The Art of Saving the World

by Corinne Duyvis

  A second troll leaped. It slammed into the windshield. Tires screeched. Two other trolls hit the truck body, denting the sides. The truck wobbled precariously. Then gravity took over. It slammed onto its side and slid down the road into the grass.

  The trolls instantly went for the driver in the truck’s cab. Several eagerly peered up at Neven and me as we dove toward them. One troll grinned, wild and lopsided.

  They hadn’t lost interest in me at all. They’d set a trap.

  And I had no choice but to fall for it.

  CHAPTER THIRTY-SEVEN

  Neven’s speed worked in our favor. Most trolls hadn’t reached the truck yet.

  Maybe we could get the driver to safety before that changed.

  “How do you want to do this?” The wind distorted Neven’s voice.

  The truck’s headlights glared across the grass, illuminating approaching trolls in the distance.

  How did I want to do this? Dive toward a dozen angry, oversized trolls? The only troll I’d fought successfully had been the small one at Aunt Lina’s. Since then, all I’d done was flee and die. Doubt washed over me.

  I bit my lip hard to focus. If I did nothing, that driver was dead. End of.

  “Drop me on the truck. I’ll get the driver out.” My words tasted false and empty. “Keep the trolls busy?”

  Neven folded her wings and shot toward the truck like an arrow. Cool air blew at my face.

  On Neven’s first go-over, she snatched a troll from the truck and smacked off others with her tail. On her second go-over, she grabbed a couple with her hind legs and flung them onto the road. The third time, the dented top of the fallen truck—formerly its sidewall—was empty enough for her to land. She slowed, approaching the truck legs-first. The gusts of wind from her wings knocked a small troll into the grass.

  “Go,” she told me.

  I slid off her back and thumped onto the vehicle’s cargo box. To my right, trolls were climbing onto the truck, making excited grinding noises.

  The surface was slick. My foot slipped into a dent caused by the trolls bashing into the metal, but I caught myself, stumbling and clambering my way to the truck’s cab. I reached the passenger’s-side door on all fours and looked down through the window. I couldn’t tell whether the driver was awake. Below him, the driver’s-side window had fractured into a granulated pattern and pressed the grass flat.

  Movement in the corner of my eye. Before I could turn, I heard the beating of wings, a strangled gnarly yell, then the sound of something hitting the grass. Thanks, Neven.

  The door handle wouldn’t give. I whipped out my knife and sliced it along the edge of the door to take care of any locks. I pulled the door up easily and wedged my shoulder underneath.

  “Are you OK?” I called urgently. “Sir?”

  He moaned. Slowly, his head turned.

  I didn’t get the chance to ask again. A tat-tat-tat sounded to my left. A troll almost my height was climbing the truck. My leg shot out. It hit the troll in the head, knocking away a chunk of earth. The troll recoiled—then leaped. Blindly, I lashed out with the knife. The troll clipped my shoulder. Moments later, its arm slid down its body, crumbling into dirt. I slashed again, again. Finally, the remains of the troll rolled down the windshield.

  I yanked the passenger door open again and slid into the cab legs-first. My feet scrambled for a foothold and settled on the gear shift. I balanced myself with one hand on the console and the other on the passenger’s-seat headrest.

  Above me, the door fell shut. The cab shook from the impact.

  A troll’s face hovered over the window. I looked up and swallowed. We were only inches apart. I heard the troll’s claws scrape against the metal. If the trolls were smart enough to set a trap, they’d be smart enough to open that door, too. This had been a bad idea, I was such a clueless, pointless—

  Something dark blurred overhead and slammed into the troll. Abruptly, the creature was gone. Neven was still out there, helping.

  I squirmed to look down at the driver.

  “What was that?” he slurred. His eyes rolled toward me, unfocused. “On the road. One of them . . . The things, right?”

  “One of the things,” I confirmed.

  “Mmyeah. Saw them near Wellsboro. Smaller, though.”

  “Hold very, very still, please.” I slashed his seat belt. It whipped up and out of the way.

