by George Gipe
She hastily began tearing the matches from the books and putting them in an ashtray, shielding her actions by leaning against the cash register. It was while fumblingly doing this that she saw the camera.
It was Dorry’s Instamatic, carefully stashed out of sight behind the register. And it had a flashcube. A perfect offensive weapon that could open a pathway out of captivity. She grabbed it with a quick compulsive gesture that was not lost on the Gremlins at the bar.
There was no time to plan the best way out or gain a head start before using the flashcube. In fact, the hordes were already pouring over the counter so fast Kate barely had time to get the camera in position, find the button, and push. Her mind wasn’t even allowed a moment for the dubious luxury of agonizing over the possibility the device wouldn’t work.
Psheee—ick.
The sudden burst of light from the flashbulb created an immediate vacuum at the bar, Gremlins tumbling backward and over each other in their reaction to the pain. Kate used the precious seconds of chaos to race to her right and fling herself around the right side of the counter. There she ran into a new group of angry Gremlins.
A second explosion of light gouged a six-foot wedge of empty floor space ahead of her. She plunged forward, trying not to notice the clutching claws immediately behind her. Now the green creatures were mobilized by fury, their screeching chorus swirling around Kate like vaporized hatred. As she advanced spastically toward the front door, she realized they had no intention of taking prisoners in this small but bitter conflict.
Blocked once more by a new curtain of green-brown bodies and vengeful eyes but now within sight of the exit, she pushed the button again.
Psheee—ick.
Thank God, she thought, it worked.
Struggling forward into the temporary no-man’s-land, she stumbled into the foyer. A split second later Gremlins were all about her, screaming and clawing. She could feel pinpricks of pain all over her body as they fought to get a good claw’s grip on her. One hand against the wall to keep from falling, she brought the camera forward again. Let it work one more time, she prayed, just once.
The camera clicked, but this time there was no detonation of brightness, no howl of pain and rage from the enemy, no recoiling in terror away from her. Instead they surged forward around their target like waves breaking over a rock.
Kate let go of the camera, heard herself scream, could not help falling forward into the turgid green sea with its clawed wavelets reaching for her.
Even as she fell, Kate saw a huge flash of light against the foyer wall. Their giggles of vengeful glee turning to shrieks of pain, the Gremlins scattered to the shadows, leaving Kate alone on the floor, her torn clothes and body bathed in a trapezoidal pattern of illumination shaped by the front windows.
For a moment Kate’s numbed mind worked sluggishly. Had the fall somehow triggered the flashcube? Then, as she freed herself from the shock of the past few moments, she realized the lights came from outside, that the headlights of a car were pointed directly into the building. Not knowing how long these saving beams would last, she scrambled to her feet as quickly as she could and raced for the door.
Outside, a figure that had just gotten out of the car called her name in a familiar voice.
“Billy!” Kate shouted back.
“Are you all right?” he asked, folding his arms about her when she ran to him.
“I . . . I think so. But those things . . . How many are there?”
“I don’t know,” Billy replied. “They’re everywhere. I thought they’d gotten you, too.”
“Me too? Who else?”
“We don’t have time to stand here talking about it,” Billy said. “We gotta get help. I don’t know wh—”
As he spoke, the idling VW started to miss, its rhythm punctuated by heavy lurches and a slamming sound from the rear. Leaping into the car, Billy stabbed at the gas pedal, but in his haste gave the engine too much fuel. With a single gag, it died.
“Not now!” Billy swore.
Kate got in beside him.
“Is it all right?” she asked. “I’d like to get away from here soon.”
“It’s temperamental,” Billy replied, turning the key. When the engine failed to start immediately, he turned off the lights and sat back.
“What are you doing?” Kate whispered. “Giving up?”
“No. It’s just that it may be flooded, so it’s best to wait a minute or two.”
“But the lights—”
“Leaving them on will wear down the batter—”
A beer bottle slammed against the windshield, creating a spider web of broken glass and frightening Kate and Billy nearly out of their wits.
“That’s why I asked about the lights,” Kate murmured. “It’s the only thing keeping them away.”
Another heavy object smashed into the windshield.
“Maybe we’d better run,” Kate suggested.
“Just a second,” Billy said.
Turning the ignition key once again, he ground away for nearly a minute without success. Meanwhile a hail of ashtrays, bottles, and pool table accessories bounced off the hood or clunked against the side of the car.
“Yeah,” Billy said finally. “You’re right.”
Reaching into the back of the car, he grabbed the knapsack with such a jerk that Gizmo nearly fell completely out, his fall being broken only by his feet getting tangled in the strap. Grumbling in Mogwai, he ducked back inside and then reemerged, only the tip of his nose and eyes showing.
Not recognizing Gizmo in the darkness, Kate recoiled, thinking the car had been infiltrated by Gremlins.
“It’s O.K.,” Billy said. “It’s only Giz. Let’s go.”
Getting out of the car, they dashed through the barrage of objects flying from the tavern, pausing only when they had crossed the street. They looked at each other and smiled, both realizing at the same time that they were just outside the bank, the door of which was open.
“Can you beat that?” Billy said. “They even found a way to get in the bank after closing hours.”
