Shadow Wrack by Kim Thompson Page A

another four. Willa hurried past them, a little uneasy at their stares. They followed her, their numbers increasing. Glancing back, she saw there were close to twenty of them now, all wearing identical, feathery capes. And they didn’t have any trick-or -treat bags.
    Willa broke into a run. Behind her she heard the patter of small feet following. Turning a corner, she put on a burst of speed. She sprinted to the end of the block, imagining that the footsteps were falling back a bit.
    She raced on, dodging ghosts and witches and superheroes until Hanlan’s Hill came into view. An ambulance was parked at the foot of the trail. Her heart sank. Is that for Horace? Am I too late? Behind the ambulance there was another car parked, a familiar one. Hacker! So he had called them in to pick up Horace. That might not be as easy as they expect, she mused.
    Reaching the trail, she turned to scan the street. The little mob of owl children was far behind. Above her the hill was swathed in fog so thick it looked like cotton batting. Willa took a deep breath and started up the hill.
    She couldn’t see very far in front of her, so she stared down at the path as she ran. From behind and below ghostly wailing came to her ears, along with shouts and laughter. She couldn’t hear anyone following, but she did hear a familiar clacking sound — clack clack clack CLACK off to her right, and another clack clack CLACK way up ahead. Willa stumbled a bit but kept moving.
    They’re just guys with bird heads, she told herself. I’ve seen worse.
    There were other strange sounds, on all sides now — rustling and little cries in the night — but she forced herself to focus on the path at her feet. No point in looking up at every noise; everything was lost in fog and darkness anyway.
    She heard a loud roar and shouts up ahead. Horace! Her heart sank. Then someone was running, crashing through the brush toward her. There was a tree by the path and she scrambled up it, hiding in the branches just as two large men appeared running down the path, sheer terror in their eyes. The first one stopped suddenly and the second ran into him. They were both dressed in dark uniforms with reflective vests. One had a flashlight, which he shone back the way they’d come.
    â€œJesus!” he exclaimed. The other just leaned over, panting. After another moment a third man stumbled into the flashlight’s beam. It was Hacker.
    â€œDon’t shine that in my eyes, you idiot!” he gasped. The man lowered the flashlight. They all caught their breath, staring back the way they’d come.
    â€œSo what about the old man?” asked Hacker. The other two were shaking their heads.
    â€œHe’s on his own! I am not going back up there with that animal on the loose!”
    Hacker persisted. “But he’s dangerous!”
    â€œNewsflash, buddy!” exclaimed the paramedic. “I’m thinkin’ a flippin’ lion is maybe more dangerous than an old man!”
    â€œListen,” added the other. “I don’t think your friend is up here anyway. He’s probably safe at home, like I wish I was. The lion must have escaped from a zoo or something. We’ve gotta call it in.”
    â€œYeah. Let the cops handle it.”
    â€œShh! I heard something.” They froze, the flashlight beam pointed up the path. There was a moment of silence, then —
    ROAR! A massive shape exploded into the light. The three men screamed and fled down the path. The lion trotted a few steps, then stopped and sat back on his haunches, watching them go. He let out a snort that sounded like a chuckle, then lifted one paw in a swooping gesture. A blast of wind whooshed through. Willa gripped her branch tightly to keep from being blown down. The lion swooped a second blast of air down the hill toward the fleeing men. Willa heard them holler in the distance. Then the lion turned to a nearby tree and raised his paw once more. The