“Okay, let’s go.”
They stood at the kitchen door for a few seconds and David tucked Laurel tightly under his arm. After pressing a quick kiss to her forehead, he asked, “You ready?”
“Yeah.”
They both took a few deep breaths, then David grabbed Laurel’s hand and pushed the door open. “Go!” he commanded in a hissing whisper.
Hand in hand they ran toward David’s Civic, about fifty feet away. They ducked around several cars before throwing open the doors and jumping into their seats. “Do you think he saw us?” she asked as she shoved the key in the ignition and cranked the engine.
“I don’t know.”
“I can’t leave if they didn’t see us.”
“Well, what do you propose we do?” David asked, peering out his window into the darkness.
Laurel took a quick breath, hardly daring to even think about what she was about to do. Before she could change her mind she slipped out of the driver’s seat and jumped up and down, waving her arms. “Hey! You looking for me?”
A dark shape rose up twenty feet in front of them. Laurel gasped and threw herself back into the car and shoved the gearshift into reverse. The troll rushed forward, its navy coveralls and fearsome visage illuminated by the Civic’s headlights. It slammed its hands down on the hood of the car just as the stick shift popped into place.
“Go, go, go!” David screamed.
Laurel slammed one foot on the gas and popped her other off the clutch so fast the car shot backward, almost hitting the truck parked behind them. The troll stumbled into the spot where the car had just been, but it was already getting to its feet. Laurel shoved the stick into first gear and peeled out of the driveway. David was twisted around in his seat, staring out the back window.
“David!” Laurel shouted. “Watch for cars for me. I can’t stop at the stop sign up here.”
David turned forward and peered into the darkness in both directions. As they approached the intersection Laurel’s foot hovered over the brake.
“You’re all clear. Go!”
Laurel pressed on the gas, carrying the car through the intersection. She stepped hard on the brake as she turned off the road that led to Ryan’s house and onto Pebble Beach Drive. The car skidded and the tires protested noisily, but Laurel managed to keep the headlights facing the right direction.
“It just came around the corner,” David said when they were less than ten seconds up the road. “It’s wicked fast.”
“The speed limit’s thirty-five here. How fast can I get away with going?” Laurel asked, the needle on the speedometer already creeping toward forty-five.
“Cops are the least of our worries tonight,” David said. “You can just—Laurel, look out!”
A menacing shape darted in front of them, stopping in the middle of the road. Laurel slammed on the brakes and the car slid over the pavement as she fought to keep control. They skidded, barely missing the large animal—a troll, surely—and slid off the shoulder into a crumbling ditch on the other side. The car lurched to a stop, its wheels spinning uselessly in the mud and gravel.
David groaned as he tried to right himself after being thrown against the dash. Laurel peered into the darkness but couldn’t make anything out. Then her eyes focused on the jagged outline of the forest’s edge, only a hundred yards away. “The trees, David,” Laurel said urgently. “We have to run for the trees.”
“I don’t know if I can run,” David said. “My knees got hit really hard!”
“You can do it, David,” Laurel said desperately. “You have to. Let’s go!” She threw the door open and dragged David out behind her. After a few wobbly steps he managed to find his bearings and they ran, hand in hand, toward the forest.
“He’s going to smell me,” David said. “My left knee is bleeding.”
“You’re no worse off than me,” Laurel said. “He’ll totally smell my blossom. We stick together. No arguing.” Suddenly she realized her mistake—the trolls must be making their move because she had blossomed. There was no way she could evade them, not when they could track her inescapable scent. She hated that she’d so easily let down her guard. She’d let this happen.
As they ran, Laurel dug into her purse and pulled out a set of vials that would make the monastuolo serum when crushed together. She knew it wouldn’t be very effective in the open air, but she had to try something; maybe it would slow them down. Her sash loosened and her blossom slipped free as she and David tore through the bushes, but she wasn’t about to stop to fix it; she could hear one troll behind them and another approaching from their right. David stumbled, betrayed by his injured knee, and the troll behind them growled and sprang. A stabbing pain shot up Laurel’s back from her blossom. Biting off a scream, she whirled and, with an open palm, smashed the monastuolo vials against the troll’s forehead. He reeled back, howling in pain, enormous hands clapped to his face. Laurel leaped away, her back throbbing so badly a sob built in her throat and she fought to quell a wave of nausea.
Her legs ached almost unbearably when they reached the tree line at the top of the hill. “Come on, David,” she urged.
They stumbled into the forest, branches clinging to their clothes and whipping against their skin, scratching their faces. When they reached a small break in the trees they jolted to a stop, turning in circles.
