Riverwatch

Chapter Thirty: Riverwatch Again

Sam awoke to a hand gently shaking his shoulder. In the dim light he could see Jake standing over the bed. "Time to go," his friend said.

Sam nodded to show he understood.

As Jake disappeared back into the living room, Sam swung his legs out of bed and quickly dressed. A passing glance at the clock told him it was 4:00 a.m.

He slipped out of the bedroom and moved down the hall to find Jake waiting silently by the front door. Loki stood beside him, but Jake indicated to the dog that he was to stay and the Akita complied. Sam nodded that he was ready, and the two of them left the house and climbed into the Jeep.

They had settled on a simple plan. The two of them would climb the Rock, a tall outcropping of Stone that overlooked the Quinnepeg River and set up a watch. As the highest place in town, and one that overlooked the Riverwatch mansion, it seemed a logical place to start. All of the attacks had been at night, under the cover of darkness. This had led the two of them to hypothesize that the beast either chose not to be out and about during the daylight or could not. Either way, it would attempt to return to its hiding place before the sun came up. The Rock’s height gave them the best possible chance of spotting it in the air and there was always the possibility that it might actually be hiding in Riverwatch, despite the search the police had made of the premises earlier. Jake and Sam intended to be on the Rock before then, so that they would have the opportunity to see it when it returned. That would give them an idea of what they were up against.

After that, they’d figure out the rest of the plan.

For his part, Sam found himself now wondering just what the hell they thought they were doing. He didn’t doubt for an instant that this creature really existed. He’d seen enough in the last several days to convince him of that. He also knew just what horrible acts of violence the beast was capable of committing, and yet, here he was actively going to seek the thing out, to discover where it lived. His anger had cooled slightly and this gave him some perspective on the situation. Katelynn had been right. They had to be nuts to try a stunt like this. This thing could kill them without batting an eye. He turned to voice his opinion to Jake, when his friend said, "We’re here."

Sam glanced out the window as Jake pulled the Jeep over and parked it on the side of the road. From where Sam sat, the woods seemed to extend for miles out from the road, though he knew that just a few hundred yards away they suddenly dropped off at the edge of the Quinnepeg River. Next to the shoreline loomed the Rock, though they couldn’t see it from the street.

"I don’t know about this anymore, Jake. It seems kind of crazy to me."

Jake wasn’t pleased. "I thought we agreed."

"We did." Sam agreed. "It’s just the rest of the plan that bothers me. Sure, we might actually see this thing, but then what? What happens if it discovers we’re up here? Have you thought of that? Gabriel didn’t give us information on how to stop the Nightshade. I don’t particularly like the idea of trying to fight it off with my bare hands!"

"It’s not going find us." Jake said as he climbed out of the Jeep, looking back in through the open door. "We’ll be hidden in the trees, well out of sight. All we’ve got do is hang around long enough to see if it’s still in the mansion, and then we’ll get the hell out of here and call in some help."

"Like who?" Sam wanted to know, making no move to get out of the car.

"How the hell should I know?" Jake replied in exasperation, and shut the door in Sam’s face.

Sam watched as Jake crossed to the other side of the road, stepped over the old stonewall that lay crumbling at the edge of the trees, and disappeared into the darkness on the other side.

The silence that settled on the Jeep in his passing seemed to weigh heavily on Sam. Fear had come to replace the anger he felt earlier when they’d decided on this course of action and seemed to settle about his shoulders like a wet cloak. Being alone in the dark was not the best idea at the moment. Should he stay here, and hope the Nightshade didn’t see him hiding in the car, or join Jake and pray it never looked in their direction? Neither alternative held that much appeal to him. It only took him another second to make up his mind.

Sam opened his door and got out of the Jeep. "Hey, Jake!" he hissed into the darkness. "Wait up!"

Ten minutes later they were settled in on the top of the Rock, doing their best to blend in with the landscape. The stone they sat upon was wet with the evening’s condensation, and its coldness quickly sapped the heat from their bones. The wind whistled lightly through the trees around them, rustling the leaves, sounding like voices calling out to them from the darkness. Below, a thick fog lay a few inches above the water, swirling about in the light breeze like ghosts dancing in the night. None of this made Sam feel any better about his decision to leave the Jeep.

Sam glanced out over the water. From where they sat the tall spires of Riverwatch were clearly visible in the light of the moon. It was there that they suspected the Nightshade had been hiding since the most recent killings.

They sat quietly in the darkness, ignoring their discomfort, lost in their own thoughts until Sam broke the silence about half an hour into their watch.

