Goblins (16 page)

Chapter Twenty-Three

Willows thought he was alone. Then he found out he hadn't been and killed three of those creatures. He hoped that was all of them, whatever they were. If those were the killers, then Hale and the others would return unharmed. It was the reason he hadn't heard gunfire. He didn't know what to make of the things, except that they were humanoid killers and dead. He and the others could figure it all out later.

As he watched over the landscape for signs of more creatures, he felt a presence behind him. It was then he knew he hadn't killed them all. He didn't want to react too quickly and screw up the shot. These creatures proved to be cunning and fleet of foot like nothing else he'd seen. If he missed, it would be on him. At least he hoped it was an it and not a them. He had no idea how close it was, but by the way the stench had worsened, he guessed it was right behind him. His Glock 19 held fifteen bullets, plenty of ammo to take out even a few of those creatures.

Sweat trickled down his back and inner thigh. Normally, the tickling sensation drove him crazy. He'd have to scratch the itch. But not this time. He was focused like no time before. Ready to make his move, he heard a scraping noise from above.

He spun around, not bothering with stepping away first, and came waist to face with what looked like a chunk of rock. It had legs, arms and shiny black eyes. It was far uglier than the others and appeared to have been put through a meat grinder. It was charred and layered in scars. One of its pointy ears looked like it had been gnawed upon and was left to rot. The sight froze Willows for a second. He wanted to scream at seeing a monster come to life that could only be from a child's nightmare. Its stench was on him, invading his airways and pores.

The creature was holding his shotgun over its head like a club. How it had taken it without him knowing was beyond his train of thought at the moment. He saw all this in the few seconds that unfolded before the gun came down and whacked him across the face. His Glock 19 went off and he wondered why he hadn't starting shooting sooner, filled the ugly thing with a few rounds of 9 mm ammo.

But it was too late now as his head sparked with pain and he fell. He was still conscious for another moment, until the creature whacked him again.

Chapter Twenty-Four

Hale and the others proceeded slowly. Flashlights lit the unending darkness ahead. The crunch of small stones and loose dirt underfoot echoed in their ears. The flashlights made sneaking up on someone impossible. So Hale figured a little noise didn't matter.

The cave walls were like sheets of crinkled carbon paper that sucked in light and killed it. The ground was at a constant decline, steeper in some parts than others, but nothing that would cause anyone to go tumbling away. There were few bends in the tunnel and the first one they came to, Hale had thought
this is it
, but then the darkness would extend beyond his vision, leaving him feeling cold. Still, every turn was taken with caution, as if the killers waited around each corner.

The tunnel varied in width and height. Some stretches were as wide and tall as fifteen feet, while others were no more than six. And although there was plenty of room and no fear of getting stuck, the sense of claustrophobia was real. This was especially the case when the group went from a wide part of the tunnel to a narrower part. That, combined with the horrendous smell in the air and the humidity, made for idle chatter that Hale had to insist cease. He knew his people were anxious, hell, he was too, but they needed their hearing more than ever down here.

It'd been a little over ten minutes since they had started down the tunnel, and their clothes were soaked through with sweat. The farther down they traveled, the warmer the air became. Normally, caves grew colder the deeper people traveled. The opposite was happening here and it was unnerving them all.

“I think we should go back and get proper gear,” Levy said.

“Yeah,” Keller agreed. “It's like we're descending into hell itself.”

Hale wiped his brow for what had to be the tenth time in the last five minutes. He agreed if they didn't come across the killers soon, they would have to turn back.

“Chief,” Levy said, stopping. “We've got to head back now. Get help. We're cops, not spelunkers. It's getting hard to breathe.”

“The air is thicker here,” Garnett said. “I wasn't sure if it was all in my head, but I think Levy's right. We don't know if there are toxic fumes down here or what.”

Hale knew they were right. And if they didn't find anyone soon, he would go back. But he'd return as soon as they received proper gear, exhausted or not.

He was upset with himself for not having thought to prepare better. At least had hiking shoes brought in, along with bottles of water and energy bars. Helmets with lights attached, freeing up their hands. But he'd had no idea the killers would be hiding out in a tunnel. Come to think of it, he had no idea there was even such a thing on the island. The damn thing should be flooded. They were below the water level for sure.

“Chief?” Keller asked.

He was outnumbered. Sure, he was the boss, but that didn't mean he was going to risk his officers' lives. Ready to lead them back to the surface, he spotted a cave in the wall up ahead. He motioned for the group to be quiet and pointed it out. If the killers were inside, Hale didn't need them guessing how many cops there were.

