Project U.L.F. (26 page)

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The vibrations stopped. The creature shook its head quickly, as if irritated by the sudden absence of the commotion in the water. She was close, but not close enough for her primitive brain to pinpoint the source—and the prey. Slowly, the animal began to execute a lazy turn, periodically swinging her head in an attempt to recover the signal.

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Kate spun to face the others on the shore. “Where is he?” she yelled.

Par shrugged his shoulders and raised his hands in a gesture of mute ignorance.

“We don’t know,” Byron called back to her. “Did he make it off the ship?”

“Yes, he was behind me when the ship went down.” She turned back to look for Wyatt. Still nothing.

She reached out, to begin to swim back to the place where she had last seen him but stopped herself. Her conscience told her she should not give up on him and yet logic told her it would be a wasted effort. She could not even see her hand six inches below the surface of the murky water.

As she clung to the float, in two minds about her course of action, another thought crept into her head. What if Wyatt had been snatched from the surface by a creature of some kind? There was no telling what creations of nature moved below the shimmering surface. What if, even as she thought this, whatever had taken Wyatt was now advancing on her position? Still twenty-five yards from the shore, Kate suddenly felt very afraid.

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Although Wyatt’s only thought was for a mouthful of air, something in his head told him he was rising through the water. The currents that had buffeted him for what seemed like an eternity had now receded.

He lifted his head to where his body told him the surface should be and began to pull himself through the water with his hands.

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The vibrations had started again, but they were behind her now. A different source. Without a second’s hesitation, the creature turned towards the new commotion.

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Among the floating debris there was still no sign of movement. Kate shifted her head in an attempt to see around some of the flotsam that bobbed on the surface, but from her vantage point the effort was futile. Then suddenly Wyatt was there, breaking the surface and rising out of the water to his waist. He seemed to hang there for a while before splashing back into the water.

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Wyatt gasped. A single huge breath. It seemed he felt the cool, crisp air pass down every inch of his windpipe and fill every branch of his lungs. Such a contrast to the stale breath which he had held for so long. So long, in fact, that he could almost imagine that the air had gone rotten inside him and it was this that made his insides burn. He felt like his chest was on fire.

He lay there for a moment, floating on his back on the surface, waiting for the giddiness the sudden rush of oxygen had caused to pass, feeling the cold water around his head. It was the first time he had noticed the temperature of the water since they had abandoned the sinking
Santa Maria
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He lay there staring up at the purple clouds as a flock of highflying creatures passed by. It was an incredibly peaceful moment compared with what he had endured that day, and for an instant, even though he had survived the crash, he wanted it all to end right here. He wanted to stay here forever. He closed his eyes but already someone was calling him.

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In the water somewhere between Wyatt and Kate the creature shook its head again. Again the noises so characteristic of prey in the water had stopped. Again she executed her lazy turn in an attempt to relocate the prey.

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“Wyatt! Wyatt! Are you okay?” the distant voice came.

“I’m fine,” Wyatt said under his breath, “Just fine.”

“Wyatt? Can you hear me? Are you all right?”

He sighed. He was going to have to move. He let his legs fall and adopted an upright position in the water. “I’m okay,” he called back to the worried party, who he could now see was Kate.

“Do you need any help?” she asked, “Shall I come back to you?”

“No, I’m fine really. You go on,” he said, gesturing with his hand. “I just need to catch my breath.”

Kate nodded and turned away, striking out once more for the shore.

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The noise started to come from the original source again. The creature, now halfway through its turn, picked it up immediately. The source was directly in front of her.

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Wyatt collected himself and then looked about for his pack before remembering that it had been lost and was now somewhere far below him. Annoyed at its loss but also semi-grateful for the lack of a burden, he struck out for the shore, purposefully swimming arm over arm.

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The creature slowed in the water. What it had not registered before, its brain told it now. There were two signals. Two sources. One in front, the second directly behind her. The first was stronger. Closer. So she began to swim again. Forward and into shallower water.

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“I’d appreciate a little help, if it’s not too much trouble,” Kate could just about muster as she frantically kicked to speed herself to the shore.

The going was slow through the water, especially since she was still wearing the U.L.F. issue boots which now felt like weights on the ends of her legs. She had thought about kicking them off as soon as she had got into the water but had then remembered that they were the only footwear she had and the thought of going barefoot indefinitely did not appeal.

Spurred into action, Byron and Par both ran to her aid, Par falling in with a splash when his legs, slowed by the water, could no longer match the speed of his body.

Byron reached her first and relieved her of her float with her pack, the weapons and Furball all balanced precariously on top. With his free hand he clasped her arm and guided her back with him. Par then took her free arm to let Byron concentrate on getting the float and its precious cargo safely onto dry land.

“You should be able to touch bottom now,” Par said to her.

She turned to face him and could see that he was clearly standing on the bottom, his broad shoulders clearing the surface by inches. She looked up at his face. The dirty water had done nothing to tarnish the brilliant blonde of his short hair, and his eyes, normally so piercingly blue, seemed somehow cooler. Less intense. She wished the water she found herself chest deep in now were the same color.

“You’re okay now,” he said, accompanying the statement with a disarming smile and she believed him. She would have believed anything he had said at that moment. She liked Par, she concluded.

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The animal stopped again. The vibrations coming from in front of her had suddenly intensified. She was wary. She could be being led into a trap by a pack of animals, some of which had already given away their presence. She would also make an easy target if she became stranded in the shallow water. Her survival instinct presided over her curiosity and she turned away. There was a second signal to investigate, and that was in deeper water.

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On the shore, Chris stood holding the bag of synthetic blood high, using gravity as an ally to get the red liquid into Bobby’s body in the shortest possible time. He had to admit, she was looking better than when Byron had first helped her out of the water. She was unconscious but stable and Chris was less concerned with her current status than with the fever that she would undoubtedly contract in the next few days. He had no idea as to the nature of the infection and only hoped the cocktail of antibiotics he had given her could at least reduce the severity of her symptoms.

He was relieved to see that Kate was safe. Byron was already hauling the float up the slight incline of the shore, dragging it through the mud so that it left a slight track in its wake. Par and Kate were now waist deep in water, Kate with one arm around Par’s shoulders and Par with one arm around Kate’s waist. They seemed to be holding each other up as they splashed their way towards the mud flat. As he watched them, Chris’ attention was suddenly caught by a disturbance in the water about ten yards behind the pair. A slight ripple and then a large swirl as something shifted and a vast amount of water moved. He didn’t know whether to call out to alert Par and Kate or to stay quiet. They were almost home and there was probably no danger to them. He didn’t want to panic anyone unnecessarily. Besides, it was probably his eyes playing tricks on him. They had all been through a lot and he’d taken a knock on the head. He still had the lump to prove it. He reached up to remind himself of it. Yes, it was still quite tender. Regardless, Chris looked across at Kit for verification. He was surprised to see the big man looking back at him with the same question in his eyes.
Did you see that?
Yes. Kit had seen it too. The big man smiled and looked away and Chris returned his attention to the lake. Wyatt was still out there. Shit! Wyatt was still out there. He realized now why Kit had smiled. Kit was not going to alert anyone to the danger. He could not care less what happened to Wyatt. Wyatt was the only person keeping Kit in line at the moment and there was no love lost between the pair of them.

“Byron,” Chris said quietly.

Byron lay on his back breathing heavily, the container dumped between his spread-eagled legs, exactly as it had fallen. The back of his hand covered most of his face.

“What?” he said without even looking up.

“Ahem. Byron,” Chris said again.

Byron took his hand away and craned his head around to look at Chris.