HOLES IN THE GROUND.

by Iain Rob Wright

Chapter One.

The hotel room's phone rang so loud that the receiver rattled on its cradle. There were many things that Andrew Dennison was thankful for: Worldwide Translation Services was finally making a profit, his debts had evaporated, and his beautiful wife lay sleeping and naked beside him, but an early morning phone call still brought misery regardless of how great life was otherwise.

RING RING.

Andy glanced at the clock next to the bed. Coming up on 7am San Diego time. If he didn't pick up the call he'd only lie in bed wondering who it was. Any chance of regaining sleep was ruined.

Andy rolled over and fumbled for the receiver. He managed to pluck it from its holder and pressed it against the side of his face. "H-hello?"

"Mr Dennison?"

Andy sat up against the cushioned headboard. "Yes."

"This is the hotel manager. I've been receiving reports of a disturbance on your floor. Is everything okay?"

Andy cleared his throat and rubbed sleep from his eyes. "Huh? Yeah, everything is fine. I was sleeping."

"My apologies, sir. I have been trying to call the rooms adjacent to you, but they are not answering. I'm unsure what exactly is going on, but other guests have been complaining of shouting and...someone speaking in a strange language."

"I'm American. I speak English."

"Of course, sir. It's just that the credit card details you provided us are registered to Worldwide Translation Services. I thought-"

Andy sighed, blinked his crusty eyelids. "I understand why you made that jump but, like I said, I've been asleep with my wife. It's our honeymoon."

"Of course, sir. I am sorry to have woken you. Please call reception if you hear anything."

"Will do."

The manager was still speaking when Andy put down the phone. He slid back down beneath the covers and turned to face his bride.

Sun was awake. Her eyes were open. A smirk adorned her face as she spoke in a dozy whisper. "I hope you're not making clandestine calls to other women, Mr Dennison. I only married you yesterday."

Andy thought about the previous day and how wonderful everything had been. The small ceremony in a rural church. He smiled. "It was the hotel manager. Apparently someone has been making a racket and he thought it was me. Obviously I look like some kind of hell raiser."

Sun laughed. "If only they knew the truth."

Andy chuckled and ran his fingers along Sun's naked hips. Her skin was hot and inviting. Her perfume mingled with her natural musk.

It was time to do what honeymooners did.

There was a knock at the door.

Andy sat back up in bed. This time he shoved the covers aside and stood up. "Goddamn it. If that's somebody from the hotel I'm going to blow a fuse."

"Maybe it's the real hell raiser," Sun called out from the bed.

Andy stopped and stared at the door. There was a chance that whoever was at the door was the aforementioned troublemaker, the person causing all the complaints. It might be a bad idea opening up.

Then again, how dangerous can somebody staying at the Coronado be? Not many gangbangers staying in five star luxury resorts.

Andy sighed, pulled on his pants and shirt then padded over to the door. He opened it huffily, ready to give whoever was on the other side an earful.

"TlhIngan maH!"

What the Hell...

Andy blinked, then frowned at the bleary-eyed teenager standing in the hallway. He couldn't help but shake his head in confusion. "I'm sorry?"

The boy wobbled in place, part human being part strawberry jelly. Then he repeated the strange expression. "TlhIngan maH!"

Andy rubbed a hand across his chin and felt stubble. "Is that... Is that Klingon?"

"Qapla!"

Andy got over his surprise and remembered his irritation at being awoken. "Look, son. I speak many languages-probably some you've never even heard of-but right now I have no idea what gibberish is coming out of your mouth. You've obviously had too much to drink at the hotel bar. You should go to bed. There's already been complaints about you, so I'd lay low if I were you."

The boy leant forwards, almost staggered into Andy. Andy had to put a hand out just to stop the boy flopping into the wall.

"W-what are you doing in my room, dude?"

Andy shoved the boy back a step. He did so firmly, but not so hard as to provoke a fight. "I think you'll find this is my room, dude. Now go away before I call hotel security."

"You gotta help me. I'm...I'm so goddamn high right now."

Andy growled. "That's your problem. Why should I help you when you can't even help yourself?"

The boy wobbled again but smiled merrily as if his lack of balance was an amusing challenge to contend with. "I thought this was my room. It looks like my room."

"It's a hotel. All the rooms look alike. Are you on holiday? Here with your parents? It sounds like you're from England."

The boy sneered but couldn't seem to control his facial muscles enough to keep the expression on his face. "Parents? Don't talk to me about...about parents. Bloody parents. Bloody knobhead England. Screw it all."

Andy sighed. The boy was a complete mess, flying high on God knew what. Yet there was something about him that was quite innocent, almost cheerful. Besides being an annoyance, the boy was obviously harmless and in need of assistance.