“Maybe we’d better check and see if everything’s all right,” Kate suggested.
Billy nodded. They went inside and turned on the lights, which caused a scurrying of feet out the back door. In the harsh glow of the overhead incandescent lights the vandalized bank looked as if a typhoon had recently passed through. All of the tellers’ windows were broken, pieces of furniture lay on their sides, cash drawers were open and money of all denominations was everywhere.
“I guess they figured it was just useless paper to them,” Billy said.
“And to make sure it would be useless to everybody else, they tore all the bills in pieces,” Kate pointed out, picking up several mutilated dollars and then letting them fall back to the littered floor. “Boy, I think I’ll quit this job,” she added, looking around at the monetary mess. “We’ll never get this to tally.”
“Yeah . . .”
A soft moan echoed through the bank, causing them to exchange chilled expressions.
“Who’s there?” a distant voice asked. “I can hear someone. May I be of assistance?”
“Sounds like Ger,” Billy remarked.
Kate nodded.
“We’re not open for business yet, but it’s all right to come in and chat,” Gerald Hopkins’s voice said in an uncharacteristically agreeable tone.
“He must be in the vault,” Kate said . . .”
Billy took her hand and together they walked past the executive offices to the room at the end of the corridor. Its door was ajar.
“Is somebody out there?” Gerald’s voice asked. He sounded distracted, singsongy, almost drugged.
Billy pushed the door open and gingerly they entered the room.
Kate gasped.
The vault and anteroom were in total disarray, but that was the least terrifying element they saw. On the floor lay the inert body of Roland Corben, his features relaxed as if he were enjoying an afternoon nap. Kate an
d Billy knew immediately that he was not sleeping, however.
“Poor Mr. Corben,” Kate breathed.
Their eyes rising from the floor at the same time, they saw Gerald Hopkins in the background, apparently locked in the securities room of the vault. Gripping the steel bars like a penitentiary inmate, he smiled out at them, speaking in a deferential but firm tone of voice.
“I’m so sorry,” he said. “You’re both too big to use this bank.”
“What?” Billy responded, puzzled.
“This bank is for little people only,” Gerald explained. He held his palm approximately waist-high and then continued in the same strange voice. “We’re going to redecorate this entire bank, lower the tellers’ windows, make the furniture smaller—everything so that little people will feel more at home here.”
He gestured grandly but in a sort of slow motion, as if he were in a trance or dreaming. “This is going to be the first bank just for little people,” he said softly. “Think of it. And I’m the president.”
Kate and Billy stole sidelong glances at each other.
“If you ask me, I think his buttons are in the wrong buttonholes,” Kate whispered.
“Could be,” Billy replied.
“The world has needed a facility for little people for a long time,” Gerald intoned. “And now, with me as their leader, they’re going to get it.”
“Little people,” Billy said. “Do you mean the Gremlins?”
“I don’t know what they’re called. All I know is they talk very fast and so funny Mr. Corben didn’t understand them. That’s why they—”
He broke off then, frowning.
“Yes?” Billy urged. “Go on.”
“Never mind, it’s too unpleasant. All I can say is that Mr. Corben didn’t want to go along with the little people. Of course, he’s quite old and set in his ways. That’s why he didn’t understand their needs. But I did. So they established me as first president of their bank.”
“Just as I thought,” Kate whispered. “He’s as soft as a nickel cantaloupe.”
Gerald Hopkins fixed Billy with a gaze that was somehow both intense and vacant. “You can be my head teller if you promise to be respectful to the little people,” he said. “Your name escapes me, but I remember your face.” With that, he threw his head back and giggled in a way that was eerily close to that of the Gremlins. “Yes, but I’ll let you work for me . . . Minimum wage, naturally.”
“I can’t believe this,” Kate breathed, shaking her head. “I told you terrible things always happen at Christmas time.”
“It’s not the holiday’s fault,” Billy murmured.
“Now if you’ll pardon me, I have a lot of work to do,” Gerald said in a more formal tone. “People who will be investing in the new bank are coming soon, so I have to be ready.”
“Would you like us to see if we can get the door open?” Billy asked.
“No, it’s perfectly all right. Good day.”
He smiled blandly but with a certain finality and returned to the inside of the vault. Taking a seat at the small desk inside, he began writing with an instrument that if not imaginary was invisible to Kate and Billy.
“When the Gremlins raided this place and attacked Mr. Corben, I guess it was just too much for him,” Billy said. “His mind must have gone. At first I thought he was putting on an act for us, but now . . . Poor guy.”
“Well”—Kate shrugged—“at least he’s got his own bank now. That seems to have made him happy.”
As Gerald continued working at the desk, Kate and Billy quietly left the room.
“What next?” Kate asked.
“I don’t know.”
A moment later they stood at the entrance of the bank, staring out at the deserted streets of Kingston Falls.
“Where do you suppose everybody is?” Kate murmured.
The town seemed like an old movie set, no sign of life intruding on its eerie serenity. A few small lights glowed in houses but that was all.
“Everybody must be hiding in their basements or attics until help comes,” Billy suggested. “Either that or they got in their cars and left.”
