hurt you.” ]
The giant hesitated, looking in all directions. It was impossible to tell whether he was weighing his options, or instead taking on the air of a trapped beast. If it was the latter, then he was going to be extremely dangerous to approach.
And at that moment, a sound floated through the air from a distance. The sound of police sirens.
It had been the plumbing salesman who had called from his car phone, alerting the police to the “Big Trouble in Little Tencton,” as the newspapers would blare the next day. Naturally it had been the salesman; the Tenctonese population had been more than happy to be left alone.
The reasons for the police arriving, however, were not nearly as important to River, Penn, and Perkins as the fact that they were, indeed, coming. Suddenly their time had run out, and the chase that the giant had led them on was being abruptly terminated.
The giant seemed to make a decision. To the shock of the others, he suddenly knelt and lay the infant down on the sidewalk.
Penn took it as an indication that the giant was surrendering, and started forward.
But Penn had proceeded from a false assumption. The giant had simply resolved that the time had, indeed, finally come to take that long-delayed stand.
His attack was startling in its ferocity, overwhelming in its speed. Penn had gotten within arm’s length, and that was more than enough for the giant. His huge arm snaked out, and for the second time within recent memory, Penn was airborne.
This time the giant’s aim was on target. Penn crashed into River, and the two Newcomers went down in a tangle of arms and legs.
Perkins, for his part, had circled around behind the giant, and he made a desperate grab for the baby. His reasoning for doing so was sound. A frontal assault on the giant would be suicide. If he could get his hands on the infant, he’d have leverage to use against the behemoth. Make him surrender. He was certain that the giant would do anything to avoid injury to the child.
The giant spun and spotted Perkins just before the human got his hands on the infant.
Seeing the child directly threatened in that fashion was more than the giant could take. Cornered and frightened, lashing out at everyone and everything, the giant was pushed over the brink.
His huge fist swung like a club, propelled by the giant’s full weight and full fury.
The last thing Perkins thought as he saw the fist coming was, This is going to hurt. Actually, it didn’t. He died before pain managed to register as his head practically exploded from his shoulders. Blood and gore fountained, splattering the giant’s jumpsuit. Some of it landed on the infant, who was as serene as ever.
River and Penn were on their feet, and watched in morbid fascination as what was left of Perkins crumbled in a heap. Even the giant looked momentarily surprised at the result of his unrestrained strength, and the two smaller Newcomers took that opportunity to charge.
They came in fast from either side, hoping to confuse him. The sirens of the police were getting louder. Penn wrapped himself around the giant’s right arm, but the giant shook him loose and then kicked him in the knee. For a human, a blow to that joint was painful enough. For a Newcomer, it was agonizing. Penn went down, clutching at his knee and moaning.
But River had gotten as close as he needed to, and with a frantic lunge he jammed the syringe into the giant’s thigh.
All he needed was a second to inject the contents. The giant roared, not so much at the syringe—the prick of the needle was insignificant to him—but at the proximity of River. He shoved at River before the Newcomer could shove the plunger home.
River staggered back. The needle still stuck out of the giant’s leg and River took one last shot at it. He charged forward, dodging under the giant’s outstretched arms, and grabbed at the needle in order to send the contents racing through the giant’s system.
The giant stumbled back,