Guns were drawn and everyone moved forward. Hale and Keller were in the lead, side by side. Hale saw another cave leading off the main tunnel about ten feet from the first cave. Shining the light farther ahead, he saw more caves. If the main tunnel branched off into multiple tunnels, they were going to need an army to check them all. All the offshoots were about the same size—no more than six feet around.

Something crunched under Hale's foot. He looked down and saw small bones. Metatarsals and ribs, along with various animal bones. An intact squirrel skull lay among the parts. They were all picked clean. Upon closer examination, he saw human teeth too.

“That ain't right,” Keller said. “They're eating people down here?”

Hale's pulse quickened at seeing the bones. He wondered where the larger ones were. His eyes shot to the first offshoot cave and he swallowed, his mouth and throat suddenly very dry.

“Levy and Garnett,” Hale said, “watch for movement up ahead. Patrone, watch our six. Keller, you're with me.”

Hale inched up to the hole, listened and when he heard nothing, peered inside and shone the flashlight beam around. His gun moved in tune with his eyes. The cave was small, about the size of a home office. It wasn't a cave but a den. There were more human bones. Femurs, tibias, clavicles and the sort lay piled in the center, almost neatly. Three human skulls rested against the far wall.

Hale stood and looked at the others, his face long. He told them what he saw.

“Fucking animals,” Garnett said. “We need to stop these maniacs.”

Patrone said something in Spanish, then “This is the devil's work.”

Hale was beginning to think so too. Only pure evil could live in such a place and do what they were doing.

Keller wanted to take the next den. He looked pissed. Hell, they all did. If not a little frightened, too. Any thoughts of them leaving were gone, Hale knew.

As Keller moved up to the den, Hale shone his light farther down the tunnel. Levy and Garnett were busy inspecting the cave Hale had left. He wanted to remind them of their duty, but allowed them to take a quick look. There were at least seven dens that he could see. Any one of them could house the killers. When Levy's and Garnett's curiosity was satisfied, they returned to duty, flashlights out, guns ready.

Keller was crouched beside the next den, gun drawn. Seeing he was covered, he listened for sound, then peeked into the cave. A growl emanated from within.

Hale glanced down and watched as the big man was yanked off his feet and pulled into the den.

“Nooooo!” Levy yelled.

“Holy shit,” Patrone said.

Screams erupted from the room. Keller's flashlight beam danced around and then was gone, along with the man's screams. A sickening tearing sound filled their ears. A burst of blood shot out of the entranceway and colored the floor in a soupy crimson.

Levy rushed forward. Hale grabbed her and wrapped her up in a bear hug. “He's dead,” he told her. “He's dead.”

Garnett and Patrone moved in, guns pointing at the den's opening.

“Let me go,” Levy cried and struggled to break free.

“He's gone,” Hale said forcefully. He needed her head in the game. Needed all their heads in the game. If he let himself, he'd be sick. But he wouldn't let his mind go there. Not now. Later. Now he was their leader. The person they looked to when the shit hit the fan, and it had definitely just done that.

“No,” Levy said. “We have to go in there and get him.”

“What the fuck was that?” Garnett asked.

“The devil,” Patrone answered.

“Cut that shit out, man,” Garnett said.

Hale felt the word at the tip of his tongue—goblin. But he said nothing. Jed was a crazy old drunk.

A shuffling sound came from up ahead.

Hale released Levy, shoving her toward the others. He then shone his light down the tunnel and saw a creature almost identical to the one that had attacked him at the Whitmore house. Then another one came from another den a little farther down. They had stumbled upon the creatures' bedrooms.

“What is going on?” Garnett asked, the man still pointing his weapon at the den where Keller had been viciously murdered.

Hale heard the sounds of chewing and ripping, human flesh being consumed.

“Holy shit,” Patrone said, his light no longer on the den but shining down the tunnel alongside Hale's. “There are more coming.”

A few of the creatures were holding wicked-looking daggers, the blades twelve inches in length and a gleaming pearl-white. Hale didn't know why they needed such things when their claws appeared good enough to get the job done. Then a worsening thought occurred to him. If they were using weapons, it meant they were more intelligent than he'd originally thought. More human than not.

Gunshots erupted from behind Hale. He turned to see Levy sending lead into a creature coming from the den where Keller had been killed. Its horn-laden scalp was quickly turned into a pulpy, green mess as bullets tore into it. Hale's ears rang as if church bells were going off, the gunshots' reports deafening in the small space. He couldn't help but think of the popular Schwarzenegger line from the movie
Predator
, a favorite of his:
If it bleeds, we can kill it
. He already knew the things could be killed; why his mind went there, he didn't know.

Levy's gun was out of ammo before long, but she kept pulling the trigger, tears streaming down her face. Click, click, click.