He looked at his watch. It was four o’clock. “Not very long until daybreak,” he added. “I wonder what the Gremlins will do when the sun comes out.”
“Probably find a dark place and hang out until night again,” Kate said.
“Yeah.”
“I think we should find a radio and see what’s going on. If they haven’t destroyed the station, we might find out something.”
“Good idea,” Billy seconded. “Suppose we were the only ones left in town because the government decided to nuke the whole place. Wouldn’t that be funny?”
“Hilarious.”
“I think there’s a radio in Mr. Corben’s office.”
“Yes.”
They went back into the bank and rooted through the debris. Mr. Corben’s desk radio had been smashed and its cord chewed to a frazzle, but in one drawer they found some small transistor radios the bank used as gifts for new accounts. One of them still worked.
—peat, stay in your homes until the official all clear is given. Lieutenant General David Greene of the United States Marine barracks at Phoenix is here now and has agreed to take a valuable minute of his time in order to explain what his troops, who are already standing by near Kingston Falls, are going to do. General Greene . . .
Thank you, Harman. First of all, we’re urging everyone to stay indoors. That will make our job a whole lot easier. You see, we don’t really know what these small creatures are, having only just arrived and having nothing but reports to go on. Now, they could be masqueraders or a new form of life from an alien galaxy. That’s a long shot but we like to be flexible. That’s why we’re not coming into your town with flamethrowers and machine guns and rocket launchers. We don’t want to destroy property or endanger lives and we do want to take these animals or people alive.
That sounds like a good juggling act, General Greene. How do you plan to do that, sir?
Well, we hope to literally flush these invaders or troublemakers into the open. You see, rather than rely on weaponry, we’ve procured and brought with us several huge portable pumps and fire hoses. What we’ll begin doing in about thirty minutes, as soon as our pumps are loaded, is go from building to building looking for these . . . things. When we find them, instead of firing on them or taking a chance on having them injure our men, we intend to turn the hoses on and round them up that way. You know, there’s a lot you can do with a heavy stream of water directed the right way.
That sounds like a terrific plan, General Greene . . .
“Terrific!” Billy exploded. “It’s terrible! If they come here with hoses and spray a lot of water around, we’ll have millions of Gremlins instead of a few hundred.”
“Then we’ve got to head off those soldiers,” Kate said calmly. “Talk them out of it.”
“Have you ever tried to talk a general out of a plan he’s devised?”
“No. Have you?”
“No. But in the movies it never works.”
“Maybe this time it will be different. After all, Billy, you know more than they do.”
“Yeah, I know,” Billy said. “It is my fault. I’m to blame for this whole mess.”
“There’s no time to worry about blame now. If you’re going to talk these troops out of using water, maybe you should have a better plan for how to round up the Gremlins.”
Billy sighed, nodded.
They were at the entrance of the bank again. Billy looked both ways on Main Street, scratched his head thoughtfully.
“Wait a minute,” he said finally. “Where are the Gremlins, anyway?”
“The same as before, I suppose,” Kate replied. “Going from building to building.”
“But there’s nothing moving. I don’t see or hear anything, do you?”
“No, now that you mention it.”
Billy hopped off the sidewalk and began walking quickly in the direc
tion of Dorry’s Pub. Kate followed.
“Where are you going?” she asked when she caught up with him. “Not back in the pub, I hope.”
“Yeah.”
“Why?”
“Just a hunch.”
Her features reflecting her anxiety, Kate trailed behind him. She had no desire to return to Dorry’s if those creatures were still inside. On the other hand, if he had an idea how to get rid of the greenies and needed her help, she had no alternative but to go along with him. And despite the perils she had been through, there was still something in her that rose to the challenge when her courage was tested.
“Do you have a flashlight in your car?” she asked.
“Good idea,” Billy said.
The battered VW was still there at curbside, looking worse than ever as the centerpiece of the garbage shower hurled at it from the pub. Billy reached inside the car and found the flashlight on the seat, which glowed yellowishly.
“I’d estimate we have less than a minute’s life left in that thing,” Kate predicted.
“That may be just enough,” he said.
Billy in the lead, they edged their way into the foyer of the pub. Every second Kate expected to be engulfed by either a new barrage of missiles or by the Gremlins themselves, their claws flashing. She doubted that the flashlight would be much help in deterring a Gremlin attack, its weak beam projecting only a few feet into the darkness. When no assault came, she began to feel better, especially when they turned the corner and moved into the main lounge area. There, by the subdued indirect lighting of that room, they saw wreckage and destruction of monumental proportions, but there wasn’t a single Gremlin in sight.
Billy looked around, whistled softly as his eyes took in the wall-to-wall panorama of vandalism.
“Poor Dorry,” he said sadly.
“What do you mean, ‘Poor Dorry’?” Kate protested with a bit of a laugh. “It was almost ‘Poor me.’ But for the grace of God, I could be one of those piles of trash.” Squeezing his arm, she added quickly, “And thanks to you, of course.”
Billy’s expression was a mixture of pleasure and mild embarrassment.
They stood silently for a moment. Finally Billy said, “Well, where do you suppose they all went?”