Ghoulies Abroad, Julie Steimle [libby ebook reader .TXT] 📗

have starved and their economies have stifled. I mean, look at North Korea. No wonder demons have secretly thrived here. Red caps probably have a field day with all the death. And on top of that, they got rid of their natural demon hunters in the name of modernization. For all we know, demons have been influencing this entire process.”

“I think you are just being cynical,” Eddie said. “Don’t you think those governments would have attacked demons as well?”

Smirking at him, Rick replied with a glance to Chen, “You do not send the army to do the work of a master. Ordinary foot soldiers get slaughtered. That is one of the messages in the Monkey King.”

“Is it?” Andy asked, mostly thinking about what he had read.

Chen shrugged.

But Rick nodded. “Sure it is. The Monkey King defeated the armies of heaven single handedly—and only Buddha could stop him.”

Andy nodded, recalling that part. Then he eyed Rick. “You read the story before?”

Rolling his eyes, Rick replied, “Wikipedia…. And it happens in nearly every Monkey King movie I have seen so far.”

They stared at him.

“Look, when something repeats in every movie, it has to be cannon,” explained Rick. He went back to eating his chicken.

They still stared. Then he realized why they were staring.

“I’m not saying they killed Buddha or anything,” Rick added after a swallow. “What I am saying is that I doubt regular mortals have the ability to defeat demons without divine help—China went totally atheist.”

“At least in the government,” Chen interjected. They glanced to him. Chen added, “The people still burn ghost money and still visit temples.”

“True,” Rick then gazed out the window, wondering. “Monks are still around.”

“Even the Soviet Union was unable to wipe out religious influence in its borders,” Tom interjected, sitting like a normal person for once after the thousandth selfie with a Chinese girl. But then he was in a very public place and he looked significantly tired. “The Russian Orthodox church still survived.”

“As did Confucianism, Taoism, and Buddhism in China,” Chen added. He looked out the window also, thinking about that.

Rick nodded, swallowing a bit more chicken. “True. But they merely survived. I would not describe any of those as thriving as much as making a resurgence.”

“Why do you think that is?” Semour muttered, clearing off the last of his paper wrappings to his chicken burger. He looked prepared to nap in the corner of their booth seat.

“Perhaps the modern Chinese finally recognized that the old stuff was worthwhile,” Tom said. He looked inclined to sleep there in the booth as well.

“When China joined the World Trade Organization,” Rick murmured out loud, “the government realized they needed to embrace certain freedoms so their nation could progress. And that included ideas.”

They ate in silence for a while. All of them were getting tired and it was still midday. Jet lag had set in. Or maybe it was just the tryptophan from the chicken.

“Do you think that was all it was?” Andy asked, eating up the last bit of his sandwich. “Because I still don’t think China is as free as all that.”

“Partly,” Rick said, smirking. “But that little bit of freedom helped improve things. Why else is there a KFC in China?”

“Freedom is a pretty darn good thing,” Chen said, nodding. And he finished off his chicken.

Beset Upon

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

Chapter Ten

 

 

Trouble started the moment they returned to the hotel. When they stepped into the lobby, it seemed that everyone was staring at them. The Seven tensed up, clenched their fists, and marched a little faster. When they got to their rooms, one of the doors was open and a cleaning cart was outside. However, inside that room the maid seemed to be ransacking it. The moment she set her eyes on the returning occupants—Eddie and Semour—she let out an unearthly shriek and jumped at them.

Of course they fought back.

And theirs was not the only room under invasion. As soon as she screamed, more staff came running. Claws and fangs. Fiery red eyes. Wings and scales. Boar’s teeth and hairy pustules. And when whatever they were set eyes Chen, they most especially attacked him.

But Chen was quicker, snaking out his clothes as an anaconda and biting back.

Every sword was out. Rick backed away from a demon with elongating claws and shark’s teeth, while Tom landed a flying kick across the side of the demon’s skull. Rick looked to security cameras, wondering if they were picking up this at all.

“No! That’s my laptop you bloody monster!” Semour shouted, slashing whatever it was that was in his room.

Laptop? Rick wondered where his was. And why were these demons after their tech?

He dashed into his room. Andy was atop a demon, stabbing him straight through his chest on the bed. Andy’s red sword went in deep and through the comforter, going straight down through the mattress to the wood bedframe.

“Oh….” Rick looked around at the damage in the room. Battle scars in the wallpaper and blood splatter on the things around the warzone—there was no way he could clean it up. But then his mind went back to his laptop. He had stashed it in what he thought was a safe place from prying thieves’ eyes under his mattress at the head of the bed. Unfortunately a bloody demon was now on top of it. Rick ran in, pushing Andy out of his way. He pried up the mattress.

“What are you doing?” Andy stared. He yanked his bloody sword out of the demon and bed, wiping the weapon on the demon’s clothes. Some of the blood had been trod on in the carpet.

