A SHORTCUT TO MUSHROOMS

The golden ring now sat at the centre of the kitchen table. Frodo sat heavily in one seat across from Gandalf. The man had removed his coat. Was that blood on his sleeves? In fact Frodo would rather not know. Disturber of the Peace? Yeah that was pretty apt currently.

"This ring was forged by the dark lord, Sauron."

"Wait," Frodo interrupted. "Magic rings and dark lords? Come on Gandalf. This isn't a fantasy world."

"Take heed Frodo. This ring was stolen by Isildur from the hand of the dark lord himself."

"Sauron right?" Frodo cocked his brows now. What rubbish.

"Frodo look at your uncle. He has had possession of this ring for near 60 years now, it had prolonged his life, delayed old age. You don't honestly think living to 111 years old is normal now do you?"

"Well...no..."

"Precisely my point. Evil is stirring in Mordor. The ring has awoken, Frodo. It's heard it's masters call."

This day had changed from an uneventful Monday to a scarefest being provided by none other than Gandalf himself. Evil? Mordor? Who the hell was Isildur? As if a ring could feel things. Frodo eyed the object sat heavily on the table, he had felt the weight as it had dropped into his hand, seen it change before his very eyes. The moment of silence was shattered when Frodo heard a faint low whisper of an indecipherable language. Was this Gandalf's idea of a joke? However Frodo realized it wasn't the old man across the table from him. His eyes darted to the ring sat on the table top. Was it...speaking?

"Sauron has endured, his life bound to the ring. He is seeking it, seeking it, all his thought bent on it. For the ring earns, above all else, to return to the hand of its master. They are one, the ring and the dark lord."

Frodo reached out and snatched the ring off the table, that weight again. The whispering silenced.

"This is ridiculous. You can't honestly expect me to believe this?" He growled marching from the kitchen. The sound of a chair grating on the stone sounded behind him as Gandalf rose to follow. Frodo stepped into the living room. "We'll just put it away, keep it hidden! Never speak of it again. No one knows it's here, do they?" Frodo was growing uncomfortable, was he actually falling for this? Although he had wished all his life to have something more exciting happen this just wasn't adding up. He turned and looked around to the old man stepping into the living room behind him. He seemed uncomfortable.

"Do they Gandalf?"

The old man's eyes turned sorrowful.

"There is one other who knew that Bilbo had the ring. I looked everywhere for him. Gollum...but the enemy found him first."

What? Who was Gollum? People would be looking for it?

"I don't know how long they tortured him...but amidst the endless screams and inane babble, they discerned two words. Shire. Baggins."

Frodo felt his stomach drop out of his body, his heart throb loudly. This wasn't funny anymore. Whatever game Gandalf was playing Frodo wasn't buying it. "Shire? Baggins? That would lead 'them' here!" Who was 'them'? Frodo had enough he took a step toward Gandalf and held the ring out. "Take it! Take it!" He demanded. He wanted nothing to do with it. Gandalf was sincere with every word he spoke, even if he wished not to speak them. He wasn't lying.

"No Frodo..." The old man scowled drawing back from the ring.

"You have to take it!"

"You cannot offer me this ring."

"I'm giving it to you-just take it!"

"Don't tempt me, Frodo!" Gandalf barked a dark expression crossing his brow. He brushed past the teen and held his eyes on the window of the living room. Why wouldn't he just take it? In fact he had never touched it? It was just a ring wasn't it...? "I dare not take it," Gandalf's tone softened now, "Not even to keep it safe. Understand Frodo. I would use this ring from a desire to do good...but through me, it would wield a power too great and terrible to imagine."

Frodo scowled. Through him? All that talk of being a wizard...

"But it cannot stay in the Shire!"

"No," Gandalf turned to look at the boy again, "No it can't."

Frodo hesitated a long moment looking to the ring in his hand. It grew heavier now. The whispered almost...calling to him. He closed his fingers around the jewellery piece before looking to Gandalf. "What must I do?"

"You must leave," Gandalf stepped past him now, "And leave quickly. Get out of the Shire."

