He tentatively reached toward the twitchy dino. "Rufus, calm down," he said, stroking Rufus's left thigh as though he were a skittish stallion. Rufus let go of the statue-though his eyes were still blazing. For just a fleeting moment, Martin was afraid maybe those teeth were about to be turned on him and Audrey. But Rufus actually did start to calm down a bit, or at least, he didn't seem like he was ready to bolt again.

"That's it, good boy."

"Now what?" Audrey said.

Martin looked all around. "If we can...there's a shortcut. We can get back to the garage."

"Okay," Audrey said, though she sounded pretty unsure.

"Come on," Martin said, trying to act like it was all under control.

They had barely gotten to the edge of the park when they spotted something and stopped cold. Just a half block ahead, a dark Lincoln crawled along like a prowling panther, then came to a stop. Martin stood there, paralyzed. He knew whose car it was.

The pa.s.senger door opened, and out stepped a familiar but unwelcome face: Ollie Thwait, the Trout Palace guard. He scowled at them as the driver's-side door opened and a man with a gleaming bald pate got out, throwing them a menacing glare of his own. In one hand, Ben Fairfield had a walkie-talkie. He reached back into the car with the other and pulled out a long, dark object that Martin recognized instantly: another tranquilizing rifle.

Rufus must have recognized it too, because he jerked and grunted testily. Martin's heart rose directly into his throat.

"Ai-yai-yai," Audrey squeaked as Mr. Fairfield raised the walkie-talkie and growled into the mouthpiece, loud and clear.

"Frank."

"Yeah, Ben," said the sheriff's crackly voice at the other end.

"Found 'em. Gage Park, on Chestnut."

"Roger that."

Almost instantly, a siren started wailing in the distance.

Something about the sound set off a voice in Martin's head, telling him they were done and it was time to give up. But as Ben Fairfield slowly lifted the rifle to his shoulder and took aim at Rufus, an even louder voice inside yelled, Stop standing there, you idiot! Get moving!

"This way!" Martin exclaimed, taking off across the street at full tilt. Catching his energy, Audrey and Rufus followed.

Mr. Fairfield and Ollie tore after them, leaving the car sitting in the middle of the street, as Martin led Rufus and Audrey into an alley between two small buildings. They could hear Fairfield barking into the walkie-talkie behind them.

"Cutting across to Green Bay, heading east now. Got it, Frank? Cut 'em off!"

Any thought Martin had of making it back to Mr. Eckhart's garage was now a distant memory. Their only remaining hope was to somehow get out of there without getting caught. Maybe they could make it back to the woods and be safe there.

They came out the other end of the alley and found themselves right where they didn't want to be: on Green Bay Avenue, the busiest street in town.

Leading the way, Martin made a mad dash down the street, and people turned to look. At first they stayed strangely calm, as though what they were watching was some kind of bizarre street theater. When Fairfield and Ollie came barreling out of the alley, even that didn't cause any particular alarm. But when Rufus ran by an orange-haired lady and chomped the leather purse right out of her hand, she let out a h.e.l.lacious shriek!

That was everybody's cue to push the panic b.u.t.ton.

Murmurs turned to screams. Drivers slammed on their brakes, causing three fender benders within seconds. Horns honked chaotically. Little kids screamed and cried as their parents tried to sweep them as far away as possible from this ferocious-looking creature on the loose.

Some people craned their necks to get a better look; others just sprinted right out of there.

Dogs barked up a storm. A guy on a motorcycle twisted his head around to check out Rufus-and took a fast header right into Tom Reavis Memorial Fountain.

Now, on top of everything else, Martin was afraid somebody might really get hurt. He felt like they had all been transported into one of those scary monster-on-the-loose movies, and Rufus was the monster. But Rufus wasn't attacking anyone-all he was doing was running. Martin just wanted to shout, Everybody calm down! Everything's okay!

But for him and Audrey and Rufus, everything was definitely not okay. They felt themselves slowing down, and Ben Fairfield and Ollie, showing remarkable stamina for guys their age, were gaining on them.

A police cruiser, seeming to come out of nowhere, skidded to a halt just ahead of them. Now they were completely cut off. Martin looked all around, desperate for an escape route.

"Through there!" he shouted, pointing to a storefront across the street. He darted between two parked cars and raced across. Audrey and Rufus fell in right behind.

Mr. Fairfield took off after them, followed by Ollie and the officer from the squad car.

"What, through there?" Audrey rasped as they raced toward a row of shops.

"I've been in there. There's a service door in back," Martin said. "We can make it to the woods." He ran right up to the front entrance of the Spotted Otter, a big gift shop that was popular with tourists, and the automated front doors slid open. "Duck, Rufus!"

