Adrift 3: Rising (Adrift Series) Read Free Page A

.
    Heart hammering, the noise like thunder in his head.
    Lost and alone in the dark.
    Unsure which way to turn.
    Not alone .
    It’s in here with me.
    Where?
    A whimper rippled through the silence in the cavern; a noise that chilled Dusty’s blood all the more for the sudden realisation that it had spilled from his own lips.
    He sucked in a breath, trying to find some semblance of calm, trying to fend off the wave of terror which threatened to wash away his sanity. Madness, he realised, was a lurking shadow, separated from the human mind by a paper-thin membrane. All that was required to let insanity tear through was darkness and threat. Dusty’s mind began to collapse, breaking apart as though made of matchsticks.
    And he heard it laugh .
    The horror in the shadows.
    Click.
    Click.
    The sound of its footsteps. Moving toward him slowly. Casually.
    No, not casually , Dusty’s mind shrieked. Playfully .
    The thing in the cavern had no need to rush; it wanted to enjoy the moment. It relished drawing out the hunt.
    Dusty let out a strangled yelp, and began to run blindly. No thought for direction anymore; his internal compass was broken, smashed beyond repair. No idea that he might find some means of escape. No hope, even, that he would survive. All that was left now was terror, and running. His body switched to autopilot, undeterred by the fact that he had nowhere to run to . The sudden sprint was a genetic response, pre-programmed and futile as the twitching of a corpse.
    He ran.
    And somewhere behind him in the eternal darkness, it followed.
    Unhurried.
    The sound of its movement like the ticking of some dreadful timer, counting down the seconds that Dusty had left.
    Claws on rock, echoing in the void.
    Click.
    Click.
    Click.



1
     
    Dan Bellamy awoke screaming.
    The terrible noise tore itself from his throat like a violent cough, ripping his back upright and leaving him gasping for air that seemed almost reluctant to enter his lungs. It felt like his mind had short-circuited; his thoughts caught in the middle of some system reboot. It took him a moment to realise where he was.
    Darkness.
    Reality .
    Emerging from the recurrent nightmare was like climbing out of a pit of razor wire; returning to the real world was a journey that left terrible scars, no matter how many times he made it. For a moment, he simply let himself exist, hoping that the horror of sleep would fade quickly.
    His skin was freezing as the air in the bedroom washed over it, despite the fact that it was a warm late summer night. Freezing, that is, aside from a small area of his chest, just above his heart: the part of his body where his fiancé’s hand rested lightly. It was a gesture of reassurance that was as familiar and futile as Dan’s own nightly prayers that for once—just once —he might enjoy a dreamless sleep.
    He searched out Elaine’s hand in the darkness, lifting it away from his sweat-slick chest, and squeezed.
    “Are you okay?”
    Elaine’s voice was weak, sagging under the weight of her concern. Thanks to the blackout curtains they had installed to block the streetlight right outside the bedroom window, he couldn’t see her face, but he knew that her eyes would be wide with compassion; with her growing anxiety.
    He gasped out another ragged breath and grunted acknowledgment as he collapsed back onto the bed, flinching as his skin found cotton. His pillow felt like it had spent several minutes in a freezer: it was soaked through yet again. Wincing, he flipped it over and found the underside relatively dry.
    “You were talking about it again, babe,” Elaine whispered hesitantly. “The black river.”
    Dan nodded into the darkness, aware that she would be unable to see the gesture, hoping that she wouldn’t press him for a response. He had dreamed of the black river every night for the past six months, ever since a mugger had driven the blade of a stubby knife into his skull. He had spent weeks comatose following the attack and,