Ghoulies Abroad by Julie Steimle (ebook reader with built in dictionary .txt) 📕

“They are pure evil,” Rick said gravely.

Tom swatted him on the head. “That’s my line.”

But Rick shrugged, ducking.

Chen peered at Rick. “How did you know that? You can’t see them.”

Shrugging more, Rick explained in a word, “Eve.”

Everyone in the Seven nodded. Michael was smirking.

“Man…” Tom muttered, stalking back to their bags to pack up. “I gotta meet this vimp.

The group chuckled at that.

But Sun Wukong paled. His eyes widened on Rick then Tom. “Vimp?”

Anticipating his response to their often-objected-to acquaintance, Andy jumped to the Monkey King. “She’s ok. We’ve all met her.”

But Sun Wukong stared more, apparently knowing a great deal about vimps. Possibly he had met one or two in his lifetime. Maybe even battled one at one point.

Rick came up to him, setting a hand on his arm. “She isn’t like the previous vimps.”

“How do you—?” Sun Wukong bristled, getting worked up as this particular news apparently had come to him like an impossibility. He looked like he was feeling betrayed.

“Sun Wukong,” Rick said, gazing into his reddening eyes, holding on his arm tight. “You yourself were once a demon condemned. A demon can change.”

The room went silent.

The burning color in Sun Wukong’s eyes cooled as he absorbed Rick’s words. And he really thought about them. Seriously thought about them… for solid minute, and longer.

His eyes flickered to the Seven inquisitively after a bit and he leaned back as he said, “The vimp was born to destroy the Holy Seven—each generation… and you say you have seen her.”

“Met,” Michael corrected, raising a finger, saying it clearly so the Monkey King would not misunderstand. “As in we have talked with her and even fought with her.”

“Fought with her?” Sun Wukong peered at him sideways. “And yet you let her live? Or did you just barely survive?”

“She has not harmed a soul,” Daniel said, approaching him.

“She’s even saved a few souls,” Tom added, smirking. Several grateful eyes turned to him. “My best friend Matt—for one.”

Sun Wukong stared at him long. The others except for Chen had heard the story about how Eve had saved Matthew’s life. They decided not to tell him how she had saved Matthew. Her method was drastic and her foe a nasty piece of work.

“She also saved my life once.” Michael raised a hand.

“And mine,” Rick chimed in, nodding.

Those in the Seven grinned. Indeed, McAllister was only a monster in the technical sense—just like Sun Wukong.

“We call her the dark angel,” Tom added, folding his arms.

“Even though you’ve never met her?” Sun Wukong peered at him as if he knew Tom was insane.

“We have a friend who can see future events,” Rick explained, leaving out that the events in question were deaths of the individuals he was looking at. Their friend had seen Eve prevent deaths in their lives.

Then Sun Wukong looked to the Seven again. “And you people let her live… even though you know the vimp’s potential for evil—especially in these last days….”

 Shivers ran down the arms of the Seven. It sounded prophetic how Sun Wukong had said that.

“What do you mean, ‘these last days’?” Chen asked, glancing warily at the others.

“Never mind.” Sun Wukong waved it off, deciding this was not an argument to have in this moment. “We have work to do.” He quickly shrunk down his staff and tucked it into his ear—which every one of them though was weird even though they had seen it in print and in those Monkey King movies all the time that was where he kept the thing. It just looked like he was sticking a needle in his ear.

The bathroom door opened. James stepped out with a towel around his waist. Seeing them all standing there, he stared back. “What? Were you all waiting for the toilet?”

Tom laughed and pushed past him. “Yes!” And he gleefully shut the door behind him.

James shook his head, walking through the rest of them to his backpack on the bed.

Chapter Twenty

Out of the Seven, Michael Toms had always been the one who acted on the fringe. He hardly ever worked with the group in a strategy, and he had a sad record of being taken captive by the enemy more than all the others, so none of them had suspected that Michael was in fact a brilliant strategist. But he was.

Michael planned it all. And, because they really did not have a solid plan of attack, they decided to go with his plan. There was one small snag. Michael would have to go into the factory alone with Chen and Sun Wukong. And three (though skilled) people against a horde of demons who were holding other elves captive to make their dirty bombs seemed insanely risky.

“Not the safest idea,” Rick muttered as he walked to his designated station where he was told to wait for when needed, and to act as a ‘lookout’. He was also alone. His usual bodyguard, Tom, had been given specific instructions to literally shadow Andy in his shadow to not be ‘seen’ while Andy acted as a lure to draw some of the demonic enemy out while others broke down their defenses not far away. And their enemy’s defenses were top notch. They had all the latest tech.