Frodo spun as Gandalf led him to his bedroom. The room was a dishevelled mess, clothes laid about the room in ungraceful heaps, books and unfinished homework on the cluttered desk, a prop sword and green cloak he had gotten from a comic-con not too long back. Paintings of elves and heroes from his fantasy stories lined the wall. Frodo was met with a t-shirt to the face as Gandalf began to pull clothes from his wardrobe. Quickly Frodo grabbed his backpack and stuffed the t-shirt in. His mind was racing. What was happening? He couldn't wrap his mind around it but Gandalf seemed urgent and above all-deathly serious.

"Where? Where should I even go?" Frodo asked stuffing another pair of jeans in the bag.

"Make for the town of Bree."

"Bree?" Wasn't that the town near the river? Bilbo had always warned him not to go there. It was a town full of drunks, drugs and crime. "What about you?"

"I will be waiting at the Prancing Pony hotel."

"And the ring will be safe there?"

"No. I don't have any answers. I must seek the head of my order. He is wise and powerful. Trust me Frodo, he'll know what to do."

They left the bedroom and entered the kitchen. Frodo stuffed a number of items in his bag before striding into the living room-following the old man. Gandalf brushed the hair back from his face.

"You'll have to leave the name of Baggins behind. That name isn't safe outside the Shire."

Frodo jerked the sleeve of his jacket over his shoulder-his name couldn't be used?

"Travel only by day and stay off the train and busses, main roads will be dangerous."

"I can cut across country easily enough." Frodo nodded-he had his bike. Bilbo had just bought him that very bike for the previous Christmas, it was a hardy thing. Why hadn't he learned how to drive? Frodo turned and looked up to Gandalf who peered down to him before giving a warm smile.

"My dear Frodo, you truly are an amazing thing. You can learn all there is to about someone and yet, after a hundred years, they still surprise you."

A hundred years? It was as though finally when things were making sense Gandalf stripped it all away. There was a clang from outside. Both turned and stared at the open window. Gandalf froze.

"Get down," He hissed. Snatching his cane from near the fireplace the old man held it firm in his hands moving toward the window, quietly. What was he going to do? It was probably that blasted cat of the Bolgers. It was always sneaking through the window to raid the fridge. Gandalf neared the window and leant carefully out before striking his cane down. There was a yelp of pain and surprise. Gandalf disposed of his staff now and reached out the window. With almost inhumane strength he hauled the young form of Samwise Gamgee through the window and slammed him down onto the desk.

"Confound it all! Samwise Gamgee, have you been eavesdropping?" Gandalf roared. He was furious. Frodo wondered what the hell Sam had been doing outside the window anyway.

"I ain't been dropping no eaves, sir!" Sam spluttered, he had always been unsure of Gandalf-like most. Seems to have been for good reason. "Honest. I was just cutting the grass under the window there, it you follow me..."

Sam did always help with the gardening for Bilbo-he was a natural at it. He had always had a great interest in herbs too.

"It's a little late for trimming the verge, don't you think?" Gandalf growled his hands propping on his hips. Frodo glanced out the window. It was as black as night out there.

"I heard raised voices..." Sam finally admitted.

"What did you hear?" Gandalf demanded, "Speak!" The last word was so sharp it made Sam and Frodo jump from their skins.

"Nothing important!" Sam defended, "That is...I heard a good deal about a ring...and a dark lord..something about the end of the world...but please Mr. Gandalf. Sir. Don't hurt me."

Gandalf stood a long moment, one of his furry brows popping up. "No?" He said slowly. Frodo grinned. He knew that tone.

"Perhaps not..." Gandalf mused bringing his hands from his hips he stroked his beard thoughtfully with a single hand. "I've thought of a better use for you."

The next morning was a chilly and misty start. Frodo couldn't recall the last time he had ever risen this early. He sat silently on the wall, Sam next to him their bikes flopped on the floor. Both had a backpack full of clothes and food and cash. Gandalf had been good enough to grant them that. Gandalf rose tall now from the trunk of his car and reached up closing the trunk with a loud clunk. He clutched the cane close, keeping it near his leg, a brace of steel around his knee. He hobbled along and looked down to Frodo and Sam.

