I watched as the others filed after the first and they regrouped—just a gaggle of heads and tails—then glanced at it myself. “Forget it. It’s got a canvas roof— remember?”
“With steel ribs, though.”
“Yeah, but—we’d be stuck. There’s no key.”
And then they were coming, not in a gaggle but in a staggered formation, bounding forward but in turns, running and pausing, as we turned and flat-out bolted—sprinting for the ferry as the sun shone hot and merciless and without compassion; veering for the island shuttle once we realized we’d never make it, piling through its driver’s door and slamming it behind us as the raptors fell upon the vehicle like a threshing machine and began climbing and tearing at its canopy.
“Wait, don’t—”
My ears rung as she started firing, blindly, into the animals,
