Fright Squad

by Flint Maxwell

  “Fine,” Maddie said, “don’t call SOD. But you’re not going alone. We’re going with you.”

  “We are?” Zack said, practically jumping.

  “Yes,” Maddie answered.

  “Oh, man,” Zack mumbled. Maddie punched him. “Ow! I mean— Fine! We are!”

  “No,” I said. “This is my fight.”

  “You can’t be serious, Abe,” Maddie said. “We are a trio, we’re the—”

  “Demon Dudes!” Zack said.

  “No, that one sucks,” Maddie said.

  I agreed, while seeing there was no changing Maddie’s mind and, by proxy, Zack’s mind about the coming along part.

  “Damn,” Zack said. “Slaughter Society?”

  “Nah,” I said, smiling. It was good to have friends like them, good to have people who had your back.

  “If we’re doing this then we’ll need to load up on weapons,” Maddie said. “We can’t go in empty-handed.”

  She was right, of course, like always.

  “Are you thinking what I’m thinking?” I asked.

  “No,” Zack said. “You can’t be serious. I don’t want to deal with those SOD douchebags again.”

  “We have to,” I said. “If we’ll have any chance of getting out of Helltown with Lola and Storm.” I neglected to say: And killing Doctor Blood.

  We left the hospital in the SUV. The backseat was pretty much ruined by Octavius’s blood loss, but that was the least of our worries. It was a rental, anyway.

  Once I’d calmed down, I realized I was feeling a lot better than before. More levelheaded.

  HQ was swarming, though, and when I saw Agent Dickhead and Asshole walking around the wreckage any chance of good feelings flittered away.

  “Hey!” Agent Lorne said. He was smoking a cigarette outside of the empty building above our HQ, standing right next to a NO SMOKING sign. Other agents were streaming by, so were forensic specialists in their white jumpsuits, and a few of Akron’s finest cops. They’d shut down the street under order of SOD. We’d passed a few college students trying to get a better look, but they’d had the red-rimmed eyes and sloppy appearance of frat boys and sorority girls, drunk off their butts.

  “Violation!” I shouted and pointed at Lorne’s cigarette.

  He acted like he hadn’t heard me and continued talking. “Sorry, my friends, SOD business now,” he said. “We’re taking over.”

  From the open garage door Dalton shouted. She had a shrill voice I would’ve recognized anywhere. I moved around to get a better look.

  The elevator dinged behind her and two men in BEAST windbreakers with SOD badges around their necks carted out a covered body. The sheet was soaked through with blue-blood. As they went over the threshold, the stretcher jumped and a fat, slimy tentacle fell out and slapped on the tile. One of the men kicked it up with the toe of his shoe and blue juices sprayed up onto the concrete support columns.

  “Whoops,” the agent said.

  I shook my head. SOD, I thought.

  “We just need to get some stuff from our lockers,” Maddie said.

  “Sorry, not happening. This place is condemned,” Lorne said. “We sent the other agents home. You should do the same. Back to your mommies!” He leaned forward and put his hand to the side of his mouth in a mock whisper. “Anyway, between you and I, we’re probably shutting this tin shit-can down.”

  I lunged slightly, but Zack had sensed my anger before I could act on it and he held me back.

  That was out of character for me. I was never the hotheaded one. I was usually the one holding Zack back. Oh, how the tables had turned, I thought.

  “Got a mess down here, Lorne. You gonna stand up there and chit-chat all day or you gonna earn your paycheck?” Dalton shouted.

  Lorne sucked down a gulp of smoke, threw the cigarette down on the ground, and crushed it out with his boot, leaving a smear of soot on the asphalt. Then he exhaled and the cloud was rancid in our faces. I clutched my hand into a fist, ready to swing. I didn’t have time for this rudeness, and if anyone had ever deserved a punch it was this ass-hat.

  But there was Zack, holding me. Again.

  Maddie waved away the cloud and her body hitched as she coughed. I knew she wasn’t a fan of cigarettes; her favorite aunt had smoked herself to death. She kept her cool, though. I don’t know how, but she did.

