Five Nights at Freddy's: The Silver Eyes(81)

“I’m going to go help Jessica,” he muttered, and stood up with resignation. “There has to be rope around here somewhere.”

“Be right there.” Charlie smiled at Carlton, hoping to reassure him, then joined the others, heading for the boxes in the corner beside the door.

The first just held more paperwork, official forms with tiny print, but underneath was a box of tangled extension cords.

“Hey, I found something,” Charlie said, but she was cut off by a banshee scream.

Charlie was on her feet instantly, ready to run, but everyone else was still. Jessica was pointing to something in the corner, almost shaking. John was behind her, his eyes wide.

“What is it?” Charlie demanded, and when they did not answer, she rushed over, and looked down at the pile of empty costumes, to where Jessica was pointing.

It was hard to sort out what was what, in the pile of mascots. She stared blankly at the jumble, seeing nothing but fur and eyes and beaks and paws, and then it resolved before her eyes, and she saw it.

A dead man.

He looked young, not much older than they were— and he looked familiar.

“That’s the cop, the one from yesterday,” John said, recovering his voice.

“What?” Carlton said, snapping to attention. He came over to look. “That’s Officer Dunn, I know him.”

“Your dad sent him to look for you,” Charlie said quietly.

“What do we do?” Jessica said. She had been inching slowly backward, and now her foot bumped against Dave, and she jumped, stifling another scream. It pulled Charlie’s eyes away from Dunn, and looking away was enough to recall her to their task.

“There’s nothing we can do,” she said firmly. “Come on, we don’t know how much time we have before he wakes up.”

John and Jessica followed her across the room, Jessica catching up and keeping close to Charlie, as if afraid to get too far away from her again. Charlie grabbed a handful of cords and tossed it to John.

It was a long and tedious process. They propped Dave up into a sitting position against the wall, but he kept sliding down sideways, until John took hold of his shoulders. John bent him forward as Charlie tied his hands behind his back. She finished and looked up to see John with a faint smile on his face.

“Do my knots amuse you?” She said as lightly as she could manage. The feel of Dave’s flesh, alive yet limp and heavier than it should have been, was disturbing, and as she let go of him, she could still feel the traces of his clammy skin on her palms.

He shrugged. “All those times we played cops and robbers seem to have paid off.”

She almost laughed.

“I forgot about that,” she admitted. He nodded sagely.

“And yet I still bear the scars of the rope burns you gave me.” John smiled.

“And that was before I was even a Girl Scout,” Charlie said. “Stop complaining and pick up his feet. Let’s hope my skills haven’t atrophied.”

She finished tying Dave up, pretending a confidence she did not really have—the cords were thick and stiff; they were hard to manipulate, and she was not sure how long they would hold. When she was as sure as she could be, she stepped back.

John looked around for a moment as though searching for something, then slipped out through the door without a word.

Carlton was on his knees, and he walked toward Dave without standing, a clunky, unsteady walk—he looked like he might tip over at any moment. “Wakey, wakey, sleepy head,” he whispered.

“We’ve got this, Carlton; thanks. You just relax.” She rolled her eyes toward Jessica, then turned her attention back to Dave, slapping his face lightly, but he remained inert.

“Hey, dirt-bag. Wake up.” She slapped him again.

“Here try this.” John reappeared with a can of water. “Water fountain,” was the only explanation he offered. “The can didn’t hold much,” he added.

“That’s okay,” Charlie said. She took it from him and held it over Dave’s head, letting the small streams of water dribbling from the holes in the tin fall on his face. She aimed for his mouth, and after a few moments, he spluttered, his eyes opening.

“Oh, good, you’re awake,” Charlie said, and dumped the rest of the water on his head.

He said nothing, but his eyes remained open in a stiff, unnatural stare.

“So, Dave,” she said. “How about you tell us what’s going on?”

His mouth opened slightly but no words came out. After a moment he became still again, so still that Charlie reluctantly pressed her fingers to his neck to check for a pulse.

“Is he alive?” John said, creeped out by what seemed to be an on-again off-again animated corpse. He moved closer to the man, kneeling so their eyes were at a level, and looked at him gravely, as if he were searching for something.

“His pulse is normal,” Charlie reported. She pulled her hand back, more startled than if he’d been dead.

“Charlie, there’s something different about him,” John said urgently. He reached out and grasped Dave’s chin, turning his head back and forth. Dave did not resist, just kept staring without expression, as if the world around him were not really there.

“What do you mean?” Charlie said, though she saw it, too. It was as if the guard, the man they had met, had been stripped away, and what sat before them was nothing but a blank canvas.