"Be careful," He muttered after a long moment, "Both of you. The enemy has many spies in his service, many ways of hearing..."

Frodo would indulge Gandalf and bring the ring to him in Bree but he still attempted to wrap his head around all of it. Spies? Why on earth would anyone care about a teenager like him? Sam leapt off the wall and reached down grabbing his bike hauling it up. Gandalf turned to Frodo now, lowering his voice.

"Is it safe?" He muttered.

Frodo looked to his jean pocket and patted it before nodding.

"Never ever put it on. The agents of the dark lord will be drawn to its power. Always remember Frodo, the ring is trying to get back to its master...it wants to be found..." Frodo was on the verge of arguing. A ring couldn't possess thoughts. Gandalf spun, as quickly as his leg would allow and hobbled back to the car disappearing into the grey shell before pulling away from the spot they had stopped in the woods. The car roared to life, his tyres screeching over the gravel as it sprinted off down the road. Frodo looked after the car before heaving a sigh. It was still cold. Reaching to the zip of his hoody he pulled it higher before casting a look to Sam. Sam currently munched on a twix cocking his brows.

They set off, cycling down the back roads of Hobbiton. Actually Frodo could get used to the early mornings, there was no one up yet. Everywhere was quite, the tractors weren't in the fields yet, the cars were nowhere on the road. It was peaceful. The sun broke over the horizon bathing the land in a cool golden hue. Mesmerizing. For a moment Frodo actually felt as though he was a hero, like the ones in his stories. The tyres of his bike grinded over the dirt as he descended down a hill, rising from his seat to avoid the seat battering his backside. There was a squeal of tyres from behind. Frodo glanced back and noticed Sam still atop the bank. What was he doing? He seemed uncertain, the chubby boy with sandy hair was hesitant now.

"This is it," Sam heaved, his fingers clutching the handlebars of the bike. It was an old thing in comparison to Frodo's. A rusted thing that he had gotten when he was younger.

"This is what?" Frodo scowled.

"If I go any further...it'll be the farthest away from home I've ever been."

Frodo smirked before gesturing the boy to descend the bank after him. Hesitantly Sam allowed his bike to drift down the bank drawing level with his friend. Frodo reached out and clamped a hand down on the boy's shoulder.

"Come on, Sam," He grinned, "Remember what Bilbo used to say? It's a dangerous business, Frodo, going out your door. You step onto the road and if you don't keep your feet? There's no knowing where you might be swept off to."

The Mercedes drifted easily over the road toward its destination, into the forested estate of Isengard. Here was where the head of his order resided. Nestled in the foot of a basin near the Misty Mountain range, the large old Victorian home of Orthanc came into view at the end of a gravelled drive. It was a tall looming thing among the forested estate. A great wall encircled the estate, near a mile from one side to the next, protecting the estate from the people that would wish the trees and gardens harm. The gardens were renowned throughout Middle-Earth and all, seemingly, because of the water from streams that flowed down from the mountains. The Mercedes drew to a slow halt outside the large heavy doors of the manor. A man stood at the top of the steps, his white hair swept back a deep contrast to his black pointed brows, beard cut close and kempt, skin craggy but filled with wisdom. He wore a white suit, as always, a silver tie and waistcoat beneath. What an elegant man he truly was. Gandalf pushed the door of the car open and stepped out giving a heavy smile. The drive was no short thing. It had taken the better part of the day to get from Hobbiton to Isengard.

"That is why you have come, is it not, my old friend?" the man in white descended the steps, a cane of polished black clutched in his bony hand. Gandalf bowed his head in respect to the man.

"Saruman." Gandalf stood tall as he removed the cane from his car.

Both men wondered throughout the gardens. Gandalf felt grimy in comparison to his friend. Perhaps he should have made a stop and washed before arriving. Saruman seemed none to bothered by it all. His eyes were faraway now as Gandalf finished his description of the previous weeks incidents.

"Are you sure of this?" He asked slowly, his black brows furrowed.

"Beyond any doubt," Gandalf nodded leaning heavily on the cane. Even his cane was shabby in comparison. A simple thing of oak.

