Chapter 186: What the Water Sends After Them

Chapter 186: Chapter 186: What the Water Sends After Them

The church had descended into something Silver didn’t recognize by the time they woke that morning.

Voices rose sharp and fractured from the main hall, two groups squared off near the altar over what remained of the shared food stores, accusations flying faster than anyone seemed able to sort through them.

"You’ve been taking more than your share!"

"We have children! What do you expect us to do, watch them starve while you hoard—"

"Everyone’s hoarding! That’s why there’s nothing left!"

Silver rose slowly, python coiled tight against his arm, watching the scene unfold with the same grim recognition he’d carried since the estate first fell — desperation curdling into something uglier, faster now than even his worst years running the syndicate had prepared him for.

"We should move," he said quietly, glancing toward Dahlia and Victor, both already awake, already reading the room with the same wary attention. "This isn’t going to stay contained to shouting much longer."

"Agreed," Victor said, already gathering their meager supplies. "We’ve gotten what we needed from this place. The directions, the confirmation. There’s nothing left here worth the risk of staying."

They slipped out through the church’s side door while the argument inside escalated further, a woman’s scream cutting through the chaos just as the door swung shut behind them, and none of them looked back to see what had caused it.

Outside, the rain had eased into a thin, steady mist, visibility better than it had been in days, though none of them mistook the improvement for anything resembling safety.

"Two days," Silver said, checking the boy’s hand-drawn map one final time. "If we push hard, less."

"We push hard," Victor said, already falling into step beside him.

The morning’s trek passed with the same grim efficiency that had carried them since the estate — infected cleared with practiced, economical violence, the crystals they collected along the way absorbed steadily into each of their growing reserves of strength. Dahlia moved with a fluid confidence that hadn’t existed even a week earlier, her water manipulation answering the smallest suggestion of intent rather than requiring the focused effort it once had. Silver’s python struck faster with every use, the creature growing more responsive, more instinctively protective, as though it too had absorbed something from every crystal Silver fed into it. Victor’s warnings arrived earlier, sharper, the headache that accompanied them a fraction less debilitating each time.

But the flooding had worsened considerably overnight, entire blocks now submerged past what any of them had previously navigated on foot, forcing them into deeper water more often than any of them liked.

It was Victor who sensed it first, the familiar pressure building sharp behind his eyes as they waded through a flooded intersection.

"Something’s close," he said, voice tight. "In the water. Moving toward us."

Silver’s hand went instantly to the python. "Same as before?"

"I don’t know. It feels bigger."

Dahlia’s water manipulation flared to readiness, a thin, spinning disc already forming at her fingertips. "Where?"

Victor’s eyes swept the flooded street, tracking something none of the rest of them could perceive. "Everywhere. It’s not one thing. It’s—"

The water around them erupted.

Not one creature this time, but three, breaking the surface simultaneously from different angles — the same mottled, sickly gray-black flesh as before, ridged spines catching the gray light, jaws distended into something barely recognizable as mouths anymore.

"Split!" Silver shouted, already moving, python tearing free from his arm to intercept the nearest threat.

Dahlia’s disc found the second creature’s exposed throat, driving it back with a spray of dark blood, though the impact barely seemed to slow it, the thing surging forward again almost immediately.

"They’re faster than the last one," she called out, retreating a step, gathering another blast of pressurized water.

Victor met the third head-on, knife flashing in a series of quick, precise strikes aimed at the softer flesh along its jaw, buying himself distance rather than trying to land a killing blow outright.

Silver’s python wrapped around his own target’s forelimb, dragging it off balance long enough for Silver to drive a knife of his own deep into its exposed throat, black blood spraying across the flooded water as it thrashed once and finally went still.

"One down!" he called, already turning to help Dahlia, whose creature had pressed her back nearly to the edge of a collapsed storefront.

He reached her in time to drive his own blade through the creature’s ribs from behind, and it collapsed with a final, gurgling shriek, leaving only Victor’s opponent still fighting.

"Victor!" Dahlia shouted, already moving to help.

He didn’t need it. A final, precise strike found the creature’s throat, and it staggered back into the water, thrashing weakly before finally, mercifully, going still.

Silence fell over the flooded intersection, broken only by their own ragged breathing.

"That’s three," Victor said, chest heaving. "In one attack. Coordinated."

"They’re hunting in packs now," Silver said grimly, already scanning the water for any further threat. "That’s new. That’s not good."

Dahlia crouched beside the nearest body, working a crystal free from the ruined remains of its skull with practiced, efficient motions. "At least they’re still dropping these."

"Small mercies," Victor said, though his voice carried little genuine relief.

