Five Nights at Freddy's: The Silver Eyes(78)

“We have to get out of here; not out of this room, out of this building!” Jessica exclaimed.

“Carlton needs a doctor.” John added.

Jessica’s voice rose in pitch, sounding frantic, “We’re all going to need a doctor if we don’t leave!”

“I know,” Charlie said. She felt a rising irritation at the self-evident statement, and she tried to tamp it down. They were scared, and they were trapped: sniping at one another would not help. “Okay,” she said. “You’re right. We need to get out. We could try the skylight.”

“I don’t think we’ll be able to get out that way,” John said.

“There’s got to be a ladder in this place somewhere,” Charlie replied, her fear receding as she considered the options. She sat up straighter, gathering herself together.

“It won’t help,” Jessica said.

“Air vents,” John said hastily. “The ones Jason got in through were too small, but there have to be others. Windows—Freddy’s had windows, right? They have to lead somewhere.”

“I think it’s safe to say that they’ve all been bricked up.” Charlie shook her head and looked at the floor for a moment, then she met John’s eyes. “This whole place has been sealed.”

The walkie-talkie crackled to life, and they all jumped. Lamar’s voice came over the radio.

“John?”

John grabbed the radio.

“Yeah? Yeah, I’m here, and I’m with Charlie, Jessica, and Carlton. We’re in an office.”

“Good,” Lamar said. “Listen—” There was a brief scrabbling noise, then Marla’s voice came through.

“Good,” she said. “Listen, I’m looking at the monitors, and it looks like all the robots are on the main stage again.”

“What about Pirate’s Cove?” Charlie put in, leaning over John to talk into the receiver. “Is Foxy there, too?”

There was a brief pause.

“The curtain is closed,” Marla said.

“Marla, is everything ok?” Charlie said.

“Yeah,” she answered shortly, and the background static vanished abruptly—she had turned the walkie-talkie off.

Charlie and John exchanged a glance.

“Something’s wrong,” Carlton said. “Other than the obvious I mean.” He gestured in a vague circular motion, indicating everything around them.

“What are you talking about?” Jessica was losing her patience.

“With Marla, I mean,” he said. “Something’s wrong. Call her back.”

John pressed the call button again. “Marla? What’s going on?” There was no reply for a long minute, then Lamar replied.

“We don’t know where Jason is.” Her voice began to break. “He’s in danger.”

Charlie felt a jolt through her stomach. No. She heard John take a deep breath.

There was a shuddering sound from the other end of the radio: Marla was crying. She started to speak, broke off, and tried again.

“Foxy,” she said, her voice a little loud as she forced the words out. “Foxy took him.”

“Foxy?” Charlie said carefully. The figure standing in the front hallway, the rain whipping past it, the silver eyes, burning in the dark. She took the walkie-talkie from John’s hand; he gave it up without protest.

“Marla, listen, we’re going to find him. Do you hear me?” Her bravado echoed emptily even in her own ears. The walkie-talkie made no sound. Agitated, needing to move, to do something, Charlie turned to the others.

“I’m going to check out the skylight one more time,” she said. “Jessica, come with me, you’ve got the best chance of fitting.”

“Right,” Jessica said reluctantly, but she got to her feet.

“You shouldn’t go alone,” John said, standing to go with them. Charlie shook her head.

“Someone has to stay with him,” she said, gesturing at Carlton.

“Hey, I’m a big boy, I can stay by myself.” Carlton said, speaking to a shelf.

“Nobody is staying by themselves,” Charlie said firmly. John gave her a brief, precise nod, something just short of a salute, and she returned it. She looked back at Carlton, whose face was drawn, tight with pain. “Don’t let him fall asleep,” she told John in a low voice.

“I know,” he whispered.

“I can hear you, you know,” Carlton said, but his voice was flat and fatigued.

“Come on,” Jessica said. Charlie shut the door behind them, and heard John slip the lock back into place.

Charlie led the way; the closet with the skylight wasn’t far, and they crept down the hallway and in through the doors without incident.

“The skylight. Look, there’s no way to climb out through it, even for me. To get to the roof I would have to put all my weight on the glass; it would break. Even if we had a ladder, this isn’t the way out.”

“We could take the skylight window off,” Charlie suggested weakly.

“I guess we could break out all the glass,” Jessica said. “But that just brings us back to the ladder question. We need to look around.”



A sudden knock on the door caught John’s attention, and he sprang to his feet and listened carefully at the door. Charlie knocked again, briefly regretting that they had not come up with some sort of signal. “It’s me,” she called softly, and the lock slid back. John looked worried.