When he struck the water, Scruffy sank like a stone. Pain flared this his leg, but was almost immediately overcome by the icy chill of the water. Scruffy tried to yelp, but his mouth filled with seawater. Down and down, he sank, tossed about by the violent currents.
Around him, Dead Things were crashing into the water. Their outstretched arms and gnashing teeth frightened Scruffy terribly, and he kicked and struggled to swim despite the pain it caused him. His lungs were burning by the time he breached the surface.
Taking deep breaths and snuffling the water around him, Scruffy looked around for the shore. The waves crashed all around him, rocking him in the tempestuous sea. The water washed over him, pushing him underwater again. His Instincts told him to just keep swimming. No matter what direction he picked, he’d do better than if he just held his ground.
Like all Labradors, Scruffy was at home in the water and was adept at the doggy paddle. Instinct prevailed, and he broke through the surface of the icy water. Letting the waves rock and push him as they will, Scruffy kept on swimming.
His leg pained in greatly. The same one that he hurt when he fell out of Vernon and again when he jumped from the roof of the house on the island, Scruffy had injured it further when he fell into the water. Still, the leg worked despite the pain, and a combination of adrenaline and hypothermic chill took his mind from it.
Slowly but surely, Scruffy was faltering. Just a few minutes in the deathly cold water and exposure would kill him. That is, if he didn’t drown first. Scruffy struggled to stay afloat, but his head bobbed beneath the surface again.
Still kicking and struggling to survive, Scruffy was surprised when his paws touched bottom. Looking up, he could see the surface was just above him. His lungs screamed for air, and he kicked against the sea floor. Again he surfaced, but this time he saw he was very near the beach.
With a tremendous effort, Scruffy swam towards the shore. Soon, he was no longer swimming but walking instead. On trembling legs he tottered out of the water and flopped down on the beach to rest.
A few moments passed with the sound of crashing waves and screaming wind for company. The fog had lifted somewhat, and Scruffy could see Breakwater Point not terribly far away. The lighthouse was clearly visible, towering over everything it surveyed.
Overhead, an unfamiliar noise startled Scruffy. A terrifying machine like nothing he’d ever seen flew overhead. The helicopter was a loud contraption that disturbed Scruffy, with spinning blades and blinding spotlights. Fortunately, it paid him no heed and flew straight for Breakwater Point.
The searchlights lit up the lighthouse, contrary to the structure’s intended purpose. It was difficult to make out from this distance, but Scruffy thought he could see a Man standing on top of the lighthouse. A distant boom echoed from the helicopter, and the lone figure on top of the lighthouse fell into the ocean. Veering aside, the helicopter flew off.
It wasn’t long before Scruffy caught his breath. He wanted nothing more than to find some place warm to sleep for the night, but Instinct told him he had to keep moving. The Carrion were still out there.
On shaking paws he walked down the length of the beach. The shore was stoney and uncomfortable to trod upon, but the breaking surf nearby soothed him somewhat. After limping half a kilometre down the beach, the stoney shore gave way to a somewhat sandy beach.
Scruffy saw something in the sand that gave him pause. Inching closer, he crawled over to investigate. On the beach was a familiar looking dog’s leash. A quick sniff confirmed what he knew to be true already: it was his leash! Scruffy spotted tracks in the sand nearby, Man tracks. Sniffing at them, Scruffy was disappointed to smell Carrion. Yet, some other odour caught his attention. Leaning in further, pressing his nose practically against the sandy foot prints, Scruffy tried his best to pinpoint the familiar smell. Suddenly it dawned on him: it was Master!
Tail wagging, Scruffy was excited to have found his Master’s scent again. The Carrion smell gave him pause, however. Why did Master and Carrion smells mingle together? The only possible explanation was that Master had come by this way, and Carrion had followed him.
Shivering from the cold, Scruffy knew he didn’t want Master to become one of the Dead Things. Picking up his leash in his teeth, he set off in the heading of the tracks. Limping and shaking, he loyally followed his Master’s spoor back into the heart of the city. Nothing would keep them apart, not even the Carrion.
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