  The driver gaped at the windshield behind me. “Wh—whhh—”

  I turned. On the other side of the windshield, two trolls—no, three—sat in the grass. The smallest pressed its nose to the glass, its grin stretching to reveal moss-stained teeth, while the other two began attacking the windshield, their eyes furious and excited at once. Whenever they crawled back to gain momentum, the truck headlights glared into their faces, illuminating every last crumb of dirt.

  “Don’t look at them, all right?” I didn’t take my own advice. The trolls were just inches away. We were so screwed.

  “All the Damford shits are this size?” he murmured. “Damn. You weren’t kidding about needing this steel.”

  “Steel? Oh!” Why else would a box truck be driving down winding roads into a troll hellhole in the pitch of night, with the entire state mid-crisis? This was the truck Tara and Torrance had mentioned, delivering extra steel to the people of Damford.

  My first thought was: Shit. It’ll take even longer to reach them now.

  My second thought was: Right now, we may need it more than they do.

  “We’ll be safe for a li’l bit,” the driver said. “These trucks’re built to survive moose. I mean. They can’t. ’Cause moose are moose. But it’s the goal.”

  “We need to climb out this door. Are you hurt? Can you do that?”

  My legs trembled from keeping myself in this awkward crouch. The faster we escaped, the better. More trolls were arriving by the second. All around me, I heard the scratch-scrape-screech of claws against metal. Cutting open the windshield would give us an easy escape route, but there were three times more trolls outside on the grass than atop the truck.

  I helped hoist the driver upright. The driver’s-side window cracked under his feet.

  “Leaving isn’t safe.” He sounded clearer than before. “We should call for help. Do you have a phone? I lost mine—long story—Jeez, how old are you?”

  “We already have help.” I craned my neck, searching the darkening sky for Neven. She was flying in circles, diving every few moments to snatch up a troll or fling it back to the ground. I waited for her to clear the vehicle, then stretched out, lifting the door overhead. “Could you boost me?” I asked the driver.

  “This is a bad idea, kid.”

  A troll threw itself into the windshield. Cracks spiderwebbed along its surface.

  The driver grimaced, then folded his hands for me to stand on. Within moments, I’d climbed up, nearly slicing my palm on the sharp metal where I’d cut open the door. Oh: That was why the trolls hadn’t opened the door yet. Lifting it meant touching exposed steel.

  I reached into the cab to help the driver up. Nearby, I heard the rhythmic tap of the trolls’ claws.

  Right on time, I hoisted the driver over the edge. I instantly whirled and cut a wide slash through the air behind me. The knife went clean through one troll’s chest. Two other trolls approached from my left, and I extended the knife in warning.

  “What—What’s that?” the driver said. “Holy shit!”

  It occurred to me I should’ve told him about Neven.

  She glided toward us, a sleek dark shadow. Her front paws wrapped around the driver. Her hind legs stretched for me, and I expected that by-now-familiar tug at my core, when—

  Neven roared, an animal screech of pain. Her legs spasmed. Before I could see what was happening, her tail lashed out and rammed into my back.

  I hit the truck facedown.

  Then she was gone.

  CHAPTER THIRTY-EIGHT

  I looked up, my eyes unfocused. My forehead thudded painfully. In
my peripheral vision, a gray silhouette crawled toward me.

  Troll.

  Adrenaline spiked in my veins. I scrambled away on all fours. I needed to—

  Oh shit, a troll on my other side—

  My knee slipped on the slick, dusty metal. I crashed sideways. I caught a glimpse of Neven far down the field. Whatever had hurt her, she was still moving. I’d have to hide and wait her out. The cab was too far away; I was closer to the back of the truck than the front.

  The back of the truck. Which was filled with steel.

  I slashed at the nearest troll, a straight line right above its ankles. By the time it collapsed, I had already cut jagged marks into the truck surface all around me, just deep enough to expose the steel below the outer layer of paint or anticorrosives or whatever the hell the outer layer of a truck was made of. It might slow down the trolls.

