Chapter 24
Battle Royale
“Why are the goblins just hiding over there in the forest? Why did they stop?” Rick asked Kile.
“They don’t like sunlight. They won’t come out I don’t think,” the little troll answered.
“Well then, how long before they figure out they can go around the field?” father asked.
“Hmmm…” Kile pondered, tapping his teeth with his black nail on his index finger. “Not sure they will. Goblins are not very smart. That’s why they fight like army ants. No…strategy?”
He looked at each of the humans hoping to confirm he used the right word.
“They smell you from across the field. They will wait until sun down and come across the field.”
“I see,” Rick said, still unsure. Even if the goblin leader wasn’t that bright he was certainly tenacious and he couldn’t risk the assessment. He worked to come up with a plan, mostly because he wasn’t sure they’d stop at town’s edge, unless, as Kile had suggested, the humans worked together to turn them back with their superior weapons.
Then the leader began barking again. The entire mass of goblins began moving and broiling at the edge of the forest, clicking, hissing and grunting loudly. Finally, they moved. They pushed out into the field despite the sunlight, the bridge troll just ahead of them.
“Uh, I haven’t seen them do that before…” Kile muttered, eyes wide. The goblins did seem to be squinting and some raised their arms in front of their eyes. But the sunlight did not seem to be a major roadblock for them this time.
Rick stood on his feet and shouldered the M-16. He flipped the safety to three-round bursts and lined his sites. CRACK-CRACK-CRACK! The weapon burst in rapid succession. Just outside the tree line two goblins fell, one immediately behind the other. CRACK-CRACK-CRACK aimed a little further down the line. By then all the other humans and trolls alike next to Rick had palmed their ears and peered to watch the results.
Another burst towards the opposite end of the line of goblins and another slimy body fell. The charge was halted. Goblins stalled looking around and those near them stared at their several fallen comrades. CRACK-CRACK-CRACK came a fourth burst from Rick’s gun and still more goblins fell.
“I only have a couple clips, guys,” Junior stated and took up aim at the middle of the goblin column again, which had turned and began retreating into the forest. “Got any suggestions?”
None came, so he changed his tactic about the time he needed a reload. As he dropped the spent clip he asked, “Alright. Kile? Can you tell which one the leader is? I’ve heard him, but I haven’t actually seen him.”
“Mmmm…usually, they wear red markings,” the troll replied. “It’s a sign of their conquests…like blood from their enemies. At least that’s what they say about them from the old days.”
Rick looked at Dronosh to confirm, who nodded and grimaced. With the new clip loaded he held his fire and awaited the goblins’ reaction. The giant Bridge Troll had taken several thunderous stomps into the field before he realized his goblin alliance had deserted him. It turned and looked at the tree line for direction. Apparently the Bridge Troll was not the brightest military mind either, standing back exposed.
Then the goblin leader could be heard barking orders again.
“Do I shoot him?” Rick asked nervously, flicking the safety back to three-round bursts again.
“Yes!” cried Kile. “You can shoot Bridge Trolls!”
But then Dronosh extended his large hand and patted Rick’s weapon pointing it downwards. When Rick looked up the larger troll was merely shaking his head. He then looked at Kile and mumbled something in Trollish.
Kile’s enthusiasm dropped a little. “Dronosh says if you shoot his back with that it won’t really hurt him. He’ll just get angry.”
The little troll thought about it for a moment. “You don’t have a bigger gun with you do you?”
Little Ricky laughed a little at the small troll’s suggestion.
“Robert?” Dad asked.
“Yes?”
“I want you try your helicopter again. Let’s just see if we can scare them off like we did before.”
Within about thirty seconds Rob had the helicopter in the air and moving out of the trees. The Bridge Troll meanwhile seemed to be gesturing like he was arguing with the goblin leader and was thoroughly distracted during the preparation.
As the helicopter made its way across the field, it finally caught the giant’s attention. He turned and eyed it suspiciously. From the collection of goblins one of them fired a heavy bolt at the helicopter, nearly clipping it.
“Think I found the leader,” Rick said, eyeing down the sites of his gun. “But I don’t think I can hit him from here without getting through a whole bunch more of them.”
Another arrow was fired within a few seconds, and Rick confirmed: the archer was wearing a reddish sort of head wrap alright. Perhaps if he could take that one down they could end the skirmish and send the rest packing.
Then the great Bridge Troll reached out and snatched the helicopter from the air, its plastic body collapsing and shattering immediately between the stump-like fingers of the beast. It brought it to its mouth and tried to smash it all in in one bite. Fragments of helicopter were spat back out immediately as though it were a sour apple that surprised the partaker. Turning to the humans and trolls on the north side the creature hunkered down and howled at them. Then, as the goblin leader barked some encouragement, it began trotting towards them again.
“My turn!” Little Ricky said.
He stood up in full site between a couple Aspens and cupped his hands in front of him, then spread them apart like he was trying to demonstrate a firework bursting. Before the Bridge Troll a brilliant flash of light strobed the field and the troll halted for a moment swatting at the air before him. But it wasn’t long before the thing regained his balance and peered into the trees, looking for his targets again.
“Well…” Little Ricky smirked. “It works on deer pretty well. Kinda thought it might scare him off.”
Dronosh and Scrimp chuckled slightly at the idea. Rick patted his boy on the head and thanked him for the effort. The Bridge Troll started thundering towards them.
Looking around and then to his parents, Robert said, “Where’s Marissa? …And Kile?”
They were gone. He looked down the hill and did not see any trace of them. A thought occurred just then: Kile could shimmer and Marissa could disguise herself…if she’d had water still. So maybe they’d just gotten into a safe place.
