“That answers that,” I said. Unwillingly, I took a step back.
“What’s happening all of a sudden?” The woman yanked the rifle off her shoulders and aimed. Across the roof, a man yelled frantic updates into his phone.
Several trolls rushed around the corner of the library, heads up, eyes searching until they settled on me. They sped up.
“They don’t like me much,” I told the woman as a half-hearted answer. “Four—”
“Yeah. You should go.” The trolls were suddenly so energized we’d be overrun within minutes. I had to draw them away.
“Keep an eye on Dr. Torrance for me,” I said.
“Huh?”
“In case she tells the MGA. They might take shortcuts with Alpha.”
Her eyes widened as my meaning sank in.
The same concern might’ve occurred to Red or Rainbow by now, but it didn’t surprise me that Four hadn’t considered it. Suspicion didn’t suit her.
“I’ll try to keep them busy long enough. Good luck.”
“You too.”
I breathed in deep, then turned. “Neven!”
CHAPTER THIRTY-SIX
A few years ago, our neighbor’s dog gave birth to a litter of puppies.
Every day after school, I’d run over to visit. I could spend hours watching the puppies nap and suckle and bumble about while I sipped at my neighbor’s homemade hot cocoa. After a few weeks, the dogs reached the perfect puppy stage: soft-furred, floppy-eared, and curious-minded about the world beyond their mom’s milk.
In particular, a soft red ball. I remembered holding it up, puppies all around and atop my feet. I moved the ball left and their heads turned left. I moved the ball right and their heads turned right. I moved the ball up, and they craned their necks until they almost fell over. I stepped back, and they eagerly stumbled closer without ever taking their eyes off the ball.
That was what the trolls reminded me of when Neven and I sheared overhead. Except this time, not as cute.
As we flew, I sat up straight to make myself visible. Below us, trolls followed without hesitation. They broke away from their assault on the library one at a time. Others came running down the street from farther away.
“One more go-round,” I yelled at Neven, who obliged and circled the library again to hook any trolls that might’ve missed us. A couple seemed distracted, fighting or trying to get into the library, but I only counted four or five stragglers total, down from—what? Forty? The humans in the library outnumbered the trolls at this point. People were safe for now, which meant Torrance and the others could put the plan in motion.
Neven and I might be able to help with that. “Can you get to Tara’s house?” I called.
We flew slowly across town, regularly dipping low to reignite the trolls’ interest. Trolls emerged from all kinds of places—broken windows, shrubbery, underneath cars—to join the group following us. Some clambered up trees or rooftops to try to leap at us; Neven would either swerve out of the way or knock them aside with her tail. My muscles hurt from the way I hunched over Neven’s neck, bracing myself against the wind and cold while she dipped and swerved and rose like a slow-motion roller coaster.
Nausea crept up on me as we reached Tara’s street. I’d died here. Was it that spot on the asphalt? Or in that backyard, over there?
Neven dove to give the trolls a good view of me on her back. For a moment, watching Tara’s house as we flew past, I wanted to call out to Alpha. I gripped Neven’s neck, sweat pooling between my gloves and hands, and let the moment pass.
We flew out of town with at least eighty trolls trailing us. A few had given up, either tired or distracted or choosing to stay with Alpha, but most stayed on our heels with vicious determination. Bulging bug eyes gleamed in the dusk, never once looking away, never once blinking.
I was safe up here, circling the fields outside the town. Even when the trolls pressed into one another until they merged into misshapen forms as tall as me, they had no chance of reaching us. The biggest danger lay in Neven’s wings cramping up before Torrance could execute the plan. I tried to cling to that optimism, but my reptile brain felt more like lying facedown and screaming into the floor.
Half the trolls had been pacing the fields, mirroring our flight path from the ground, while the other half had sat tense and still, their eyes tracking our every movement.
For the first time, their focus faltered. At least a dozen trolls turned their heads westward. Automatically, I looked in the same direction. There was little to see—grassy hills, an empty road, a billboard advertising the Pennsylvania Grand Canyon, and scattered trees that eventually turned into a forest. I couldn’t hear anything, either. The sound of the soaring wind and Neven’s wings beating the air drowned out anything else.
Fear twisted in my gut as two trolls started in the direction of the road. If the trolls were giving up on me . . .
At the horizon, light flared on the asphalt. The silhouette of a box truck appeared atop the hill, then came barreling toward Damford.
The trolls who’d gone to investigate looked from the truck to me, as though considering the situation. Then they set off, leaving paths of bent grass in their wake. More trolls followed.
I understood trolls losing interest in chasing me, but why would a truck a hundred yards away intrigue them this much?
The trolls sprinted toward the road. The front trolls weaved together, merging into hulking shapes thudding through the grass. They looked over their shoulders, as though making sure I was watching.
“Oh no,” I whispered as the truth dawned on me. “Neven! Get down there!”
The first trolls reached the asphalt right as the truck approached. A last sprint—then one troll threw itself into the truck’s path. The truck swerved. One wheel dipped into the grass beside the road. It almost, almost looked
