Dark Rain

by Tony Richards

  All I needed to do, I thought, was strike out for the far side of the river. Except my head seemed to have become rather light. My gaze lost a little of its focus. The pain in my leg …

  Had gone away almost completely. It was not that it had gotten any better. No, the limb was growing increasingly difficult to feel. I started shivering gently.

  How deeply had those claws cut? And if the wound was as bad as I suspected, how much had I already bled out? It was impossible to tell while I was in the water. But I felt my insides lurch.

  Memories came rushing back at me. I’d used to fish this stretch of river with my father, when I’d been a kid. Nightcrawlers and lures, we’d used. He’d had this thing about ‘fly-fishing snobbery.’ And …

  I knew it got much shallower around these parts. The best area – as I recalled – for catching trout.

  I turned over in the current awkwardly, wondering where the Dralleg was by this time. It had disappeared from view again, despite the fact that I could make out the bottom clearly.

  I could see some large rocks in the filtered sunlight. I could make out clumps of flowing weed. There had to be eight feet of water underneath me at the very most. Which made me a far easier target. But I could see no hulking shape at all. No pale green gaze mirrored my own. Where in blazes had the creature gone?

  When my head came back up, I’d been turned around once more and was facing the Iron Bridge, a jet black cobweb in the distance. Some instinct made me look the other way.

  And I remembered it all clearly. My father and I, out for an evening’s fishing. We had waded in the margins, on this section of the river. The central channel, which I was still in, had to be only some five or six feet deep.

  Twenty yards downriver from me, a huge, pale head was emerging. Unable to reach me from the depths, the Dralleg had made its way up there to cut me off. Its enormous shoulders burst free of the surface, water spilling off them. Then its powerful forearms came out, the claws catching the light and shining.

  But there was something else that I could see. As it emerged, the creature blew a huge plume of vapor from its muzzle. And its mouth was hanging open wide. Its ribs were heaving.

  It had stayed down there a good long while, I figured out. But it still had to breathe eventually. And maybe I could use that. How?

  The current became faster still. I was being swept toward the thing.

  Again, I tried to swim away. Except the only thing that really swam was my own head. My insides seemed to turn to Jell-O. I thought I’d be sick. The numbness from my left leg had spread out into my whole lower body. When I tried to kick, it was like trying to pull my limbs through mud, not water.

  How close was I to passing out? I worked my good leg hard, and some sensation returned.

  The flow dragged at me insistently. But I had little strength to fight it. Cassie was going to have to finish this all by herself. I knew that she could, didn’t I?

  The Dralleg’s shape – which kept on blurring – was getting closer every time I blinked. In a few more moments I’d be cut to shreds.

  But there was still some feeling in my arms. And dammit, I wasn’t going out this way. I took a long breath, and then began hauling, breaststroke. At first, nothing seemed to happen. Then I broke free of the pressure on me and began to make some progress to the side.

  The Dralleg let out an enraged wail and came after me, flailing wildly. But we’d entered deeper water before too much longer. I was letting it carry me downstream again.

  I didn’t dare go near the bank anymore, that much was obvious. I doubted I’d even be able to stand up if I reached it. The beast would catch up with me easily, and that would be the end of that. So I kept on paddling uncomfortably till I’d completely passed the shallows, and then headed back for the central drift.

  I took another glance across my shoulder, just in time to watch the Dralleg suck in another lungful of air.

  And then its head went back under.

  FORTY-FOUR

  My head was becoming light again. I shook it, struggling to hold myself together. I was barely paddling at all, just letting the flow carry me. And it was doing that quickly enough.

  But when I swung around a little and looked back, a trail of bubbles was still following me. It seemed to be catching up.

  We were going around a shallow bend. And, once I’d passed it, a strange shape loomed in front of me, breaking up the water and distorting its reflection. I remembered something else.

  I was now looking at what I’d always thought of – in capital letters – as the Fallen Oak. I’d lost more hooks near it than in the rest of this river combined. Around forty feet tall and wide enough around its trunk to take in a couple of automobiles, the massive tree had crashed into the river back when I’d been nine. A colossal storm had torn it from its roots.

  It lay halfway across the Adderneck, at a slight angle. I could still recall how the authorities had tried to pull it out. They’d used tractors, bulldozers, any vehicle that could push or tow. And barely managed to budge it an inch. Its branches had lodged into the riverbed – it wasn’t going anywhere. And as for moving it by magic – it was just a tree, for heaven’s sake. Nobody had even had the nerve to ask the adepts.

  The amazing thing was, after all these years, the thing was still alive. It was half buried in water, so there was a scattering of green leaves on the branches that were not submerged. New shoots pushed out all the time. I’d even seen squirrels and raccoons climbing along it. The tree had made itself a part of the Adderneck, the same way it had once been part of the dry land.

  When I looked back, the bubbles were getting closer. Saruak was nowhere to be seen. He’d perhaps assumed that I was finished, and returned his attention to more important matters. I stared at the oak again.

  I could haul myself up onto it. But I didn’t see what good that would do. The Dralleg would follow me, and it would all be over, just the same way as if I tried to climb the bank.

