Page 64 of Now Comes the Dark

The river was black, save for the illumination of the buildings on either side. Roman scanned the surface. Apart from the disturbance of where they had gone in, he saw nothing.

“Mallon,” he screamed.

Nothing. Neither of them resurfaced.

There were voices behind him.

“The current will take them down,” someone said.

Then a head broke the surface, ten yards on and drifting downriver. He recognised the black woollen hat. It was Will.

Then another head appeared farther out, choking on the water.

Roman reacted on instinct, diving straight into the river.

The shock of the cold made him draw an involuntary breath. He burst for the surface, coughing. He was alive. He still had feeling. He struck out in the direction he’d last seen Mallon. Frantic voices yelled at him from the riverside. He powered on. The river drew him downstream. He’d heard about the currents before but had no idea they were this strong.

Mallon was weak, injured. Roman knew he had to find him before the river took him. He crawled through the cold, black water. It would not end like this.

He paused, lifting his head.

“Mallon,” he yelled into the night.

“H-here…”

Roman lowered his face into the water and sped in the direction of the voice.

Can’t lose him.Won’tlose him.

Every stroke was more leaden and laborious than the last.

He paused again, searching.

There was a figure in the water, just ahead of him.Mallon. Thank God.

With another surge, he made it.

Mallon’s face was ghastly in the lights from the riverside. His skin was as ashen as a corpse. There was barely any animation in his features. If he stayed in the water much longer, he would be finished.

“I’ve got you,” Roman said. His own teeth chattered as he spoke. He swam behind Mallon, slipping his arms beneath his shoulders and easing him onto his back. He would need strength for both of them on the return journey. Roman kicked for the bank. His body seemed independent of his brain, doing everything it could to keep the two of them alive. The currents dragged at their limbs, trying to take them down, but he kept on pushing, fighting against it.

We’re not going to die like this. Not tonight.

The voices from the bank were nearer, louder. Roman adjusted course, moving in their direction. Mallon was a dead weight in his arms.Please let him be breathing. There was nothing Roman could do to help him until they reached land. Each kick required more effort than the last, and he could no longer feel his legs for the cold.

He twisted his neck to check their progress. A crowd of people beckoned to him.Almost there. Keep kicking. Keep moving.

His head bumped against the wall of the quay. They had made it. Hands reached for him. Roman turned in the water, pushing Mallon towards their rescuers.

“Take him first.”

They were blessed that the tide was in and the gap between the water and quay was less than two feet. He tried to lift Mallon, to propel him towards the reaching hands, but he had no strength left. The cold consumed every part of him. Without the urge to keep Mallon safe, Roman might have given in to the impulse to close his eyes and slip away into the dark depths.

His arms were empty. The people above had gained purchase on his soaking charge and hauled him to safety. Then it was his turn. He tried to help but was a dead weight. Lifting his hand required too much effort.

Somehow, the people on the quay pulled him from the water, and he felt the hard pavement beneath his back. A coat was draped over him, and he heard concerned voices.

“Take it easy.”

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