Still running, Lancaster pulls out his hand communicator and calls to Little Jack. Out of breath, he explains what's going on.
"Slow down and use your words!" Little Jack scolds. "I can't understand you when you're running."
"Can't," Lancaster puffs. Chased. Pick up on my signal."
Lancaster can almost hear Little Jack roll his eyes. It's a hard place to land, sure, but maybe he can fly overhead and drop something down for him, or maybe the engines will scare the monkey-dogs away.
Neither do. The sound of Little Jack's engines fly close, but not directly overhead. As Lancaster continues to maneuver, Little Jack's ship flies again overhead, then again. Lancaster realizes suddenly that Little Jack can't find him.
Looking up, Lancaster doesn't see his footing, and he trips over a root. The monkey-dogs are immediately on him, their razor-sharp teeth and claws, ripping at him. He flails his limbs, pushing them off, but that simply gives them something more to chew on. Lancaster suddenly gets the feeling of being stretched in every direction. He hears something crack, one of his ribs. He can hardly believe this is really happening to him.
And it's his last thought. Each of his four limbs is pulled in a different direction, leaving the torso torn to shreds in the middle, and it's devoured as quickly as possible.
THE END
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