As the centipede rounds on Six again, I see Bernie Kosar leap onto its back. He’s back in panther form, digging his claws deep through the monster’s hide. With an annoyed squeal, the centipede rolls through the dirt, forcing BK to jump off or be crushed beneath its bulk. The distraction is enough for Six to create some distance between her and the beast. She turns invisible.

“It’ll be easier if you’re on my back,” Five says, kneeling down in front of me.

I’d feel goofy hopping on Five’s back piggyback style if it wasn’t a life-or-death situation. As soon as I’m on, Five shoots into the air. It isn’t like the shaky levitation we can all manage using our telekinesis; he’s fast, precise, in control. Five gets us about thirty feet in the air, right above the centipede. I start bombarding the creature with fireballs, tossing them down as fast I can generate them. Charred sores open up on its back, a horrible stink rising up in the air.

“Disgusting,” mutters Five.

The centipede roars in pain, coiling in on itself. Its huge eye sweeps frantically across the battlefield. Its tiny brain can’t really register where the pain is coming from. I keep up the assault, hoping I can kill this thing from above before it even knows what’s happening.

My next fireball flies wide of the beast as Five dips suddenly towards the ground. Jostled, I grab onto the back of his shirt until he’s flying straight again. His shirt is soaked through with sweat.

“You all right?” I ask, shouting to be heard over the rushing wind and the howling centipede.

“Not easy carrying around a flamethrower,” he yells back, trying to joke, but his voice sounds strained.

“Just another minute. Hang in there!”

The centipede’s eye rolls back in its head and up, spotting us. It roars again, this time almost gleefully, and then its body lances upwards, all its tiny arms grasping at the air. Its hideous face shoots towards us, teeth gnashing. Five screams and we zip backwards in the air, the beast swallowing empty space where we used to be.

The sudden change in direction throws me off Five’s back, my hand clutching a ripped piece of his T-shirt. I’m falling.

I’m able to push against the ground enough with my telekinesis to somewhat cushion my landing. If not for that, I probably would’ve broken a leg hitting the ground. Still, the wind is knocked out of me. And, to make matters worse, I hit the ground right in front of the beast.

Distantly, I can hear Six and Sarah shouting at me to run. It’s too late for that. The centipede is just forty yards away, rumbling towards me. Its mouth is wide open, a foul stench emanating from the darkness of its gullet.