BEYOND THE LOOKING-GLASS: Book One in the BEYOND Series by Gordon Rothwell Page B

body. She pulled him to his feet.
    “Let’s get the hell out of here, Kel. This show’s been fun. But we’re not sticking around for the final act.”
    Hand-in-hand, they fled back into the forest.
     
    ~*~

TWELVE
     
    Anton and Nikki stood at the center of the scorched and smoky clearing. The huge corpse of a dragon lay on its back with its claws in the air. Its massive tail had been severed and lay twitching in the grass nearby. A few feet from the fallen Jabberwock, a battered giant’s crimson-laced body was face down in a puddle of blood.
    An oddly-assorted group sat at a damaged table, shivering and sobbing. Nikki stared at a little man with a battered top hat, a big rabbit with quivering pink ears, and a small mouse that constantly twitched its whiskers. The trio clung to one other like survivors of a torpedoed vessel. And their mournful cries rang out through the damp forest air.
    “Looks like this party’s over,” Nikki remarked, as she surveyed the smoldering wreckage. She watched with fascination as a soldier, holding his own head under his arm, ran around in circles in the grass. And an ugly troll, apparently in shock, sat on the blackened earth tossing his three heads back and forth in dismay.
    Anton took in the scene with his cold blue eyes. He showed no emotion about the devastation he was witnessing. “There’s nothing we can do here. We have to push on.”
    Nikki nodded in agreement. They walked through the ashes, causing tiny puffs of grey smoke to rise into the air. In a few moments, they were swallowed up by the dense forest at the edge of the clearing.
    As they proceeded through the woods, Anton noticed the vegetation was noticeably different now. The brush was fast becoming more jungle-like. They stumbled and scrambled over foul-smelling muddy patches and through tangled vines.
    After an hour of hard going, they reached a river. The swollen water was crammed with floating twigs and debris as it surged downstream.
    Anton stopped at the river’s bank and reached inside his tunic. He pulled out the chip tracker.
    “I thought you dumped that in the bushes way back there,” Nikki said, surprised.
    Anton stared down at the device. “I thought better of it once I regained my senses. I’ve gotten it to work again.”
    Nikki grinned. “Great! Which way, boss?”
    He pointed. “I’m getting a signal. Faint, but distinct. North down this river.”
    The slippery mud and undergrowth along the river bank hampered their progress. They were sweating and panting after they’d gone only a few hundred yards along the bank. Nikki grabbed Anton by the sleeve.
    “Look up ahead. There’s a raft moored there.”
    They cautiously approached the crude raft. Nikki pulled her weapon, but Anton motioned for her to hold her fire. The next moment, a young freckle-faced boy in bib overalls and a tattered straw hat jumped out of the bushes. Anton smiled at the boy and walked toward him.
    “Is this fine raft yours, boy?” he asked.
“Yes, sir. It is.”
    “What is your name, lad?”
    “Huckleberry Finn. But most folks round here jest calls me Huck.”
    “You alone?”
    “There’s only me. And Jim.”
    A wide-eyed black man in ragged clothing stepped from hiding in the underbrush. He was trembling and fear contorted his face.
    “Please, mister,” Huck pleaded. “Don’t take Jim back there. He’s not meant to be no slave. And any law what sez he should be is not human.”
    Nikki re-holstered her weapon and stared at Anton to see what his next move would be. But she also kept glancing at Jim to make sure he didn’t try anything funny.
    “We’re the law, Huck,” Anton replied. “But not the kind you think. We mean you and Jim no harm.”
    “Gee, thanks, sir.”
    “But,” he added, “my partner and I are going to have to commandeer your raft. We need it for official police business.”
    Huck looked puzzled. He glanced over at the black man. “Gosh, mister. How will me and old Jim escape the sheriff