Chapter 10: Pitch

The metal plate of the catwalk clanked and hummed under their panicked feet. Jovie's constant pull on Em's arm both kept the shorter girl perpetually stumbling and kept her from falling as they raced to the end of the catwalk and plunged down the stairs.

But when they reached the bottom, the tugging ceased; Jovie stuttered to a stop. What had seemed a mostly-straight run from the office windows looked very different from the bakery floor. Machinery loomed like great armored beasts in a thicket of strewn parts.

A muffled Crack! sounded from behind them; Em saw Jovie cringe. They both knew it was a gunshot.

"This way!" Jovie pointed between two machines.
"Wait!" Em said. The big cauldron-looking thing to the right -- the axe was just on the other side of it, wasn't it? "We can get the axe!"

She pulled free of Jovie's grip. This was what she'd come for. It was too important to just abandon. And it was just around the corner...

... beyond a group of elves.

Em ran right into one. She screamed as she pushed off, sending the thing tumbling. But there were three or four more just a few feet away. They turned around, their eyeless mouthless faces wrinkling. Somehow they looked ... angry.

Emmeline didn't have time to wonder where the hell they'd come from -- she turned and ran back the way she came.

Jovie was only a few steps from where Em had left her. "Run!" Em shouted. Jovie must have seen the fear in Em's eyes; she spun around and sprang ahead, juking past a machine's protruding appendage, then running alongside it. It seemed like the machine went on forever, but just a few yards ahead there was a break, and Jovie dove through it. Em followed.

The space between machines was like a dark alley; Em had to duck slightly under a metal cover. The space was claustraphobic; the machines on either side seemed poised to slam together and crush her.

She screamed and jerked back when she felt something touch her shoulder; a heavy glove slid off a metal tray and fell at her feet. She'd thought an elf had somehow been waiting for her inside the machines. She kicked the glove angrily, watching it flop out of the gap onto the floor ahead of her.

Finally, she was through to the other side. She turned around to see the first elf just stepping into the gap's entrance.

Jovie was standing in front of a row of boxes -- wait, Em recognized them; this was the wall of cardboard boxes she'd seen from above. She remembered a break at the end, next to the wall of the building. It should be a clear shot from there to the back door...

Jovie was digging through her bag. What for?
Em tugged her elbow. "Come on!"
But Jovie shrugged it off.
"They're coming!" Em said urgently.

"Gimme the lighter," Jovie said, extending one hand; the other continued plumbing the bag's depths...
"Wha... ?"

"Lighter!" Jovie shouted. She suddenly stepped forward into the gap, screaming as she unwound a mighty kick...

... and an elf fell forward out of the gap, face-planting on the hard concrete floor.

It immediately began wriggling to get up; Jovie planted the sole of her boot on its head and leaned forward.

Em dug out the lighter and slapped it in Jovie's open palm. She could see the shifting shadows of more elves approaching...

Jovie stepped back. The elf leaped to its feet, arms out wide for a tackle even before it had straightened up...

Jovie shrugged the bag off her shoulder; her hand was unsheathed to reveal a metal cylinder about the size of a water bottle. Jovie raised the thing in front of her, and whacked the top of it with her other hand; there was a plastic popping sound, and something flew off and clattered to the floor. The elf's head seemed to pivot to follow the thing, then swung back toward the tall girl. Jovie brandished the lighter.

Flick-snick-flame-tss-WHAMFFFFF! A jet of flame engulfed the elf's head; its hands went up as if to put it out, only to catch fire themselves; another instant and the flames had raced all the way down to the floor. It seemed to be dancing an angry jig. Jovie lowered her makeshift flamethrower long enough to raise a boot and shove the flaming elf hard in the chest. It stiffened and fell over backwards, partially blocking the gap.

Another elf nonetheless appeared, hesitating as it seemed to look for a way around its burning companion. Jovie wasn't taking any chances -- she stepped to one side of the quickly-charring elf-corpse and flick-snick-WHAMFFF! -- there was a bright smoky flash, flames shot up above the equipment, and Em knew another elf was toast.

Jovie backed away, looking at the crusty glowing remains of the first downed elf. "I thought the kick would put him down longer ... I guess they don't have balls."

"Come on, before they find another way through." The wall of boxes got higher as they approached the end, now five boxes high; Em could just barely see over them. At the end of the row, Em stepped out first; there was the exit, maybe thirty yards away. She hoped the door wasn't locked...

The door opened.
And a short stocky silhouette stood haloed by bright floodlights beyond.

An elf stepped into the pale green light of the bakery.
Followed by another.
Two more stood behind them.