“I think we need to leave!” Rob shouted to the others, but Rick checked about him quickly and decided against it. The trees had thinned too much and the huge Bridge Troll would barely be slowed by them. He’d squash them within a couple minutes of trying to run. And he did not want to break up ranks as he would a military command to scatter the giant’s targets before him. This was family. You don’t risk one to save the others. We stick together! He thought.
Raising the M-16 again he popped four squeezes at the Bridge Troll. Dust and a little blood spurted first from its forehead, then immediately across the chest in two places. When the thing seemed to simply become enraged and hunker down for a full run at the shooter, Rick sent the last burst at its knees. Nothing seemed to slow it at all. This was the end it seemed and he made ready to be the sacrifice and send the rest of his troop scattering.
Then a little boy’s voice rang out across the meadow. Quickly a wall of flame rose up before the Bridge Troll about five of its paces ahead. It had made it nearly two-thirds of the way across the field and the flame stalled it just in time.
Mr. and Mrs. Johansson looked to their right to see Little Ricky standing on a pine or spruce tree trunk that had been knocked over by wind or some other force. His hands were raised and splayed out above his head and he was screaming something that sounded like it must be in Trollish. The flames in the field grew
louder.
As they watched, Rob decided the flames must be an illusion because the burn did not progress at all, but the Bridge Troll was definitely reacting to them as if they were hot. Perhaps Ricky had learned to push the effect of the illusion further into the beast’s mind the way Kile used glimmer to hide himself in others’ minds.
It soon seemed the Bridge Troll was figuring out the illusion too. It squatted down on its haunches, pulled its great arms back like they were spring-loaded and howled at the fire. Then it dashed through them. It neared 100 feet. Then 50.
Rick pointed the rifle directly into the Bridge Troll’s face to see if he could blind it, and then it suddenly fell to its side, knocked several yards as though some giant bat had taken a swing at it.
From the direction of the impact a swirling shimmer moved towards the giant Bridge Troll. Then the shimmer spell dropped completely. King Karapace looked at the group in the tree line and nodded.
Dronosh looked to Rick and held out his palm. “Friend!” he said loudly as he’d heard Kile say earlier.
Daniel uttered another small curse from his position several feet behind the Johanssons and trolls and Scrimp turned and smiled at him.
Rick waited, gun raised to see what would happen. As the mighty King of the Mountain Trolls approached the Bridge Troll he raised his staff and then was booted by one of its feet several yards back in the direction from which he came.
Quickly the Bridge Troll rose from its position and then faced King Karapace, hunkering down and howling as he had at the flames. It was going to charge. The King spun around, swinging his staff with its rough, knobby end in a full round and struck the beast across its jaw as it finished the threatening growl.
The blow must have struck hard. Rob thought perhaps it had dislocated the beast’s jaw. He waited to see if by chance it might keel over unconscious. King Karapace seemed to be doing the same. Finally recovering the giant swiped at its head and face a few times. Then it stood full height, raised its arms as high as it could and formed fists as though it were going to literally pound the Mountain Troll king straight into the ground.
Rick took his opportunity. He’d fired twelve rounds with the four bursts seconds earlier. He couldn’t remember how many he’d fired before that. He squeezed the trigger three times, each producing the CRACK-CRACK-CRACK. The triple crack resounded twice more and then on the fourth pull only one CRACK! He’d emptied the rest of his clip into the giant troll’s armpit hoping to find an artery or something vulnerable.
The creature howled in immense pain and its left arm above the large number of entrance wounds dropped. It took two steps to turn towards its attacker, mewling in pain. Then with his giant palm on his good arm the troll clutched at his chest. Rick had done it.
Bridge Trolls weigh roughly the same as a city bus. When the green troll hit the ground it seemed to thunder under the feet of the humans and trolls in the tree line. But it was downed. No more would this creature aid the goblins in their threat. And once other humans learned of its giant carcass lying in the Maple Springs Airfield, no more would they live in secret from the race quickly encroaching upon its territory. Rick wondered silently how many more lived in the Rockies.
As King Karapace nodded his approval at Rick, he then beckoned all of the group out into the field. Rick shouldered his rifle and the rest lifted their packs and joined Scrimp and Dronosh in the meadow’s edge.
“But guys? Where’s Marissa and Kile,” Robert asked as he looked around stepping into the sunlight too.
“We’ll find them, don’t worry,” Rick said.
Little Ricky hopped down from his fallen tree and ran into the field to stand beside the king. As he arrived, the King smiled and gave him a thumbs up, which was promptly returned. Then looking about the group he gestured with his other arm, pointing the staff at the tree line to the south.
There in shadows they could hear the goblins squealing and barking as though angry or frustrated. Some sounded as though they were choking. Robert peered as sharply into the woods as he could and what he saw surprised even him after all the events he’d witnessed during that summer. Kile was just shaking off his shimmer and apparently had extended it to Marissa as well. She stood right at the tree line, arms extended and concentrating as she faced away from them into the woods harboring the hordes of goblins.
Tree limbs, roots, vines from the forest floor were all moving and grappling with the goblins. A few had broken loose and made a run back up the mountain side, but most were struggling or already dead in the grip of tightening foliage about their necks and bodies. Marissa had found a way to control all of the vegetation about her and was dispatching the horrid little tree-frog beasts with them.
As the last of the goblins could be heard far off retreating up the mountain, Robert knew the battle had been won. But if the goblins were seeking territory, he also knew it would only be a matter of time before more humans would be involved and Maple Springs might be engulfed in a faerie war zone.
Troll Brother Page 66