Extracting the laptop from its hiding place, Rick checked it over. It was fine. Untouched. The echoes of battle still came from the hallway, though the shouts were becoming increasingly Chinese. Panic washed over him. His eyes raked over the blood, clawed-up wallpaper, the torn bedding, and hacked furniture again, knowing he would have to do damage control. The worst part of it was, all of them might get hauled off to jail. Or at least he thought that until Tom abruptly showed up at Rick’s elbow, his eyes wide with meaning. They both wished that Matthew was there to help them fix this.

“Ok, we’ve got a problem,” Rick said, turning quickly to Andy.

“Yeah,” Andy said through his teeth, his eyes savage in watch. “Demons.”

Rick shook his head in exasperation. “Not that. We have to check out of this hotel now, but we can’t just leave it like this.”

“You’d kinda wish we could wave a magic wand to fix this. Or a reset button,” Tom murmured, gazing at the claw marks on the ceiling. “It’s a shame really we don’t. It would have been convenient.”

Andy delivered Tom a dry look. “I think fending off demons is our priority.”

Huffing, Rick snapped, “Yeah, I’m sure. But in the real world somebody has to pay for the damages—or have a really darn good excuse that regular folk can understand.”

Looking around himself, finally taking in his surroundings with blinking eyes, Andy drew in a breath.

 “Abey, sometimes I think your mind is still stuck back in that other world.” Rick then quickly went about gathering up his things.

Huffing loud, Andy said while hurriedly doing the same, “First you are mad at me for being too involved in this world, and now you are mad at me for being in that one. Make up your mind!”

Shooting him a wan look, Rick replied, “Please inhabit both. Because that is what we are dealing with right now.”

“I’ve got an idea,” Tom said, hopping onto the bed. He nearly missed the dead demon’s head when he landed. His grin crooked up with devious enjoyment. Both Andy and Rick gazed at him then shared a hopeful glance.

 

Suitcases and backpacks full and loaded, every guy in the Seven marched down from the wreckage that was their rooms, going out of the hotel. Chen stayed back with Rick to check them out in the lobby. Tom was nowhere to be seen.

At the counter, Rick rushed up looking pale and gasping. He slapped all the hotel room cards down on the counter, breathlessly explaining, “I am not staying here another night. Those rooms are haunted.”

The hotel staff stared at him then looked to Chen who quickly translated. Gazing back at them both with longsuffering stares, the clerk explained, “This hotel is not haunted.”

“Those rooms are! Go see!” Rick pointed upwards. He shoved their cards across the counter at the staff.

Wearily, yet with a calm façade, the hotel clerk sent in an order for the staff to clean the rooms. Rick waited for what would happen next. Tom’s plans were ingenious. And his sense of humor often brought about the right end result. At times Rick was sure this was one of the reasons the CIA wanted him so badly and never fired him for all his shenanigans. They liked his shenanigans as long as they were not directed at them. Rick could already pick up the screams. He just needed to keep playing the part.

“Yaomo!” Several young and old woman dashed into the clerk’s area from the upstairs, pale as death and pointing back the way they had come. “Yaomo! You yaoguai!”

“See?” Rick said. He shook his head. “We can’t stay here.” He dug into his pocket to pay up for the rooms, slapping down money for more than the rooms were worth.

“Wo kan ta! Huibai pifu. Baise tou fa. Hupose de yanjing!” They were describing Tom.

“Hai you sishi de yaoguai!”

Filled with so much skepticism, the receptionist herself stormed back to see what they were talking about. “Bu keyi.”

However soon they heard her from upstairs as well. As the woman herself screamed in horrified panic for help on the upper floors, a few police officers marched into the lobby, mentioning reports about a wild animal on the loose in the hotel. Something about a foreigner bringing in a snake. The police ran toward the sound of her screams.

Chen shot Rick a meaningful look.

Not saying anything, Rick looked back to the counter clerks. “Take our money and check us out. We are not staying here anymore.”

Chen translated.

Though one of the ladies nodded, another hissed that they had no authority to handle that transaction.

More commotion came from above. They could actually hear thumping feet. Someone in the staff ran for help. A hotel manager came back, anxious and confused over what was happening.

“You are checking out early?” the manager inquired in decent English.

“Yes,” Rick explained once more, patiently. “Our rooms are haunted, so we are not staying here.”

The manager stared at him, then at Chen for a translation. Chen repeated what Rick had said in Mandarin, making it clear the man had not mistaken them.

“Ghosts?”

Yet the staff next to him repeated what they had seen and what had happed. The manager paled. He immediately rushed to go see for himself.

Soon more police came in. These were carrying stretchers and body bags. Trailing in after them was the tour group from that morning. All of the tourists were chatting, looking full and some looking drunk. Only a few were curious as to what was going on. Some of the police remained in the lobby, herding passersby out of the way.

Something itched Rick’s nose. He sneezed.

When the manager returned, a police officer