The savage efficiency of it makes Neal's stomach turn over in an uncomfortable way, but it's not at the fact that Malcolm can do that--it's just that it happened, right in front of him, and it's upsetting.

They run. They run, fighting off hands from the trees, scratches and gouges and the weirdly silent assault of disembodied hands with too many fingers and nails that are far too sharp.

Eventually the hands peter out. Get tired of pursuit, or they manage to leave the territory of the things, or... Doesn't matter.

The point is that they're near the edge of Dogtown again, battered and scraped and bleeding and mercifully not dead by fingering.