Burial Ground

IV

11:13 p.m.

Galen watched Sam and Merritt disappear into the cloud mere feet ahead of him. He didn't have to look back to know that the flock was right on his heels. Their cries were so close they were deafening.

Two more strides.

The splash below cleared a section of the mist. It was a fifteen-foot drop to the river, but fortunately, no sharp crests of stone broke the surface. He couldn't see the others. The river was flowing so fast that they could be half a mile away by now.

One more stride.

A shriek right behind his head.

Galen dove into the mist toward the grumbling rapids. With a deep breath, he braced for impact with the frigid water.

Bolts of searing pain in the backs of his legs.

The snap of a bear trap over his right flank.

Teeth lanced through flesh, jerking, tearing.

He cartwheeled through the air, no longer certain of which way was up.

A ribbon of blood unspooled from his side.

He opened his mouth to scream---

The force of the weight on his back knocked the wind out him when they struck the unforgiving surface of the river. It returned with a lungful of water.

Talons slashed.

Teeth ripped.

Panic preceded the jolt when he struck the rocky bottom.