"Feehan, Christine - Leopard 02 - Wild Rain" - читать интересную книгу автора (Feehan Christine)

swallowed half of the river, Rachael began an attempt to catch at one or two of
the larger trees the force of the water had toppled. The first one she missed
and her heart nearly stopped as she felt the pull of the water dragging her
downward again. She wasn't certain she had enough strength left to fight the
monstrous suction of the
river.
Her sleeve caught on a snag below the surface, jerking her to a standstill while
the water swirled around her. She clawed frantically for a branch. Leaves came
away in her hand. The water tugged relentlessly, pulling at her clothes. One
boot flew off and spun away from her. Her fingertips found the rounded edge of a
thick branch and dug in. Her shirt ripped and the water claimed her, pouring
over her head, forcing her toward the bottom. Somehow she hung on to the
stationary branch. Rachael wrapped both arms around it and hugged it tightly,
once more breaking the surface with her face, gasping for air, shivering with
terror. She was a strong swimmer, but there was no way she could stay alive in
the raging waters.
Rachael clung to the branch, fighting for air. She was already exhausted, her
arms and legs leaden. Although she
8 Christine Feehan

had gone with the current, trying to keep her head above water had been a
terrible fight. Even now the water fought to get her back, pulling at her,
dragging at her body continually. When she was able she edged along the fallen
tree until she was wedged between the trunk and the branch and could pull
herself up enough to gain the massive root system. She was on the far side of
the river now, away from the rebels and hopefully too difficult too see in the
downpour.

Concentrating on each inch she could gain, Rachael began to scoot onto the
closest branch. A snake struck her hip and was swept away. She couldn't tell if
it was alive or dead but it set her heart pounding all over again. Cautiously
she stretched her body along the root, pulled herself up out of the water, lying
there panting, afraid of her precarious position. One wrong move could send her
toppling back into the water. The tree shuddered as the water tried to pull it
free of its anchor.

The branch was slick with mud from the embankment where it had torn lose, but it
formed a bridge of sorts Jo the shore. It seemed a million miles away. All the
while the rain poured down, adding to the slippery surface. Rachael wrapped her
arms around the root and slowly scooted, inch by inch, over the twisting,
curving limb. Several times she slipped and had to hug the root, her heart
pounding until she regained her courage and could continue forward. An eternity
later she managed to step onto the bank. Her foot sank into mire that sucked at
her boot when she tried to pull it free.

Rachael took the remaining boot off and threw it far out into the water, away
from the trees where it might get stuck and call attention to where she had
managed to get ashore. Her one hope was that the tree, holding on by a few
precarious roots, would be swept downstream, leaving no trace of her escape.