Silent Partner

Then Frank pulled his cannon and blew a hole in the kid the size of a beer can, and the crew stopped laughing.

For one second, one magical moment, nothing happened. We all just froze, everyone staring at the dead goblin kid crumpled up next to the fruit display by the window.

It didn’t last.

Engines revved and horns blared and cars jumped the curb, trying to get the hell out of there. Everyone panicked, running and ducking and screaming. Everyone but the goblins. They didn't run; they crouched.

They weren't screaming either. Instead, they growled some sort of tribal chant, low and slow, the kind of deep buzzing you feel in your molars. With everyone else screaming and running and diving, Frank and the goblins were completely still.

I pulled my own piece and my badge. "Trinity!" I screamed, too high and shrill. "Everyone, on the ground!" They ignored me. Frank too. This wasn't my dance. "On the ground!" I shouted again.





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