  “See you, kiddos,” Lorne said, spinning on his heels, and leaving us standing there as agents and forensic team members streamed out with more stretchers. At least we didn’t have to clean up the mess we made. I thought of myself madly swinging that sword, hacking through tentacles and the monsters’ limbs. It was quite a mess.

  As the doors began closing on the elevator Lorne stood in, he said, “Oh, I’ll be needing to interview you guys soon.”

  “Burn in hell,” I said under my breath and I wished I had said it louder. The doors closed and Agent Lorne disappeared.

  Thankfully.

  But we weren’t getting into the HQ yet. We’d have to wait until they finished up, but who knew how long that would be.

  “Come on,” Maddie was saying. She pulled Zack and he pulled me. The air was cold; a heavy stink of death hung around the building.

  Of course, there went our chances of getting weapons. I shouldn’t have expected anything less.

  Still, when there’s a will, there’s a way…

  Just how? How would we get in there without being noticed?

  I didn’t think we could.

  “We don’t have time for this,” I said, thinking about Lola and Storm. “We have to move.”

  “And go in weaponless?” Maddie said. “That’s crazy.”

  “It’s crazy no matter which way you cut it,” Zack said. “I mean…Helltown. That place is cursed. But I’m down to go whenever. I’ll fight with my fists if I have to.”

  “It’s all bull, the curses,” I said, but I knew better. The official word was that Helltown, originally known as the area called Boston Township in Ohio, had been evacuated by the government to expand the national parks. Once all the citizens fled, they boarded up the abandoned houses in an effort to keep the drifters and vagabonds out of town. But then strange stuff started happening. Rumors about ghosts and satanic cults, murders, escaped mental patients. Others had said they could hear wailing from the forest, where a run-down and rusting school bus could be found. The story there was that the students on that bus had been killed by some crazy guy. I can’t say if any of that stuff is true or not, but I can say, based on my BEAST intel, that the things going on there in the late 70s and 80s were much worse than satanic cults and ghosts.

  Much worse.

  So Zack was right: any way you sliced it, going to Helltown was crazy.

  Still, I didn’t let that deter me, neither did he or Maddie. I was going whether I had weapons or backup or not.

  “Less crazy with weapons,” Maddie said. “There’s a way to get into the armory. There has to be.”

  “Maybe through the sewers and vents, you know, like in Mission Impossible or something. We could repel down,” Zack said. He was acting this out with his hands.

  “Problem is that none of us are small enough to fit in the vents or the the sewers,” I said. “Plus we’d get lost or stuck.”

  A buzzing floated from the shadows inside of the doors. It sounded like a pissed-off bumblebee. I knew that sound and when I heard it an idea clicked in my brain.

  “Wait a second,” I said. “Did you hear that?”

  “The sound of SOD spewing bullshit from their mouths? Yeah, I heard that,” Zack said.

  “No. The buzzing. Is that who I—” But the answer to my question was answered when the small hooded figure shot out from the parking garage.

  Slayer moved so fast, that an SOD agent coming out for a respectable smoke break didn’t even see him dart through his legs. He pulled a Marlboro out from the pack and said, “Fuckin rats.”

  But that was no rat; that was a goblin. Our goblin, and I was so glad he was
safe.

  19

  Mission Impossible: Goblin

  Maddie led the way around the building, out of sight from the collection of cops and SOD agents. Eventually, the shadows consumed us, hid us from prying eyes.

  Slayer jumped up and down and waved his hands at me. “What’s up, pal?” I asked. “Feeling all right?”

  He cooed with excitement. I had no idea what he was saying. I didn’t speak goblin and didn’t really have the time to learn. Maybe one day—though thinking about it, learning Spanish in high school didn’t really work that well for me.

  Anyway, Slayer seemed in good health. I was glad to see him, I really was. We figured he was among those taken when Doctor Blood attacked since I hadn’t found any goblin bodies among the wreckage. Apparently not. The goblins knew how to hide.

  “Can you do us a favor, Slayer?” I asked him. I was on my knees, looking right into his weird eyes.

  He nodded rapidly.

  “We need you to go back inside and grab some things for us,” I said. I was feeling bad, asking this of the goblin after he’d already saved our lives when Buddy Wolverton went all tentacle on us in Woodhaven, but what choice did we have?

