F. Wilson - Secret Circles

Weezy screamed and Jack fell forward, plunging face-first into the cold flow. When he regained his footing and turned, he saw nothing but swirling water.

Cody was gone!

15

“Oh my god!” Weezy screamed from the ladder. “Oh my god!”

Jack tried to wade over to her but had to swim through the neck-high water. “What happened?

Did you see it? Where‟d he go?”

She pointed a trembling hand toward the darkness of the passage. “Something

took him! I heard it screech, and when I looked it had Cody and was diving under the water with him!”

“Flashlight!” Jack said, holding out his hand. “Give!”

Weezy pulled it out of reach. “Are you crazy? You can‟t go after it! You‟ll never find it, and if you do it‟ll kill you!”

But he couldn‟t just stay here and do nothing.

“What‟d it look like?”

She shook her head. “I saw wet black fur and claws and then it was gone. But it was big, Jack.

Way bigger than you. That‟s why you can‟t go.”

“But—”

“Right now the best chance Cody has is if we can go find help and get the police and firemen here.”

She was right—Jack knew she was completely right—but he felt as if he was abandoning that little boy.

“All right. But we can‟t waste a second. Let‟s see if we can find a phone upstairs.”

He wished they‟d done that when they‟d first heard Cody‟s voice. But who knew? Who could have imagined this?

“I—” Weezy gasped and pointed to his head. “Jack, you‟re bleeding!”

Jack touched the back of his head where it hurt and his fingers came away red.

“Must have happened when it snatched Cody.” That explained the pain, but he had more important things to worry about. He rinsed his fingers in the swirling water and pointed up.

“Come on. Let‟s go.”

As Weezy hauled herself out of the water and began to climb, Jack pulled himself under her and readied to follow. But as he took his first step, something grabbed his trailing leg and pulled him off the ladder and under the surface.

He hadn‟t had time for a breath. He had no air. He felt clawed paws grip his arms and pull him through the water and away from the light. He choked and fought against inhaling water.

It‟s trying to drown me!

Suddenly it lifted him from the water and pushed him face-first against the side wall. The slam expelled the water that had been seeping into his throat, and he choked and gasped as he drank air, glorious air.

Though he could hear Weezy‟s voice screaming his name from a distance, he couldn‟t see the thing here in the dark with his cheek pressed against the cold rough stone, but he could feel the creature‟s hot breath on his neck as it growled close behind him. Jack sensed rage and hunger in that sound, and he knew right then he was going to die.

Something like a smooth, thick wet rope snaked around his throat and squeezed. Was it going to strangle him?

Its grip tightened and he shuddered as he felt something warm and rough—it could only be a tongue—squirm against his neck and lap at the blood oozing from his scalp.

The creature stiffened and backed away a few inches, but didn‟t release him. After what seemed like a long wait as the water rose toward his chin, the tongue licked him again.

Suddenly the rope uncoiled from his neck and the paws released him. He was free. He heard a splash behind him and spun in the water, but saw nothing. He was alone and that was fine, that was wonderful.

He began kicking and stroking with everything he had toward the light and Weezy‟s calling voice.

“Jack!” she cried when she saw him. Her words became mixed with sobs. “Hurry, Jack! Hurry!”

He was stroking too hard against the increasing current to speak. Finally he reached the ladder and clutched at it. He looked up and saw Weezy‟s tear-streaked face staring down at him.

“Oh Jack, I thought you were gone forever!”

So had he. And the thing was, he didn‟t know why he was alive or how he‟d survived. Once the thing had a taste of his blood, it lost interest in him. Was there something wrong with him? With his blood?

Well, if so, he was glad of it. He would have loved to take a few moments here to think about it and catch his breath before climbing, but every second counted for Cody.

His foot found a rung somewhere underwater and he was just starting his climb when he heard a loud crunching crack! to his right. He looked and saw a wall of water rushing toward him.

The lake was exploding into the lost town.

Terror ignited a burst of speed in his limbs as he rushed to escape the tsunami, but he‟d climbed only halfway through the trapdoor when it hit him. He gasped as the force of it tore his feet from the ladder and dragged his legs along with it. He might have been sucked back into the torrent if Weezy hadn‟t grabbed one of his arms and helped him the rest of the way through.

“What happened?” she said as he lay dripping and gasping on the floor.

“The barrier must have given way.”

He looked over at the trapdoor opening and saw the foaming water lapping at its edges. He pushed himself to his knees as an awful realization hit like a speeding truck.

“Cody … he hasn‟t a chance.”

She shook her head. “Don‟t say that! We‟ve just got to find a phone and—”

A splash and movement in the opening.

Jack rolled away, expecting the creature to emerge. But instead Cody appeared, rising through the churning water as if propelled from behind.

He was being propelled. Jack saw a pair of thick, black-furred arms pushing him out of the water. His limp form flopped onto the floor where he rolled over onto his back and lay still.

Jack saw those two furred arms reach over the edge of the doorway, saw the sharp yellow talons of its hand like paws frantically claw at the floor, trying to find purchase, but they couldn‟t hold.

Slowly they slipped toward the opening, leaving gouges in the concrete. Something that could have been a snake or an eel or a smooth tentacle whipped out of the water and waved about as if trying to find something to grip.

And then with a final scrabbling rasp of claws on concrete, the paws slipped through the opening and disappeared along with the eel or what ever it was.

Jack stared in openmouthed shock. It had saved Cody—pushed him out of the water. He kept waiting for the hands to reappear, but they didn‟t.

He turned to Weezy. “Did you—?”

“Jack!” she cried, pointing to Cody. “He‟s not breathing!”

Jack leaned over the boy and saw that Weezy was right. His face was white, his lips blue.

Cody Bockman was dead.

16

Maybe not, Jack thought as he sorted through his shell-shocked brain, trying to tease out what he‟d learned in life-saving class about drowning victims who weren‟t breathing.

Pulse—check for pulse!

He thrust two fingertips against Cody‟s throat, pressing into the

flesh about an inch from the midline. He felt a weakly beating artery.

“He‟s alive!”

“But he‟s not breathing!” Weezy said. “He needs CPR!”

Right—no!

Can‟t get air into water-filled lungs, he remembered. Always do a Heimlich first! Jack lifted Cody‟s limp body to a sitting position and got behind him. He placed a

fist under his breastbone, covered it with another hand and began thrusting. “What are you doing , Jack?” Weezy wailed. “He needs CPR!”

No, he knew he was right.

Suddenly powerful hands tore him away from Cody. He looked up and saw Mr.

Drexler‟s angry face.

“Take over, Eggers,” he said to his driver, then looked at Jack and Weezy. “And