Em stopped dead in her tracks.

Jovie strode past Em, raising lighter and hairspray. "Come on, Em. We can take 'em."

But when two more, and three more, and two more elves pushed their way through the door, Jovie stopped. And started backpedalling.

One by one, the elves' heads pivoted to fix on Emmeline.

But these elves didn't seem so aggressive. They just stood there, cocking their heads to one side or the other, as if trying to understand what they were seeing.

"Em!" Jovie shouted.

Em shook her head clear; she joined Jovie in a hasty retreat behind the box wall. Em knocked one of the boxes over rounding the corner, losing her balance and falling on it. She looked up; Jovie stood over her, flamethrower at the ready, her head whipping back and forth.

Em picked herself up. The elves were fanning out, cutting off any chance of the girls getting to the door at the other end.

She expected them to attack, but they didn't. And that scared Em even more.
It meant they weren't just mindless sugar-zombies. They understood.
They understood that Em was trying to escape, and that they were all that stopped her. They understood that she had a weapon, and they understood its range. They understood that they only needed to wait for their comrades to overwhelm her.
They understood that it was only a matter of time.

The door slammed shut.
The elves surged forward.
Alex stepped into his swing.

The first impact made a gritty crunching sound. From the feel of it, Alex thought he'd broken the bat, but the misshapen chunk that slapped against the window blinds was too big for that.
And the elf in front of Alex had no head.
Alex regained his balance and gave the elf-body a quick hip-check; it fell over, writhing on the floor.

Another elf lunged for his legs; Alex deftly sidestepped and brought the bat down one-handed against its back; the vibration through the timber nearly made him drop it, but he held on. The elf lurched and lost its footing.

Alex brought the bat back up and took another vicious swing, this time connecting with two elves' shoulders. It sent the pair careening sideways toward the windows, but Alex didn't have time to watch the result -- at least two more elves had ducked in beneath his swing and were wrapping themselves around his torso. They actually helped keep him from losing his balance; he was able to lean into them, straighten up quickly, and bring around a left-handed swing into the back of an elf's head, sending it crashing to the floor.

Alex looked to his right. Chester had a bat of his own -- he'd grabbed one of the creatures by the arm and was swinging it around in a circle, thumping one elf up against an office wall, then another through an office doorway, and pancaking a third. Each impact slowed his swing, but he just grunted and pulled harder. He'd gone a full 360 and then some before a knot of elves proved too thick. Three or four quickly jumped him from behind. Chester staggered but kept his feet, driving himself backwards, toward the center of the room and the broken-down desk. He body-slammed his attackers into the high side; they squirmed and fell away.

But not all of the elves were trying to bring the pair down; some were just trying to get around them and reach the door where Jovie and Em had escaped. "Chester, the door!" Alex shouted. Three elves had squirted between Alex and the desk and had a clear shot to the door. Alex was wrapped up by a growing cluster of the sandy-fleshed monsters -- he couldn't pursue. Chester was closer, and he was free of unwanted riders...

Two more of the gray-skinned things had end-run Chester, and were hurrying to join their companions in the chase for the girls. Chester wheeled around, lowered his shoulder, and charged right at them like a linebacker, throwing a vicious elbow at the first one and driving it into the second, sending both bouncing into an office. Chester's momentum was slowed enough by the impact that he avoided slamming into the office wall, instead planting his hand and pushing off, angling toward the three lead runners.

Alex spun around the other way to see the door, zinging the bat around for another unaimed swipe at any would-be attackers, but the weapon found nothing but air.

The first of the elves to reach the door already had its ugly gnarled hands on the doorknob, and the next two were already pushing against the door...

Alex heard a deafening Crack! -- a sound so loud he felt it smack his ear, leaving a vacuum of silence in its wake. The backside of the first elf seemed to ripple and shudder; the door in front of the creature got suddenly darker. Another Crack! wrinkled the air; the elf's shoulders sagged around a weird depression in the small of its back, and its head lolled forward and then seemed to sink straight down into its chest. The elf fell against the door and seemed to collapse in place, until the shoulders settled onto the hips. One leg twitched, but it was otherwise still.

Another elf came in from the right, reaching for the doorknob; another Crack! sounded, and it jerked suddenly sideways, a chunk of its side splattering the wall with a brackish goo. Its hands fell as it sagged against the wall, but after a moment's pause it straightened up and reached for the knob again. The next Crack! saw the side of its head spit a viscous mess on the window. Its hands fumbled for the knob, but couldn't seem to find it.