  Slayer grinned, nodded some more.

  “Okay, there’s only one way inside that I know of where SOD won’t catch you,” I began but now Slayer was shaking his head, holding up two fingers.

  “Two ways?” Zack asked. “Is he saying two ways?”

  Slayer nodded.

  “Okay, good,” I said.

  “Because your plan involved him crawling through the sewers and up the toilet pipes,” Zack said.

  I glared at him. “Not true,” I said.

  It was true.

  “We are so going to hell for this,” Maddie mumbled.

  “No, just Helltown,” I said, then I turned back to Slayer and put my hand on his head, ruffled his wispy hair, “We need weapons, little friend, and right now we can’t get into the armory. We’re too big. But you’re small enough to go unnoticed.”

  Slayer’s lips started moving. Choked words came out. I wasn’t sure what he was saying, but we all leaned closer, straining our ears.

  “Fruh-Fruh eye-end,” Slayer said.

  Slayer was speaking English, and I could understand the word he was saying even if the others couldn’t.

  He was saying: Friend.

  I leaned forward and wrapped the little goblin up in a hug. He hugged me back.

  “Friend,” I said.

  “Jesus Christ, how can you put his life on the line after that?” Zack asked.

  “It’s up to you, Slayer,” I said. “It could be dangerous.”

  “Danger!” Slayer shouted. “Slayer!” Then he growled and put his hands up like claws.

  “So that’s a yes?” I asked.

  “Yes! Yes!” Slayer shouted, but it sounded more like Yas! Yas!

  “Shh,” I said. Near the garage door the man smoking the cigarette had been joined by someone else. It looked like a female from here.

  Slayer now pointed up.

  “The vents,” Maddie said as we all followed his finger.

  “Genius,” I said.

  “No,” Slayer said. “No. Fruh-eye-end.”

  “Friend,” I replied.

  “The goblin has spoken,” Zack said. He saw how uncertain Maddie looked and his hand found hers again. “Have some faith. It’ll be all right.”

  Maddie gave him a weak smile.

  Slayer drifted away during our conversation, headed toward the brick below the vent.

  A car was coming up the road, its headlights eating away the darkness.

  “Duck!” I said.

  “Goose,” Zack said back.

  I shook my head.

  We all fell to the ground behind an overgrown bush.

  The car crept by, muffled music coming from within it. For a moment, my heart thundered as I pictured the car stopping, rolling its windows down, and asking for directions, which would’ve been heard by the agents just around the corner and there would’ve went our plan.

  Fortunately, that didn’t happen.

  Once we were in the clear, I peeked around the bush and saw the red brake lights in the distance as the car turned, heading for the parking garage. More SOD agents ravaging the HQ, no doubt.

  “In the clear,” I said. “Help me boost him up.”

  “What about the grate?” Maddie asked.

  “Anyone have a screwdriver?” I asked, but Slayer grunted and trilled softly. “What, buddy?”

  He growled and flexed his muscles.

  “I think he’s saying he can rip it off with his brute goblin strength,” Zack said.

  Slayer was no dummy. He caught Zack’s condescending tone easily enough. The goblin reached out and wrapped his arms around Zack’s knees—that was about as high as the little goblin came up to him—and as easily as breathing Slayer lifted Zack up into the air.

  Maddie and I stepped back, our eyes wide.

  “Put me down!” Zack said.

  “Be quiet!” Maddie whispered.

  “Uh, sorry, but I—” Zack began and then Slayer followed his instructions. Down Zack went. He landed in the bush, tumbled off then landed on his ass in the cold mulch. It was all much too loud.

  I helped him up.

  “Never underestimate a goblin,” Maddie said.

  Zack was rubbing his lower back and eyeing Slayer warily. “Yeah, I guess so.”

  “All right, Slayer,” I said. “We’re gonna boost you up and then you go on in. Grab as much as you can. Storm has to have a bag or something in there. But be careful, avoid the SOD agents, or they’ll lock you up.”

  Slayer nodded eagerly.

  “Zack? Little help?” I said.