"What's your room number, kid?"

The boy's eyes rolled back in his head for a moment, then a brief flash of sobriety returned to him. "204," he mumbled.

Andy huffed. "This is the fourth floor. You're not even on the right floor."

"Let's get him cleaned up," said Sun, moving up behind Andy and surprising him. She rubbed a hand over his rump and squeezed. He noticed that she had gotten dressed while he had been dealing with the kid.

Andy shook his head at her. "You want me to let this moron inside our room?"

Sun shrugged her shoulders. "Today is our first day as man and wife. What type of family do you want to be? One who closes the door in people's faces, or one that helps people when they need it?"

Andy looked at the inebriated boy and considered what a bad idea letting him in would be.

He grabbed the lad by the scruff of his jacket and dragged him inside before closing the door with his foot.

Sun took the boy by the arm and sat him down on one of the room's plush armchairs.

"I'm too tired for this nonsense," said Andy as he rubbed at his eyes. "I just woke up."

"Well, we're up now," said Sun, "so let's get this mess cleaned up and then we can go get breakfast."

The thought of hot, fattening breakfast meats made Andy's tummy grumble. Instantly his tiredness was gone. He pulled up a seat opposite the English boy and stared at him. "What's your name, kid?"

"J-Jerry."

"Okay, Jerry. My name is Andy and this is my wife, Sun."

"Sun? Funny name."

"I'm Vietnamese," Sun added.

Jerry nodded and smiled. "I like Italians."

Andy frowned. "Yeah...okay. Sun is a vet and I am a translator. We're here on our Honeymoon. Why are you at the hotel?"

"Comic Con."

"I'm sorry, what?"

Sun chuckled. "It's a convention they have here every year in the city. Part of the reason this room cost so much is because it's going on right now. It's for people who love comics and superheroes, that kind of stuff."

Andy looked up at his wife, entertained by the fact that she knew such a thing. "So this guy's a big nerd then?"

"Hey, who you calling a nerd?"

"Sorry, would 'walking train wreck' be more appropriate?"

The boy tried to sit forward but failed. He looked like a floundering fish in the oversized armchair. "I ain't no train wreck, man. I just have a few...issues."

Andy softened a little bit. "Okay, well, let me just tell you that getting shit-brained on whatever substance you can get your paws on is not the way to solve whatever issues you may have. It's not my place to judge you, kid, but you're not doing yourself any favours."

The boy stared down at the floor, whether in shame or because he was having trouble focusing was unclear.

Sun went and made some coffee while Andy sat with the boy in silence. His best guess was that the lad was late teens to early twenties. He was wearing jeans and trainers with a stripy blue-and-white soccer shirt. His jacket was tatty leather. A badge clipped to the lapel read: 'PROBE ME HARDER'. The boy's greasy shoulder-length brown hair looked like it hadn't been washed in weeks.

Sun handed the boy a steaming mug. "It's breakfast tea," she said. "That's what English people like, right?"

Andy raised an eyebrow at his wife. "Way to stereotype the guy, Sun."

"Just shut up and drink your coffee. I'm Vietnamese; you think I don't deserve to get to do the stereotyping once in a while?"

"Point taken." Andy turned his attention back to the boy. "So, Jerry, are you visiting Comic Con with friends?"

He shook his head. "I'm here alone."

Sun looked sad. "Alone? You came all the way from England on your own?"

"Nobody else would come. I only have one good friend and he...well, things are complicated between us right now. It's a ball ache."

"Nice expression," said Sun. "Hope it's not literal."

"So where did you get the drugs from?" Andy asked.

"From Batman."

"You got your drugs from Batman?"

"Some guy dressed as Batman."

Andy was confused and couldn't think what question to ask next. The conversation had taken a turn towards the surreal.

Sun placed a hand on Andy's neck and pinched tenderly. "Honey, I think he's telling you that he got the drugs from someone at the convention in a batman costume. They all dress up to go to these things."

"Oh," said Andy. "I understand...sort of."

"I've never done drugs before," said Jerry, a weariness creeping into his voice. "I just thought, what the hell, you only live once."

"That life can be very short," said Sun. "Especially if you throw it away by abusing your body. Believe me. Before I was a vet I was a doctor. I know what drugs can do to young people."

Jerry nodded in silence. He seemed to have sobered up a little in the last few minutes. Perhaps the tea was doing its job.

Maybe tea is like medicine to the English.

Gee, now who's the one stereotyping, Andy?

Jerry looked up at Sun suddenly, a smile stretching his face. "Hey, you said that you're a vet?"