"So the ring of power has been found?"

"All these long years it has always been in the Shire. Under my very nose, no less."

"And yet you did not have the wit to see it," Saruman scolded in a cool tone. "Your love of the leaf from the valley has clearly slowed your mind."

Gandalf should have expected as much from his brother in arms. Yes he had taken a particular liking to the Old Toby leaf that grew there but it hadn't deemed him inept to do his duty. "We still have time. Time enough to counter Sauron if we act quickly." Gandalf corrected.

"Time?" Saruman paused in his step now and turned to look at him. How the man in white always made Gandalf feel like a piece of utter dirt. "What time do you think we have?"

They had left the peacefulness of the gardens and returned to the manor. Saruman had to have been deeply disturbed though he was hiding it marvellously, the man never gave anything away. They sat now in a small cluttered room to the side of what was the main hall of the manor. Saruman sat his leg crossed elegantly, his cheek rested on a fist as he sat tall in a high backed chair.

"Sauron has regained much of his former strength, he cannot yet take physical form..but his spirit has lost none of its potency."

Gandalf wondered across the room poking and prodding at the papers and books within while keeping an ear on Saruman's words. So Sauron was growing stronger? What did that mean for Middle-Earth?

"Concealed within his fortress, he sees all. His eyes can pierce cloud, shadow, earth and flesh. You know of what I speak Gandalf...a great Eye, lidless, wreathed in flame."

"The eye of Sauron..." Gandalf was more than unsettled at the thought.

"He's gathering all those evil to him. Very soon he will have summoned an army."

"You know this? How?"

"I have seen it."

Gandalf marched forward toward a room in the rear of the manor. How dare he!

"Its a dangerous tool, Saruman!" He scolded now. Saruman seemed not affected by the words that were thrown from Gandalf's mouth. He cocked a brow as he followed Gandalf. Gandalf noted a tall plinth in the centre of the room a cloth covering an object beneath, the rest of the room was bare.

"Why?" Saruman asked calmly, "Why should we fear to use it?" Saruman reached out and pulled the cloth off the plinth. It revealed an orb, a dark glass that could be barely seen into.

Gandalf knew the exact reason why they shouldn't be used. "They are not all accounted for, the lost seeing stones. We do not know who else may be watching." Gandalf snatched the cloth back from the man in white and recovered the orb.

"The hour is later then you think..." Saruman muttered turning and leaving the room once again, Gandalf spun and followed. "Sauron's forces are already...you are aware that the Nine have left Minas Morgul?"

"The nine?" Gandalf gasped. No.

"They crossed the river Isen on Midsummer's eve..."

"They'll have reached the Shire!" Gandalf was beginning to become unsettled now. Why did Saruman not bare the same worry? All the man before him did was merely shrug his shoulders.

"They will find the ring...and kill the one who carries it."

Kill? Gandalf backed away quickly and turned rushing toward the closest door he could find. It shut. The doors that lined the room all slammed closed keeping him within the room. Was someone out there? Or was Saruman playing these games?

"You did not seriously think a child could contend with the will of Sauron? There are none who can..."

Gandalf realized now.

"Against the power of Mordor, there can be no victory. We must join with him, Gandalf. We must join with Sauron. It would be wise...my friend."

Gandalf stood a moment. His shoulders sagged in despair. He turned to face the man in white who was once again sat in the high backed chair.

"Tell me...friend," Gandalf said slowly. "When did Saruman the Wise abandon reason for madness?" Saruman's expression dropped and fury overtook his face. Gandalf felt his body thrown back without warning. He crashed back against the nearest wall. Saruman's hand was raised out before him. Gandalf quickly rose to his feet, his back would ache in the morning. Reaching out Gandalf snatched the cane and swung it toward Saruman. Saruman was thrown back off his feet. It continued both men battling each other in the old ways. All the poise was stripped away from the man in white in that moment, his aura emitted fury now. Gandalf clutched his cane tightly looking across the room as they both stared at one another. Saruman screamed, eyes blazing madly. The cane was stripped from his grip now, it flew across the room and into Saruman's hand. What was he to do now? His body was thrown to the floor with such crippling force he felt as though his bones would snap.