“So…” Rick whispered into the prototype communications device Semour had given them a ways back, “…I spy with my little eye several CCTV cameras. How do we take them out? In most movies people create video loops. How do we do that?”

Semour’s voice came from another location that spied on the factory not too far off. << I’ll do that. I learned that hack from Dad. >>

<< From your dad? >> Daniel chuckled. << I though he was just one of those data handlers. >>

<< He was a programmer for pity’s sake. Special contractor for the government. >> Semour muttered. << Didn’t I tell you? >>

They had total silence on all sides.

“No.” Rick huffed. “Why didn’t you tell us?”

<< Oh yeah. >> Semour chuckled. << It was top secret. My bad. >>

They could hear James chuckling.

<< But your dad worked for the government all this time? >> Daniel protested, sounding upset that he had never caught on.

<< It’s not that big of a deal. It wasn’t like James Bond work or anything, >> Semour explained. << He just tested the programs for military vehicles and stuff to get out the bugs. You don’t want faulty tech when you are going out to war after all. >>

<< Ok, so create the loop then, >> Andy said. << And be quick about it. >>

<< Already recorded. I am just waiting for Sir Long Shanks to get in there. They have to see him enter the building first. I’ll let you all know when I start the loop. >>

<< Got it. >>

Rick wished that information would reassure him. But it didn’t. He could not be in the factory since the demons were most likely expecting him—and by now they would be. He just hoped they would not recognize Chen’s face. Sun Wukong had tried to teach Chen how to make himself take the appearance of another person—he believed he could teach Chen how to do it anyway. He had said the Bai Nian family had been masters of disguise. However, Chen struggled with it and they settled for him getting really cleaned up and made to look classy and dignified. The Clark Kent effect, basically. Tom had snickered and said it would work, but Rick had misgivings.

Michael’s hired driver drove him to the front doors of the building, parking on the curb. Before stepping out, Michael exchanged whispered looks with Chen and Sun Xiansheng before opening the car door. “Remember, we do nothing ‘out of character’ until we get the signal from the others that they are also in the building.”

“What if the signal gets jammed?” Sun Xiansheng asked. “These demons aren’t messing around.”

Smiling at him, Michael replied, “I have more faith in Sir Cooly’s technical skills than theirs. Trust me.”

He opened the door to the vehicle and climbed out. They followed him. To the human eye, they looked like an American businessman with two ordinary Chinese translators. To the demon eye, which was what was following them from the building, they looked like three unknown, yet powerful beings. Those anticipating Michael Toms had heard various rumors about him, but they were curious rather than fearful of him. He was just one man after all. And a mortal. It wasn’t like he had an army behind him. As for the two Chinese men with him—those unknowns—the demons figured well that Michael would choose powerful bodyguards to protect him.

The owner of the establishment greeted them in the front offices. The hapless man had long been possessed, his human identity obliterated but his human face still quite useful. Michael could feel what he was, though. The owner smiled, hand out for a shake.

Michael obliged him with a business grip, shaking firmly to distract from the warmth that would be coming from his hand. He had a bandage on his palm as a buffer of course. “Thank you for having me. My father has been interested in the work you have been doing here, and I wanted to see it for myself.”

“What happened to your hand, may I ask?” the owner said, feeling the bandage and the warmth still combing from it despite the small cold pad pressed against it.

Chuckling, Michael replied, “Oh. I had burned my hand. Grabbed something hot. It will be ok.”

 “I see. I’ll be gentle then,” the owner replied in a slightly Hong Kong British type of accent. “Though, I must ask, why did your father send you instead of sending one of his regular representatives?”

“Well,” Michael started into a stroll alongside him, hands now tucking into his inner pants pockets, his customary overcoat swaying with the weight of a hidden sword, though none of it was actually seen, “If we are going to be importing your appliances, we want to make sure they will be the quality items we wish our customers to purchase. It is customary for my father to myself to personally inspect the businesses we intend to deal with. And I was curious.”

“Curious?” The owner smiled at him, angling his head as if there were no reason to be curious about any Chinese factory.

“Well, yes,” Michael replied with a chuckle. “When I Googled Lianyungang—which no one stateside has really ever heard of (no offense)—it came up with the funniest pictures of monkeys, information about a sea port, and obscure tourist spots. It’s not a very big city. No airport. It’s not like it is Beijing or anything.”

His smile faltering a little, the owner replied, “Well, the city is still developing.”

“Of course,” Michael said, smiling. “But we must weigh the costs of shipping, you understand.”

Outside, the Seven were overhearing the conversation. Rick listened intently through his earpiece which Semour also conveniently had provided. Semour later explained that Michael had commissioned him to make them for the Seven, just in case. At the time Michael had requested this favor, Semour had just thought it was a good idea.