Part 16 (1/2)
”What?”
”Nothing!”
Claire smacked the barrier with the palms of both hands, then backed away. ”We're going to have to use the access corridor to get behind it!”
”I hate this, but you're right!”
They turned back toward the store, but before they'd taken a single step, the door to the storeroom crashed open and half a dozen misshapen bodies in badly fitting navy blue track suits charged through. Essentially bipedal, they looked like someone had crossed a rhinoceros with a hockey player.
”Great! Not wanting them doesn't seem to be working either!”
”What are they?”
”Who cares?” Diana grabbed Claire's hand, yanked her around until she was facing down the concourse, and gave her a shove. ”RUN!”
Sam was already almost at the food court.
The Tailor of Gloucester had become The Tailer of Gloucester with a number of samples hanging in the window. Diana would have liked a closer look at the multicolored fog swirling about inside the travel agency, but something slammed into her backpack as she pa.s.sed the store and she decided that maybe concentrating on running would be the better plan. Fortunately, here on the Otherside, concentrating on running was enough to lend new speed to her feet.
”What are they throwing?” Claire demanded as they began weaving through the tables in the food court.
Something buzzed past Diana's ear with an almost overpowering scent of gardenias, dented one of the metal chairs, and bounced out of sight.
”I think it's scented candles!”
”Oh, that's just great! Those things are deadly!”
”Only in enclosed s.p.a.ces!”
On the far side of the food court, they followed Sam to the right; the cras.h.i.+ng and banging of their pursuers through the tables and chairs drowning out the distant sound of the sirens.
”Where are we going?”
”I don't know!”
”Hey! Up here!”
Both Keepers skidded to a halt and squinting up through the hexagonal opening to the upper level trying to make out the features of the person leaning over the edge.
”Are you a good witch or a bad witch?” the spiky silhouette demanded.
”We're not . . .” Claire began but Diana drove an elbow into her side.
”Good witches!”
”Then haul a.s.s to the stairs! We'll hold them off.”
”We're not . . .”