Riverwatch (25 page)

Jake wasn’t buying all that, however. "There’d still be something left, Sam. Some reference, some clue that they’d been there before us."

"But there is, Jake! What’s the one constant myth that can be found in hundreds of cultures? The myth of a great and shining civilization destroyed by some tremendous cataclysm in the earliest days of recorded history. Atlantis."

"Can’t you see it, Jake? Those last violent days, as the race you’ve nurtured grows into adolescence while your own dwindles into its final days, your ranks and those of your enemies diminished beyond recovery by centuries of warfare?"

Sam began pacing back and forth across an exposed portion of the Rock, no longer, hiding, completely in view should anyone be looking in their direction.

Knowing that in his excitement Sam had forgotten what they were doing here and their need to remain undetected, Jake turned to tell him to shut up and sit down.

The words froze on his lips.

From over Sam’s shoulder, Jake could see a long, dark shape diving out of the night, its form darker than the darkness it descended from, silhouetted in the light of the stars it blotted from view.

The sight shocked Jake into immobility.

Down, down it came, traveling dozens of feet in seconds, hurtling toward its target, Sam’s unprotected back.

Jake tried to yell, tried to scream, to break the paralysis that gripped him, as raw, undiluted fear squeezed his heart like a vice and threatened to shut down his nervous system. Yet still he couldn’t move, couldn’t warn his friend of death approaching from the night sky above.

Everything seemed to happen at once.

A sharp, shrill shriek filled the air, as the Nightshade gave voice to the sheer pleasure and anticipation of the kill to come.

Sam spun around and looked up, seeing for the first time that dark shape hurtling towards him.

The moon reflected off the claws of the beast’s outstretched talons as they prepared to rip and tear into its prey.

Jake’s paralysis broke.

He reacted without conscious thought; his body sideways without a word, his legs extended out before him in a wild kick with all the weight of his six foot frame behind it.

His ankles struck Sam’s legs at a point just above his knees, knocking his friend’s legs out from under him, throwing him into an uncontrolled fall that forced him right over the edge of the Rock toward the water below.

With a sharp cry, Sam disappeared from view.

Knowing he had scant seconds to escape, Jake wasted no time in thinking about his response. He simply let his body continue the arc it had begun, throwing himself sideways and following Sam off the edge.

One moment the solid surface of the Rock was beneath him, the next he was falling through space. The drop seemed to last forever, until with a sudden impact he plunged into the icy waters of the Quinnepeg.

The fall took him deep, and the cold of the water seemed to suck the air straight out of his lungs. He frantically fought to the surface, feeling the weight of his wet clothes trying to drag him under, and he gasped with relief when his head broke clear of the water.

He found Sam coughing up a mouthful of water just a few feet away.

"You okay?" Jake asked him.

"Yeah."

"I guess we found it," Jake said weakly.

Sam chose not to reply.

Jake was about to continue when a whistling sound alerted him to the oncoming danger.

"Down!" he cried, not even bothering to look up, instinctively knowing that what he heard was the sound caused by the rush of air over the surface of the Nightshade’s wings as it plunged toward them from above.

Jake dove again, dove deep to evade those deadly claws that plunged into the lake in search of his tender flesh. He struck out for shore at the same time, heading in that direction, hoping that the Nightshade’s eyesight wasn’t sharp enough to see him beneath the water in the darkness. He planned to come to the surface a fair distance from where he’d gone under, hoping it would buy him enough time to figure out how to get out of this situation.

Jake stayed down as long as he could, until his lungs were screaming for oxygen and he knew beyond a shadow of a doubt that he couldn’t hold out another moment.

He broke the surface of the water some thirty-five yards from where he’d gone under, having covered two-thirds of the distance to the other bank.

A quick, frantic look above told him the sky was empty for the time being.

It was a blessing, though there was no telling how long it would last.

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 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.

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.