  I crawled to the back of the truck, haphazardly carving lines as I went, and looked over the edge. Three smaller trolls sat on the ground. A roll-up door made up the entire back wall of the truck, with a chain lock keeping it closed. The lock was only two feet down from where I sat.

  To my side, a troll was climbing the truck. Claws pried into the nearest tire. I cut the hand clean off, then strained toward the chain lock. The tip of my knife sank through one link. The weight of the chain pulled the whole thing down, rattling against the door before it slipped free and hit a troll below.

  I pulled at the door. It creaked and groaned, probably not used to being opened while on its side, but it slowly gave, creating a vertical gap from the grass upward.

  The trolls on the ground looked up at me, all eagerness and bloodlust.

  I slid over the edge legs-first. One troll leaped and snapped at my feet. My heart beat against my ribs. I tried not to think about my catastrophically awful decision-making skills. I let the rest of my body glide over the edge, swung my legs into the truck, and let go before I could change my mind.

  I crashed into a pile of steel. Metal clattered like thunder. A sharp edge cut across the length of my calf, and corners and points stabbed into my body all over.

  I blinked away stars. Then my head snapped right, looking outside through the gap.

  There’d been three trolls outside before. Now I counted at least ten. A smaller troll experimentally reached inside the truck, but yanked its hands back the moment it touched steel.

  I straightened my glasses and untangled my limbs, sending more metal sliding and crashing all around me. Moving hurt. I tried to bite down the pain. This would leave a lot of bruises.

  From the meager light that entered through the opening, I got a decent idea of the cargo. Gleaming metal lay scattered all over. Metal wire coils of various sizes. A pile of rectangular sheets held together with orange straps. A tangled blue tarp. A couple of lockboxes. Bundles of rods. Other rods lay jumbled on the floor like a game of pick-a-stick. When the truck toppled onto its side, its cargo must’ve scattered all over the wall.

  I clambered deeper into the truck. The trolls seemed hesitant to enter, but I wanted to put space between us, regardless. Pain shot through my calf with every movement. Something dark and wet stained my jeans.

  I made my way to the wall—what used to be the roof—stepping gingerly around the chaos on the floor. With my knife, I cut a sloppy hole about two inches in diameter. I peered through.

  The field stretched out before me. Trolls were scattered around the truck, some sitting and some pacing. In my limited line of sight, I counted twenty, easily. Fear crept into my throat.

  Past the trolls, several dozen feet away, the driver was running across the field. Trolls sprinted after him. Neven followed overhead. Her movements were erratic and twitchy, nothing like the languid confidence I’d gotten used to. When she curved a certain way, I saw the sharp outline of a troll on her back, right between her wings. Another one was clinging to her hind legs.

  I pressed my face to the wall to follow Neven as she flew out of my range. The truck headlights caught the back half of her body, revealing a third troll and a trail of blood running from her thigh to her heel. Then she was out of my sight.

  My chest clenched with worry.

  I’d asked her to keep the truck clear. I’d asked her to put herself within reach of the trolls again and again. And now Neven—and the driver—

  I couldn’t count on her to help me. I didn’t want her to help me yet, either. I had weapons and walls keeping me safe for the time being; that truck driver needed her help more than I did.

  I was on my own.

  God, I hoped the others were having better luck.

  Abruptly, my view of the outside was blocked. An ugly troll face hovered outside the hole. I stumbled back and almost tripped over a rod. Pain flared through my calf. I choked back a scream.

  From near the door came the chittering-scratching-grinding of trolls. One of the bigger trolls—its shape blocky and uneven—wormed through the entrance. Deliberately, it stepped around the metal on the floor. Even when it accidentally brushed past the steel, it only jerked away, grunted, and continued.

  Fear lodged in my throat. Without looking away, I crouched and grabbed the rod I’d nearly tripped on. As far as places to be trapped with aggressive trolls went, “truck full of steel” was a good one. I should take advantage. The Powers That Be would appreciate that, right? Mettle? Ingenuity? They’d better be paying attention.

