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.
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
