7. The Trouble With Boots.

In an attempt to stifle the scream that erupted from her throat, Kayla bit her lip and covered her mouth with her hand as she slid on her arse down the steep ravine. She eventually came to a stop when her feet became tangled in some tree roots.

"Con? …Connor are you okay?"

"What the fuck do you think?" he moaned, dragging a hand down his wet face. He stood and waded his way out of the river to stand on the bank and glare at her. "How many times must I tell you to be specific?"

"Sorry, but at least it worked."

"Yeah, we lost the police but take a look around Kayla." He waited a moment for their situation to sink in. "We're the ones that are lost."

Standing to brush the dirt from her jeans, Kayla shrugged, "We'll follow the river. There are always towns on or around a river."

"Whatever," he muttered, "Lead the way."

Kayla chuckled at the squelch and slop of Connor's footsteps behind her, "I am sorry Con," she apologised as he ran to catch up to her and slipped his hand in hers.

 They walked for maybe half an hour before they came across the first sign of civilisation. A basket-fronted bicycle, seemingly abandoned, sat in the middle of a small, narrow, wooden bridge. Kayla ran ahead and scanned the area. When she saw no one, she pushed the bike to Connor, picked him up, and put him in the basket.

"You've resorted to stealing a bike now?" he asked incredulously.

"We're borrowing it. I'll take it back as soon as we find the car."

A deep rumble sounded from somewhere near the bridge, the wooden boards shook and rattled with the intensity of the sound.

Kayla looked at Connor, dread evident on her face. "Uh-oh, please tell me that's not what I think it is?"

"It's a troll! Get us the fuck out of here!"

Like a serpent, the trolls arm snaked its way out from beneath the bridge and snatched the rear wheel of the bike, holding it in a vice-like grip as they struggled to dismount. The rim buckled and the tyre popped as the pressure of its grip increased.

The wicker of the basket pieced Connor's trouser leg and held him captive as the bike toppled over and was dragged along the bridge, him on his back struggling to free himself from the twisted, woven twigs.

"Take them off!" Kayla yelled grabbing him under his flailing arms.

He reached down and released the buckle of his belt, and then the buttons of the trouser fly. Kicking his legs, he tried to get them off but his boots held them fast. They were losing the tug of war, the bike slowly edging its way closer to the side of the bridge and the waiting troll.

It reared its ugly head and grinned at them, showing off its sharp, rotten, yellow teeth. Using a second hand now to pull the bike closer, it gained more advantage.

"Do something Kayla!" Connor pleaded, certain of his imminent death.

She let go.