By me, with art by Sam Messerly.
Click here to read from the beginning.
I heard Colander scream, and the triceratops and Warbell both paused. Suddenly a green fireball hit the trike straight in the face, streams of fire spiraling off the big beasty’s frill. The enormous herbivore gaped as the paralyzing effects took hold and collapsed on the spot. Warbell turned around, the green fires that had been clinging to his body beginning to slide off with a series of crackles and pops.
I finally dared to look back at the truck, and though for a moment I had hoped to see Furbud with a nose cannon, instead the massive hulking figure of the oversized tyrannosaurus from the city came into view. Both shoulder cannons were out and activated, but one had drastically changed shape, with a thicker neck and nozzle. It was swiveling around automatically, spraying bubbly foam and putting out fires.
Colander tried to raise the potato-cannon, but the enormous rex batted it out of her hands with its snout. I heard the cannon tumble and crash into the brush at the side of the road. The rex snapped at Colander, and if she hadn’t ducked just in time, the attack would have cut her in half.
Warbell stood staring at the much larger tyrannosaurus and a great weariness seemed to take over his body. All the pain that must have been plaguing his bones and muscles seemed to hit him at once, and his posture slumped. He let out a low groan.
The enormous tyrannosaurus said something in dinosaurian which I couldn’t understand. It sounded very angry, full of hisses and shuddering growls. Warbell shook his head, replying with a quieter series of grunts and rumbles. The larger tyrannosaurus replied again, getting louder still, stomping towards the old lizard.
Warbell stood his ground, and the larger dinosaur rammed its head into the old lizard’s side. Warbell stumbled back several steps, but did not fall. The larger rex continued its tirade, its voice rising to a shrieking rage. But Warbell kept shaking his head.
I started edging my way back to the truck. Colander was getting her potato cannon out of the ditch. She was wearing her belt of grenades, but didn’t look very optimistic about the effectiveness of her set of weaponry.
Just fight,” I said, but the words turned to mothballs in my mouth. “Fight back!”
“I have tear gas,” said Colander. “Maybe that would make everyone cry really hard at least. That’s what I feel like doing.”
“Whatever you shoot is just going to hit them both,” I said.
I looked back at the two rexes. The larger one was snapping at Warbell, butting the smaller rex again with his head, shrieking and roaring. I yanked open the door to my truck and pulled out my rifle. I checked the bullets, my hands shaking, cocked the thing, then carefully raised the sights.
Warbell saw me, and he came to life. He dodged another attack from the larger tyrannosaur and took a step in my direction.
“No!” he yelled in English. “Don’t shoot her!”