Hale wanted to tell her it was dead, that the nightmare was over, but it was far from so. Instead, he shook her and told her she needed to get herself together or they weren't going to leave there alive. She wiped at her face and had a new magazine in her gun in seconds.

Patrone fired down the tunnel. Hale's eyes bulged at the sight. For the few seconds he'd turned his back, more creatures had come from the holes up ahead. Some held daggers or spiked clubs.

Hale opened fire too. He and Patrone took the lead. Levy and Garnett were behind them. “We fire in twos,” Hale shouted. “Give us time to reload.” His ability to reason under the circumstances astounded him. He only hoped the others heard him.

The few creatures he'd seen had quickly become ten, with more approaching from farther down the tunnel. They charged, their faces screwed into angry snarls. Claws and white daggers gleamed in the flashlights' illumination. Holes appeared in a few of the lead creatures, the bullets doing their thing. But it did nothing to deter the horde from charging onward. Hale's shots had been frantic and unmeasured. Realizing his mistake, the creatures' hides tough, he aimed for heads and chests, hoping they had hearts to stop.

One creature took a bullet to the forehead. Its brains exploded out the back and onto another's face. The dead creature fell and was quickly trampled by the one behind it, its incredibly long tongue lapping up its fallen brother's juices.

“Aim for the vital areas,” Hale shouted. “Take measured shots. Conserve ammo.”

Bullets tore into creatures, many getting cut down, but only to be replaced by others that were coming from the darkness ahead. The things seemed to be in never ending numbers, and they were drawing ever nearer despite the barrage of gunfire.

When Patrone's gun was empty, Levy took his place. Her jaw muscles bulged. Her shots were slower, but the hits more deadly. Creatures went down with only one or two blasts. Heads exploded, eyes ruptured and teeth were shattered as bullets did their thing.

Hale's gun clicked empty. He stepped back and Garnett took his place. Hale popped out his gun's magazine and slid another one into the weapon. He wasn't waiting for the others to empty their weapons. He crouched between the two officers and fired.

The creatures didn't care how many of their brethren fell, they kept coming. Hale had never seen such an act, equating it to a stampede of focused fury. No matter human or animal, no living thing threw themselves into death so willingly. They didn't care if they lived or died and only wanted the intruders dead.

With everyone taking measured shots—a collective intense calm having spread over the officers—the creatures were going down faster. Bullets to the upper chest and head proved best, otherwise the things just didn't drop.

They were also slowed when the lead creatures went down and tripped up the ones behind, the scene almost comical at times. It was the only benefit to the large numbers.

Bullets continued to hit their mark, putting the attackers down or at least crippling them. Goblins that were hit in shoulders spun into others. Collisions ensued constantly, further slowing the semi-organized attack. Knees were blown out, causing the creatures to go down hard. The ones lucky enough to not get trampled to death crawled forward like zombies hell-bent on getting to human flesh. All in all, their numbers were somewhat working against them.

The goblins' ranks were dwindling, but they'd gotten closer, some of them mere feet away. The stench was at its worst. The wave of noxious death had completely washed over the officers. If it had been water, they'd all have drowned.

The badge-wearing gun fighters kept changing places when it was time to reload. Hale didn't know if they were going to make it. He didn't want doubt seeping in, but the creatures kept coming. They were getting harder to hit as their numbers dwindled. Besides being tough to put down if the shot wasn't perfect, they were darting around and moving in zigzag patterns.

Hale was down to his last magazine and had just reloaded when a small group was mere feet away. One dashed from the pack as Patrone tossed his useless weapon at the charging creature. The gun bounced off its chest. The deputy pulled his knife and sank the blade into the thing's right eye, but not before it swiped its claws across his abdomen. Patrone turned and faced Hale as Garnett shoved past him and began firing. Hale didn't know if the deputy had seen his friend's wounds. Patrone's shirt had been sliced open, along with his stomach. He coughed up blood, and in doing so, his intestines burst from his gut. A smirk formed on his face, but his eyes were glazed over. He fell to his knees and collapsed against the wall.

A creature skirted past Garnett and Levy and dove onto Patrone's corpse. As it opened its mouth to take a bite, Hale pressed the end of his gun's barrel against the thing's head and sent a bullet through its brain.

Hale faced the oncoming pack of monsters again. A creature half the size of the others, and with a head way too large for its body, darted forward and made it to Levy. Hale shouted for her to watch out, but her attention was focused on another creature barreling down on her. She blasted it in the face, stopping it cold. The thing at her feet raked its claws down her shin, giggling as it did so.

Levy cried out, stepped back and shot the thing in the head.