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much to the amusement of the others.
Suddenly Oak felt something stronger than fear for himself or concern for Merry: embarrassment. This
was her nightmare. He felt like an intruder, a Peeping Tom spying on her deepest emotions.
We've got to get her out of there, he rasped at Kakombe. The next time one of those things rides
over her she could lose an arm or a couple of ribs. He started to rise. Kakombe held him back.
Now it is my turn to say use your head, my friend. There are too many. I see no guns, but there are
many knives, not to mention claws and teeth.
So what do we do? I'd rather take a chance than lie here and watch them cut her up.
Kakombe looked thoughtful. When he spoke again he sounded almost mischievous. Do you think you
can run as fast as a Maasai moran?
Depends on the circumstances. I'm faster than I look.
Suppose you are being chased and are running for your life?
Oak nodded. Yeah, I think that would help me maintain a pretty fair pace. What've you got in mind?
Kakombe turned. We must return to an earlier place, an earlier nightmare. We must go back to where
we were.
Back? Oak's expression reflected his confusion. You mean the lions? The fire will be dying down.
What if they're still around there?
That is what I am counting on.
Oak grasped what the senior warrior had in mind. It just didn't strike him as very promising. Are you
sure you want to try this? This is your nightmare we're returning to. The last thing most people want to do
once they've shaken a bad dream is live it over again.
It's the only way, my friend. Yes, it frightens me, but I cannot think of anything else to do. And we have
no time. He gestured back toward the depression. Several of the demonic bikers were parking their
machines. Those who had already dismounted were fighting and joking among themselves while pointing
toward the helpless Merry.
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Probably there was a better way, but Oak didn't manage to think of it as he followed Kakombe back
into the woods, retracing their earlier headlong flight. Finding the place was easy; a broad swath of jungle
had been reduced to icy powder. Indigo-blue flames flickered here and there, isolated cold hot spots.
The air above the bur was arctic.
There was despair in the giant's voice. They've gone.
No, over there! Oak pointed with the tip of his spear toward a still standing clump of high grass.
Tawny outlines were visible within. He started jumping up and down and yelling. Hey, you, lions! Over
here! Come on and eat me if you can!
This is without question the craziest thing I have ever done in my life, he thought. But he kept bouncing
around and screaming. Next to him Kakombe was doing likewise, making loud whooping noises and
whistling shrilly.
The heads of the two lionesses lifted simultaneously. The instant they settled on the source of the
disturbance the curiosity in their eyes was replaced by a look as cold as the flames that still licked at the
vegetation surrounding them. As they rolled onto their feet Oak saw other yellow shadows beginning to
emerge from the woods behind them. One particular lioness was staring straight at him, her gaze shifting
neither to right nor left as she advanced, like a bombardier locking on to her target.
Something rapped him hard on the shoulder: Kakombe's hand. The giant had begun to back up. Oak
joined him, keeping his spear ready. As soon as the standing vegetation had closed in between them and
the pride, they turned and took off.
Just pretend you're back in school running the 400, he told himself. Don't look back for the other
runners and you won't lose your nerve. Nobody thought you were fast back then until you showed em
otherwise, just like nobody thought you were smart until you proved it in class.
So if you're so smart, why are you doing this?
Kakombe ran alongside him, his huge strides eating up the ground like those of a giraffe. Oak knew the
giant could outdistance him, was glad he chose not to. They would fight together, they would run
together, and they would bring this off together. He prayed.
They slipped through brush and around trees. In the denser growth Oak had the advantage. Kakombe
simply bulled his way through obstacles, but every time he had to run over something it took a little out of
him.
Out of him, Oak thought. His own heart was beating against his chest, trying to force its way to freedom.
His throat was dry and his lungs threatened to burst. A rawness was growing in his throat but he didn't
slow down, nothing to it, just keep lifting those knees and planting those feet and hope that Kakombe
doesn't take a wrong turn because if he did they'd run out of steam and vanish beneath a wave of big
cats.
It was eerily quiet in the woods with the only sound the painful panting of the two running men. The
pursuing lions made no noise. They were conserving their energy for the forthcoming kill. Only
occasionally was the silence broken by the sound of brush being smashed down and heavy masses
striking the ground.
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They leaped together over the edge of the slope, arms windmilling to maintain their balance, and actually
picked up speed as they half ran, half fell downhill. So sudden was their arrival and so intent were the
demons on their amusement that the two men were in among the cloud of dust before anyone noticed
their presence. One gargoyle whose belly hung down over his belt was just about to bestow his attentions
on Merry when Oak slammed the butt end of his spear into its mouth. Splintered teeth and blood went
flying. The obese monstrosity staggered backward and dragged two of its companions down into the dirt
with it.
Merry tried to say something but her throat was gagged by dust and tears. All she could do was sob and
try to choke out a few words as Oak slashed at her restraints with Nafasi's wondrous razor-edged knife
while Kakombe stood prepared to fend off any assailants. Most of the demons were so drunk and
occupied with their choppers they still hadn't noticed the intruders in their midst.
She was scratched and bruised over every inch of her body, but Oak didn't see anything that looked like
a crippling injury. The serious wounds she'd suffered were mostly mental.
You'll never get away, she finally managed to gasp. There are too many of them. They'll kill you and
me and Kakombe too.
Maybe not, he snapped as his eyes hunted for a way out.
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