Rufus lowered his head, and the three of them rushed inside.

The place was packed from wall to wall with mugs, gla.s.s figurines, painted plates, cuckoo clocks, porcelain dolls, and thousands of other delicate knickknacks. So Martin and Audrey had to slow down and be extra careful as they led Rufus through the narrow center aisle, skillfully guiding him between the high shelves of pretty breakables.

"Sorry...sorry," Audrey and Martin muttered as they made their way past the customers, who stood there, rigid and bug-eyed.

Somehow, the three of them made it to the far end of the store without b.u.mping a single item out of place-until, at the very end, the tiniest tip of Rufus's tail caught a little gla.s.s globe, knocking it off a shelf. But as before, Audrey's reflexes were lightning-quick-she stretched out and caught it just before it took a shattering nosedive.

They raced straight past a petrified lady at a rear checkout counter ("Sorry," Martin said sheepishly), barreled into the storage room, and immediately spotted the service door in the back wall. Only one thought ran through Martin's head: Please, please don't be locked!

As he reached for the bar handle, a loud CRASH made them all jump. They looked back through the opening into the main store to see Ben Fairfield, Ollie, and the deputy in a tangled mess in the center aisle. The tranquilizing gun had caught on a post and all three of them had slammed into each other, tumbling against a shelf and sending gla.s.s souvenirs cascading down on them from all sides. The shelf tipped over and started a chain reaction of collapsing shelves and flying gla.s.sware, leaving the hapless customers scrambling to get out of the way.

When the poor lady behind the counter saw what was happening to her store, her jaw sagged, her eyes rolled up-and she dropped straight to the floor.

"Holy mama," Martin muttered.

"She's okay," said Audrey as the lady made it back to her knees. "Keep going, Martin. Go!"

Martin grabbed the bar and pushed-and was hugely relieved when the big door swung open. Maybe, he dared to think as they ran outside, with their pursuers hung up now, they might actually have a chance...?

They ran down a short stretch of alley and came out on Elm Street, which wasn't quite as crowded as Green Bay, but the furor that erupted there was exactly the same.

They hadn't gotten far when the sound of screeching tires startled them. Down toward the end of the block, a pickup truck skidded to a halt, narrowly missing a panicky tourist. The driver and pa.s.senger jumped out, and Martin knew exactly who it was before their feet even hit the ground.

"Martin! Hold up!" Mr. Tinker shouted. He and Mrs. Tinker charged toward them, struggling against the flow of fleeing people.

But Martin did not want to give up, not to his parents, not to anybody. He and his loyal companions turned and ran one more time, heading down still another street as Ben Fairfield and his crew, having extracted themselves from the Spotted Otter, appeared again.

The three fugitives kept on running straight through the heart of Menominee Springs, causing a sensation everywhere they went, and somehow staying ahead of the posse chasing after them. They ran past St. Jude's Church, kept on going past the fancy houses on Chelten Lane, and cut diagonally across Pfister Park.

By the time they were running past Menominee Springs Middle School-where they were supposed to be this morning-their tanks were just about empty.

"Martin," Audrey wheezed, "I can't run anymore. We can't make it. Maybe we better-"

"No!" Martin snapped, although he was every bit as spent as she was. "We have to keep going!" By now any actual plan or expectation of a real escape no longer existed in Martin's brain. They had to keep going because...well, because they just had to.

Sheriff Grimes's squad car came to a stop just a half block ahead, cutting them off yet again. They looked back the way they had come: Mr. Fairfield's gang was bearing down on them. Fast.

There was only one way out, and Martin didn't hesitate. "Through here," he panted, and they scurried through the gate onto the school's athletic field.

As they chugged across the field, lungs aflame, feet heavy as anvils, Martin's mind started to drift. Time seemed to wind down to a crawl, and he felt like he was running in slow motion through empty s.p.a.ce. The only sounds he could hear were his own labored breathing and throbbing heartbeat. How did it come to this? I'm just a regular kid, trying to help a defenseless animal. Why is everybody treating us like criminals?

He thought of the seventh-grade cla.s.sroom across the way, where right now Mrs. Sanders was probably quizzing the cla.s.s on math or geography or grammar, with empty chairs where he and Audrey would normally be. Did anybody realize they weren't there? Did they even care? Didn't they know how important it was to save Rufus from a terrible life under the thumb of Ben Fairfield?

Martin's eyes drifted over to the school building and fixed on the row of open cla.s.sroom windows. Was that Donald Grimes pointing at them through the window, jumping up and down and shouting something to the rest of the cla.s.s?

"Get away from us! We're just trying to help him! Go away!"

Wait a minute. It was Donald, all right, but it wasn't his voice.

