"They took Peggy," Theresa said. "They tied her up and left her for Kroggot. They want it to take her instead of someone from their tribe. They had the same plans for us."
"Where?" Clint asked.
"Straight ahead," she answered and took off running.
Clint let go of the savage and chased after Theresa. Malcolm was close behind.
Theresa ran through the forest, dodging the trees in her way. In places, the fog was as high as her waist. In other places, it hung as low as her knees. She wished she could see the ground. With each stride, she feared stepping on something that might cause her to twist her ankle. She hoped she was moving too fast for anything to grab her feet.
Leaping through a narrow gap between two trees, she suddenly found herself at the edge of a clearing. Fifty yards ahead stood the platform she had seen in her trance. There was a body on top of it.
"There she is!" Clint yelled.
"All right!" Malcolm gasped.
As they ran across the clearing, Theresa's eyes swept the red sky. The terrible creature was nowhere in sight.
"Peggy!" Clint called.
The woman raised her head and stared at them.
Seconds later, they reached the platform.
"It's okay," Clint said to Peggy. "We'll get you out of here."
Peggy's face twisted. She began to cry, her body shaking as she sobbed. Malcolm took out a pocket knife. He sliced through the leathery strips that bound Peggy's feet to the platform. Theresa pulled at the knot on Peggy's right wrist, and Clint worked on freeing her left hand.
Suddenly, a shadow fell over them all.
They looked up.
Kroggot glided over their heads.
Peggy screamed.
The creature's head twisted down to watch them as it sailed by on 30-foot wings. Its snarling mouth showed rows of pointed teeth.
Malcolm hurried to Clint's side and cut Peggy's hand loose.
With a screech that sent a chill up Theresa's back, the huge beast turned in the air. The wind of its flapping wings tore holes in the ground fog. It climbed high overhead, then dived at them.
Clint swung the rifle off his back, but Theresa saw that he wasn't quick enough.
Malcolm drew and fired. His bullet ripped through one of the wings. Kroggot kept coming toward them. Peggy's right hand was still tied to the platform. Theresa tugged her revolver from the shoulder holster. She shot the leather strip apart.
Peggy rolled toward her.
"Look out!" Clint yelled.
Theresa pulled Peggy off the platform. Then she cried out in pain and terror as the claws of the beast dug into her shoulders. The wings flapped. Her feet left the ground.
No, Theresa thought. This can't be happening!
The silence exploded with Clint and Malcolm's gunfire.
The creature shrieked. Its claws opened.
Theresa dropped. Her feet pounded the ground. Her knees folded, and she tumbled forward into the fog.
Clint and Malcolm helped her up. "Are you okay?" Clint asked.
Theresa was shaking. Her teeth clicked together. She shut her mouth tightly to stop them. She nodded.
Not far away, one wing of the grounded beast jutted out of the fog like a shiny black sail.
"Let's get out of here," Malcolm said.
"Do you think you can walk okay?" Clint asked Theresa.
"I'd rather run," she said.
The four of them raced across the clearing and into the forest. There, Clint took the lead.
We 're going home, Theresa thought. In minutes, we'll be out of here.
Unless the savages attack again.
Unless the thing on the other side of the forest tries to wrap itself around us.
Unless the door to the real world is already shut.
Don't panic, she told herself.
We'll make it. We have to!
Her legs ached. Her pumping arms felt heavy. Her lungs burned. But she didn't slow down.
Off to the side, the head of a savage rose out of the fog. Theresa could see that it was the leader. He turned quickly to look at them.
Don't try anything, she thought. Please. We nailed Kroggot. We did you a big favor.
The head ducked out of sight.
They ran past the place where the leader was hiding. Soon, they left the forest behind. As they dashed over the field, Theresa's eyes searched the distance. She spotted the tree with Malcolm's bright jacket draped from the rope.
Clint went down!
He disappeared in the fog. Theresa tumbled over him.
"It's got me," he gasped.
"No!" Theresa yelled.
Malcolm dived onto them. He pulled out his knife.
"My leg!" Clint cried out.
"Sorry," Malcolm said. "There. Let's go!"
They scrambled to their feet and sprinted for the tree.
Suddenly, Dennis appeared beside it. "Quick!" he shouted. "It's shutting!"
Peggy ran into his arms. He shoved her sideways and she vanished. Then he was gone, too.
Clint grabbed Theresa's hand. He tugged her to the place where the rope stopped in mid-air and pushed her through the opening.
Hank Bishop caught her on the other side.
As they stumbled over the grass, Theresa looked around in time to see Clint squeezing through the gap.
He turned to look back. "Malcolm!" he yelled. "Forget the coat!"
Clint's head disappeared as if it had been cut off. So did one arm. Then he fell backward into the daylight. He had Malcolm by the hand.
Malcolm came out hanging onto his jacket. He flopped on top of Clint.
"You did it!" Hank shouted. "You did it!"
Clint and Malcolm got to their feet.
Yes, thought Clint, we've done it again. Now if we can just keep everyone from talking about it. But Peggy and Dennis and Hank should be willing to go along with us. We did help them out of a jam. And they don't want the public to panic any more than we do. They know what that kind of fear is like.
Malcolm stared at his jacket. Most of one sleeve was gone. It looked as if it had been neatly snipped off with scissors.
He frowned. "My lucky jacket. Just look at it. It's ruined."
Clint laughed. "I'll buy you a new one, pal. I owe you." Bending over, he unwrapped a hairy snake-like thing from around his leg. Near his ankle, it ended in a bloody stump. "And I'll buy you a new pocket knife while I'm at it."
Malcolm grinned. "Never mind the knife, I want that."
Clint handed the remains of the creature to him. Malcolm looked at it closely. "Ugly," he said. "Ug-leee."
Theresa lay down on the long warm grass. The sky was deep blue and cloudless. A flock of sparrows flew by.
We made it, she thought. We're really here.
Then she began to weep.
Richard Laymon, Thin Air
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