"I think I have it figured out."

In the dim light Sam could see Jake’s head turn toward him. "Have what figured out?"

"Why there’s been no evidence of Gabriel’s version of history."

"Why’s that?"

"Because mankind just hasn’t recognized it for what it was when we saw it."

Jake chuffed, a trait he’d probably picked up from Loki. "Run that by me again."

"Think about it. If these things were supposed to have had their own civilization like Gabriel said, there should be some kind of physical record of their existence, right? I mean, if we can find evidence of man’s earliest ancestors walking across the plains of Africa, then there should be some clues left behind that these two great races inhabited the world before we did. Hell, Gabriel even bragged about the Elders’ great cities. Why isn’t there any evidence of them?

Jake pondered this for a moment. "Beats me."

"Maybe there is evidence. Think about it, Jake. How many unexplained coincidences and unsolved mysteries are there concerning the ancient world? Hundreds, right?" Sam’s voice started to rise in excitement.

"So?" replied Jake. He wasn’t sure where Sam was going with this. "And lower your voice, will you?" he added irritably.

"I’m talking about hard, substantive evidence that Gabriel’s story of the Age of Creation is true. Evidence that’s always been right under our noses, we just didn’t recognize it."

"Like what?"

"Like who built the statues on Easter Island, for instance. They’ve stood there for centuries, yet no one knows one iota about the people who built them or why they were built in the first place."

Jake stared at his friend in disbelief, though the darkness prevented Sam from seeing his expression. "That’s your evidence? A bunch of lousy statues no one knows who built is your proof that some highly developed civilization ruled the earth before we did? Don’t you think that’s pushing things?"

"But that’s just it, Jake. It’s not the only evidence. It is just one example. There are others just like it. Look at the pyramids. Even today, with all of our modern technology, we still couldn’t replicate even one of those pyramids and get it as mathematically precise as the Egyptians did, and they used only their hands. And what about the Mayans and the Incas? Two incredibly advanced civilizations with both a spoken and written alphabet long before our ancestors in Europe had learned the value of writing. Both groups also had enough respect for geometry and astronomy to create a calendar that many argue is even more accurate than the one we use today. How else could they have done it, Jake, if not with a little help from someone else, like the Elders?"

Jake was interested now. Sam was actually making some sense. He remembered such theories had been evoked in the past, though they usually revolved around some extraterrestrial intelligence landing in flying saucers for a neighborly visit. Such ideas had always been scoffed at, with valid reason, in Jake’s opinion. But Sam’s idea struck a little closer to home. A prehistoric, intelligent race of "others," for lack of a better term, was just as good a theory as any other for explaining how man had managed to rise from naked, bestial savagery in such a short period of time, if you looked at things on the cosmic scale. It seemed impossible for them to have done it on their own. Jake turned back to stare out into the night, pondering this new twist.

Sam’s mind was still going a mile a minute, as he sought to collect his thoughts into a coherent argument. Everything suddenly made sense, and one simple answer could explain hundreds of mysteries.

"But why don’t we have any relics, any ruins, from these people? Every other civilization has left something behind, some record of the past, why not this one?" asked Jake.

"There wouldn’t necessarily be any ruins left. It’s the way they did things back then. Look at Troy, for God’s sake. That’s a perfect example. By the time Heidelmann actually found the place, he found not one city, but twenty-two cities, each one built on the ruins of the others, the materials of the former scavenged to form the building blocks of the next. Maybe that’s why some of the earliest human establishments were built where they were; they were building on the ruins of the civilization they remembered of old."

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.

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 across the water, Moloch swept toward the remains of a small structure against the shoreline and settled tentatively atop the peak of its roof, relaxing comfortably once he determined that despite the groaning it made it would not collapse beneath his weight. He lowered his wings to his sides, so he could listen to the night around him without distraction.

Through the holes in the roof, Sam watched as the Nightshade lowered his frame upon the roof above them. Sam froze, not daring to move, even to breathe, the fear like a grapefruit stuck in his throat. He was terrified that the beast would hear them.

A sound suddenly intruded on the silence, a deep, rhythmic drumming from somewhere close. Sam frantically swung his head around, seeking the source, praying that it wouldn’t draw the Nightshade’s attention. He was surprised to see that Jake seemed to be ignoring it, his attention on the dangerously sagging structure around them, and it took Sam another moment or two of confusion before he realized that the sound was the drumming of his own heart in his ears.

