They ran across the lawn and out into the motel parking lot. Travis looked in several different directions, suddenly unsure of where to run.

Nish came to his rescue. “This way!” he shouted. “I know where it goes!”

With Nish leading, the three Screech Owls began running as fast as they could. Nish moved quickly, puffing loudly but running well. He was already sweating. Sam covered the ground as fast as she moved on the ice, seeming to eat up the distance. Travis brought up the rear, finding it difficult to run as quickly as the others without his arms free. But he was holding the evidence, and had no intention of dropping it or leaving it or, worst of all, giving it up.

He heard Nish’s voice, but at first he wasn’t sure it was Nish. It sounded like a trapped animal, a squeal more than a voice, and filled with sudden terror.

“They’re coming!”

Out of the corner of his eye Travis could see two burly figures moving out of the side door of the motel and into the parking lot. One pointed–at him!–and they began running in the Owls’ direction.

“M-M-MOOOOOVE IT!” Travis found himself screaming.

The men were giving chase, the buzz-cut guy and one of the two muscle men. The third must have still been back in the motel, checking the rooms.

Nish was in full flight now, tearing down the streets past the university buildings, headed towards a dark, green park at the far end. Travis didn’t know what to think. Perhaps they could lose the men more easily in a park. But then, if they did get caught, who would be there to help them?

There was no time for debate. They made for the park.

Travis could feel his chest burning. His breath seemed on fire as it jumped from his lungs. He was sweating, his heart pounding. Nish’s face was beet red, his mouth wide open, and sweat danced in drops off his cheeks and forehead. Sam was breathing terribly, but still seemed strong.

Sam looked back at Travis. “Here!” she puffed, reaching out with both hands. “I’ll take it a bit!”

Travis handed the snow globe to her gratefully. He felt instant energy, new speed as he gave it up, but the relief didn’t last. Another dozen strides and his lungs were again on fire, his legs turning to rubber.

But he was doing better than Sam. She was suddenly falling back, crimson in the face, and gasping horribly for air. She stumbled once and nearly fell with the snow globe. Travis reached over and she handed it back. She seemed angry–but whether at him or herself, Travis couldn’t tell.

Into the thick of the park the three Owls ran, their pounding running shoes snapping twigs and sending dirt flying. Branches stung their faces as they pushed through, hoping that around the next tree they would find an adult, a policeman–anyone who could help.

Sam was still slipping back. Her breathing seemed loud enough for all of them, deep rattling gasps that cut sharply through the silence of the bush they were invading.

Travis could hear the men crashing through the trees. They were cursing the branches and snapping them off as they elbowed deeper and deeper into the wooded park. Fortunately, the big men were slowing down in the thick bush. Had the branches not blocked them, they might already have reached Sam, who was steadily falling behind the two boys.

Did Nish really know where he was going? Travis wondered. He was acting like he knew, but Travis had known Nish to fake it a million times before. This was no time for bluffing.

Nish was up ahead, picking the path they would take. His head was spinning from side to side, a sure sign he was getting confused. Travis suddenly felt angry with Nish for bringing them there–but still, where else could they have gone? At least the men weren’t gaining on them any more.

Sam suddenly stopped, gagging alarmingly as she tried to breathe. She leaned over and held one arm out, begging them to wait. She was beat, exhausted. It seemed she couldn’t go on.

Up ahead, Nish stopped and spun on his heels, terror in his eyes.

“We’re trapped!” he shouted back.

They had come to the ocean. They could go no further.

Travis could hear the men thrashing through the bush towards them.

“There’s…b-beach…that…w-way!” Sam gasped, pointing.

They looked to their left. The woods gave way to open ground; beyond that was sand.

There were bodies in the distance.

Naked bodies!

Nish smiled. “I’m home!”

“You’re dead!” Travis shouted angrily at him. This was no time to fool around.

Nish had led them to Wreck Beach, the nudist beach!

“I can’t run any more!” Sam cried, her eyes filling with tears. She was puffing terribly, gasping for air.

“What’ll we do?” Travis asked.

Nish had already decided–his shirt over his head, his shorts dropping over his sandals, his boxers down past his knees.

“They’ll never chase me there!” he shouted.

He turned, buck naked, and yanked the snow globe out of the Travis’s hands. Before they could say a word, he bolted out of the cover of the woods and onto the beach.

“GO FOR IT, NISH!” Sam called.

Travis couldn’t believe it. He couldn’t even speak. He could only stare at the back of the best friend he had in the world, Nish’s barenaked cheeks churning as he hurtled, sand flying all about him, directly into the throng of early-season nude sunbathers.

Nish was wearing nothing but a snow globe, clutched so tight to his chest he looked like a football player heading for a touchdown.

“HEY!” a nasty, deep voice shouted. “STOP!”

A little distance away the two men had also broken clear of the woods. They couldn’t see Travis and Sam in the cover of the branches, but they could plainly see Nish charging across the sand with the prize they were after.

They never even looked for Sam and Travis. They set off across the soft sand, sinking and stumbling with each step, two fully clothed men in dress shoes running and yelling into a crowd of peaceful nudists, most of whom were scattering with their towels and umbrellas to make way for the miniature nudist who was barrelling straight down the beach with what appeared to be a crystal ball in his arms. The stumbling men pushed on in pursuit, oblivious to the sudden rise of a police siren ahead at the far side of the beach.

Two police cars with flashing lights and sirens pulled off the hard ground and fishtailed onto the beach, throwing sand in every direction.

Nish never looked back. He kept on going towards the police cruiser, his legs a blur, his pink round body hunched protectively over the snow globe. And as the first policeman jumped out of the car, the naked young runaway blew right past him into the safety of the front seat.

The two men tried to turn back, but it was too late. They stumbled on the soft sand and went down, stumbled over each other again as they tried to get back on their feet. They fell back, cursing, as the police moved in on them with service revolvers drawn.

The two men threw up their hands in surrender.

Beaten by a naked twelve-year-old.