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Troll Brother

Page 63

by P. Edward Auman


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  For the first several minutes of the Johansson’s flight down the mountain they could hear the growls, clicks, and hoots of the goblins every once in a while and it seemed for the most part that they were falling behind. In Rick’s mind they only needed to get relatively close to town where humans had made more of an encroachment up on the mountain, say, perhaps the airfield, and the goblins should stop following. In Little Ricky’s mind, he had a completely different idea on how to handle goblins.

  “Wait! Mom! I can stop them! Just let me try!” he yelled.

  “Quiet Ricky!” Junior huffed. He was half dragging and half carrying Little Ricky at times, moving as quickly as he could through the trees.

  Mom spoke up, breathing heavily, “Not now Ricky. Just let us get home! And for Pete’s sake, stay quiet!”

  “But, that won’t help…” Little Ricky started, but at that moment he was hoisted over his father’s shoulder and could raise his voice loud enough to be heard again.

  Marissa and Robert were at times leading the way, mostly because they were smaller and lighter and able to scramble through the trees and over rocks more quickly. Occasionally father or mother would have to give them a little direction in a hoarse whisper, but for the most part it was a downhill race to get as far away from the goblins in as short a time as possible.

  As they slipped into the main cut in the mountain that led straight towards the Maple Springs Airfield their hiking boots all sloshed through a slightly larger stream making more noise than Dad would have liked but they were within minutes of breaking cover into the Airfield and they could still hear occasional hoots.

  Then a deep, penetrating howl sent shivers up their spines just at the little vale opened up a bit and flattened at the bottom. A crash sounded through the forest that might have been an entire oak tree being ripped from the ground and thrown from all the racket it created. Suddenly the goblin hoots rang out all around them and they knew they had not thwarted the following throng of goblins at all. It sounded, in fact, as though they were on a man hunt, and Robert began wondering if shooting one of them at the cave clearing was the best idea for having bought time or scared them off for a few minutes.

  Shadows leapt here and there between the trees at them at full pace. It looked vaguely like a swarm of frogs rushing from a river. The humans turned and ran. Mother’s exclamation was not needed but it topped the weird guttural grunts and squeals coming from the goblins. “RUN! NOW!”

  As they rushed through the forest on the moist soil the goblins where clearly picking up speed. Another giant crash followed by a roar echoed about and trod upon the voices of goblins and humans alike. Something big was coming.

  Junior pulled his sidearm while still carrying Little Ricky and turned just enough in both directions during their rush to fire a few rounds without specific aim as a deterrent. Robert and Marissa turned at the first sounds of the cracking and on the second round watched as one of the goblins crumpled to the ground and several others around him scattered.

  In small sections some of the goblins seemed to howl in surprise and turn away, but their apparent leader would begin a barking noise from the middle of the main goblin rush and the holes would soon be filled. There was no doubt, they were out for blood this time.

  Then, something whizzed right past Robert’s head. A few steps ahead he noticed a heavy stick or something strike a tree and penetrate it with a crash. As he passed it something clicked in his mind about the heavy, straight rod poking through the Aspen. They were firing on the humans now!

  “Arrows!” He shouted. “They’re shooting arrows!”

  He and Marissa towards the front looked about quickly. It seemed everyone was still with them. Mom, Dad, Little Ricky on his shoulder. So far so good. Then he heard the unmistakable sound of another thick arrow whistling through the wind. Father returned a couple more rounds back at the group and Rob heard a deathly screech. Another one down.

  But how many are there? his mind raced. There had to be dozens. Twenty? Could there only be twenty? It seemed like far more than that. Maybe fifty. Maybe even a hundred goblins bubbling and burbling through the forest at high speed like a corrosive acid spill engulfing everything it spills across.

  Finally, the Maple Springs Airfield came into view. It was another good ten or fifteen seconds out at their current pace but Robert could see the gap through the thinning trees and he thought he heard Dan’s big B-52 bomber buzzing around too.

  Suddenly, from the East and South, slightly behind them came several large crashing forms through the Aspens. They growled and grunted. Dad stopped firing his sidearm, but all kept running. Then, with a great howl, Dronosh came crashing through the eastern line of goblins, scattering them and tossing many into the trees with wide swings of a his giant arms. He was moving fast and closing on their position. Several of the goblins nearly catching up to the humans turned and saw the goliath coming and halted, their leader barking angrily at them all the while.

  As Dronosh turned away from the mass somewhat to make for the humans, Rob saw Scrimp taking up the rear and bursting through the goblins as well. Instead of swinging giant arms in front of him as he ran, Scrimp was actually grabbing goblins left and right and throwing them as hard as he could at the trees. Every one of them went limp and in some Robert could hear bones snapping like twigs.

  Then Dronosh was upon their group. He scooped up first Sara Johansson under his right arm, and then closing on Rick Jr. he scooped up both he and the little boy on his shoulder under his left. He made for the airfield. Quickly behind came Scrimp. He ran right between the two adolescents and grabbed them both under his arms at the same time and he too made for the airfield with Robert and Marissa. The ground seemed to thunder with the pounding of their four feet upon it, and the goblins definitely seemed to be slowing.

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