Wait Until Dark (16 page)

"Get 'em, get 'em, get 'em, get 'em!" Woz howled. Charlie barely heard him over the odd roaring in her ears.

Ahead of her, Jake suddenly stopped, and jerked her up beside him. His hand gripped hers tighter than ever even as her free arm windmilled for balance. Looking ahead, Charlie saw to her horror that they teetered on the brink of a cliff. Some twenty feet below, pushing deep into undercut banks, was a shining black ribbon of rushing water: the Cumberland, Charlie guessed.

No wonder she'd heard a roaring in her ears.

In that instant she realized what he meant to do. Charlie tried to back up, shaking her head in protest

"I can't—" she began, even as he growled, "Jump!"

She had no choice. He leaped with a death grip on her hand, and, willy-nilly, she went with him as bullets peppered the place where, seconds before, they had stood. Charlie fell like a stone, plummeting through the darkness, limbs flailing as she completed what she had been going to say in a hapless wail.

"—swim!"

6

CHARLIE BELLY FLOPPED
with a tremendous splash. Cold dark water closed around her, blinding her, choking her, shooting up her nose, filling her mouth. The shock of submersion galvanized her. Shutting her mouth with a snap, Charlie fought for all she was worth, kicking and thrashing against the life-stealing depths. Still she tumbled like a sock in a washing machine, helpless in this element that had terrified her from the moment she'd fallen into a neighbor's swimming pool as a five-year-old and nearly drowned. That time, just as she'd given up hope, she'd seen an angel, a lovely winged angel dressed all in white, and heard a heavenly chorus sing.

This time there was a big black shape rising like a giant bat beside her and a sudden vicious yank on her arm. She felt as if it was being wrenched from its socket as she was hauled ruthlessly upward. Seconds later her head broke the surface, and she gasped for air.

"Help!" she croaked, or tried to croak, but icy water spewed from her mouth like flow from a fountain as she struggled madly to keep her head up. Her own saturated hair blinded her and she still had trouble breathing because of all the water she was coughing up. Then she was once again sinking, slipping back down into the liquid abyss that terrified her more than anything in life. Despite her frantic efforts her head went under. She fought the amorphous enemy like a wild thing, kicking and clawing to no avail, only to find herself dragged to the surface again through no effort of her own.

"Hold still!" It was a roar. It had to be a roar, for her to hear it over the sound of her own heart pounding in her ears and the deep gurgle of the water as it rushed past. Charlie realized that Jake was there, right beside her, holding her hand in a steely grip as both of them were swept ruthlessly downstream by the strength of the current. She surged desperately toward him, free arm windmilling, kicking with all the strength left in her legs. They felt heavy, so very heavy, as if lead weights were attached to her feet, pulling her down. Nevertheless, she managed to reach him with that panic-stricken lunge, and locked onto him as the only solid thing in a terrifyingly unsolid world, wrapping her free arm around his neck, trying to climb on top of him in a blind panic that left no room for rational thought.

"God damn it," he began, trying to pry her off him, but whatever came after that she didn't hear. She sank like an anvil. Rather,
they
sank like an anvil, because the death grip she had on him wasn't being shaken off this side of the grave. She clung to his neck like a giant squid to a battleship, and for all his superior strength he couldn't budge her.

Within a minute or so he managed to break the surface again anyway, dragging her up with him. With her mouth and nose above water, she gulped in air. They were cheek to cheek, she discovered, and his was wet and cold and rough as sandpaper.

"Let go of my neck." He was somehow keeping them both afloat despite having her battened onto him like a barnacle and only one free hand to work with. Wrapping her legs around his waist for good measure, she choked and gasped and sucked in lifesaving air as they were swept downstream. "Damn it, you're going to drown us both."

"You're the idiot who jumped in the river." Her hold on him tightened as, using him for a ladder, she tried to climb a little higher out of the maelstrom. Her efforts plunged his head under. She went down, too, despite her best efforts to save herself, and tumbled head over heels as the current spun her around like a child with a ball. Having managed in the course of the past hour to survive two car crashes and the same number of armed killers and a hideously close encounter with a snake, she realized with the kind of mental clarity reserved for only the most extreme situations that she was now face-to-face with a death that was the stuff of her worst nightmares: She was going to drown.