They gathered what they could and pressed onward, the pace slower now, more cautious, all three of them acutely aware that the water around them had become considerably more dangerous than simple flooding alone. The rain continued its relentless fall, visibility poor, every ripple and disturbance in the water now demanding full, immediate attention.

They found their next obstacle just past midday — a collapsed bridge blocking the only viable crossing toward the district the boy’s map indicated, the flooded gap beneath it stretching nearly forty feet across, current running fast and unpredictable through the wreckage.

"We swim it," Silver said, studying the gap with grim assessment. "No other way across without adding hours to the route."

"After what we just fought?" Dahlia asked, disbelief plain in her voice.

"I don’t like it either," Silver admitted. "But we don’t have hours to spare, not with whatever’s tracking through this water getting bolder by the day."

Victor closed his eyes briefly, focusing, the familiar pressure building behind his temples as he reached for whatever sense had kept them alive through every threat so far. "I don’t feel anything close. Not right now. That won’t last long, but it’s clear enough to move."

"How long do we have," Silver asked.

"Minutes, maybe. Not more."

"Then we don’t waste them standing here debating it." Silver was already moving toward the water’s edge, checking the current’s direction, calculating the fastest line across. "Dahlia, you take point once we’re in. If anything surfaces, you’ll feel it in the water before either of us sees it."

"Understood." She rolled her shoulders once, steadying herself, water already responding faintly to her presence even before she’d fully entered it.

They crossed quickly, the current dragging harder than any of them expected, Dahlia using short bursts of her own water manipulation to help steady their path, Silver’s python coiling protectively around his shoulders in readiness the entire way across. Twice, something brushed against Silver’s leg beneath the surface, cold and fast, gone before he could react to it, and he pushed forward without slowing, trusting the momentum more than any attempt to fight the current directly.

They reached the far bank exhausted, soaked through, and breathing hard, though nothing further emerged to test them during the crossing itself.

"That’s one obstacle down," Silver said, hauling himself up onto solid ground, extending a hand to pull Dahlia up after him. "How many more before we’re actually there?"

"According to the map, maybe three miles," Victor said, checking the boy’s careful directions once more, water still dripping steadily from his soaked clothes. "If nothing else slows us down."

"Something will," Dahlia said, wringing water from her sleeve with grim humor. "It always does."

They pressed onward through the afternoon, the flooded city growing stranger and more hostile with every passing hour — abandoned vehicles half-submerged and rusting, storefronts gutted by scavengers weeks earlier, the distant, occasional sound of raised voices or gunfire carrying across the water from directions none of them could pinpoint precisely. Twice they altered course to avoid clusters of survivors watching them from windows and rooftops with the particular, calculating attention of people deciding whether strangers were worth the risk of approaching.

Neither group made the attempt. Whatever caution had kept the city’s scattered survivors alive this long, it apparently extended to avoiding three armed, clearly capable travelers who moved like they had somewhere urgent to be.

By the time the light began fading toward evening, all three of them carried the particular, bone-deep exhaustion of a day spent constantly, vigilantly alert, adrenaline burning through reserves none of them had much left to spare.

"We should find shelter," Victor said, scanning the surrounding buildings for anything defensible. "Before dark makes everything worse."

They found a partially intact office building a few blocks further, its upper floors dry, and Silver called the stop, all three of them collapsing gratefully into whatever meager comfort the space offered.

"Two miles left," Silver said, checking the map one final time before exhaustion finally claimed even his usual iron discipline. "Tomorrow, we finish this."

Dahlia leaned her head against the wall, closing her eyes, one hand still curled loosely around the small pouch of crystals they’d collected throughout the day’s brutal fighting. "That church will tear itself apart within the week," she said, matter-of-fact, no real emotion behind it. "Nothing left there worth going back for."

"Nothing was worth going back for the moment we had directions," Victor said, checking his knife over out of habit rather than necessity. "People turning on each other over food isn’t news. It’s just math running its course."

Silver grunted in agreement, already closing his eyes, saving what energy remained for tomorrow rather than spending it on anything that didn’t move them closer to the building. "Two miles. We rest, we move at first light, we don’t stop until we’re standing in front of both of them."

"Persephone and Penelope," Dahlia said quietly, more to herself than to either of them, the two names settling like a private anchor before she let exhaustion finally take her.

Nobody said anything further. The rain continued its steady assault against the windows, the flooded city stretching dark and dangerous in every direction, and all three of them settled into the particular, efficient rest of people who’d long since stopped wasting energy on anything except the single objective still standing between them and the family they’d crossed a drowning city to reach.