The Call (The Magnificent 12 1)

They took a ship with a band of local folk who claimed they traveled to the island on a regular basis to hunt for the delicious koraroo, their word meaning “bouncing meat.”

And thus, long, long ago, did Grimluk and Miladew depart for Australia, although in those days it wasn’t called that.

Twenty-seven

They ran—straight into the tunnel Risky had cut. They ran like some unholy demon was chasing them.

And she was.

Karri was in front, shining her flashlight. Jarrah was right behind, with Mack crowding behind her.

Stefan had snatched up the fallen shovel and was now trotting backward, turned to face the monstrous princess.

“Back off!” Stefan yelled. “I will totally hit a girl!”

The tunnel was surprisingly smooth, but it was tubular, so the sides curved up and that made running awkward. Just the same, Mack was giving it his best.

He glanced back to see Risky just twenty feet behind Stefan. She was still holding her head on, which slowed her down a bit, particularly when she banged into the low ceiling and knocked her head straight back.

It took her a few seconds to get the head settled again.

“Ruuuun!” Mack yelled. Not that anyone needed any encouragement.

Suddenly they were out of the tunnel and tumbling across sand and through low bushes under bright stars and pale, wispy moonlit clouds. Not that Mack cared about those details.

“The buggy!” Karri gasped.

It was where they’d left it, but that was still a hundred yards away. Mack felt sharp bushes tear at his legs, and felt sand filling his shoes, but he didn’t care, because he was very strongly motivated to run and not really worry about scratches or shoe discomfort.

“Hey, look!” Stefan said brightly. “Kangaroos!”

Sure enough, a small herd of kangaroos—although people sometimes said a “mob” of kangaroos—was bouncing along parallel with them. It made Mack feel he was moving pretty slowly because the kangaroos were quicker. They bounded, flew, and practically levitated over the ground.

Karri reached the buggy and jumped in. The rest of them piled in after her, a tangle of arms and legs, all shrieking and gasping for breath.

At which point Karri fired up the engine. The rack of lights snapped on, and there in the glow they saw Risky.

She stood there, smiling. Her head seemed to be once again firmly in place. Good for her, but not good from Mack’s point of view.

The buggy lurched into gear and went tearing straight for Risky.

She sidestepped it like a bullfighter. Mack heard her laugh delightedly as they shot past.

But then the buggy was tearing across the bush, bouncing and jouncing and vibrating, and all Mack could think was, Faster, faster, faster!

He looked back and saw Princess Ereskigal standing, almost a lonely figure. Then she raised her arms high, and Mack could see, though not hear, that she was shouting something.

She probably wasn’t shouting, “Bye, kids! Have fun!”

In fact, she definitely wasn’t, because behind Risky a storm was growing. It was like a wall of sand, as if the desert itself had come to life and was now hurtling after the fleeing buggy.

Tornadoes spawned to right and left. A howling rose, so loud it obliterated the sound of the buggy.

The storm front, that crashing wave of sand, blew and snatched Risky up with it. She was riding the storm wall like a surfer.

“Dingoes!” Jarrah cried, and pointed.

A pack of what might be yellowish wolves was vectoring to cut them off, running with what could only be supernatural speed.