Snapping out of his dreamy state, Martin realized the voice was Audrey's, and she was shouting at Ben Fairfield's gang and the police officers who were now right on top of them.

The three of them had made it to the far end of the field, but they came to a skidding stop in a corner of a high, unforgiving chain-link fence. The gate Martin had been hoping to fly through was locked tight. They were trapped. No place left to run.

Fairfield and his men quickly surrounded them, and Ben raised his dart rifle. Sheriff Grimes had one too, and he struggled to load in a cartridge.

Rufus seemed to know what was coming, and he danced and growled menacingly.

"All right, you kids," Mr. Fairfield wheezed, "you had your fun. Now get away from the animal."

"You can't have him!" Martin yelled as he and Audrey shuffled back and forth to keep themselves between Rufus and the gun.

"He's my property. Legally bought and paid for. Now step out of there."

"We're not moving!" Audrey snapped.

Mr. Fairfield tried to follow Rufus's movements with the rifle, but he couldn't get off a shot without risking hitting one of his human protectors.

Now Martin's mom and dad caught up with the group and rushed straight at the cornered trio.

"Martin, what in the b.l.o.o.d.y blazes are you doing?" Mr. Tinker hollered.

Rufus let out a growl and went into a menacing crouch, causing them to quickly back away and take a safer spot behind Mr. Fairfield.

"Martin, you come away from there," Mrs. Tinker commanded. "Right now, I mean it!"

Martin felt a burning sensation in his throat that spread all the way up to his forehead. "I can't, Mom. I can't!"

His dad looked like he might explode at any second. "What do you mean you can't? You heard your mother. Get over here!"

"Look," Sheriff Grimes interjected, "just come out of there like your folks are saying, and this'll be over in a flash."

"You're not shooting him," Martin fired back, his jaw firmly set. "You'll have to shoot us first!"

"Yeah!" Audrey shouted.

"Take it down a notch, will you?" Mr. Fairfield scolded. "It's just a tranquilizing dart."

"Ben!" Mrs. Tinker snapped. "Don't you dare shoot with them there!"

"I've got this, Ann," Fairfield said, still trying to get a good aim. "You need to stay out of it."

"Really, Ben? I'm thinking you need to stay out of it."

There was a commotion across the field, and everybody looked over to see a mob of middle-schoolers running toward them. Martin and Audrey recognized them immediately: their seventh-grade cla.s.smates. They were completely ignoring Mrs. Sanders, who was chasing after them with a look of utter horror on her face.

"No, no, no! We cannot come out here! Everybody back inside, now! Michael! Hannah, no! Oh, dear lord..."

"Whoa, hold on there!" the sheriff shouted, suddenly awakened to the situation. "You kids stay back. Back!" He and his men did their best to herd the group away from Rufus, and it turned out he didn't need much help: Rufus suddenly hissed and snapped at the approaching mob, sending everybody into a quick about-face. Some screams and yips flew out of the crowd, and Martin threw his arm in front of Rufus. "Shhh, shhh, shhh, steady..."

The kids didn't retreat far; they turned right back around again, pressing against the thin line of policemen's arms holding them back.

In the middle of the pack, Donald Grimes jumped up and down, pointing furiously at Rufus. "There, see what I mean? I'm not crazy! I told you! I told you!"

Mrs. Sanders turned around and raced back toward the building, struggling to make headway in her high heels. "Mr. Clayborne! Mr. Clayborne!"

"Hey, Martin," Max Mitch.e.l.l called out. "Is that really a dinosaur?"

"Where'd you guys get that?" said Alyssa Belden.

"Does he bite?" said Michael Tripp.

"No. Well..." Martin felt a bit thrown by the sudden burst of attention from his cla.s.smates. It felt really odd having all those eyes zeroed in on him, and it was distracting him from protecting Rufus. Trying to focus, he kept shuffling back and forth with Audrey to block Ben Fairfield's aim. They jumped up and down too, waving their arms.

"Frank," Ben said impatiently to Sheriff Grimes, "are you gonna get those two out of there, or what?"

The sheriff looked lost, and so did his deputies. He didn't have a good angle to shoot from either, and obviously had no desire to get any closer to Rufus. Finally, he took a halfhearted step forward.

"He's in a really bad mood," Martin warned.

"Yeah. And hungry," Audrey said.

That stopped the sheriff cold. The seventh graders chuckled edgily, but it turned to worried murmurs as he put down his tranquilizing gun and reached for his revolver.

"No, you're not doing that!" Mr. Fairfield snapped.

"Whoa, whoa, whoa!" Mr. Tinker shouted at the same time.

"Frank, no!" Mrs. Tinker yelled.

"Well, what the heck do you expect me-"

"Ah, for crying out loud!" Ben barked. "You guys do it."