Jake, too, was worried, but for an entirely different reason. For one long moment he had been certain the rotting structure would give way when the beast had landed above, plunging it down into their midst. The roof had held firm, though, and now they were trapped not an arm’s reach from the very creature that was hunting them.

Now what? he asked himself.

He had no ready answer.

A quick glance in Sam’s direction confirmed his worst fears. His friend’s face was drawn and pale from the blood he had lost, his lips blue from the cold. If they didn’t get out of the water soon, Sam would be finished.

He began carefully examining their surroundings. Maybe there was something that could be used as a weapon; something that could hold the creature off long enough for the two of them to climb out onto the shore.

A few minutes were all it took to dash such hopes. There was nothing but water and rotting wood, slick with many years’ accumulation of lake slime.

The boathouse groaned as the beast shifted its weight.

Glancing up in dismay, Jake wondered if the damn thing was going to just hunker down and wait them out.

If it did, the wait wouldn’t be a long one.

Lucky for them, that proved not to be the case.

Moloch didn’t know the prey he sought was scant inches away because the high, thick scent of the marshy shore hid the usually strong scent of the humans and the lapping of the lake against its banks masked any telltale sounds they might make. The rising sun in the east forced Moloch to abandon the chase. He took one last look around the immediate area and then unfurled his great wings. Anger coursed through his veins like quicksilver as the realization struck that the humans had escaped. Never before had such a thing occurred. It was obvious to him that the humans had grown more cunning during the years of his confinement and he vowed not to let them outwit him again. For now, he would return to his haven in the garret across the lake to await the setting of the sun.

It didn’t really matter that they had escaped; they would not go far. When night once again spread its glorious wings across the world, he would find those two humans.

When he did, he would kill them.

Slowly.

With that satisfying thought in mind, Moloch leapt from the roof, a few quick thrusts from his wings carrying him up into the brightening sky and across the lake to the mansion.

Beneath the boathouse, Sam’s strength finally gave out. The pain and the cold had taken their toll. With dismay he watched as his fingers lost their grip on the support piling and his body slipped down beneath the surface.

Frantically, Jake grabbed for him, his fingers snaring the folds of Sam’s jacket. He hauled him above the surface and close to his side, keeping Sam’s head above the water through sheer adrenaline-driven strength.

The two of them stared fearfully overhead, every nerve in their bodies tight with anticipation as they waited for the wood above them to splinter beneath the awful force of the creature’s blows, waited for the descending claws to savage their unprotected flesh.

No attack came.

Was it waiting for them to make the next move? To dash out from their protective cover, so it could cut them down in the open?

Still, nothing happened.

"Where is it, Jake?" Sam asked, his fear giving back a little of his energy, enough so that he could cling to the pilings unassisted again.

"I don’t know," Jake whispered in reply. He hung there in the water, listening intently for some small sign that might detect the presence of the beast.

Nothing came to him.

He glanced up at the roof and this time noticed something different.

It was easier to see.

Not by much, but certainly better than it had been several moments before. A gray light was seeping through the holes in the roof, allowing him to make out some details of the structure and to see Sam’s face more clearly.

Had the rising sun driven the creature off, like some vampire out of legend? Or was it now crouched above them, out of sight, trying to fool them into believing it had taken off? Maybe it had left, yet was only circling high above, ready to plunge down as they emerged from the water and stood exposed on the bank?

As he debated the question, the light coming in through the roof grew discernibly brighter and in the end it was this fact that Jake used to make his decision. Jake decided that if the beast were still on the roof waiting for them, then the light would in some way be blocked by its bulk. At the very least, it would throw a shadow that they would be able to see. Therefore, the creature must have taken to the air. If that was true, and they moved quickly, they might just be able to get out and onto solid ground before it attacked.

It was only a slim chance, sure, but it was all they had.

Jake hoped they could pull it off.

He explained his idea to Sam, who by know was too weak to protest even if he’d wanted to. Jake slipped his arms under Sam’s and around his chest.

"All right," he said to his friend, "a quick breath, then down we go. I’ll do all the work, you just hold on. Okay?"

Sam nodded.

"I’ll get us to the surface. Once we’re there, get yourself another deep breath, just in case that thing is waiting for us and we need to dive again. If we do, I’ll get us back here under cover and we’ll think of something else."

Jake paused, looked Sam over, and then said, "Are you sure you can do this?"

"Let’s do it already."

Behind him, expression hidden from view, Jake smiled.

Maybe they’d get out of this alive after all.

Breathing a silent prayer that the beast had truly left, Jake said, "Okay. One. Two. Three."

Each took a deep breath and they dove.