She would never, ever, ever wish for excitement again, she thought despairingly, and managed by dint of pressing down on the closest submerged object—boulder-hard and covered with human hair, she suspected it might be the top of Jake's head—to win through to the surface, and draw air into her tortured lungs.

The surface exploded right in front of her, and Jake's seal-sleek head shot into view. Coughing, sputtering, he caught both her wrists in a crushing grip as he took a few gasping breaths. Without the boost of his body beneath hers to keep her up, she felt herself being sucked down again, and made a despairing sound just before her head submerged.

As she went under, his grip shifted. Somehow she was spun around, then hauled upward. When her head broke through again, and she coughed and gasped and sucked in air, she found that he was behind her, wrapping their shackled arms around her waist, supporting her with his body.

"All you have to do is be still!" he yelled in her ear. "Do you hear me? Quit fighting and be still. I can swim well enough for the both of us if you'll quit trying to drown me."

"Oh, God." Charlie had no strength left to fight anyway. The lead weights dragging her down seemed suddenly less oppressive, and she realized that one of her boots had fallen off. Enlightenment dawned, and she kicked off the other one. Never mind that they were her best boots, made of ostrich skin and costing over five hundred dollars; if she had to lose them to live, lose them she would. Even without them she wouldn't call herself buoyant—she was about as buoyant as a slab of marble—but her body definitely felt lighter. Bye-bye, boots.

"Just relax. Lie back against me and relax. I won't let you go, I promise. Hell, I can't, remember?" His voice was soothing now—well, as soothing as it was possible for a near-shout to be. With his arm around her waist and his back against hers, Charlie found to her surprise that she was not sinking. The water stayed at chin level, and she could breathe. She could feel his legs moving beneath hers, and his free arm seemed to be moving, too. He was swimming and keeping her afloat.

"I never even go out on boats," she moaned through chattering teeth, unable to believe the situation in which she found herself.

"I've got you. As long as you don't panic, we'll be fine." His tone was reassuring. So was the knowledge that, he was handcuffed to her wrist. No matter what happened, he wouldn't be letting her go.

Something that glowed faintly in the darkness floated into her line of vision, rising and falling with the motion of the water. It was pencil thick, and semicircular....

"Hold onto this," Jake instructed, distracting her by shoving a branch the size of an oar in front of her nose. Charlie took one look, and thought
thank you, God!
With his help, she wedged it under her arms, and felt marginally more secure. Between Jake and the branch, she just might survive this nightmare after all.

"Okay, we're heading for dry land. We'll be out of this in just a few minutes. Hang on."

He was towing her steadily toward shore, Charlie saw with a quick glance around. Although it was so dark she could barely differentiate the solidness of the branch from the inkiness of the water, she could tell where shore was: It was that place where the white line of foam bubbled against a grayer shade of night. Looking closer, she realized that the grayer shade belonged to a wall of sheer rock. Even if they reached the riverbank, getting out might prove difficult if that wall of rock was as straight up and down as it looked.

"Jake. Jake, they killed Laura." The imminent prospect of drowning had knocked the horror of it clear out of her head. Now that she felt fractionally more secure, her brain was able to function enough for her to remember.

"What?" He sounded startled.

"They killed Laura. After Woz knocked you unconscious, he shot her. Her head—it—it exploded."

"Jesus." She could feel the arm beneath her breasts tighten. "Stupid sonofabitch, I told him not to get his girlfriend involved. Now they're both dead."

Charlie took deep breaths, trying to expel the hideous image once again. For a few moments both of them were silent, as Charlie did her best to erase her memory banks and Jake concentrated on keeping them afloat. The glowing thing bobbed into view again, closer this time. Successfully distracted, Charlie frowned at it, then realized with a burst of pleased surprise what it was.

"Sadie!" The little dog was swimming valiantly in their wake. The glow Charlie had seen was from the reflector strip on her collar. Now that Charlie knew what to look for, she could see her distinctly. Sadie was stretching her neck, holding her head as high above the surface as she could, her eyes round and black in her pale face. She looked about as drowned and desperate as Charlie felt.

Without thought, Charlie reached out toward her. The branch immediately tried to dislodge itself from beneath her arms, and she grabbed it with a sudden fresh upsurge of panic and damped it back into place.

"What the hell are you doing? Lie still." Jake sounded breathless. "This is like swimming with a ton of bricks on my chest as it is."

"Sadie!" Charlie tried to coax the dog closer. "Come on, Sadie!"

"Are you deaf? I said
lie still."

