For a few moments, Jack was sure he must be dead. The sensation began to creep cruelly back into his body. It felt like someone was holding a blowtorch to his freezing skin. His legs cramped up as if his muscles had been slammed into a vice, and he cried out. He was alive all right. Death could never hurt as much as this. A trickle of blood ran down his cheek from a cut above his eye.
He reached for his calves, trying to rub the muscles into easing off. Where was he? How long had he been lying there? Many hours. It was growing dark. The moon was full and heavy in the greying sky, like a huge boulder about to drop and crush him.
Thick mud slurped at his shoulders. He was lying in shallow waters. Further out, Jack could hear the foaming rapids.
How far down the river had he drifted? Jack surveyed the rushing water. A little way upstream, a line of stones sticking out of the water like a row of bald heads. They acted as a kind of breakwater. If he'd knocked into one and then been pushed behind the line … Yeah, that was it. The gentler current had then carried him here to the river's edge.
Jack took a deep, shuddering breath. He'd made it. He'd had an unbelievable adventure, but he'd made it. Through the pain, through the shock – or maybe because of it – Jack found himself laughing.
Until something growled behind him.
His first thought was that the bear had somehow found him again. But the growl seemed somehow … different. Too exhausted to turn around, Jack let his head fall back. He had a crazy upturned view of the gloomy riverbank, and his weary brain fought to make sense of it.
A stretch of slimy mud. A tangle of vegetation. Weird, misshapen tree roots reaching out deformed fingers. Two narrowed yellow eyes, glinting, low down in the shadows.
The eyes came closer and the shadows seemed to swallow him whole. 'How're you doing?'
Jack could barely hear the voice. He was back in the freezing water, deep down and drowning.
'C'mon, wake up, huh? Hey, what's your name?'
Why should he wake up? He knew he would start hurting all over again if he woke up; if he let himself be dragged back to life. But the water was growing warmer already, and thickening, until it felt more like blood.
Jack shook his head and moaned softly. As his body began to thaw out, he felt the pain creeping back into his muscles.
'You've been asleep for ages.'
The blackness was melting into blues and purples, a swelling bruise over his vision. Jack's body started to thud, like the echoes of a giant's footsteps were hammering on him. He felt sick. He wanted to go back into the cold, numb darkness.
Except now he knew. In the darkness, something was waiting for him …
He jolted fully awake, feeling the urge to scream – and glimpsed anxious faces he didn't recognize, watching him.
Then the darkness reached out for him again.
Jack was dimly aware of time passing. Of the moon and the sun switching places in his view outside. Of hands that spooned a bitter-tasting liquid into his dry mouth and rubbed a pungent lotion into his stinging skin.
Maybe he was in a hospital. That must be it, he decided. He had a fever and he was in the hospital.
Eventually, Jack grew bold enough to open his eyes and look around him. An almost-full moon glowed in the dark square of a window opposite him. It seemed like an accusing eye, looking in at him. Unable to meet its gaze, Jack turned away.
Through the gloom, Jack saw he was lying in a narrow bed in a narrow room. An open door led to a tiny ensuite bathroom. The only other furniture was the dark bulk of a dressing table and mirror lurking in the shadows against the wall.
The rattle of a key turning in a lock made Jack look up. He blinked as three figures entered the room: a man, a woman, and a boy around Jack's age.
'You're awake!' remarked the woman with satisfaction. 'I mean, really awake!'
Jack took in her gaunt face, framed by straight, dark hair. He didn't think he recognized her – or the others.
She came closer, out of the shadows. Her eyes were a cool blue, but her broad smile seemed warm. 'We've been worried about you, young man. Very worried.'
'Are you a nurse?' Jack croaked.
'Used to be,' the woman said briskly, peering at Jack's bandages. 'Used to be a senior nurse, at that.'
'So I'm not in a hospital?' Jack asked nervously.
'Better than that,' the woman assured him. 'You're with friends.' She fluffed up his pillow. 'Hospitals are such unhealthy places, anyway. The bigger they are, the less they care. That's not the kind of nursing I like.' She smiled at him again. 'Marcie Dane. How do you do.' She held out a hand.
'My name's Jack.' He tried to raise his hand but found it wrapped heavily in bandages. He stared at it in confusion.
