Still, he’d take whatever time it gave him.
Where’s Sam? Jake thought, and looked around, doing his best to pierce the layer of fog that floated an inch above the dark water. A subtle motion in the haze and the rhythmic sounds of a swimmer’s strokes through the water reached him, and his heart began beating again.
They were both all right, for the time being, it seemed.
Jake knew if they didn’t come up with a plan quickly, they were finished. The noise they were making was sure to bring the Nightshade down on top of them, and each successive moment they spent in these freezing waters would quickly leech away their strength, slowing their reaction time. They might not move fast enough to get out of the way of the next attack.
Jake didn’t even want to consider what might happen then.
He struck out after Sam, quickly catching up to him as he floundered toward shore.
"You all right?" Jake asked softly, when he had reached him.
"Shoulder’s bleeding, but I don’t think it’s too bad. Not sure if that thing got me or if I hit the rocks on the way down. The cold is helping to numb the pain, though. I think I’ll be all right provided we get out of here soon. Any ideas?"
Jake shook his head in reply.
They didn’t have much time to debate their choices.
As they spoke, they kept looking up into the sky, struggling to catch a glimpse of their pursuer. Which was why they failed to see him, when, minutes later, he swept out of the fog only an inch or two above the water, suddenly appearing like a wraith in the night, his claws extended and eager for flesh.
"Look out!" Sam cried, spying the beast, shoving himself backwards at the last moment in an effort to get away from those deadly talons.
Jake was not as quick. The Nightshade’s claw caught him a glancing blow across the face, carving a deep furrow in his left cheek.
As quickly as it had come, the beast disappeared back into the concealing darkness.
The pain was sharp, and Jake could feel the blood flowing freely down his face, but he could tell that the wound wasn’t bad. Another inch or two and it might have been a different story.
"Jake! Over here!"
Glancing in the direction of the sound, he saw Sam treading water several yards off, closer to shore.
"Look!" his friend cried, and pointed toward the shoreline.
*** ***
High above, Moloch caught a rising thermal and drifted with it, watching his prey in the water far below. His eyesight was exceptional, and he had no trouble picking out the heat of their bodies despite the camouflaging coolness of the water around them.
There was no hurry. He would take his time, for he got a perverse sort of pleasure out of playing with his prey.
The humans, as he had learned they now called themselves, had aroused his curiosity. They would never be more than cattle to him. But it was obvious that they had come a long way since he had hunted their kind in the rich, verdant forests they had begun to settle many centuries ago. They had taken many of the lessons the Elders had taught them to heart and had spread in numbers he never would have dreamed possible. That made them more interesting as prey; still no match for one of his kind, but interesting nonetheless.
Especially these two.
It almost seemed as if they had been waiting for him. As if they knew he would be coming.
How was that possible?
The information he gleaned from his first kill told him that humans had long since forgotten the winged predator that once hunted them in flocks. Time had erased their fears, changing memories into myths. Those myths were altered so heavily now as to be almost unrecognizable. The Na’Karat had ceased to exist for them.
What were these two doing here?
He was merely curious; the truth matter little. The end result would be the same. As the thrill of the hunt rose in his breast, he cast aside his ruminations and turned his attention once more to those floundering in the water below.
*** ***
Jake peered in the direction Sam had indicated. The fog was thick in that area, and while Jake was thankful for its presence since it helped hide them from the vicious presence above, he cursed it for hiding whatever it was Sam was pointing at.
"What?" he called softly. "I don’t see…" but then he did. Out of the gloom at the edge of the lake he could just barely make out the crumbled remains of a small structure. Looking at it, Jake realized that if they could reach it, it might provide enough of a shelter to protect them from the creature’s attacks.
"Can you make it?" he asked Sam. Even from where he was he could see the savage gashes the beast’s claws had torn in Sam’s leather jacket and he could only imagine the condition of the flesh beneath. The pain had to be severe, and Jake knew that Sam’s swimming was probably opening the wounds even farther.
Staying here was not an option, however.
Apparently Sam had come to the same conclusion. "Do I have any other choice?" he replied, smiling weakly.
As Sam headed in the direction of the structure as swiftly as the cold and his injury allowed, Jake hesitated a moment, casting his gaze heavenward, wondering just where in hell the creature was. The fog, earlier an ally, was now their enemy, hiding the beast from sight. He strained his ears, but the thick fog deadened all but the loudest noises. Even the sound of Sam swimming several yards away came back sufficiently muted as to be easily missed.
Let’s hope that thing’s hearing sucks, Jake thought to himself grimly as he struck out after Sam.
*** ***
The object of Jake’s attention was at that moment soaring high above the lake, leisurely preparing for another attack. He was in no hurry; the cattle were trapped below, floundering about in the cold waters of the river. Even from here he could smell their fear.
He’d missed twice on purpose, playing with them in the same fashion in which a cat will tease its prey, letting fear and adrenaline push them closer and closer to the edge. He knew he could catch them whenever he wanted; he might as well enjoy the game for a while longer.
