The noise is
excruciatingly harsh. Above the strained roar of the cars engines,
the dull rasp of metal dragged over concrete as the pen moves.
Robert swivels in his seat to look out the rear window.
“I think it's going
in the other direction,” he shouts.
“If it's writing,”
Strauss shouts back, “It will go in many directions, but we're sure
all its movements will inevitably lead to us.”
Sure enough, Robert
sees the pen arc away from them, only to loop back round. “It's
heading straight for us,” he calls.
“Why did we come this
way?” Raven bellows.
“We thought it would
be deserted,” Strauss replies, steering the car out of the pen's
path. “His Lordship has gone to a great deal of trouble to try and
apprehend you here.”
