Peter was gasping for air, partly because he was being squeezed by Kimar, partly because of the terror of what had just happened and mostly from abject fear for his daughter.
“We must go back! Let me go! I have to go back!” he yelled into the side of Kimar’s head, over the roar of wind howling past his own face.
“That would be ill-advised, don’t you think?” replied Kimar, who was now flying more than two hundred feet above the now-demolished roof of Amy and Peter’s home.
Ercen, flying next to Kimar, was holding Amy tightly to her chest.
Although Amy looked terribly frightened to Peter, he could hear her shrieking, “I want my baby! Let us go!”
Only moments earlier, Danielle had run down the hall to fetch the key box. There was an enormous crash. Amy had screamed. Peter had twisted around, horrified to see a third gargoyle, with glowing red eyes, violently thrashing in the rubble of where their entry way had been. The gargoyle was stuck in the collapsed floor, just like Kimar and Ercen were. It was clear the gargoyle was enraged at being stuck in the floorboards and carpet. He was roaring and flailing wildly. He looked up just in time to see Kimar thrusting out his left hand, palm aimed forward, right at the slate-colored gargoyle.
Instantly, several bricks from the fireplace behind Kimar dislodged from the wall and flew past Kimar’s shoulder, over Peter’s head and into the chest of the gargoyle.
While Peter was trying to decide how Kimar had thrown bricks without touching them, Kimar lunged forward and grabbed him by the arm. Ercen seized Amy’s foot, as she recoiled away from the coffee table.
As the red-eyed gargoyle fell backwards from the barrage of bricks, Kimar yelled, “Fly! Fly! Fly!”
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