Twigs tore at Gordy’s clothing as he sprinted through the forest. Trees and thorn-riddled bushes hedged up the way. Lungs aching as he held his breath and peered into the darkness, Gordy stopped to listen for the sound of crunching branches. Aside from the low hum of insects, he heard nothing out of the ordinary. But then a mess of tangled hair emerged from behind a tree less than fifty yards away, and Gordy felt his hopes shatter.
The grinning, wild-eyed woman never spoke but tossed a bottle a few feet from where she stood. There was a sudden whoosh, like the sound of air being sucked into a tube, and the ground at Gordy’s feet split open. One moment he was standing on solid earth, the next he was clambering for low-hanging tree branches, his feet cracking the dirt as though he were standing on eggshells.
“Careful now!” the woman called out in a singsong tone. “Mind your footing.”
There was nothing to stand on, and Gordy began to sink. Clinging to a thick root, he managed to stop his fall, but it wouldn’t last. The weight of his body and the tug of his satchel draped over his shoulder, bogged down by dozens of potions, was too heavy for his fingers to hold.
“All right, Dergus, he’s had his fun,” the woman said, turning to the Scourge standing behind her. “Get him out before he suffocates.”
Gordy felt like an insect sinking in the sands of an hourglass as Dergus trudged along the edge of the mini cavern the Terramoto Tonic had opened, heading toward him.
The root suddenly slipped from Gordy’s fingers, and he began to sink once more. He would be buried ten feet beneath the ground by the time the Scourge reached the hole! Lashing out, Gordy seized hold of something with one free hand. Something cold and firm and made of metal. He didn’t take time to question it but hurriedly wriggled his fingers around the smooth tube.
“Hey, Joette,” Dergus called, skittering to a halt. “You ain’t gonna believe this, but look what’s sitting out here in the middle of the woods.”
Blinking the dirt out of his eyes, Gordy swung his other arm out of the hole, hefting his satchel along with it as he clasped the piece of metal.
Dergus chuckled. “It’s one of those . . . you know?” He snapped his fingers. “Minibikes or something.”
“A what?” Joette demanded.
“Like a motorcycle, only wimpier and not as noisy.” Dergus sniffed. “A moped. That’s it! Seems to be in fine condition, too, like it’s just been washed and waxed. What kind of moron goes and parks it out here?”
Gordy swiveled his head to get a good look at what the man was fussing about and realized he was holding on to the polished muffler of a motorized scooter. Moonlight illuminated the orange paint of its steering column, and Gordy could see a key inserted in the ignition as well as a rabbit’s-foot keychain fluttering in the breeze.
“I’m heading back,” Joette announced. “See to the boy. Make sure he’s bound tightly.”
“Reckon this moped’s mine now,” Dergus muttered under his breath as Joette trudged away. “It’s my lucky day. Yours?” He grinned down at Gordy. “Not so much.”
“What do you want?” Gordy asked.
“What do you want?” the man mocked. “Took us a whole month to find you. Joette’s Cepha Slop can be tracked, but we had to wait until they were done dredging the lake. By now, that ol’ octopus is fat and happy down at the bottom. Imagine the looks on their faces when someone decides to take a swim there for a holiday!” He burst out laughing. “Now, hold still and don’t thrash about.” In an instant, Dergus turned serious and jabbed a sharp fingernail into Gordy’s back. “And if you so much as make a move toward that bag of yours, even a twitch, I’ll wop you right on your stupid noggin.”
A sudden vibration traveled through Gordy’s hands, the cool metal under his fingers beginning to warm.
“What did I say?” Dergus smacked Gordy’s shoulder.
“I didn’t do anything!” Gordy said.
“Yes, you did. You—”
The odd vibration transformed into a low rumble as the scooter’s engine sparked into life. Exhaust belched out from the muffler right into Gordy’s face. He coughed, blinking away the smoke. He tried releasing his grip but realized his fingers were stuck to the metal!
“How are you doing that?” Dergus stood up.
“I’m not doing anything.” He wasn’t, was he? And why couldn’t he let go? Something weird was happening, and Gordy wasn’t sure he wanted to be anywhere near the scooter once it figured out whatever it wanted to do.
Dergus stepped on Gordy’s wrists and tried to kick him free from the muffler. The scooter’s engine roared louder and louder, dark-gray exhaust billowing out in another suffocating cloud. Using a nearby tree for leverage, Dergus tried standing on both of Gordy’s forearms as though they were a balance beam and he a poorly dressed gymnast.
Gordy squirmed, trying to knock him off before his arms were broken.
Dergus grunted but never got the chance to speak as the scooter suddenly shot forward, flipping him backward.
And then Gordy could no longer see Dergus anymore, or the enormous crack in the earth made by the Terramoto Tonic, or the trees, or anything at all for that matter. His eyes had forced themselves shut as the scooter exploded through the forest with Gordy clinging helplessly to its muffler, unable to let go and screaming at the top of his lungs.