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"Carlos—"
His mind stuttered, trying to find the right words, something brave and reassuring, and couldn't. Finally he just held her, saying again, "I love you."
He left her. He climbed down again and examined her perch. Bobbi couldn't be seen from below. Not seen, but what about smell?
The first stop was the rock that had gashed her leg. It was bloodstained, and he searched until he found a fist-sized stone. He pounded at the spur until it shattered. He scooped up the fragments and flung them as far as he could.
There was no guarantee that his ploy would work, but one thing he knew for certain: he had to make a stronger scent trail for it to follow.
He did it the only way that he could, thankful that there was still fluid in his bladder, enough to leave a trail from beneath the bloodstained rock well to the right, away from Bobbi.
He began to climb.
He was quickly blowing for air. How long had it been since the crash?
Twenty minutes? It seemed an eternity. But the Skeeter would be coming! We lived longer than I thought we would. He was up the grade above Bobbi now, and he saw that she had crawled farther between the rocks. Good girl.
Now he was high enough on the cliff to see down into the river. There was the blood slick where Elliot had met the rocks. Beyond were limp black fabric and boat fragments at the river turn. To the south, there was nothing but the rushing river. Where were the rescue Skeeters?
Where was--?
Oh, Jesus.
There was a movement in the water, and something moved up out of it, as steady and inexorable as a Titan, some god of the fishy depths. Carlos cried out reflexively.
It was the same as the first creature, only larger, half again as large, and fleshier. It paused as if getting its bearings, then stared right at him—
For one crazy, shameful instant he thought. Let it have Bobbi. Let it have anything.
Then it blurred, as if shot from the water by compressed air. It crossed the rocks, paused for an instant, then took off again, cutting an angular trail up toward the wall—paused and exploded into a series of zigzags that was like nothing so much as a crazy pinball game, then hit the wall and ran almost straight up at him.
Carlos tried to close his eyes, to wait in darkness for a swift and terrible death, but didn't have time. It was, it was—
It shot right past him and kept going until it perched on a rock shelf halfway between him and the top of the mesa.
The creature crouched above him. It ignored Carlos entirely as it sca
What was it looking for? More boats? Whatever it was doing, it wasn't watching Carlos.
It can move. Faster than anything I have ever seen. Faster than anything I have ever heard of. I can't outrun it. It must have seen me, but it doesn't act like it. Maybe—
The cliff was steep. A fall would kill him. Better that than the monster, he thought, but he couldn't make himself believe it enough to jump. He made his hands stop trembling, reached down, found a handhold, tested it. It was firm. He lowered himself a few inches, found a new hold, and—
The creature snarled: a high-pitched scream like a drill biting into metal. Carlos looked up into its vast dark disklike eyes. The message in them was unmistakable: Where the fuck do you think you're going?
"Ah, nowhere," he muttered under his breath. The creature watched him for another few seconds, then turned away.
Carlos pressed himself into the rock wall. Between terror and confusion, he couldn't guess what his next move might be. But what does it think it's doing? Is it crazy? A crazy thought, indeed. Carlos laughed, and it turned to look at him, and the laugh stuck jaggedly in his throat. It went back to sca
At the shore was injured prey, dying. Two more prey were climbing the cliff, characteristically clumsy. The enemy must regard these as hers. Mama pla
Challenge. Mama charged across the water, straight at the feebly moving prey. Her jaw clamped on its hind leg. She dived beneath the froth, released the meat at once and swam for her life. Three seconds later she surfaced far downstream, to watch her enemy come to reclaim stolen meat.
The corpse tumbled unmolested. Her enemy was too clever, far too clever for one so young.
Of the two other prey, one had disappeared. The last was halfway up the cliff.
Mama studied the cliff. It wasn't sheer, but the thought of being stranded there while something came at her was one she rejected at once . ...nd retrieved, and toyed with.
She could see most of the cliff, and no danger showed there. Her enemy might be in the water or at the top of the cliffs. She never doubted it was watching.
There were footholds along the cliff. Take any path too fast and she might be stranded in midair, falling toward waiting jaws. Motionless in white froth, with only her eyes showing, Mama chose her path.
Then she moved. Across the seething water. Up along cracks in the rock, now quick, now slow, dancing her route, ready to face death with her footing firm. In seconds she was halfway up the cliff, poised on a ledge above live prey.
Challenge. Come and get what's yours!
Chapter 17
RESCUE
No man quite believes in any other man.
H. L. MENCKEN, Prejudices
"But what could have happened?" Zack demanded.
Cadma
"Yeah, sure—how can you be so calm?"
"I'm not, but what's the use of getting excited until there's something to do?"
"Yeah. You're right." Zack took a deep breath. "Those walls are pretty. Like the Australian outback. Ever go there?"
"No, the U.N. never needed soldiers out there."
"It was a rock. Cadma
"A rock that got two boats?"
"Why not? And we don't know that Elliot's boat is gone—"
"Like hell we don't." Cadma
"You saw. I ran the tape and I didn't see what you saw."
"Oh, maybe I didn't see it either. There was something. Something dark in the water near Carlos's raft, something that I swear was moving across the current... well, no, I won't swear." Cadma
"Here," Stu Ellington answered.
"We're coming up to the bend. You go right across the canyon, down to the rapids, and turn back. We'll start the search at the upstream end."
"Roger. Goddam, I'm glad you're with us."
"Me too," Zack said carefully. "I'm still hoping we don't find—"
"Nobody had to remind you to bring your rifle. And damned if that spare clip doesn't look loaded with incendiaries."
Zack grunted. "I'm not going to be stupid about it."
Skeeter Two rounded the bend ahead. Cadma
Cadma