Over Hedge 2 Novels & Stories

“FUCK!” All I could do was run. Felt kind of like Indiana Jones running from that giant boulder. But of course, there’s no quick way for me to dodge it. The hedgehog is on my ass like I owe him money, and these playing cards block me at every turn. It was starting to piss me off. As I’m working up a sweat trying to stay just far enough ahead of this damn hedgehog set on making me a pancake, I hear a narrator voice in a video game shout, “Player Two has joined the game!”

We got about twenty-eight feet when Justine plowed into me, pushing me to the pavement as the hedgehog hutch's edge shattered. Peter and Ricky were both looking at the trees, while Gigi was hiding behind each other, even against the bottom of the granny flat. Five of George's men had hemmed us behind, and Justine couldn't stretch far like that around the hutch to take another shot at them. These troops were wiser than the ones directly ahead, and then one of them was constantly carrying a loaded handgun with ammunition that didn't stop.

Lily asked instead, genuinely shocked and confused. Christopher thoroughly ensured that the security in the house was very tight, so Lily was having a hard time trying to decipher how Hedge was able to get through. “Stop being a bore, Ash,” Hedge whined. “You have not been talking to me, and I do not like that. The agreement was an affair along with loads of money, but unfortunately, I haven’t been getting either of it, and I am getting pissed,” Hedge said darkly. “And you know how I can be when I have been pissed off, right?” Hedge added, sending chills to Lily’s spine.

I ask, completely confused. "The book. Hidden edges."

My eyes looked left and right to make sure no one was in sight before I jumped over the iron fence which led to the back gardens. I knew that what I was doing was risky and unreasonable but I really needed to clear my suspicions concerning Adam and the Ripper. I loved Adam and I hated the facts that I was having doubts about his credibility. I hid behind an Apple tree and peeked at the open fields where the fight had taken place. Dexter was still no where in sight. All the betas were either unconscious on the floor or badly wounded and there was only one man standing.

Black vans and SUVs pulled up to a glass building in Virginia. Not literal glass but a skyscraper, it seemed like some sort of company building. The door was opened for Eden by Astrid, she walked out dressed in all black. She wore a black cropped shirt, a skirt going mid thighs and a black blazer that had the sleeves rolled up. She had her sunglasses perched on her head and she looked like a true business woman, a girl who made her own way in life.

To my right, Adrian sat stiffly, with his jaws tight. He was pissed. “Here’s to two decades of solid friendship and even better opportunities through this union,” My father said, raising his glass. We toasted to that. Then conversation drifted from jokes to business talk, the two old men championing it. “Adrian, honey, is something wrong?” Margaret asked, concern written all over her face. He forced a smile. “The food is incredible.” She beamed at him. “Salt, please.” I reached for the cellar across and passed it to him. Our fingers brushed and he glared at me.

I sat in the dark, fingers pressed to my lip, heart still racing long after the car started moving again. Twenty minutes later, floodlights appeared. They sliced through the rain like white knives. The Forge rose behind a twenty-foot wall. A single sign glowed above the gate: STRENGTH IS THE ONLY TRUTH. A guard in a black rain poncho stepped up, a shotgun slung over his shoulder. He tapped on the glass. Viktor rolled the window down. Cold air rushed into the car like needles. "Delivery for Block C." The guard stared at me. Red eyes, dried blood on my lip. "He looks soft. He won't last a month."

I kneel at the crescent of iron I hammered weeks ago. The nails are still in place. But the soil around them is disturbed. Not by animals. By absence. Tiny pockets where the world feels… slightly removed. Time has been nibbling. Carefully. Testing whether the hedge will respond. Hedges are not fortresses. They are agreements. If the agreement weakens, the edge dissolves. I press my palm to the ground and close my eyes. The hedge hums faintly. Tired. Of course it is. It is older than clocks but not immune to wear.

Tastemiles The girl crawled on fours behind the budding tomato shrubs in the thicket. The man scanned the driveway with his eyes. The thicket too. seconds later, the door slammed behind him. Heavy footsteps echoed in his wake as he made his way down the wooden steps. She creeped further into the thicket, careful not to rustle the leaves hanging from the low branches of the shrub. He marched down the driveway and past the picket gate. The girl creeped out and stood brushing the dried leaves and grime off her cloth. Her face contorted in confusion.