  I’d been close to fainting not so long ago. But now, I felt slightly revitalized. A second wind? But no. It seemed to be far more than that. More sensation flowed back into my limbs, and it felt like an extra surge of energy had rushed into my body. But I couldn’t tell from where.

  And this wasn’t the moment to start worrying about it. Another notion came to me.

  I swam in toward the side a few yards. Then I halted just short of the protruding branches, treading water, waiting for the bubbles to approach.

  And when they were close enough, I went under myself.

  Another swarm of bubbles frothed around me. I added to them this time, breathing out very gently. If you keep your lungs moving, you can stay under for longer. I had learned that long ago.

  The water was slightly murky here, with a faint brown tinge. Up ahead of me, I could make out the submerged branches. Unlike the ones in the air, they were completely leafless. Weeds and mold had gathered on them. I could make out silvery minnows flitting round.

  When I turned back the other way, there were twin green glimmers moving in toward me. And at first, they looked a good distance away. But then a shape resolved. The Dralleg had to be a few yards from me at the very most.

  I immediately shot up to the surface and took in more air. And then I flipped my one good leg above me, and was heading down toward the bottom.

  I could still see the beast, and it was getting closer all the time. It almost looked at home, down here. Its body was a dim gray shape. Its gaze seemed more iridescent than ever. Its mouth was shut, only the tips of its fangs in view. But its claws were still extended, its arms scything back and forth as it progressed. It was bouncing along with a weightless, easy tread.

  I returned my attention to the sunken half of the great oak. Everywhere I looked, there was a canopy of narrow twigs. No way to get past the thing without clambering out.

  Then a section of the main trunk came in view. It was completely buried in silt. I cursed inwardly, and just kept pushing myself along. It might be p
ointless, but this was my only hope.

  I could almost feel the Dralleg moving in on me. Its great bulk changed the current slightly. I thought that something snatched at my right foot, though it did not take hold. That just made me swim harder.

  I was running out of air by now. My ribs were beginning to ache. If I didn’t find what I was looking for, and soon …

  Something grabbed at my foot again. The sole split, and my shoe fell away.

  And then I saw what I was after. A shallow gap between the tree trunk and the bottom. And it was gravel down there, not silt.

  It didn’t look quite wide enough to let me through. And that had not been the idea. But the creature was still coming up behind me, literally on my heels. And so there was no other direction to take.

  My strength seemed to be failing again. I gathered up the last of it, then drove myself, as fast as I could, toward the opening, my good leg kicking furiously.

  Went underneath. I got stuck for a moment. Chunks of bark had snagged my clothing. There were dozens of twigs grasping at my face.

  I grabbed hold of the trunk with both my hands and hauled. Everything was very tight and painful for a second.

  And then I was bobbing up the other side, water sluicing down across me. I was gasping frantically for breath, but still alive.

  I wiped my eyes clear, stared at the emerging branches.

  They all shivered and then lurched.

  I knew why. The Dralleg had tried to follow me.

  I made it back to shallower water, closer to the bank. Till finally I could prop myself up on one foot, staying upright by moving my arms. I was shivering hard, my teeth chattering. But I kept on watching what was happening now.

  The great tree trunk continued to bump up and down. The branches that still had leaves on quivered, rustled. It seemed to go on for an endless while. The creature was trapped beneath them. The gap had barely been wide enough to allow me through. And for a monster of that size …

  But it kept on trying. At one point, the entire trunk lifted practically a foot out of the current. But its weight was too imposing. The great boughs all dropped back again.

  It was still for a while after that, and I became afraid the Dralleg had either gotten through or had managed to back out. I started hunting for my gun, but I seemed to have lost it.

  The branches started shivering again, more feebly on this occasion. It had to be five minutes, in total, before that movement stopped. And in that time, a freezing chill took over my whole body. I could feel neither of my legs any longer. And my arms and fingertips all ached like crazy.

  I stared at the motionless branches. The thing had to be dead. But I needed to be certain.

  So I balled up what little strength I had left. And then went under for a final look.

  FORTY-FIVE

  It was entirely still. There was not the slightest twitch left in its body, I could see. It had only gotten halfway through, and then become wedged solidly. Its great arms were stretched out in front of it. Without any doubt, it had been scrabbling to escape until the end. And its claws were still in view, but they were rendered harmless now.

  A few large bubbles escaped from its open jaws. I remembered the way the thing had hissed and roared. Down here, there was no sound except the flowing of the Adderneck. The creature had finally been plunged into silence.

  Its eyes were still glowing very faintly. And I wondered if that would ever stop.

  A crawfish scuttled over its left shoulder, and then vanished with a flick of its broad tail.

  I swam in a little closer. It looked almost pathetic, trapped this way. But considering the suffering it had caused, there was nothing in me that felt any pity for it.

  I must have drifted closer in without even noticing it, an eddy towing me along.

  Its right hand suddenly lashed up at me, the claws gashing my forearm. I propelled myself away with shock. When I looked back, the light had gone completely from its eyes. A few silver bubbles were still clinging to its nostrils, that was all.