  With trembling hands, I sliced bits of metal off one tip. I left the rod a razor-sharp spike and leveled it at the approaching troll. “Don’t murder me? Please.”

  The troll made a gnashing sound. Similar sounds echoed from outside the truck. Slowly, the troll stepped back, eventually exiting into the evening air.

  The troll’s scrawl of a mouth spread. It slipped out of sight.

  I kept my eyes on the entrance. No sign of the troll—of any troll. The field was open and empty as far as I could see.

  This could be another trap. They could be pretending the coast was clear, wait for me to step outside, and—

  The truck shook. Metal clanged against metal. The tarp crinkled.

  “Neven?” I called, half hopeful and half fearful, and stumbled to the wall to steady myself. Around me, metal started to slide toward the back of the truck.

  The truck wasn’t just shaking. It was tilting.

  “Neven!” My voice caught. “Is that you?”

  Still no answer.

  “I’ll take that as a no,” I whispered.

  CHAPTER THIRTY-NINE

  The floor tilted farther, the cab rising upward. A massive spool of steel wire came rolling at me. I dove at the wall. The spool missed me by a hairsbreadth, tumbling toward the narrow opening, where it crashed into the rest of the cargo. I braced a foot against a slat in the floor to keep me standing. The spike fell from my hand.

  Another jerk.

  We were almost vertical now. My foot slipped and I hit the floor, falling more than sliding, and grabbed a strap in the wall at the last moment. My arm almost lurched from its socket.

  The last of the light faded as the truck stood fully upright, the opening pressed against the grass.

  I dangled from the strap, panting. I gripped the strap so tight my knuckles felt like they’d snap. I couldn’t let go. I was only a few feet above the heap of cargo, and I knew with certainty that one of the topmost items was a steel spike sharp enough to go right through me.

  My feet scrabbled against the wall for a foothold. I swallowed grunts of pain.

  The truck wavered, then shook. I held on tighter. The truck rose from the ground. Metal clattered onto the grass below. Slivers of evening light played across the steel. Another shake. Rods tumbled out. Something dragged the truck across the grass to an emptier spot. Another shake, and another, to and fro and up and down, every single shake yanking at my arms and cutting into my palms and sending me thudding against the wall.

  Either I would fall out, or all the steel would, giving them easy access.

  Either way, I was s
crewed.

  The truck shook another time, forward and back, then—

  It fell.

  I was weightless for a moment, and then we crashed, the truck on its side again. I hit the ground like a rag doll. The metal heap that’d gathered by the narrow exit collapsed and bounced every which way.

  I lay there, dazed, as faint light slanted inside. My cramped hands finally released the strap. It left deep imprints in my palms. My leg screamed at me, the pain pulsing as badly as when I first got injured. I needed to get up, to run, to . . . to . . .

  I squinted at the roll-up door. No movement. Too much steel remained in the truck for the trolls to easily pass. What were they playing at?

  Even after I’d climbed to my feet and found my sharpened rod, there was no movement by the opening. The only sounds were rustling and the occasional low, grinding keen.

  I peered out the hole I’d cut earlier. The trolls were still there, nearly as many as before. They looked different, though. They were no longer pacing in aggravation, or lying in wait, or analyzing the truck for the best way in. Instead, a couple were fighting off to the left, circling each other and lashing out. Their movements seemed slow. One stumbled as it attacked.

  Farther away, trolls hobbled toward the edge of the field. The tall grass almost swallowed them whole. Another group was pacing, seeming more confused than anything. And there, to the right: a troll head as big as the truck cab itself. My heart froze. I’d seen trolls merge, and anything capable of lifting a truck would’ve needed to be big, but seeing a troll this size . . .

  The head lay on the grass, its body hidden from my view. A chunk of dirt crumbled from its skull and rolled to the ground.

  Moments later, the dirt grew limbs and a head. The new troll skittered away.

  The trolls were unmerging.

  “They did it,” I whispered. The Hazels and Torrance had placed Alpha in a coma. Either that, or the coma hadn’t worked, and they’d—