Read The Prey for Free Online

enough to make him wince. “There isn’t, Ben.”
    “Then let me go,” I say. “I’m a strong swimmer, I can make it.”
    “No,” she says, sheathing her dagger into her belt.
    “We both go, then,” I insist.
    “No,” she says, snatching the dagger out of my hand. She snaps it securely into her belt.
    “Sissy—”
    And she stares at me with a fierce look that is somehow both anger and wonder. She holds my gaze a beat longer than necessary. “ Don’t let Gene die ,” she finally whispers, and just like that, she whisks past me, dives into the river with barely a splash.
    David starts to cry. I pull him up, him and Jacob, and Ben, too, knowing all three will need each other. “Listen to me, boys,” I say with as much conviction as I can muster. “Sissy gave you a job to do. Get those damn hooks off our boat. Use your shirts, no skin contact. Do you understand?” Jacob nods, and I gently cup David’s face with two hands. His skin is too thin. He wasn’t meant for a world like this. I stare courage into his eyes. He nods.
    “Go!” I say, and push them out to the deck. They scamper off, each to a hook.
    And then I am leaping off the boat, diving into the river.
    *   *   *
    Cold, black liquidness. The current whips me downstream. I fight against it, resisting the swirling eddies that almost spin me around. Get spun down here, and you’ll be forever disoriented. I stroke hard, forsaking fine-tuned navigation, simply wanting to propel myself forward before my lungs give out.
    The bank comes at me like a vicious slap. Sharp rocks cut into my hands, jamming my fingers. I pull myself out, wet clothes weighing me down. Force myself forward, on my feet. I see the boat. Farther than I’d have thought. The current carried me almost fifty meters downstream. A warm liquid spreads down my hand. Even before I see it, I know what it is. My blood pouring out from the gashes.
    Howls break out, high-pitched enough to shatter the stars, shake the moon. They smell my blood.
    The three grappling-hook lines suddenly go limp, and the listed side of the boat falls back into the water with a splash. The hunters have let go. They’re coming for me.
    “Sissy! Where are you?”
    “Over here. Come quickly.”
    She’s standing by a pile of equipment dumped on the ground. More ropes, grappling hooks, a loaded harpoon gun. The hunters must have placed extra equipment here earlier for insurance. In case we were somehow able to break free from the first trap, they’d simply race down and set up another.
    “They’re coming, Sissy.”
    “I know.”
    I pick up the harpoon gun. Try to, anyway. It weighs a ton. I won’t be able to carry it, much less use it. Not alone, anyway. “Sissy, help me with this gun. Together we can lift it.”
    She doesn’t answer.
    I look up. She’s gone.
    More howls squeal toward me, disconcertingly close. I race up over the crest of the hill, and there, standing halfway down, looking diminished in the moonlight is Sissy. She’s gripping a dagger in one very white, clenched hand. Two hunters streak toward her. Hours of anaerobic exertion have burnished away their body fat. Their rib cages poke through their gaunt chests, and membranous skin flaps on their bony frames like bleached clothes hanging on a laundry line. The third hunter is nowhere to be seen.
    Sissy doesn’t move. They’re twenty seconds away, and she’s biding her time, trying to find the best angle to fling daggers. But she doesn’t understand them the way I do. I know their tactics.
    “Sissy,” I say, running to her. “Take them out now.”
    “No,” she whispers. “Too far.”
    “They’re going to split soon. One left, one right, they’ll come at us from opposite ends. To disorient you. To blindside you. You’ll be aiming for one while the other is leaping on your back. Now, Sissy!”
    She believes me. In a blur, she flings out the dagger, east of the incoming hunters. As they continue sprinting, their heads turn to