The Troll by Brian Darr Page A

times. When it was
on the other end of the barn, she’d pull until the boards were
loose enough that a whole person could climb onto the roof. She kept
pulling at boards until two people could.
    Meanwhile,
The Guide found everything that wasn’t nailed down in the barn:
Shovels, hoes, tractor equipment, and most importantly: Ropes,
chains, and a barb wire coil. He turned from Iris to The Troll. The
longer they held the bounty hunters off, the more hope he had. He
watched The Troll for a moment, disgusted that he'd almost opened the
door.
    When
all supplies were gathered, Iris joined him as they bound everything
together, wrapping barbed wire and rope around each tool until it was
one large haphazard net of metal, wood, and wire. “We’ll
have one shot at this,” The Guide said, and Iris nodded. They
both turned to where The Troll stood, yelling through the door, but
he was running out of time.
    The
door shook as it was hit from the outside and the wooden barricade
shook with each hit. Eventually they would break through.
    “ Let’s
go,” he said and Iris and The Guide slipped through the
opening.
    The
Troll stood frozen, watching the door and expecting it to burst open
at any moment. Suddenly the thuds stopped and everything was quiet
except for the sound of the chopper. The Troll looked up and saw
Iris’s leg as it slipped from a hole they’d created in
the barn. “Great,” he said to himself and shook his head.
They could easily run off without him and leave him to die.
    Or
he could transmit now. The Moderator had said that at any point in
time, he could do it. He felt the shape of Rainbow in his pocket. He
knew he didn’t have much time. He reached in his pocket
frantically, ready to save himself and end this once and for all, but
suddenly felt a gust of air whiz down behind him. He turned just as
The Acrobat fell into place. The last thought he had before a
side-kick knocked the wind out of him and sent him into the barn wall
was that the wiry little guy must have climbed the outer wall and
used his acrobatics to work his way into the barn.
    The
Troll sat up as The Acrobat walked to the door. “Wait!”
he shouted, but The Acrobat kept moving, seemingly about to unlatch
the door. He quickly stood and rushed the man, trying to wrap his
arms around him, but The Acrobat side stepped him easily and sent The
Troll face first into the hay. “Come on man,” The Troll
said. “Do me a favor. You were the nice one.”
    The
Acrobat kept moving, but The Troll pulled himself into a running
stance and rushed him again, this time connecting his shoulder with
The Acrobat’s back. Both men fell forward and crashed into a
bench, a tangle of arms and legs. The Acrobat was the better fighter,
but wound up by happenstance, pinned under The Troll’s body.
Acrobat brought his free foot up and to The Troll’s surprise,
kicked him in the face, knocking The Troll on his back again.
    Blood
fell in a stream and this time, as The Troll watched The Acrobat get
to his feet, he knew he wouldn’t get up.
    The
helicopter flew by again, withholding fire as if waiting to see how
the men on the ground fared out. The Guide and Iris crouched at the
edge of the roof, praying they wouldn’t be seen before their
opportunity arrived. The chopper flew in patterns, and eventually it
would come straight over the roof.
    They
positioned themselves, holding opposite ends of their net, both with
one knee wedged on the roof and a foot holding them in place. “I’m
going to get his attention,” Iris said, and started crawling up
the roof for visibility.
    The
Guide tried to stop her, but Iris began her climb quickly, her mind
made up. It could work, but The Guide was unusually protective of
her. When she reached the top, she waived her hand to get The Pilot’s
attention. He wasn’t sure she was seen until the sound of the
helicopter suddenly changed and the propellers shifted in their
direction. She waived to The Guide and he began his climb,