Black Dawn

them?

Something hit that was harder than just a raindrop, with a sharp crack, and Claire twisted around to look behind them. There was a draug crouched on the trunk lid, leering in at them, its face smearing and running in the rain. It had a thick chunk of brick in its hand, and slammed it against the back window a second time.

Claire saw the spiderweb fracture form in the safety glass.

“Brake!” she yelled. Hannah didn’t hesitate; she hit them hard, sending the front end of the car diving down and the heavily loaded back up, and the draug lost its balance. It rolled forward over the roof, over the front windshield, onto the hood, and suddenly turned liquid and re-formed facing back toward them, snarling.

Hannah hit reverse. It tumbled off into the roiling water in the road with a splash, sank, and was gone. She quickly put the car into drive again, but the next intersection was as bad as the one they’d tried to avoid. There was no telling how deep the water was, but from the current down the middle that Claire could see rippling, it was dangerous.

So was staying in one place. There were more of the draug, and they’d be here soon.

“Got to chance it,” Hannah muttered. “It’ll be no better on the other streets. This dip runs right through town.” It had been part of the original urban planning, Claire thought; they never got much rain. It was supposed to be clever.

Not so much, now.

She grabbed for Shane’s hand and held it tight as Hannah eased the cruiser into the intersection. The front tires rolled downward. The muddy, fast-moving water rippled around the bumper as it submerged. Then it rose along the sides of the car.

“It’s too deep,” Shane said.

“It’s too late. We’re committed,” Hannah said. She kept the accelerator pressed down, neither accelerating nor braking, and the brown water splashed up onto the hood.

Over it.

It was leaking into the door next to Shane. Just a little, but enough to freak Claire out. It can’t be this deep, she thought. It can’t drown us. But it didn’t have to. All it needed to do was drown out the engine. Improbably enough, it hadn’t yet. The cruiser was still running, still rolling relentlessly forward through the draug-infested water. Maybe cop cars were built tougher than hearses and vampmobiles.

They hit the bottom of the dip with a little jolt that sent waves of ripples out, and the water sloshed up on the windshield, leaving a thin, silver, unclean film behind it … and then Claire felt a strong rush of water against Shane’s side of the car, and the car began to slip sideways.

“No, no, no,” Hannah chanted under her breath. She pushed the gas, just a little, and the tires caught pavement and began to climb up. The water seemed to hold it back, not just in terms of mass but really holding on, clinging. Claire’s breath felt hot and ragged in her chest, and she felt utterly terrified and helpless.

Nothing she could do. Nothing any of them could do, except Hannah, and if she made one wrong move, the car would go spinning into the current, carried away.

But she kept hold of it, nudging the gas in careful increments and pushing the cruiser up. The water level fell. The hood broke the surface, and then the bumper, and then they were up and through and moving fast.

Behind them, the current kept roaring, getting stronger. No other cars were going to make it through there. Not right now, anyway.

Richard reached over, took Hannah’s free hand in his, and raised it to his lips. “That,” he said, “was world- class calm.”

“That was luck,” she corrected, but flashed him a brilliant and very personal smile, just the same. “And I was freaking the hell out inside.”

“Cold as ice, that’s my girl.”

“Shut up,” she said, but she sounded pleased. And then she remembered they weren’t alone in the car, and cleared her throat.

Myrnin said, in a weary tone, “I could sincerely not care less who in this town is carrying on secret affairs just now, so please, declare your impassioned desires or be quiet. All of you.”

It was a very quiet drive.

Six blocks later, it all changed. They were within sight of Founder’s Square’s lights, even though they were difficult to see through the smear of pouring rain; the constant hammering of drops on the roof had made Claire wonder if she was going deaf. But there was just barely enough visibility to see the open-bed pickup truck that charged through the intersection, heading at right angles to Founder’s Square. It missed hitting the front bumper of the police cruiser by a couple of feet, maybe, and skidded out of control on the wet pavement, going way too fast.

And then it hit the curb, and flipped over twice, shedding metal and glass and making a shrieking noise that was clear even over the roar of the rain.

Hannah didn’t hesitate. She turned the patrol car toward the wreck, pulled as close as she could, and yelled, “Stay inside, all of you!” Then she grabbed a yellow rain slicker with a hood, put it on, and plunged out into the storm.

Richard found another raincoat and joined her.

Claire and Shane and Myrnin were locked into the back, like criminals, and Michael sensibly decided to stay where he was, since there wasn’t another rain slicker available. Shane tried his door handle, but not in a way that meant he was seriously trying to jump out.

Myrnin didn’t bother. He sat in cold silence for a while, and then said, “This is taking too long. We can’t afford the distraction.”

“People are hurt,” Claire said. “It’s Hannah’s job to help them.”

“It’s foolish,” he said flatly. “More will die every second we delay. If we allow the draug to play this game, we’ll lose. Horribly. Get her back inside.”

“Great idea!” Shane muttered. “Why don’t you go take a dip in the pool, man?”

“I am not your man,” Myrnin hissed back. “What pool are you talking about?”

“Hey!” Claire held out both palms, symbolically shoving them apart. “Enclosed space. Let’s all get along.”

“It’s taking too long,” Myrnin said.

And he was right.

CHAPTER FOURTEEN HANNAH

I told them not to get out of the car. I was reasonably certain that the three in the backseat would obey; Shane, strong as he was, didn’t have the leverage or the insanity to break out, and Claire, regardless of any intentions, didn’t stand any chance. Myrnin wouldn’t want to. I could see it in his face.

But Michael … Michael worried me. I could only hope that he wouldn’t play the hero.

I knew Richard probably would.

I kept my attention focused on them, at least part of the time, as I raced across to the wrecked truck.

There were men down, four or five of them. Two were dead. I could tell that at a glance; they’d been thrown clear of the rolling truck, and the damage was done. I left them and went for the others who were still moving, however weakly.

One had a badly broken arm, and a gushing scalp wound, but he was awake and more or less focused. He reached up and caught a fistful of my yellow raincoat. “Get them out of here,” he said. “Goddamn water vampires were on us. Couldn’t get anywhere safe. Get my men out of here.”

I blinked. It was the human resistance leader of Morganville, Captain Obvious. He’d taken over the role of vampire-hating rebel leader when the last Captain Obvious had been killed, and he was good at it because he’d