“This is what we trap them in,” says Marcus, pointing at a trailer that looks similar to those that would normally transport horses. “There’s a gear inside that hauls them in. We just need to knock them out first.”
Marcus hitches the trailer onto the back of the van and they get inside. As the garage door rumbles open Marcus thumbs a switch on the dashboard and Helena’s voice comes over the speakers.
“Glad to have you back, Helena,” says Marcus.
“It’s good to be here,” she says back at him and Marcus grins. Jeremy wonders if they’re in love. “You need to head east,” she instructs Marcus as he pulls the van out onto the road. “Cross at the corner of Griswold and Mercy.”
“Who named these streets anyway?” says Marcus as he follows her directions. Jeremy sits and stares out the window, barely listening. The amethapeel canister sits on his lap—it’s the only weapon Marcus gave him.
“Turn left onto Dunleavy,” says Helena.
“I think we found it,” says Marcus as he rounds the corner. The street ahead of them is a jumble of overturned cars. There is a siren blaring and water is pouring out onto the street from a busted fire hydrant. There are several craters in the road and a traffic light that’s been bent out of shape is flashing yellow. The troll itself is nowhere to be seen.
“It’s got to be there somewhere,” says Helena and then Marcus tells her that he’ll switch to in-ear communication because there’s too much junk in the street for him to keep driving.
“Keep your eyes open,” he tells Jeremy, who shifts the canister from hand to hand. Marcus hefts the net-launcher in both hands. From the far end of the street they hear a guttural roar and the sound of screeching metal.
Marcus and Jeremy slide over the hood of a car in the middle of the road and jog towards the roar. At the corner of Dunleavy they turn and spot the troll a little further down the street, holding up a woman in a power suit. One of her high-heels has fallen from her foot. The woman is screaming, but the troll is just looking at her and blinking as though its trying to decide to eat her now or save her for later.
“If it even so much as looks at you, throw that canister,” Marcus tells Jeremy. Then he says: “Wait here,” and strides off towards the troll and its captive.
Jeremy sighs. “Wait here, Jeremy. Don’t move, Jeremy,” he mutters.
Marcus knows that he can’t trap the troll while its holding the woman, so he holds off on the trigger. “Help me!” she calls down to Marcus and the second shoe tumbles from her dangling foot. The troll follows the sound of her voice and widens its eyes in surprise at the sight of Marcus.
“Put her down,” says Marcus, although it’s still a matter of contentious debate whether or not trolls understand English. Then two things happen quite simultaneously—the troll tosses the woman into the air with one hand and swats at Marcus with the other.
The netting-launcher goes off while pointed straight upwards and the net flies free, spreading out like a parachute in the air above Marcus while he steadies his feet and spreads his arms to catch the woman as she falls.
She lands draped over his shoulders and immediately starts hitting him repeatedly on the back and yelling for him to run. A second later the net falls on top of them both, sealing them in a cocoon of unbreakable Yjarj threads.
At the far end of the street, Jeremy watches this all happen. He glances at the canister in his hands and shrugs, placing it gently on the ground between his feet.
“Hey!” He calls to the troll. Then, reaching into his jacket pocket and taking out the cricket ball, he throws it at the troll as hard as he can.