  But the water around me was becoming stained with red. I was losing even more blood, and I’d already lost enough.

  The current snatched at me again. I let myself drift back up to the surface. But then I recognized the truth. All of the additional strength I’d felt was gone, used up. I barely had enough energy left even to tread water any longer. I simply wasn’t going to make it back to dry land. It all ended here.

  The sky looked very blue, with puffs of white. The coolness of the river seemed to calm me. My head felt extremely light, almost like I was dozing with my eyes wide open. A broader eddy had carried me across toward the other bank. And I was lying on my back in it, just gazing up.

  I drew another breath, and just in time. The water closed back over my face.

  I fought to drag myself up through the surface, trying to use my arms. But I was scarcely able to move them at all, and only half succeeded. The top of my face broke through. I managed to snatch a scrap of air. And then I was sinking again, the water pushing into my skull. My legs were like dead weights, towing me down. The surface of the river looked like a receding mirror.

  It felt like I’d been anchored to a truck. However hard I tried, I couldn’t seem to make my body rise.

  But it wasn’t that. I was simply making extremely slow progress.

  Finally, I felt the crown of my head come out again. I tipped right back and tried to breathe in through my nose. The river hauled me under, for perhaps the final time.

  Fear spread through me. I was staring upward desperately, trying to will myself back up.

  When I felt a hand close around my collar, then start pulling me to the shore.

  I thought I recognized the voice. But I was coughing so furiously that I could barely make it out.

  “Are you all right, sir?”

  I choked and spluttered for another while, then gave up on that in favor of a heavy wheezing sound.

  “Sir?”

  It was Hampton. I managed to get my head around and squinted up the bank. The Silver Shadow was parked higher along it. Then I looked directly up.

  A pair of eyes – one green, one yellow – stared down at me worriedly from a tanned, round face. The question that he’d asked me was still burning in them.

  How to answer? It didn’t matter. I had lost far too much blood, and was in the grip of hypothermia. If nothing happened soon, then I was pretty well done for.

  I was half in and half out of the river, lying in its margins like a piece of driftwood. Crouched above me, Hampton was stripped right down to his underwear and socks. He had forgotten to remove his chauffeur’s cap, which struck me as faintly ludicrous. I glanced past his shoulder at the sun, which was on its way toward the west horizon. It looked to be somewhere around four or five o’ clock.

  Hampton didn’t seem to understand exactly what was going on. He’s a chauffeur, not a doctor, so you couldn’t blame him.

  “Master Raine saw what was happening, and sent me down to help,” he was explaining. “And it’s just as well, I have to say. You look in an awful state.”

  I felt my eyes start to roll back. And then I noticed that the back door of the Rolls was open. That made me cling onto consciousness a little harder. I could make out a lined, gray face, framed by a familiar hat and big dark glasses.

  Hampton glanced in that direction.

  “Dr. Willets asked to come as well.”

  Which was a partial revelation. So he wasn’t as remote from all this as he usually tried to pretend.

  Hampton was inspecting my damaged arm, and looking very puzzled.

  “It’s not even bleeding anymore. Should it be this color?”

  He gave it a gentle twitch.

  “Can you get up, sir?”

  I didn’t think so.

  “You’re so cold. Good Lord, you’re freezing!”

  And then his attention went to my lower body. He rolled up the pants leg as far as he could, then jerked his fingers back.

 
“Good heavens!”

  But I wasn’t even looking at him anymore. Barely clinging on I might be, but I was staring evenly at Willets. He saw most things, I already knew. And he had to understand the dire condition I was in.

  I didn’t even voice the question. Didn’t have the energy. Just kept peering at him, waiting for him to respond. He’d gotten people out of wheelchairs in the old days, hadn’t he? Pulled out tumors? Saved lives?

  The doctor got out of the car in an ungainly fashion, trying to evade my gaze at first. He looked up at the sky, then down. He’d taken off the hat, was fiddling with it, running its soft brim through his fingertips.

  Finally, he looked across, then took a step toward me. There was something like anger – but not quite that – on his face.

  “For God’s sake, Devries!” he shouted. “Do you know what you’re asking of me?”

  I continued watching him, even though he was fading to a silhouette before my very eyes. That wasn’t any magic on his part, I knew. I was finally passing out.

  “This was how it started for me last time. All the madness. All the … dying.”

  I fought to hang on. Pushed open my eyelids, which were starting to slide shut. So you’re going to walk away now? my gaze asked.

  By this time, Hampton was glowering at him too.

  “Sir?” his voice piped up. “Sir, you are a doctor.”

  Not that kind, I knew. But the manservant’s reproachful tone appeared to do the trick.

  Willets’s face was sweating. He wiped it with his palm. He was remembering stuff, I understood that. The faces of those youngsters. And the screams. This had to be a torment for him, yes. But there were larger issues at stake, and he had to acknowledge that too.

  He drew himself up straight at last, his face hardening with determination.

  “Okay, then. Can you hold yourself extremely still?”