled. “The little ones are having a bombing run.”

  More loud explosions ripped the night.

  A sharp pain jabbed at Stoner’s right ankle. Looking down, he yelled in fright and surprise. The floor was covered with little dolls, soldiers, and clowns, all of them grinning savagely, and all of them armed with long pins and needles, fish hooks, tiny knives, and swords. One of them jabbed Stoner again, drawing blood.

  Stoner kicked out and became nauseous as he felt living flesh tear and living bones break under the toe of his shoe.

  The others were dancing about, ducking and dodging and trying to avoid the evil little people.

  Hordes of screaming and cursing tiny figures were scampering through windows and across the floor of the house. They screamed out their hate and rage in ugly-sounding tiny voices.

  “God, forgive me,” Jim muttered, as he lowered the muzzle of his shotgun and began pulling the trigger.

  Bits and bloody pieces of little people were sent flying, bouncing and splattering all over the dark rooms of the house of the dead couple.