Darkfall

shouted that there were rats in her room; and then she started carrying on about goblins, nearly hysterical. I tried to tell her it was only a nightmare-”
    “It wasn’t a nightmare!” Penny shouted.
    “Of course it was,” Faye said.
    “They’ve been watching me all day,” Penny said. “And there was one of them in our room last night, Daddy. And in the school basement today-a whole bunch of them. They chewed up Davey’s lunch. And my books, too. I don’t know what they want, but they’re after us, and they’re goblins, real goblins, I swear!”
    “Okay,” Jack said. “I want to hear all of this, every detail. But later. Now, we have to get out of here.”
    Rebecca brought their clothes.
    Jack said, “Get dressed. Don’t bother taking off your pajamas. Just put your clothes on over them.”
    Faye said, “What on earth-”
    “We’ve got to get the kids out of here,” Jack said. “Fast.”
    “But you act as if you actually believe this goblin talk,” Faye said, astonished.
    Keith said, “I sure don’t believe in goblins, but I sure do believe we have some rats.”
    “No, no, no,” Faye said, scandalized. “We can’t. Not in this building.”
    “In the ventilation system,” Keith said. “I heard them myself. That’s why I was trying to see in there with the flashlight when you came busting in, Jack.”
    “ Sssshhh ,” Rebecca said. “Listen.”
    The kids continued to get dressed, but no one spoke.
    At first Jack heard nothing. Then… a peculiar hissing-muttering- growling.
    That’s no damned rat, he thought.
    Inside the wall, something rattled. Then a scratching sound, a furious scrabbling. Industrious noises: clinking, tapping, scraping, thumping.
    Faye said, “My God.”
    Jack took the flashlight from Keith, went to the dresser, pointed the light at the duct. The beam was bright and tightly focused, but it did little to dispel the blackness that pooled beyond the slots in the vent plate.
    Another thump in the wall.
    More hissing and muted growling.
    Jack felt a prickling along the back of his neck.
    Then, incredibly, a voice came out of the duct. It was a hoarse, crackling, utterly inhuman voice, thick with menace: “Penny? Davey? Penny?”
    Faye cried out and stumbled back a couple of steps.
    Even Keith, who was a big and rather formidable man, went pale and moved away from the vent. “What the devil was that? ”
    To Faye, Jack said, “Where’re the kids’ coats and boots? Their gloves?”
    “Uh… in… in the kitchen. D-Drying out.”
    “Get them.”
    Faye nodded but didn’t move.
    Jack put a hand on her shoulder. “Get their coats and boots and gloves, then meet us by the front door.”
    She couldn’t take her eyes off the vent.
    He shook her. “Faye! Hurry!”
    She jumped as if he’d slapped her face, turned, and ran out of the bedroom.
    Penny was almost dressed, and she was holding up remarkably well, scared but in control. Davey was sitting on the edge of the bed, trying not to cry, crying anyway, wiping at the tears on his face, glancing apologetically at Penny and biting his lip and trying very hard to follow her example; his legs were dangling over the side of the bed, and Rebecca was hastily tying his shoes for him.
    From the vent: “Davey? Penny?”
    “Jack, for Christ’s sake, what’s going on here?”
    Keith asked.
    Not bothering to respond, having no time or patience for questions and answers just now, Jack pointed the flashlight at the vent again and glimpsed movement in the duct. Something silvery lay in there; it glowed and flickered like a white-hot fire-then blinked and was gone. In its place, something dark appeared, shifted, pushed against the vent plate for a moment, as if trying hard to dislodge it, then withdrew when the plate held. Jack couldn’t see enough of the creature to get a clear idea of its general appearance.
    Keith said, “Jack. The vent screw.”
    Jack had already seen it. The screw was revolving, slowly coming out of the edge of the vent plate. The creature inside the duct was turning the screw, unfastening it from the other side of the flange to which the plate was attached. The thing was muttering, hissing, and grumbling softly while it worked.
    “Let’s go,” Jack said, striving to keep his voice calm. “Come on, come on. Let’s get out of here right now.”
    The screw popped loose. The vent plate swung down, away from the ventilation outlet, hanging from the one remaining screw.
    Rebecca hustled the kids toward