27 27 “Hey, brainless!” Jace yelled, seizing Cole’s arm. “Out! Now!”
Mira and Twitch had already abandoned the autocoach. Fumbling with his Jumping Sword, Cole let Jace drag him out the door opposite the T. rex. The nearest of a ragged mob of skeletons approached from only a few paces away. The instant his feet hit the ground, Cole drew his sword, pointed it toward a bare spot on a nearby slope, and shouted, “Away!”
He soared over the rattling gang of skeletons and fell onto his side into some tall brush beside a Neapolitan ice cream sandwich that was the length of a bed. He was near enough to feel the cold radiating from it despite the warmth of the sun. His heart still hammered, but he no longer felt paralyzed. Confined in the autocoach, he had felt doomed. But Jace had snapped him out of it. They would do what they had trained to do at times like this. They would run. And who knew? Maybe they would make it!
Looking back, Cole saw Mira pointing at the Tyrannosaurus. The Shaper’s Flail hurtled through the air, a tangle of sturdy chains and iron balls, and wrapped around its legs. The gigantic plastic lizard pitched forward, carving a trench in the ground just shy of the road.
Having changed course, the stegosaurus now chased Twitch, who hopped ahead of it with tremendous leaps assisted by his wings. Jace made his way toward Mira, lashing skeletons with his golden rope and flinging them into one another.
A rustling behind Cole warned him just in time to dodge the downswing of an ax wielded by a skeleton in a conquistador’s helmet. While the skeleton tried to pull the ax from the ground, Cole hacked off its head. Bony hands grasping, the headless conquistador staggered toward him, and Cole dashed away.
Mira recalled the Shaper’s Flail and sent it into a vicious circle around herself and Jace. The whirling iron balls blasted bones into fragments, and the chains clotheslined dozens of skeletons, hurling them to the ground.
The skeletons near Cole had him surrounded. They approached in a shrinking circle, empty eye sockets devoid of emotion. About half had weapons—pickaxes, swords, and knives. One in a tattered apron held up a rectangular meat cleaver.
Noticing that as the skeletons closed on him, they opened up a lot of the area beyond, Cole patiently centered himself between them and let them get close. At the last moment, he pointed his sword above them and yelled, “Away!”
Something swiped his leg as he cleared the skeletons, tearing his pants and scratching his calf. He had pointed at a spot about ten feet in the air, some distance off to one side, and that was where he ended up. With nothing to land on, he fell the extra ten feet and struck the ground hard, rolling to help absorb the brutal impact. Cole bounced and skidded through the brush, losing hold of his sword.
Shaken and sore, with the taste of dirt and blood in his mouth, Cole scrambled toward his fallen weapon. It was a hard reminder to only point the sword at solid landing areas. Then again, it was better than getting diced into skeleton chow.
Grabbing his sword, Cole staggered to his feet as an even greater number of skeletons swarmed him. His eyes found a giant slice of cheesecake near the limit of the sword’s range. Without time to plan and hoping for the best, Cole extended the sword, cried the word, and sailed disturbingly high. Air rushed over him as the sword pulled him up and forward. An unusual vibration in the handle made Cole wonder if the sword was straining.
As he curved down toward the cheesecake, to his horror, Cole saw that he wouldn’t quite make it. He had tried to stretch the leap too far. The result would be like jumping off a five-story building.
Hands scooped beneath his arms from behind, and suddenly he had an extra boost. Twitch landed behind him on the huge cheesecake, their legs plunging into the surface to their knees.
“Thanks,” Cole said breathlessly, twisting to see his friend.
“Glad I could help,” Twitch said. “We were heading for the same high ground.”
With a good tug, Cole yanked one leg out of the cheesecake, almost losing his shoe in the process. Then he withdrew the other. He found that the surface of the cheesecake was firm enough to support him if he stepped lightly.
They were about thirty feet up. Down below, the stegosaurus bit chunks out of the cheesecake and clubbed it with its tail. Skeletons approached and started scaling it, finger bones clawing eagerly.
Mira came bounding across the field below and sprang to the top of the cheesecake. Jace’s rope fell into numerous loops at his feet, then uncoiled like a giant spring, propelling him to the top of the cheesecake as well.
“They don’t care about the autocoach anymore,” Mira noted.
Cole saw the trotting brick still on the road, disappearing into the trees. In the rush to leave the coach, he had left his bow inside.
“No fun for them without us in it,” Jace said. He crouched and scooped up some cheesecake in his palm. “At least we get to try this.” He took a bite. “Wow, not bad!”
Below, the Tyrannosaurus came raging over to the cheesecake. It wasn’t tall enough to reach them, but it came close enough to make it scary. Roaring and snapping, it leaped in vicious frustration, scattering many of the climbing skeletons.
“Flail, attack,” Mira said, pointing downward. The Shaper’s Flail stormed by, battering skeletons away from the cheesecake wall with a spray of shattered bone.
“With the flail, maybe we can hold out up here,” Cole said.
“Not for long,” Twitch said. “See how the big lizard on four legs is chewing away the base? They’ll tear the cheesecake out from under us.”
“He’s right,” Mira said. “The flail doesn’t seem to hurt the huge lizards. It just knocks them down and scuffs them up a little.”
“They’re plastic dinosaurs,” Cole said. “Giant toys.”
“They seem really fun,” Mira said sarcastically.
“No,” Cole tried to explain. “Normally, they’re little and plastic, and kids make them attack other toys. These ones are the size of the real things.”
