For Love of Mother_Not by Alan Dean Foster

Author:Alan Dean Foster [Foster, Alan Dean]
Language: eng
Format: epub
ISBN: 9780345454553
Publisher: Random House Publishing Group
Published: 2002-03-26T04:00:00+00:00

Chapter Ten

Screams and shouts came from the vicinity of the mudders and the skimmer. A violent reactive wave nearly capsized the jet boat; only Lauren’s skillful and experienced maneuvering kept them afloat.

Flinx saw a vast argent spine shot through with flecks of gold that shone in the diffused sunlight. It looked like a huge pipe emerging from beneath the waves, and it turned the sunlight to rainbows. Then it was gone, not endless as he first believed. Another wave shook the catamaran as the monster submerged once again. Flinx pulled himself up to where he could peer over the edge of the cabin compartment.

The mudders had vanished completely, sucked down in a single gulp by whatever had materialized from the depths of the lake. The skimmer itself just missed being dragged down by that great gulf of a mouth. It hovered above the disturbed section of lake where its companion craft had been only a moment ago. Then someone on the skimmer apparently made a decision, for it rose another twenty meters toward the clouds and accelerated rapidly northward.

“They’re leaving,” Flinx shouted. “We have to get back to the lodge, get the skimmer you mentioned, and hurry after them before—”

“We have to get out of here alive first.” Lauren followed her announcement with another curse as her hands tore at the wheel. The silver mountain lifted from the lake just starboard of the jet boat. Flinx was gifted with a long, uncomfortable view down a throat wide enough to swallow several mudders intact. Or a jet boat. The jaws slammed shut, sending a heavy spray crashing over the gunwales. The monster was so close Flinx could smell its horrid breath. Then it was sinking back into the waters boiling behind the catamaran.

Something moved on his shoulder, and he reached up to grasp at the muscular form that was uncoiling. “No, Pip! Easy . . . this one’s too big even for you.” The snake struggled for a moment before relaxing. It bobbed and ducked nervously, however, sensing a threat not only to its master but to itself. Yet it responded to the pressure of Flinx’s restraining fingers and held its position.

For a third time, the penestral struck, snapping in frustration at the spot where the jet boat had been only seconds earlier. Thanks to the tracker, which had first warned Lauren of the nightmare’s approach, they were able to avoid its upward rush.

“This won’t do,” she murmured. “It’ll keep working us until I make a mistake. Then it’ll take us the way it took the poor souls still stuck on those mudders.” She studied the tracker intently. “It’s circling now. Trying to cut us off from shallow water and the shore. We’ll let it think we’re headed that way. Then we’ll reverse back into deep water.”

“Why?”

She ignored the question. “You didn’t care for it when I had to shove you away from the wheel a few minutes ago, did you? Here, it’s all yours again.” She reached down and half pulled, half guided him back into the pilot’s chair.

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