The two elves that had been pushing against the door straightened up in unison. One of them leaned into its collapsed comrade and shoved it clear of the door; the other stepped back and reached over the first one's head for the doorknob...

But this was the last that Alex saw of their attempts. He felt the sandpaper grip of an elf grapple his bicep and yank down, unwinding him. Alex twisted and dropped his shoulder to try to break free, letting go of the bat with that hand. The attacker began to slide off, twisting Alex's coat around. Alex felt more hands around his shoulders, grabbing at his coat, trying to pull him down; they were getting heavy...

Alex lost count of Chester's shots; he wasn't even sure if he was still hearing new shots or ringing echoes. He fell to one knee under the strain of the elf-pile, and they had a hold of his other arm now, but somehow he managed to keep it held high. He knew if he let go of the bat he was lost; if he could somehow keep them from getting it...

He felt something grab the bat -- no! -- but then he felt it lifting up; it had to be Chester, the elves weren't that tall. The elves around his legs went slack one by one as shot after shot rang out; Alex hauled himself back to both feet, throwing his shoulders back, reaching around his torso, tearing at the vile things' sandy little arms. Alex felt Chester lean against him; he too wore a multiple-elf backpack, but they were both still standing. Chester had stopped shooting, but he pressed the barrel against a loose elf's head and Alex heard and smelled a sizzle before the thing caught fire. Alex thought for a moment that they would all go up in a final blaze, but the burning elf staggered away from them, out of the line of sight.

"To your right on three," Chester huffed. Alex wasn't sure what he meant. "One, two, three!" Chester leaned hard to the side, so Alex did the same. The cluster of men and monsters shifted; Alex felt it begin to pivot -- Chester was trying to go somewhere. Alex leaned into it, driving with his legs, and the pack started moving, picking up speed until they were nearly running...

... and then KaWhump! slammed into a wall. Elf-grips slackened for just a moment, but it was enough. The group broke apart, Alex and Chester each twisting and leaning back hard into the wall. Alex felt his riders slide off him as the window blinds fell down on him; he staggered forward to get clear of them. One elf still had itself wrapped around his waist, but Alex just jammed the bat down between them and pried the thing loose, then raised his foot and kick-stomped it in the head; it went flying back and splatted against the edge of the desk, bent in a way that people didn't bend.

Alex looked to Chester; he was free of his attackers as well, at least for the moment. One reached up from the floor only to have Chester step on its neck; its hands wrapped the man's ankle. Chester looked around, and motioned toward the door. "While we still can!" he yelled. Alex quickly stepped around him, while Chester ejected his clip and pulled another one out of his pants pocket. "Last one!" He leaned down and plugged the ankle-grabber right in the face; its head seemed to flatten, and what looked like motor oil squirted out like a halo in a Middle Ages church painting; its grip slackened and Chester kicked himself free.

Alex was first out the door. He gave a swift kick in the chest to the nearest elf, sending it somersaulting backwards down the catwalk, and swung the bat around one-handed to stun the elf unfortunate enough to be standing to his right. Chester was right behind Alex, backing his way out of the room, squeezing off rounds in pairs.

There were several elves down the length of the catwalk, though they appeared to be in disagreement over which way to go -- some were moving toward the stairs, others were coming up the stairs to meet them. Alex doubted the confusion would last long. They could hardly go back the way they came -- Chester would be out of ammo in a few seconds, and then it was just a matter of how quickly the little fuckers could get through the doorway.

That left ... jumping.

Alex looked over the catwalk rail. There was a group of eight or ten pipes running in parallel horizontally just a few feet out and a few feet down from the catwalk. Beyond them was the stainless-steel top of a round cauldron-thing. It beat just standing here...

Chester looked over his shoulder and saw where Alex was looking. "Go!" he shouted.

Alex slipped under the rail, took a deep breath, and jumped.

He hit the pipes hard -- they rang like bells, but they held. Momentum pushed Alex into a controlled fall from the pipes to the piece of equipment just beyond and below it; the top crinkled like a cookie sheet. Alex looked up and saw Chester at the edge of the catwalk, ready to jump; Alex rolled clear, and heard another clang and another crinkle, and Chester lay next to him.

Alex hurt all over, but he knew they only had seconds before the elves figured it out. He rolled over and peered over the edge of ... whatever they were on. It was only another five feet or so to the bakery floor, with a sturdy handle just over the edge. Alex lowered himself over the side and felt his feet touch the floor. Chester followed a moment later.

They looked around to get their bearings.

To their far right was the row of mixers. Past them and right again would be the door to the front lobby. Straight ahead was a tangled mass of disheveled machinery -- it hadn't looked this bad from upstairs. Off to the left somewhere, the girls were hopefully reaching the exit.