  “Aw, come on,” he said. “Obviously I’m suffering from PTSD over that situation and you’re gonna have me—”

  Maddie stepped forward, sighing. “Let’s do it.”

  I grinned at Zack.

  Maddie and I each got down on our knees. Slayer stepped onto our laced palms and we boosted the goblin into the air. He was heavier than he looked.

  He made a sound like he was going down the first big hill of a rollercoaster, seeming to hang in the air for a long time. Then his little fingers gripped the vent, clinging to it like a mini Spider-Man. He worked the bolts. With a soft straining they turned round and round, the grate gave and then opened. He moved deftly and disappeared into the vent, the darkness swallowing him up completely.

  To Zack, Maddie said, “Showed up by a girl again.”

  “Whatever. I’m suffering here,” he replied. But he was smiling and so was she, their cheeks red with budding…love?

  We stood in silence for what seemed like a long time. No other agents arrived, but through the open grate I could hear their voices as they cracked jokes at the expense of our small operation. In reality, I figured we probably did more work than they did.

  “Hey! Stop right there!” someone shouted. The vents echoed the voice. “Fucking goblins! You stop!”

  Then came the pitter-patter of Slayer’s rushing footsteps. We all looked up to the opening. Silence for a second. I feared the worst. Maybe the agents had got a hold of Slayer. Then what? We’d be without our weapons and we would’ve not only lost time, but we would have lost a friend, too.

  But then Slayer’s voice made a sound Maddie and I took as a warning. Zack, however, did not.

  A bag sailed out of the opening. It hit the swinging grate and sent the metal against the brick wall, making a bang!

  There was Zack standing in the bag’s decreasing shadow, like a cartoon character standing below a falling anvil.

  “Oh, shit,” he managed to say before the bag caught him in the chest. To his credit, he had caught it in his arms, but Slayer had tossed it pretty hard and when the bag hit his sternum, its momentum sent Zack flying into the same bush as before.

  Slayer came out next, flying through the air. I cringed when I saw where the goblin was going to land.
<
br />   Like the bag, Zack never saw him coming, but when Slayer touched down on his stomach, a great whoosh of air burst forth from his mouth.

  We rushed over and helped them up.

  Slayer was babbling and pointing up at the grate. There, we heard thunder. One of the SOD agents had chased him through the vent.

  “Gotta go, Zack,” I said.

  He moaned, coughed, trying to catch his breath.

  “Be hurt later,” Maddie said and with a grunt we ripped him out of the bush and took off running.

  By this time, the agents were out of the building, chasing us.

  I heard one say they were going to shoot and I thought that was a little drastic, but really I’d expect nothing less from agents under the control of Lorne and Dalton.

  They never did and we didn’t slow down until we got to the rental car parked on the opposite side of the street.

  Zack somehow managed to get behind the wheel. Though he may have been hurt and out of breath, his driving hadn’t suffered the slightest. The tires squealed on the concrete, leaving dark marks in their wake.

  I looked behind us and there was Agent Lorne and Dalton with a group of other agents I didn’t recognize. A couple of them were bent over, hands on their knees, their faces red in the yellow light of the street lamps.

  “Yeah!” Zack shouted.

  Slayer jumped over the backseat and into the trunk. He pressed his face up against the rear windshield, giggling.

  “No, Slayer,” Zack said, “do this!” He showed him the proper way to flip someone off, which Slayer picked up pretty easily. Using both hands, he told those SOD agents what was what. Even Maddie thought that was funny. I saw her smiling.

  We sped off, leaving HQ behind. I had this funny feeling in my stomach that it would be the last time I’d see it. Though I didn’t want to believe SOD would shut us down, I knew it was possible and even likely.

  “Let’s see what we’re working with,” Maddie said. She set the bag on the middle console and unzipped it.

  She pulled out a pistol, one of Storm’s modified six-guns, and a box of silver bullets, a crucifix, a few vials of holy water, a strung-together necklace of garlic, Zack’s hatchet which had multicolored blood dried on the chipped blade, my sword, a handful of stakes, and a crossbow that needed restrung, modified to shoot those stakes. We couldn’t have picked better weapons if we had gone in there and chose them ourselves.