The screaming came in from the north, like the scream of a jet plane at take-off or the sound of an animal caught in fear. The kids ducked down behind the boards, and Omega leaped over a pile of rubble to protect Larry, who was staring at the sound, gaping in unbelief.
Riding in on the long light of lightning in black clouds were the black wolf and the snapping turtle. They are different again though, enlarged to the size of black wishes and naughty thoughts that can take over a very good brain. The wolf and the turtle were sniffing, peering, listening, the kids figured, after them. They froze in place. Omega put his hand over Larry's mouth, because Larry was wanting to call the play-by-play, really loud and really fast. He had to be quiet, and that was the thing he could not do. He was just too scared.
Then the shape-shifters shape-shifted once again. There was a horrendous, walloping bang, as the lightning hit the dirt beside the kids, and the thunder was instantaneously booming. Their ears hurt.
Their eyes were burning. Their throats were dry and they couldn't speak.
The wolf and the turtle grew larger by the milli-second and took over the entire sky; then, then, they enlarged themselves again, and became a thrashing, raving bear who with cool intent, threatened to eat them alive. The turtle became a shark, a ravenous, eager eater of living things.
Then they vanished, in the poof of a moment. It was quiet as a tomb.
"They'll be back," John-John said.
"They were smaller at the bon fire," said Larry. "That's what chased me away. I was scared in six directions at once."
"For good reason," Omega said. "Your instincts were right, and profoundly right. We need to find a way to release the good guys that got caught by bad things, and send the bad things packing."
"Somewhere they can do no harm," Petey said. "And we can get home safe."