Five Nights at Freddy's: The Silver Eyes(48)

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 have 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.