“Those are dinosaurs?” Jace asked. “I’ve never seen one. You have them in your world? You must be braver than I thought.”
“Had them,” Cole corrected. “They’re extinct. We only know about them from fossils. These are big toy versions. Which might be worse than the real thing. Actual dinosaurs had bones and could bleed.”
The cheesecake shuddered as the Tyrannosaurus stopped leaping upward and ripped directly into it, biting and clawing. The stegosaurus had burrowed partially out of sight, tunneling furiously into the base of the enormous slice.
Mango fluttered down and landed on Mira’s shoulder. “I found the route with the least enemies. At least for the moment. I’ll scout as we go. If you’re fast enough, I might be able to guide you out of here.”
“The bird is our best chance,” Jace said.
Cole looked down. Skeletal hordes besieged the cheesecake, backed by an endless flow of reinforcements. Horns and trumpets continued to blow. A Triceratops the size of a bulldozer was rumbling their way as well.
He didn’t want to go down among all those fearsome creatures. It was pandemonium. Anything could happen, almost all of it bad. Right now the battle felt paused. But if he sat still, the cheesecake would be eroded, and he’d be toast. Although a big part of him wanted to stay put, because it made the monsters seem farther away, he also understood that their only chance was to keep running.
“You’re right,” Cole said.
“I agree,” Twitch added. “Mango’s our new best friend.”
Cole turned to Mira. “How good are the swords at jumping from a high place to a low place?”
“Not bad,” she said. “They’ll brake you at the end, like with any jump. Leaping down looks worse than jumping up, and kind of feels worse, but you’ll survive.”
“Skeletons!” Twitch shouted.
Several were scrambling over the top of the back of the cheesecake slice. Mira directed the flail at them and sent them flying, but more replaced them.
“Time to bail,” Jace said. “Mango?”
“Follow me,” the cockatiel said, flapping to the opposite side of the cheesecake from the dinosaurs and perching on the edge. “Looks good. Ready?”
“Go,” Mira ordered.
The bird took flight. Mira pointed her Jumping Sword at a downward angle, shouted the command word, and then whooshed toward a fairly empty clearing screened by trees.
Cole aimed his sword at the same destination. It felt like preparing to jump off a building, with nothing but his trust in the sword to assure him he could land it. But the cheesecake was shuddering, and more skeletons were reaching the top, so he shouted the command word and sprang.
Instead of falling straight down, the sword tugged him forward in a long, sloping descent. His legs brushed the treetops at the edge of the clearing, and he landed hard, skidding to his knees. Scabs earned on previous tumbles burst painfully.
Twitch landed near him, as did Jace, who swung down with his rope connected to tree branches. Mira pointed at Mango and jumped again, this time low and far. Cole imitated her jump and stumbled to a halt against a tree.
Skeletons dressed as pirates hustled his way. Some wore scarves on their skulls. One had a captain’s hat and a peg leg from the knee down. Most were armed with knives and cutlasses.
Jace passed him, his rope ensnaring distant tree trunks, then shortening and carrying him along. Twitch buzzed by overhead. Cole extended his sword and jumped again, slicing along a narrow line between the trees.
Another jump and they reached a field filled with the most expansive playground equipment Cole had ever seen. The complicated arrangement of slides, ladders, tunnels, climbing walls, tire swings, poles, knotted ropes, trampolines, monkey bars, and balance beams would have filled a city block, and it had to be ten stories high, all linking together to form a soaring maze. It would be the ultimate setting for an epic game of tag, but skeletons trying to tag him to death would limit the fun.
Mira jumped high onto the playset, landing on a bouncy bridge made from rope and wood planks. The Shaper’s Flail followed her unobtrusively. Cole joined her, grateful for the gentler landing that came with heading upward.
“Hey!” a voice called.
Cole whirled, surprised. The broad face of a freckled girl with auburn hair in braids poked out at him from the mouth of a tube slide. She looked a few years older than him, maybe fourteen or so.
“Who are you?” Mira asked.
“I can help,” the girl said. “But you have to come now.” She didn’t sound scared. If anything, she seemed a bit bossy.
“Who are you?” Mira repeated.
“It’s not a trick,” she said. “I’m Amanda, Brady’s sitter.”
“His babysitter?” Cole verified.
“Not actually,” Amanda said. “He modeled me after her. I helped protect him. I saw you getting chased and thought you could use a hand. The whole place will join the hunt soon.”
Twitch and Jace joined them, making the bridge sway and wobble.
“Who is this?” Jace asked.
“Brady’s babysitter,” Cole said.
“Now or never,” Amanda said, glancing out of the tube slide.
“She says she can help us,” Mira said.
“Only if you hurry,” Amanda said.
“Would you put on this shawl?” Cole asked, fingering the clasp at his throat.
“Why?” Amanda snorted. “What’s it going to do to me?
Without a good answer, Cole shrugged.
Amanda huffed. “Not interested. I was just trying to do you a favor. The worst of them aren’t on your trail yet—the mud people, the Blind Ones, the flying squid-faced monsters.”
“We’ll come,” Mira said.
Amanda started sliding.
“You sure?” Jace asked.
“Sure enough,” Mira said, swinging into the slide and disappearing. The Shaper’s Flail slithered in after her. Jace followed, then Twitch.
Mango darted over to Cole, alighting on a bar near him. “Where are you going?”
“I think we found help,” Cole said. “We’ll be back.”