The Winds of Khalakovo - Bradley P. Beaulieu [147]
Oleg stood next to Nikandr, staring at the beast, chest heaving.
“What have you done?” Nikandr said as he snatched the pistol away.
The creature took a step forward.
“Run!” Nikandr ordered, and he was over the log and sprinting down the far slope. “And spread out!”
He fell on the slick undergrowth and slid downward, losing the pistol he’d snatched from Oleg. He flew downhill, unable to slow his descent. He heard Pietr and Oleg behind him, but soon the sounds of their escape was replaced by the roar of a river.
Finally the ground leveled off, allowing him to come to a halt by digging his heels into the soft earth. He spared one quick glance back and saw the hezhan moving quickly, twisting through the trees like a snake.
Oleg’s screams came moments later.
Nikandr stood and ran, knowing there was no longer any hope for Oleg. In the time it took him to run a hundred paces, the pounding chase of the vanahezhan picked up once more. It came louder and louder as he reached the top of a steep decline. He leapt as the sound of snapping wood came close behind him.
The ground tore at his skin as he slid downward. Above, the vanahezhan was watching him slide away. It turned to its right and followed the ridge from which Nikandr had leapt.
And then Nikandr found himself in mid-air, falling.
CHAPTER 45
Nikandr splashed into a deep and swift flowing river. He coughed, fighting to stay above the frothing water, but when he slipped down a shallow decline, the current dragged him under. He held his breath and felt himself falling again. He tumbled over stones and briefly saw the bright blue sky through the tall trees before being pulled down once more. He was turned about, and his shoulder crashed into a large, rounded rock. He fought for the surface, his lungful of air nearly exhausted, to no effect; the current was too strong.
Finally the current slowed, and he was able after several long strokes to break through to the surface. As he spluttered for breath he found himself in a wide pool. He could hear the sound of rapids ahead, but here the current was weak. He struggled for the bank, and finally, his breath coming in heaving gasps, he pulled himself up the thick grass onto firm ground.
Behind him, the booming sound of the vanahezhan was approaching. Moments later its lumbering head was visible through the trees farther up the slope.
The pounding neared his position, but he remained immobile, hoping the creature would fail to find him, but it soon became clear it was headed straight for him. He leapt into the water as the pace of the creature quickened. It roared—a sound like a growling bear and crumbling stones—and moments later the sound of wood cracking and snapping came. He turned just in time to see a tree with a trunk as thick as a ship’s mainmast arcing toward him. He ducked under the water as the thing sailed overhead. Tree branches gouged his back, and he was sent tumbling deep underwater.
He swam beneath the tree and peered carefully between a cluster of vinelike branches. The vanahezhan stepped into the water and waded toward him. Its eyes glittered, and though it was silent in the water, it seemed even more menacing than when it had released its moaning call.
Nikandr was ready to dive beneath the surface to swim for the opposite shore when Pietr reached the bank of the river and began shouting and waving. The vanahezhan continued until Pietr threw a large branch, which struck it on the head. The earth spirit turned. It seemed unsure what it should do—first it stared at Nikandr behind his tree, then the screaming Pietr, then Nikandr again—but finally it began wading toward the bank.
“Nyet!” Nikandr screamed