"I gave you the chance of aiding me willingly, but you have elected the way of pain!" Saruman bellowed.

Frodo wondered forward, clutching the bike as he went.

"Mr. Frodo? Mr. Frodo!"

He could hear it from behind him. Pausing he turned and noted Sam running after him from around the corner. Frodo cocked a brow. What was wrong with him? It wasn't as though Frodo had vanished.

"I thought I'd lost you," Sam breathed a heavy sigh of relief.

"What?"

"It's just something Gandalf said."

That man! "What did he say?"

"He said, 'Don't you leave him, Samwise Gamgee. And I don't mean to."

Frodo couldn't help the laugh that escaped him, "Sam we're still in the Shire. What could possibly happen?"

CRASH! Frodo was sent toppling to the side, his bike was flung into a ditch. Sam pushed past the boy and reached to Frodo drawing him back up to his feet. Frodo attempted to suck the breath that had been thrust from his lungs. Two minutes later he was thrust over again as another boy crashed into him.

"Frodo? Merry it's Frodo Baggins." One of the boys that had just appeared laughed. That was Peregrin Took. He was a relative of Frodo's, cousins of sorts he never fully checked out his ancestry. He had rusty colored curls beneath his beanie. He had a scarf thrown around his neck which dangled loosely, He wore a denim jacket over a t-shirt and jeans finished with heavy laced boots. The other boy, slightly taller, was golden haired and round nosed and slim. He wore a canvas jacket over a plaid shirt and jeans a similar pair of boots on his feet.

"Hello Frodo," Merry grinned. Frodo looked to Merry before looking at the other boy they were currently attempting to scramble and collect a variety of vegetables scattered everywhere.

"What's the meaning of this?" Sam demanded attempting to drag Frodo's bike out of the ditch.

"Sam, hold this..." Merry announced shoving a hefty cabbage into Sam's arms.

"Have you been in Farmer Maggot's crop?" All four paused when they heard shouting from somewhere in the crop field and the sound of a quad bike. That would be Farmer Maggot now. Merry and Pippin stooped snatching the remains of their booty before racing away. Frodo looked to Sam in the ditch and extended his hand. Quickly he jerked the boy out of the ditch and together they raced after Merry and Pippin leaving the bikes behind. They quickly caught pace with the other two.

"I don't know why he's so upset," Merry called over his shoulder, "It's only a couple of carrots!"

"And some cabbages...and those three bags of potatoes that we lifted last week! And the mushrooms the week before."

"Yes Pippin, my point it, he's clearly over reacting!" Merry growled. The quad was getting closer, was that dogs? Frodo's heart was racing in his chest. Maggot would know it was them. None the less they didn't want to be caught by him-he was a nasty bastard when he wanted to be.

"Run!" Pippin called out quickly taking the lead. They ran quickly. Pippin emerged quickly leapt over a wall and dropped, Merry following. Frodo skidded to a halt and slammed into the wall casting a look over. The dropped stone was replaced with heavy barbed wire and rotted rails. The fence line gave way to an almighty drop off on the other side. Sam crashed into the back of Frodo. His knees cracked off the stone. The quad was gaining ground-as were the dogs. Frodo quickly scrambled over the wire before throwing himself down the bank. He crashed into the earth, unable to keep his footing and fell heavily-tumbling and rolling. He landed finally on the surface of a dark wooded road on top of a Merry and Pippin shaped heap. He was on the verge of getting up before feeling the weight of Sam land on top of him. They all grunted loudly, quickly untangling themselves.

"That was close," Pippin muttered. Frodo noted the scuffs in the knees of his jeans from where he had hit the stone, he was covered in a healthy covering of dirt and earth and covered in grass stains now. Great. Heaving a sigh he untangled himself from the others and stood up looking up and down the leaf covered road. It was silent. There was nothing...in fact he didn't even recognize where they were.

"Ow...I think I've broken something," Merry grumbled. Frodo cast a look over his shoulder to the teen to see him jerking a carrot from out behind his back-it was cracked in half. He hadn't broken anything.

