“You’re outnumbered.” The pit bull smirked. “You wanna rethink my generous offer?”
“Maybe,” Trent murmured, eyes flickering as he looked around for any other sources of attack. “I mean, the oddsarepretty stacked against us right now.”
“You got that right.” Pit Bull’s smirk grew wider. Trent was having trouble placing his accent – it seemed to be a little bit of everything. “You should make this easy on yourself. Hand her over – nothing has to happen to you.”
“Mmm. I see, I see.” Trent nodded. Of course, he knewthatwas a lie. Even if they didn’t know who he actually was, there was no way they’d leave a loose end like that lying around, no matter who they worked for. “I guess you’re right.”
Maybe they were more desperate to haul Zina in than it seemed, because his words were all it took for Pit Bull’s eyes to dart over to Zina, his attention momentarily off Trent. But it was the moment Trent had been waiting for.
The momentary lapse in concentration, the slight relaxation in the hunched muscle of his shoulders was all he needed.
Now!
Leaning back as far as he dared, Trent raised his leg and then shot it forward, planting his foot squarely in the center of Pit Bull’s chest, sending him flailing over the side of his paddleboat and into the dark water of the river. It took a lot of effort – the man was built, well, like a pit bull – but by drawing on his kangaroo’s strength, Trent managed it.
“PADDLE!” Trent yelled, slamming back down into his seat and shoving his feet onto the pedals. Zina paddled – and the boat slowly began to pull away, the water on either side of them churning furiously.
Trent didn’t have time to look back – he knew this was their only chance to get away before the other men closed in on them. Hopefully if they’d all gathered here, he and Zina would be able to escape and find somewhere to lay low in the city, before figuring out where to go from here.
“They’re gaining on us.”
Trent glanced across at Zina to find her looking over her shoulder, watching the paddleboats that were now chasing them down the river.
“And it seems like they already fished out that guy you kicked. He doesn’t look too happy.”
“Well, with any luck he’ll be down with a nasty case of giardia,” Trent said as he turned back to face forward. They’d need to start making themselves scarce, and soon.
"Wait – there’s giardia in this water?!” Zina demanded, clutching her hand back a little closer to her chest, and staring in horror at the splashes that were rising up either side of them. “What the hell?!”
“Hey, you told me you were from New York, and I read somewhere that there’s gonorrhea in the Gowanus Canal,” Trent shot back.
“No one goes paddleboating in the Gowanus Canal!”
“Well, regardless, it was just a joke. There isprobablyno giardia in this river,” Trent said. “And if the blue-green algae levels had been too high, they wouldn’t have let us come out.”
“Well, that’s very reassuring, thanks,” Zina said, with what Trent thought was some pretty unwarranted sarcasm.
Still, at least it got the tension out: Trent knew his tendency to talk during times of trouble annoyed some people – well,mostpeople – but he personally found it helped him keep a clear head, so he could spot an opportunity when one was needed.
And one is definitely needed now.
The men, grim-faced in their watercraft, were paddling nearer and nearer by the second. They’d have Trent and Zina encircled in a moment – since, for all his confusion about whether she was a shifter or not, Zina’s staminawasflagging now. They wouldn’t be able to keep this up for long.
Can’t head towards the shore – they’ve got us cut off already,Trent thought, glancing around.Can’t head back the way we came.Trent took a deep breath.Think, c’mon,think. There is no way you and your mate are about to get caught by some guys on paddleboats.
As he’d been desperately putting his rational mind to work, Trent’s kangaroo had been scrabbling at the back of his mind, trying to get him to listen to it.
You aren’t paying attention to me!You aren’t using your instincts!
It seemed, finally, that the kangaroo had had enough of being ignored, and it burst with an almighty leap into his conscious mind, demanding he pay attention to it.
All at once, Trent found himself immersed in a world not of thought, but sounds and smells, sense and instinct – the way he was when he was in his shifted form, and at times like now, when the kangaroo wrested control away from his human side andforcedhim to listen to it. It was a strong-willed, aggressive animal, after all, and it didnotlike being ignored.
That was when Trent heard it – the sound he hadn’t consciously been registering, but which had slowly been getting louder and louder over the past couple of minutes. It was the slow, steady chug of an engine.
A boat engine,Trent realized.
Twisting in his seat, he already knew what he’d see when he turned: the Popeye.