"It's Sadie! Here, girl!"

"I don't give a damn if it's Madonna. You keep wriggling like that, and we're both going to go under."

The warning terrified her anew. Charlie made a conscious effort to relax her muscles as best she could, letting her head rest back against his broad shoulder while her lower body floated, but she kept her eyes on her dog.

Sadie paddled determinedly, but whether her efforts or the force of the current brought her nearer Charlie couldn't tell. She was almost close enough to grab.

"Look at the damned dog's damned collar." Jake sounded so alarmed that Charlie stiffened instinctively. His arm tightened, and she was reminded to relax. "Look at it! It glows in the dark! No wonder they were able to track us through the woods. The damned dog was following us the whole time. They'll be able to find us in the river, too. Don't call it any closer. Damn it to hell, anyway! Grab it, and let's ..."

His words were interrupted by what sounded like a firecracker going off. A sudden splash of water hit Charlie in the face.

"Shit!" Jake said. "That was close."

Even as she looked in the direction he was looking in, Charlie heard what sounded like a whole string of fire-crackers exploding. Water shot up all around them in frothy white mini-geysers, showering her with spray.

From the top of the rocky wall that lined this section of the river, a baseball-size circle of light shone in their direction: a flashlight, she realized. Its beam was a puny thing as it reached over the dark water toward them, but its impact couldn't have been greater if it had been the spotlight that had mesmerized Charlie earlier: Woz and Denton had clearly found them. The geysers were caused by bullets hitting the water. Her pulse, frozen into near nonexistence, began to race anew. Had she thus far survived drowning only to be shot? Or maybe she would be shot, and then drown?

What was this, a hundred and one ways to die? Charlie moaned.

Out of the corner of her eye, she saw Jake grab Sadie, pulling her in. His savage kicks and her death grip on the branch was all that was keeping them afloat. Bullets smacked the water in a sharp, staccato rhythm, kicking up water all around.

At least, she thought semihysterically, she wouldn't die alone. Not that there was much comfort in that.

"Let go," Jake said in Charlie's ear, and to her horror the branch was wrenched from her grasp. She gasped, stiffened, flailed and sank, swallowing what felt like half the river in the process. Jake sank right beside her, but instead of hauling her up again he kept her beneath the surface, holding her down and pulling her along as he swam. He was careful to keep just enough distance between them so that she couldn't latch on to him as she was desperate to do. Lungs aching, eyes wide open but unable to see anything in the frigid darkness, Charlie kicked and clawed at the water with her free hand even as she mentally surrendered to the inevitable: One way or another on this hideous night, she was going to die.

When they surfaced at last, she was so limp with terror and exhaustion and lack of oxygen that she couldn't even latch onto Jake. She gasped and coughed and wheezed, filling her lungs with air, letting him do with her as he would. Once again she found herself with her back to his front and their connected arms beneath her breasts. He was treading water, supporting her, and she leaned her head back against his shoulder and just breathed. None of her senses seemed to be working properly. Even her sense of fear was numbed, which she realized vaguely was probably a good thing. Otherwise she would, by now, probably have been literally scared to death.

However, she could, she realized after a moment or two in which air was the most important thing in the world, still hear. More specifically, she could still hear gun shots, although the sharp pop-pop-pop was fainter than before. That realization caused her to lift her head, brush the soaked hair from her eyes and look around. She could see, too, she discovered, and feel, and even smell. The wind was brisk and cold against her face. The muddy smell of the river was all around her. The intense blackness of the water and the slightly lighter darkness of the shore was interrupted by the faint beam of the flashlight which was now moving away from them. She and Jake had surfaced, Charlie judged, almost in the middle of the channel, and the flashlight seemed to be chasing a pale, glowing semicircle that bobbed up and down as it fled downstream.

Realization was sudden and terrible.

"They're shooting at Sadie!" Charlie gasped with horror, stiffening in spite of herself.

"God damn it." It was a warning growl in her ear as they started to sink, reminding her of the need to remain limp. "They're shooting at the branch. I put the damned dog's collar around it. With any luck, they'll follow it clear into the next county."

"But Sadie..."

"Right behind us," Jake said, sounding as if he was talking through clenched teeth. "What is the thing, a damned bloodhound? The way our luck is going tonight, we couldn't lose it if we tried. Think you could kick your feet a little without sinking us both? I'm getting kind of tired here."