"Trust a Brandybuck and a Took," Sam scolded sitting up and dusting the dirt off his windbreaker.

"What?" Merry scowled sitting up and shaking the earth from his lengthy hair. "That was just a detour...a shortcut if you want."

"A shortcut? To what?" Sam's brows rose in shook.

"Mushrooms!" Pippin said loudly now. There in the loamy undergrowth was indeed a cluster of small brown mushrooms. Great so now Merry and Pippin were going to get high on top of everything else. Sam, Merry and Pippin all rose to their feet and darted for the mushrooms. Frodo couldn't partake in the joy at that moment in time. He watched the road, hadn't Gandalf warned him about the roads? The breeze grew now, sending the leaves coating the road into a spiral.

"I think we should get off the road..." Frodo muttered quietly. He turned and peered over his shoulder toward the others. They were still busy collecting and picking the mushrooms-they hadn't even heard him. There was a shrill wail-like a scream of an...creature.

"Get off the road!" Frodo turned now and bolted to the others quickly knocking the mushrooms from Sam's grip and sprinting for a bank at the roadside. He could hear the engine of a car now. Frodo dropped down the bank and hid underneath the outcropping of a rotting mossy log-the other three were quick to follow. The huddled together beneath the bank as the sound of a car drew closer. It's engine roared before slowly dying off, the sound of brakes squealing against metal followed. Frodo couldn't see anything, he kept his eyes ahead. A moment ago there had been nothing-no human-no car and now it was stopping right over them. Frodo dared a look over his shoulder and peered through a gap in the rotted wood to see the large shadow of a black SUV standing on the road. Was that a Chevy suburban? The door to the driver's side cracked open and a man stepped out, dressed in a black tactical suit-like something out of a military movie. His face was covered by a mask, a heavy black helmet atop his head with thick heavy set goggles. Frodo couldn't make out anything on his face thanks to all that gear. Was that a gun? Frodo spun where he sat and attempted to remain calm. Who the hell was that? A strange noise filled the air...was that sniffing? It was like something was trying to...smell them out? Was the man making that noise? Beads of sweat were beginning to form on his brow. Just stay still. He cast a look to Pippin as a large black spider clambered onto his shoulder. Worms were playing in the earth at their feet, centipedes slithering across the wood. Footsteps sounded on the road, heavy boots approached. Had they been seen? Frodo dared another look. The man was inches from him, he was ducked onto his hunkers assessing the road looking for...what? The sound of that sniffing continued, it was louder now. Frodo felt something calling out to him. The ring. Without realising he noted the ring in his hands, his hands were trembling with the weight of it. It wanted him to put it on. No he wasn't meant to. It was drawing nearer and nearer his finger. Shit. What the hell was happening to him? He shut his eyes. He wished it to all just go away. A hand grabbed at him. The man on the road? No. Sam. Frodo snapped his eyes open and jerked the ring away from his awaiting finger. Merry suddenly leant out and hurled a small sack of their mushrooms across the road. The man in the tactical armor rose, sprinted to his SUV and the engine roared to life reversing quickly to investigate the sound.

They had fled-quickly. Ran into the woods away from the road, Frodo wanted nothing to do with it, they had lost their bikes and a good degree of the food in their backpacks when they had fallen down that hill. Merry and Pippin had opted to follow them. Night was drawing in now, it was hard to see where the hell you were going. Pippin had luckily produced a flashlight from his satchel. Frodo ran ahead with the light in hand attempting to find the river. If they could find that then they could follow it to Bree...right? The ground was muddy, they slipped and slid across it. Frodo skidded, managing to just catch himself on a tree before he fell to the floor.

"Anything?" Sam called from behind.

"Nothing." Frodo called after a long moment of surveying the trees with the flashlight.

"Ugh, what is going on?" Pippin wined as he stomped forward before bending low and leaning on his knees. For such a skinny fellow he surprisingly wasn't very fit.

"That guy in black was looking for something...or someone...Frodo?" That was Merry's voice from behind him. Frodo paused and looked across to his friend who eyed him carefully.

