The two werewolves uttered long howls of triumph. My heart pounding, I scrambled to my feet. “Get up!” I frantically pulled Marty up by both arms. We took off after the tram, our bare feet pounding the hard road. The last car bounced a few feet ahead of us. I reached it first. Shot out my right hand. Grabbed the back of the car. With a desperate leap, I hoisted myself up. Up. And into the last seat. Struggling to catch my breath, I turned back to find Marty running behind the tram. His hands reached for the back of the tramcar. “I—I can’t make it!” he gasped. “Run! You’ve got to!” I screamed. Behind him, I could see the werewolves scampering close behind. Marty put on a burst of speed. He grabbed the back of the car with both hands. It dragged him for several feet—until he swung himself around and dropped into the seat beside me. Yes! I thought happily. We made it! We got away from those howling werewolves. Or did we? Would they jump into the tram after us? I spun around, my whole body trembling.
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