The Troll by Brian Darr Page B

trying to
pace himself to reach the top as the chopper did. As he neared the
high point, he felt the wind of the propellers. Iris and The Guide
found each others eyes and with a mutual understanding, they both
stood on the very top holding the net.
    The
chopper moved forward with guns aimed. They threw the net high and
for a moment, it was suspended in the air, the weight of the net
fighting the power of the propellers. Then, a chain caught and—a
little at first—then all at once, the whole thing was sucked
into the propellers and as they cascaded down the roof to get away,
the propellers began clunking and sparks flew, and then halted all
together.
    The
Guide watched as the chopper began a free-fall and he watched in
shock as he saw The Pilot, who’s face was frozen without
reaction or fear.
    The
Acrobat reached the door and had his hand on the wooden lever when
suddenly the helicopter crashed through the corner of the barn,
bringing a shower of wooden splinters and smoke with it. It came
straight down, but the propellers were stuck in place.
    The
Acrobat dived to the side and The Troll hurried backward, but not
fast enough. As the barn collapsed inward a wall at a time, The Troll
ran across the room and dived behind a pile of haystacks. He looked
up long enough to see the world darken as it all caved in.
    Iris
stood outside the remaining wall with The Guide, hugging the wall
with their bodies, uncertain of the fate of The Troll and the bounty
hunters on the other side.
    “ They
thought he was the only one inside,” The Guide said as a
thought began formulating in his head.
    “ So
what?”
    “ See
if he’s okay,” The Guide said, speaking quickly. “I’ll
lead them away. There’s a town about ten miles to the west. Go
there with the Rainbow and meet me at the precinct. Make sure it’s
just you, and The Troll if he’s okay, but make sure you have
Rainbow. Meet me there.”
    They
found each others eyes again and The Guide desperately hoped this
wouldn’t be the last time he saw Iris. There was a time that
The Surfer and Wigeon were the faces of the revolution, but suddenly
he’d been cast into the spotlight and had run into the most
beautiful woman he’d ever seen—a woman who fought for the
same cause.
    “ Find
me,” he said, and suddenly turned and ran.
    Iris
ducked down and watched as The Guide sprinted for the tree-line. He
was halfway across the field, headed for the opening The Troll had
tried to escape through the night before, when the sound of The
Coach’s voice shouted and he and The Mortician abandoned the
barn and began the chase. After a moment, The Guide disappeared in
the trees, which brought a smile to her face. Thirty seconds later,
The Coach and Mortician disappeared too.
    Then,
Iris was alone.
    The
Guide jumped the tangles of weeds and ducked under thickets of
branches, easily evading and putting distance between himself and his
pursuers. He ran toward the left, knowing people instinctively run to
the right. Eventually, he couldn’t hear them behind him
anywhere. The thicket covered a lot of ground, and the longer they
couldn’t find him, the better the odds were that they wouldn’t.
The time for worrying about himself ended, and his thoughts turned to
Iris. He hoped she was safe—that The Pilot was dead and that
she’d be able to find The Troll in the mess.
    The
Troll.
    In
all the excitement, The Guide hadn’t found time to be angry,
but suddenly his thoughts were back to The Troll, who’d tried
to escape in the night, who’d tried to open the door for the
bounty hunters, who couldn’t hand over the damn memory stick
and let them end this.
    If
he’s alive, him and I have some shit to sort through , he
thought. He hoped he was dead—that Iris would leave without
him. He didn’t like the thought of them together. Iris had
chosen The Troll because on some level, she admired him. She believed
in him. She believed in the man who was willing to give up more than
the man who