"Get down!" Sam barked. All four dropped quickly, Frodo fell behind the cover of the tree attempting to find the switch for the damned light. He dared a look around the tree to see a pair of headlights peering through the trees, the silhouette of the large SUV stood on a ridge in the forest. Frodo finally found the switch and flicked the light off. They all held their breath-as though that might help. After a moment the SUV drifted away.

"I have to leave the Shire...Sam and I must get to Bree," Frodo looked to Merry.

"The fuck have you gotten yourself into?" Merry shook his head. "Follow me!" All four rose to their feet quickly and bolted through the trees, Frodo had given the flashlight to Merry and allowed him to guide them. He seemed to know where they were going. They ran through the woods, the mud lapping at their shoes, breath's turned into white clouds as a chill set in. There was a roar of an engine. Not of the SUV this time thought. It was a dirt bike-a black off road thing. A man in black sat atop identical to the one they had witnessed in the SUV. Frodo felt his heart drop as he collapsed to the floor the bike in front of him.

"This way!" Merry barked over the grinding of the bike's engine. Frodo scrambled in the mud, rose to his feet and bolted. There was that shrill scream again. What the hell was that? Frodo paid no mind and ran on now. The trees would make it difficult for the bike to pass, the ground wouldn't help-that would give them some time. Some. All four ran. Leaves from low hanging branches smacked him as he passed, he reached out attempting to bat them away. He couldn't count how many times he nearly fell in the mud. The sound of the bikes engine and that awful shriek filled the night air. Frodo could hear through it all-water. The river. The Brandywine River. Thank god. Frodo pushed himself onward. Pippin was close behind Merry who was in the lead, Sam behind Pippin. A small cottage appeared through the trees, near the river. A jetty was extended out into the inky waters, a number of row boats lining it.

"Come on!" Merry called out again. They were met with a chain link fence. Pippin and Merry were quick to scurry over the top, Sam followed. They bolted for the boats. Merry leapt into the one at the Pier's end. It was a small rubber thing with an engine. It would do. Problem? No keys. Merry cracked a hand against the panel below the steering wheel and began to fiddle with the wires. Pippin and Sam were swiftly attempting to unfasten the boat from the pier itself. Lights flickered on in the cottage. Frodo ran. His heart was racing and his clothes stuck to him uncomfortably from the sweat that poured down him. The sound of the dirt bike was behind him-gaining on him. The driver seemed to have picked a suitable way through the woods. They wouldn't get over the fence though. Frodo counted his strides carefully and leapt toward the fence getting a grip on the chain links and scurrying over. He landed heavily with a grunt. The bike skidded to a halt. But it wasn't over the man swung his leg and dismounted the bike. Shit. Frodo rose again.

"Frodo!" Sam bellowed from the boat. The engine was chugging now. Frodo ran across the grass toward the jetty. There was a snap. He ducked instinctively. Was that a gun? He dared a look over his shoulder to see the man in black had crashed open the main gates of the dock with his bike and was quickly speeding after. Frodo didn't think his legs could carry him much further.
"Frodo come on!" Pippin squealed from the motorboat which was beginning to drift away from the jetty. Frodo made a last effort-sneakers crashing against the wooden boards of the jetty. He leapt. He was overjoyed when he felt the soft surface of the rubber boat rush to meet him. There was a loud squeal as the dirt bike came to a grinding halt at the jetty's end. Merry was swift in putting the boat to gear and they took off down the river. Frodo was helped to his feet by Sam. They watched the man in black on the pier. There was another monstrous shriek.

"What is that?" Pippin asked. Frodo didn't know. He didn't know what was going on at all.

"How far to Bree?" Frodo looked to Merry.

"About 20 miles," Merry responded, "Hope this thing has enough fuel."

Frodo turned his eyes back to the jetty and saw the man on the dirt bike vanishing back toward the woods, two more dirt bikes with men all dressed similarly rushed past the road at the end of the laneway. The third bike spun round to meet them and together they all vanished into the night. Frodo heaved a sigh and slumped down onto the rubber side of the boat.