Hopefully wasn't good enough for Alex.

The trouble was there were at least a dozen candy-coated nasties between them and where the girls should be. So they'd have to take the long way around...

"Hey, look what I found."

Chester was kneeling several feet away, in the middle of an open space.
The axe lay at his feet.

So things were fucked, but they weren't completely fucked.
They had the axe. Now all they had to do was get out alive, and make sure that Em and Jovie had done the same.

Em slid down against the boxes; it seemed hopeless. They were surrounded. And all they had to defend themselves was a can of hairspray and...

Premium Macaroons.

The brightly-colored package peeked out from the crinkled cardboard box she'd fallen on. Mom's psycho-happy face beamed joy and intimidation. The coconut cookies looked like snowballs, pale white against a pink-hued background, surrounded by confetti. A disembodied hand was reaching for one of the snowball-cookies; it made them look huge, like the size of a baseball. Surely it was a child's hand? No ... The cookies weren't really that big, were they? No wonder Mom was out of business.

The cookies on the package seemed to glisten. Em wondered if they were sticky. She'd never actually had a macaroon, not the real bakery kind. When Em was little she'd seen them in a magazine at the doctor's office, and for weeks she wouldn't shut up about "the snowball cookies." Her mom had tried to make them a couple of times, but the coconut always burned...

"Em, what are we gonna do?" Jovie's voice trembled.

They were going to burn cookies.

Emmeline yanked out a package of cookies. "Open these," she said. She got up, looking down the long row of boxes. Where'd that ... there it was. "I'll be right back."

Em dashed down the wall, back to the gap between machines where Jovie had barbecued a pair of elves and effectively blocked others from reaching them.

There it was ... the glove. Emmeline grabbed it. She started to head back toward Jovie, but stopped. She reached into the gap, feeling the heat of the still-burning elves, and pulled out the chunk of sheet metal.

"Can't make cookies without a cookie sheet."

Em ran back down the row of boxes; Jovie was looking at her like she was insane. "What the hell are we gonna do with that?"

Em dropped the tray on the floor. "We can use that as a shield." It just seemed that it would come in handy somehow.
"I told you I don't have enough hairspray to get through all of them."
Em saw that Jovie hadn't opened the cookies; she leaned down and snatched up a package, tearing it open with her teeth and spilling its contents -- four round white furry-looking balls as big as her fist -- along the top of the box wall.

Em slipped on the glove and grabbed one of the cookie-balls. "Gimme the lighter."
Jovie handed it over. Em flick-snicked a flame and held it under the cookie. Nothing happened for a moment...

... and then the cookie caught fire.

"Duck," Em said.
Jovie ducked.
Em drew a bead on the middle one in a group of three elves near the outer wall, cocked her arm, and threw.

The cookie arced lazily toward the elves. Em's aim sucked, but the flaming macaroon managed to smack the lead elf in the arm.
And it stuck.

The elf waved its arm wildly as it backpedalled, bumping into its companions. A moment later, flames swarmed over them; they seemed to vibrate for a few moments, then hunkered over and collapsed into an ad-hoc funeral pyre.

But Em was hardly finished. She grabbed another macaroon and held it over the lighter's flame.

"You throw like a girl," Jovie needled.
"Shut up. I'm just not left-handed."
"I am. Gimme that thing."

But Em already had this one lit; she wheeled around, looking for the next-closest target. She gave it her best shot, but the little fireball fell at the thing's stoney feet. It jumped back quickly, avoiding incineration.

"Here," Em said, shucking the glove.
"Use the hairspray to light 'em," Jovie suggested, "it'll go faster."

Em wasn't sure she could do it without blowing herself up. "I don't know how."
"Easy." Jovie swept her arm across the top of the wall, knocking the two remaining macaroons off; they fell with a sticky splat onto the chunk of sheet metal. "Get another package," she said as she grabbed the spraycan and lighter, "hurry." Em tore open another package and smacked it down inverted on the tray, bringing the total to six. Jovie knelt down, and showed Em how to hold the lighter and spraycan. "Keep the lighter below the spray; if it doesn't catch right away, move it up until it does. Try it."

Em grabbed both Aqua-Net and Zippo, aimed, cocked her head to the side to check the nozzles' relative position carefully, aimed again ... She flicked the lighter, and when the flame settled, she squeezed down on the spray nozzle...

"Woah!" Three of the cookies burned brightly. She gave a second shot, sweeping across the tray as she did. Whamfff! Now they were all lit. Jovie grabbed one and they both stood up.