He glanced down at the water, his heat-sensitive vision easily picking out the two forms below, thrashing toward shore.
His tongue danced over his teeth and Moloch grinned to himself, his mouth salivating in anticipation of the hot, living flesh to come. With one final glance downward, he folded his wings and dropped like a stone toward the water below.
*** ***
They were only ten yards from shore when Moloch struck again. This time, Jake was alert and waiting. He recognized the sudden tension in the back of his mind as an instinctive warning signal and reacted quickly.
"Dive!" he cried, and instantly followed his own command, praying as he did so that Sam could follow suit. Sucking a quick lungful of air, he hurled his body beneath the surface of the water, kicking desperately, clawing with his hands for more depth. A small voice in the back of his mind whispered that Moloch’s plunge from above would in turn propel him a long way beneath the surface and if they weren’t deep enough, they stood little chance of surviving.
The water was dark as pitch at midnight, impossible to see in, and after a few seconds Jake stopped trying. The lack of his most commonly used sense disoriented him, so he was surprised when his outstretched arms encountered the slime-covered mud at the bottom of the lake.
Too shallow! his mind screamed at him, irrationally begging him to go deeper.
There was nowhere else for him to go.
Jake stayed down as long as he could, skimming the lake bottom, fearful of resurfacing, uncertain as to what awaited him above. Had they made it in time? Were razor sharp claws even now reaching down through the gloom above, ready to rip through his skin, shredding it from his bones? Had Sam gotten away or was his blood staining the water a crimson hue? There was no way of knowing for sure except by surfacing, something his oxygen-starved lungs were ordering him to do.
Jake gave in to the demand.
Unable to see, the ascent was as harrowing as the de
scent and seemed to take twice as long. For a moment Jake wondered if he’d gotten turned around somehow, if he was actually swimming laterally instead of vertically. The fear grew as his lungs struggled to inhale; the moment stretching into what seemed like infinity, until he broke the surface with no more warning than when he’d touched the bottom. His mouth sucked in great whooping lungfuls of air, unmindful of the noise he was making in his need to assuage the burning in his tissues.
Amazingly enough, Sam was there as well, no more than a few feet away.
"Thank God!" his friend exclaimed when he saw him, the fear in his eyes easing slightly. Jake knew exactly what he was feeling. Facing this thing together was bad enough, but doing it alone would be infinitely worse.
For his part, Sam was amazed they had survived this long.
They had been lucky.
Sam was acutely aware that luck had a way of running out when it was needed most.
He glanced around, looking for the Nightshade. As far as he could tell, the sky above them was clear. The fog was still around them, but was getting noticeably thinner. A slight gray tinge had begun to seep into the sky and Sam found himself praying the dawn would come soon.
They had only moments to get out of sight before the Nightshade regained enough altitude to begin another attack, and Sam was certain they’d already used a good portion of that time regaining the surface. They had to keep moving!
Despite his exertions, the pain in his shoulder began abate, no doubt a result of the temperature of the water. The cold had slowed the bleeding as well, for which he was grateful.
Jake could see the structure clearly now. It was the remains of a boathouse. While it looked like it might offer them some protection, it was still several yards away and would require effort to reach.
There was no time to waste. Ignoring what was left of the pain in his arm and the deep cold that was slowly working its way through the rest of his limbs, Sam doggedly resumed swimming, heading for what he hoped was safety.
Two of the four walls remained standing, the others having succumbed to the ravages of time and weather, collapsing inward against the others to form a ragged lean-to. The roof had collapsed down over these walls as the wood beneath decayed. The most of the dock on which it stood had long since collapsed as well, submerging the lower third of the structure beneath the water line.
Looking at it, Sam felt his heart sink.
What he had hoped would be strong enough to protect them from the beast’s attacks didn’t even look strong enough to survive being touched. The dock itself didn’t look any better; at any minute what remained might collapse the rest of the way into the lake.
When they reached it, they discovered that there seemed to be room for them to hide beneath it. It appeared they could swim underwater and come back up inside the boathouse, safe from view from above, hiding in the pocket of air trapped beneath what remained of the roof.
They wasted no time debating it. Jake dove beneath the surface with Sam quickly following, determined to occupy their makeshift sanctuary as quickly as possible.
They resurfaced, relieved that their suspicions had been correct. By clinging to what remained of the dock support pillars, they could gain a small measure of rest for their weary limbs, but both knew they couldn’t keep this up for long. If the Nightshade didn’t get them, hypothermia would.
The morning around them was quiet. Other than the barely heard sound of the water gently lapping at the remains of the dock, no other noise reached their ears.
Where the hell is that thing? Jake wondered anxiously.
*** ***
At that moment, Moloch was circling the lake, rage burning like an inferno in his breast. Only moments ago he had them trapped. Nowhere to go, no room to run, no means for them to escape. Yet that was exactly what seemed to have happened. They had inexplicably disappeared from sight.
Moloch was furious. Never before had the cattle outsmarted him. He would not let these two be the first.
