Roarn Rex's Arc

Chapter 4 of 4

Roarn walked the ridge trail with the ruined sword wrapped in cloth under his arm. Heat Meat had gone ahead on the raptor car to warn his cousin they were coming for the light book. That left Roarn alone on foot, and the trail cut through two miles of open rock before it reached the Rangers' clubhouse. He knew what waited in that open rock. The giant who guarded the lab had a footprint the size of a shield, and he had been seen on this ridge twice since dawn. Roarn moved fast and low. He kept close to the boulders. Halfway across the flat, a shadow blocked the sun. Brutus Grimm stepped out from behind a stone stack. Gray skin, ripped black pants, the word DARKNESS thick across his chest. He was the henchman who had stolen the egg in the first place. He filled the trail like a wall. "Little red one," Brutus said. "No sword now." Roarn dropped the cloth bundle. The bent blade clanged on the rock. He backed up a step. Brutus took two, and the ground shook. "Doctor wants you slow," Brutus said. He reached. Roarn ducked under the hand and ran. Brutus grabbed for his tail and caught a fistful of red costume. The armor plating in the chest pulled tight against Roarn's ribs. Brutus lifted him off the ground. Roarn kicked. His heel struck the giant's thumb. It was like kicking a fence post. Brutus grinned. Then the grin fell. Brutus stared past Roarn's shoulder, up the ridge. His fingers loosened just a hair. "Fast ones," Brutus muttered. "Always the fast ones." A whine rose from the trail behind. The raptor car came over the rise nose-down, boosters screaming. Heat Meat leaned out of the seat and fired the boosters sideways. A blast of hot air hit Brutus in the face. The giant flinched. His grip slipped. Roarn dropped. He hit the rock, rolled, and grabbed the ruined sword out of habit. Useless. He threw it anyway. It bounced off Brutus's shin. "Get on!" Heat Meat yelled. Roarn ran three steps and jumped. He caught the side rail. The car dipped, then climbed. Brutus lunged. His fingertips grazed the booster housing and came back smoking. He roared and shook his hand. They cleared the ridge and dove down the far slope. Roarn hung on with both arms. His costume was torn along one shoulder. His chest ached where the armor had bit in. He had no weapon at all now, not even a bent one. Heat Meat did not slow down. He pointed ahead. Below them, past a stand of pines, the three big dinosaur heads of the Dino Ranger clubhouse rose over the trees. "Ron's home," Heat Meat said. "So. We ask nice. And if he says no, we don't ask nice." Roarn nodded. He was alive. That was all he had.