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 it, when, minutes later, it swept out of the fog only an inch or two above the water, suddenly appearing like a wraith in the night, its claws extended and eager for flesh.
“Look out!” Sam cried, spying the beast, shoving himself backward 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 to heart many of the lessons the Elders had taught them and had spread in numbers Moloch 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 is 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 as to be almost unrecognizable. The Na’Karat had ceased to exist for them.
What are these two doing here?
Moloch was merely curious; the truth mattered 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 river 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 there 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 river, leisurely preparing for another attack. Moloch was in no hurry; the cattle were trapped below, floundering about in the cold waters of the river. Even from far above 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 river’s bottom, fearful of resurfacing, uncertain as to what awaited him above.Did we make it in time? Are razor-sharp claws even now reaching down through the gloom above, ready to rip through my skin, shredding it from my bones? Has Sam gotten away or is his blood staining the water crimson? 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 descent 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.