Clara didn’t care about her aching joints anymore. She moved as fast as her cane would allow, flanked by the teenagers who kept pace to ensure she didn’t fall. The paved trail completely vanished behind them as they plunged into the unpaved nature reserve.
The trees grew thicker, blocking out the sun. The urgency in the air was thick. The boys explained as they ran that they had spent the last hour trying to build a human pyramid, but the lower branches were too weak to hold them.
Finally, they burst into a secluded clearing. There stood the massive, ancient oak tree. A sickening crack echoed through the quiet grove. High up, nestled precariously on a splintering, sagging branch, was a flash of white fur. It was Bubbles, crying out in terror as the wood groaned beneath him. It really was a race against time.