Temporary Monsters by Craig Shaw Gardner

Author:Craig Shaw Gardner [Gardner, Craig Shaw]
Language: eng
Format: epub
Publisher: InterMix
Published: 2013-01-01T05:00:00+00:00

Chapter Thirteen

The door was flung open with such force that even Bruno was thrown to the ground. Lenny fell on top of the large man as two shadowy men in raincoats stepped into the game room. The Dimm had returned.

Lenny took a deep breath. He was shaken but not hurt. Bruno groaned beneath him, where he had cushioned Lenny’s fall.

What were the Dimm doing here? After the rhyming rats, Lenny was sure he’d see his Terrifitemps team on the other side of that door. But he saw only the Dimm, clad in raincoats and shadows.

“How dare you interfere!” Foo shouted as the two moved silently into the room.

One of them strode up to Foo. The shadows followed, obscuring the game consoles to either side. “We do apologize. This would have been over long ago, if not for the nature of our subject’s power.”

“There is no doubt now this Lenny Hodge is the one,” the other added from his position by the door. As if to prove the Dimm’s point, Lenny heard the distant sounds of the buffalo chorus singing “The Yellow Rose of Texas.”

“No more World War One fighting songs?” Swami Phil smiled beatifically as he tapped his foot to the buffalo chorus. “They’ve started singing Americana!”

“We need the man who brought them here.” The Dimm who had confronted Foo turned to regard Lenny and Bruno, both just pushing themselves off the floor. “Lenny Hodge, you cannot escape your destiny.”

The swami stepped forward to block the Dimm’s path.

“Pardon me, but what exactly is Lenny’s destiny?”

“And who might you be?” asked the Dimm by the door.

“I am Swami Phil,” he said with a slight bow. “I know the secrets of the East. Also the secrets of the West and South, although there’s not as much call for those. I’m still working on the secrets of the North. A fellow has to have a hobby, after all.”

The Dimm’s shadow crept across the swami. Phil’s smile faltered ever so slightly. “The short answer,” he added quickly, “is I am the greatest seer I know, and whatever is going on with this fellow”—he waved both hands at Lenny—“is completely beyond me.”

“We have no need of swamis. If you would step aside?” Both Dimm grunted as one, as if dismissing the swami from further consideration. Then the shadow men turned toward Lenny. “You have no means of escape.”

The Dimm glided in Lenny’s direction. No one moved to stop them. The Dimm towered over everyone. They grew more direct, more powerful. Even their shadows were longer than before. They paused, side by side, half a dozen paces from Lenny.

“You have eluded us before. We can take no more chances.” The two spoke as one. “We were forced to call in our supervisor.”

Lenny looked up to see—something else—walk through the door.

If the Dimm were difficult to see, their superior was entirely beyond comprehension—a rolling mass of darkness that Lenny found impossible to focus on. His gaze kept shifting elsewhere, to Sheila and the swami, quaking with apprehension,

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