“Which way?” David asked.
They stood at the kitchen door for a few seconds and David tucked Laurel tightly under his arm. After pressing a quick kiss to her forehead, he asked, “You ready?”
“Yeah.”
They both took a few deep breaths, then David grabbed Laurel’s hand and pushed the door open. “Go!” he commanded in a hissing whisper.
Hand in hand they ran toward David’s Civic, about fifty feet away. They ducked around several cars before throwing open the doors and jumping into their seats. “Do you think he saw us?” she asked as she shoved the key in the ignition and cranked the engine.
“I don’t know.”
“I can’t leave if they didn’t see us.”
“Well, what do you propose we do?” David asked, peering out his window into the darkness.
Laurel took a quick breath, hardly daring to even think about what she was about to do. Before she could change her mind she slipped out of the driver’s seat and jumped up and down, waving her arms. “Hey! You looking for me?”
A dark shape rose up twenty feet in front of them. Laurel gasped and threw herself back into the car and shoved the gearshift into reverse. The troll rushed forward, its navy coveralls and fearsome visage illuminated by the Civic’s headlights. It slammed its hands down on the hood of the car just as the stick shift popped into place.
“Go, go, go!” David screamed.
Laurel slammed one foot on the gas and popped her other off the clutch so fast the car shot backward, almost hitting the truck parked behind them. The troll stumbled into the spot where the car had just been, but it was already getting to its feet. Laurel shoved the stick into first gear and peeled out of the driveway. David was twisted around in his seat, staring out the back window.
“David!” Laurel shouted. “Watch for cars for me. I can’t stop at the stop sign up here.”
David turned forward and peered into the darkness in both directions. As they approached the intersection Laurel’s foot hovered over the brake.
“You’re all clear. Go!”
Laurel pressed on the gas, carrying the car through the intersection. She stepped hard on the brake as she turned off the road that led to Ryan’s house and onto Pebble Beach Drive. The car skidded and the tires protested noisily, but Laurel managed to keep the headlights facing the right direction.
“It just came around the corner,” David said when they were less than ten seconds up the road. “It’s wicked fast.”
“The speed limit’s thirty-five here. How fast can I get away with going?” Laurel asked, the needle on the speedometer already creeping toward forty-five.
“Cops are the least of our worries tonight,” David said. “You can just—Laurel, look out!”
A menacing shape darted in front of them, stopping in the middle of the road. Laurel slammed on the brakes and the car slid over the pavement as she fought to keep control. They skidded, barely missing the large animal—a troll, surely—and slid off the shoulder into a crumbling ditch on the other side. The car lurched to a stop, its wheels spinning uselessly in the mud and gravel.
David groaned as he tried to right himself after being thrown against the dash. Laurel peered into the darkness but couldn’t make anything out. Then her eyes focused on the jagged outline of the forest’s edge, only a hundred yards away. “The trees, David,” Laurel said urgently. “We have to run for the trees.”
“I don’t know if I can run,” David said. “My knees got hit really hard!”
“You can do it, David,” Laurel said desperately. “You have to. Let’s go!” She threw the door open and dragged David out behind her. After a few wobbly steps he managed to find his bearings and they ran, hand in hand, toward the forest.
“He’s going to smell me,” David said. “My left knee is bleeding.”
“You’re no worse off than me,” Laurel said. “He’ll totally smell my blossom. We stick together. No arguing.” Suddenly she realized her mistake—the trolls must be making their move because she had blossomed. There was no way she could evade them, not when they could track her inescapable scent. She hated that she’d so easily let down her guard. She’d let this happen.
As they ran, Laurel dug into her purse and pulled out a set of vials that would make the monastuolo serum when crushed together. She knew it wouldn’t be very effective in the open air, but she had to try something; maybe it would slow them down. Her sash loosened and her blossom slipped free as she and David tore through the bushes, but she wasn’t about to stop to fix it; she could hear one troll behind them and another approaching from their right. David stumbled, betrayed by his injured knee, and the troll behind them growled and sprang. A stabbing pain shot up Laurel’s back from her blossom. Biting off a scream, she whirled and, with an open palm, smashed the monastuolo vials against the troll’s forehead. He reeled back, howling in pain, enormous hands clapped to his face. Laurel leaped away, her back throbbing so badly a sob built in her throat and she fought to quell a wave of nausea.
Her legs ached almost unbearably when they reached the tree line at the top of the hill. “Come on, David,” she urged.
They stumbled into the forest, branches clinging to their clothes and whipping against their skin, scratching their faces. When they reached a small break in the trees they jolted to a stop, turning in circles.
“Which way?” David asked.