He swept down low across the water, swiveling his head to and fro as he searched the bank near where he’d made his last attack. He searched for both a trail through the weeds to indicate where they might have gotten out of the water and for the heat residue left behind by their bodies in passing, but he found neither. The frigid temperature of the water and the rising sun to the east worked against him in this endeavor.
It would be dawn soon. Moloch hated the sunlight; too much of it affected his vision, blurring everything with the sudden avalanche of heat, making it difficult for him to see. While he could still rely on his other senses, he did not like to be placed at so clear a disadvantage. With the gray light of dawn slowly beginning to filter into the sky, Moloch knew he did not have much time unless he wished to be seen during the day. Tiring of the low level passes across the water, Moloch swept toward the remains of a small structure against the shoreline and settled tentatively atop the peak of its roof, relaxing comfortably once he determined that despite the groaning it made it would not collapse beneath his weight. He lowered his wings to his sides, so he could listen to the night around him without distraction.
*** ***
Through the holes in the roof, Sam watched as the Nightshade lowered his frame upon the roof above them. Sam froze, not daring to move, even to breathe, the fear like a grapefruit stuck in his throat. He was terrified that the beast would hear them.
A sound suddenly intruded on the silence, a deep, rhythmic drumming from somewhere close. Sam frantically swung his head around, seeking the source, praying that it wouldn’t draw the Nightshade’s attention. He was surprised to see that Jake seemed to be ignoring it, his attention on the dangerously sagging structure around them, and it took Sam another moment or two of confusion before he realized that the sound was the drumming of his own heart in his ears.
Jake, too, was worried, but for an entirely different reason. For one long moment he had been certain the rotting structure would give way when the beast had landed above, plunging it down into their midst. The roof had held firm, though, and now they were trapped not an arm’s reach from the very creature that was hunting them.
Now what? he asked himself.
He had no ready answer.
A quick glance in Sam’s direction confirmed his worst fears. His friend’s face was drawn and pale from the blood he had lost, his lips blue from the cold. If they didn’t get out of the water soon, Sam would be finished.
He began carefully examining their surroundings. Maybe there was something that could be used as a weapon; something that could hold the creature off long enough for the two of them to climb out onto the shore.
A few minutes were all it took to dash such hopes. There was nothing but water and rotting wood, slick with many years’ accumulation of lake slime.
The boathouse groaned as the beast shifted its weight.
Glancing up in dismay, Jake wondered if the damn thing was going to just hunker down and wait them out.
If it did, the wait wouldn’t be a long one.
Lucky for them, that proved not to be the case.
Moloch didn’t know the prey he sought was scant inches away because the high, thick scent of the marshy shore hid the usually strong scent of the humans and the lapping of the lake against its banks masked any telltale sounds they might make. The rising sun in the east forced Moloch to abandon the chase. He took one last look around the immediate area and then unfurled his great wings. Anger coursed through his veins like quicksilver as the realization struck that the humans had escaped. Never before had such a thing occurred. It was obvious to him that the humans had grown more cunning during the years of his confinement and he vowed not to let them outwit him again. For now, he would return to his haven in the garret across the lake to await the setting of the sun.
It didn’t really matter that they had escaped; they would not go far. When night once again spread its glorious wings across the world, he would find those two humans.
When he did, he would ki
ll them.
Slowly.
With that satisfying thought in mind, Moloch leapt from the roof, a few quick thrusts from his wings carrying him up into the brightening sky and across the lake to the mansion.
*** ***
Beneath the boathouse, Sam’s strength finally gave out. The pain and the cold had taken their toll. With dismay he watched as his fingers lost their grip on the support piling and his body slipped down beneath the surface.
Frantically, Jake grabbed for him, his fingers snaring the folds of Sam’s jacket. He hauled him above the surface and close to his side, keeping Sam’s head above the water through sheer adrenaline-driven strength.
The two of them stared fearfully overhead, every nerve in their bodies tight with anticipation as they waited for the wood above them to splinter beneath the awful force of the creature’s blows, waited for the descending claws to savage their unprotected flesh.
No attack came.
Was it waiting for them to make the next move? To dash out from their protective cover, so it could cut them down in the open?
Still, nothing happened.
"Where is it, Jake?" Sam asked, his fear giving back a little of his energy, enough so that he could cling to the pilings unassisted again.
"I don’t know," Jake whispered in reply. He hung there in the water, listening intently for some small sign that might detect the presence of the beast.
Nothing came to him.
He glanced up at the roof and this time noticed something different.
It was easier to see.
Not by much, but certainly better than it had been several moments before. A gray light was seeping through the holes in the roof, allowing him to make out some details of the structure and to see Sam’s face more clearly.
Had the rising sun driven the creature off, like some vampire out of legend? Or was it now crouched above them, out of sight, trying to fool them into believing it had taken off? Maybe it had left, yet was only circling high above, ready to plunge down as they emerged from the water and stood exposed on the bank?
Riverwatch Page 20