'Jack,' echoed Marcie, as if she was trying the name on for size. Then she clicked her tongue sympathetically and lowered her hand. 'I'm sorry, Jack. I was only fooling with you. No handshakes for you for a while. Not for a long while.'
Jack realized that his legs and face were also swathed in bandages and dressings. He groaned, trying to panic. They had to have a very good reason for binding him.
The man stepped forward now, a faint smile on his lips. He was about forty, with close-cropped greying hair and a well-groomed beard. 'How're you feeling, son?'
'OK,' Jack said, swallowing thickly.
'Good,' said the boy. He sat on the end of the bed and grinned, running a hand through his spiky red hair. 'You've been out of it for ages.'
'Oh … was it you who was calling to me?' Jack asked.
The boy nodded. 'I'm Wes,' he informed Jack.
'And I'm Henry, Wesley's father,' the man added. 'You can call me Hal.'
'So,' asked Wes, still smiling. 'Jack what?'
'Rivers. Jack Rivers,' Jack replied and the Wes chuckled.
'Now isn't that just ironic,' he said and tapped his lap in amazement.
Marcie Dane unwrapped some fresh bandages. 'Well, Jack Rivers, you must be some swimmer to get through those rapids.
Jack winced as Marcie eased the stained dressings away from his sore knuckles. 'What happened to me? How did I get here?' He frowned. 'Where is here?'
Hal was still watching him intently. 'You're on our island.'
Jack stared back, eyes wide. 'You have your island?'
'Uh-huh,' said Wes. 'Great place to live – but it can be a drag when the causeway is flooded and you're stuck here.' He grinned, then shot a glance at his mother, as if wondering what to say next.
Marcie nodded encouragingly. 'It was lucky I found you,' Wes went on. 'You were unconscious and bleeding on the bank.'
Everyone looked at Jack solemnly, as if this had somehow been his fault.
'I think I remember … ' Jack croaked. 'There was a bear, or … ' The creature had rushed for him, jaws snapping—
Jack shuddered, unable to continue. He shook his head to try to clear it.
Wes's pale grey eyes were wide. 'We went out hunting for whatever it was,' he said. 'But there was no sign. Must have headed back to the mainland before the floods.'
'Floods?' Jack looked at him blankly.
'It's been raining heavily these past three days,' Marcie told him as she wrapped clean dressings around his arms.
Jack shut his eyes and felt his head throb as he tried to process all this information. 'I've been here three days?' he asked incredulously. 'What about my mom and dad? They must be freaking out.'
'Sorry, honey.' Marcie gave him a small, sympathetic smile. 'As Wes said, the island's cut off when the causeway is flooded. And we have no phone line here. We haven't been able to get in touch with anyone.'
'But … ' Jack struggled up in bed. 'Don't you have a cellphone?'
Hal Dane shook his head. 'Sorry, Jack. We chose this place as a retreat from the outside world. A total retreat.'
Marcie patted Jack's arm reassuringly. 'Don't worry, honey. As soon as those floods clear, we'll get you right back to your family. Promise.' She smiled again. 'And in the meantime, I'm here to make sure you get well again.'
Jack looked at his bandaged hands and wrists. 'Did an animal do this to me?'
'No,' Marcie replied. 'That was just bad luck. You got tangled up in some Belladonna.'
Jack frowned. 'I did what?'
'Deadly Nightshade,' Hal explained. 'You must've hauled yourself out of the water, pulling on the roots. Pretty toxic stuff; got in through the cuts on your hands.'
Jack let his head sink back on the pillow. 'I just don't remember,' he sighed.
Marcie placed a cool hand on his burning forehead. 'Just relax, dear. My herbal cures have been fixing you up. Better than any fancy drugs a hospital can give you.' She nodded decisively. 'And I should know, right?'
'Right,' Jack replied wearily. 'Thanks,' he added. 'Really. Thank you for looking after me.'
'The pleasure's all ours,' Marcie assured him. She looked at the others. 'Right, boys?'
Hal and Wes both smiled at him.
Jack tried to smile back, but he felt his eyelids drooping. As he gave up and let the blackness come for him again, he could feel Marcie Dane still close by, almost like a shifting shadow.