The Host_ A Novel - Stephenie Meyer [148]
Scream!
The air blew out of me in a siren of sound that surprised us all. My wordless shriek was more than I’d hoped for-surely someone would hear it. Please let that someone be Jeb. Please let him have the gun.
“Uhng!” Kyle protested. His hand was big enough to cover most of my face. His palm mashed against my mouth, cutting off my scream.
He rolled then, and the motion so took me by surprise that I had no time to try to find an advantage in it. He pulled me swiftly over and under and over his body. I was dizzy and confused, my head still spinning, but I understood as soon as my face hit the water.
His hand locked on the back of my neck, forcing my face into the shallow stream of cooler water that wound its way into the bathing pool. It was too late to hold my breath. I’d already inhaled a mouthful of water.
My body panicked when the water hit my lungs. Its flailing was stronger than he’d expected. My limbs all jerked and thrashed in different directions, and his grip on my neck slipped. He tried to get a better hold, and some instinct made me pull myself into him rather than away, as he was expecting. I only pulled half a foot closer to him, but that got my chin out of the stream, and enough of my mouth to choke some of the water back out and drag in a breath.
He fought to push me back into the stream, but I wriggled and wedged myself under him so that his own weight was working against his goal. I was still reacting to the water in my lungs, coughing and spasming out of control.
“Enough!” Kyle growled.
He pulled himself off me, and I tried to drag myself away.
“Oh, no, you don’t!” he spit through his teeth.
It was over, and I knew it.
There was something wrong with my injured leg. It felt numb, and I couldn’t make it do what I wanted. I could only push myself along the floor with my arms and my good leg. I was coughing too hard to do even that well. Too hard to scream again.
Kyle grabbed my wrist and yanked me up from the floor. The weight of my body made my leg buckle, and I slumped into him.
He got both my wrists in one hand and wrapped the other arm around my waist. He pulled me off the floor and into his side, like an awkward bag of flour. I twisted, and my good leg kicked against the empty air.
“Let’s get this over with.”
He jumped over the smaller stream with a bound and carried me toward the closest sinkhole. The steam from the hot spring washed my face.
He was going to throw me into the dark, hot hole and let the boiling water pull me into the ground as it burned me.
“No, no!” I shouted, my voice too hoarse and low to carry.
I writhed frantically. My knee knocked against one of the ropy rock columns, and I hooked my foot around it, trying to yank myself out of his grip. He jerked me free with an impatient grunt.
At least that loosened his hold enough that I could make one more move. It had worked before, so I tried it again. Instead of trying to free myself, I twisted in and wrapped my legs around his waist, locking the good ankle around the bad, trying to ignore the pain so that I could get a good hold there.
“Get off me, you -” He fought to knock me loose, and I jerked one of my wrists free. I wrapped that arm around his neck and grabbed his thick hair. If I was going into the black river, so was he.
Kyle hissed and stopped prying at my leg long enough to punch my side.
I gasped in pain but got my other hand into his hair.
He wrapped both arms around me, as if we were embracing rather than locked in a killing struggle. Then he grabbed my waist from both sides and heaved with all his strength against my hold.
His hair started to come out in my hands, but he just grunted and pulled harder.
I could hear the steaming water rushing close by, right below me, it seemed. The steam billowed up in a thick cloud, and for a minute I couldn’t see anything but Kyle’s face, twisted with rage into something beastlike and merciless.
I felt my bad leg giving. I tried to pull myself closer to him, but his brute strength was winning against my desperation. He would have me free in