Risking everything, Ryan dived wildly at the creature and managed to grab a hairy leg. Panting like a dog, the swampie kicked at him with a clawed foot, and that gave the one-eyed man an idea. As hard as he could, Ryan drove a rock-hard fist directly upward between its legs. Mutie or norm, if the creature was a male, that should stop anything for a few seconds.
The mutie gasped in pain and staggered backward a step. Ruthlessly, Ryan slammed it again in the same place, then drew his blaster and fired at its knee.
The silenced weapon coughed gently, and blood erupted from the wound, as the 9 mm round plowed through flesh and bone.
Screaming in agony, the swampie dropped to the ground and started crawling toward the stream. Ryan fired again, the flash from the muzzle showing its precious bundle was still tightly held in inhuman arms.
Then others were with him, firing their own weapons at the crawling beast. The power of Doc’s LeMat was so great that a single blast removed the head, the muzzle-flash illuminating the bluff for yards in every direction.
The decapitated body shuddered and convulsively released its grip on the screaming baby. As the companions watched in horror, the infant rolled straight over the edge of the bluff, and they heard a tiny splash.
“Fireblast!” Ryan cursed, charging forward. Heedless of the sharp rocks and briar patches blocking their way, nearly everybody scrambled hastily down the steep incline, grunting and gasping as flesh was torn every foot of the way. Only Krysty stayed behind.
Dropping her heavy bearskin coat, Krysty raised her hands and launched herself off the bluff, diving straight into the stream. She disappeared beneath the icy water.
Clothes and skin ripping from the thorns, Ryan and J.B. skidded down the muddy banks, dropping their blasters and wading chest deep into the freezing waters.
“Krysty!” Ryan bellowed, the icy temperatures knifing into his body. He took a breath and ducked underwater, but quickly stood again, his body shaking with the cold.
“No good,” he gasped. “Can’t see a thing.”
“Make torches!” J.B. shouted uphill through cupped hands. “And get moving!”
Suddenly, lights washed over the bluff and a horn sounded.
“Anybody hurt?” Mildred called.
In a geyser of water, Krysty surfaced from the middle of the stream with the child in her arms.
Fighting shivers, Ryan and J.B. helped her to the shore and she laid the infant on the rocky ground, brushing away the tangles of blond hair off its face.
“Mother Gaia, no,” Krysty whispered. The small form was completely still, the lips a deathly pale blue.
“Millie, we need you now!” J.B. yelled.
Gathering the child in his arms, Ryan braced himself and charged up the incline, ignoring the thorns that seemed to be everywhere. Seconds later, the man reached the top, and pushing past the weeping mother, he thrust the little body at Mildred.
“Not,” he panted, “breathing. In water.”
Placing the child in the beams of the truck, the physician checked for a pulse, then listened for a heartbeat. Neither was present. Opening the baby’s mouth, she checked for obstructions. Then, tilting the head backward to open the throat, Mildred inhaled and exhaled into the tiny mouth.
Minutes later, J.B. and a shivering Krysty struggled to the top of the bluff, and Doc draped the bearskin coat over her. She nodded her thanks and watched along with everybody else as Mildred continued breathing into the infant’s mouth without stopping.
Minutes passed in silence until, with a ragged cough, the baby vomited some water, then started to cry as if there were no tomorrow.
“Alive! My baby is alive!” Sara cried joyously, gathering the girl into her arms. Dean gave her an old blanket from the truck, and the woman wrapped the child up like a miniature mummy.
J.B. draped his leather jacket over Mildred and helped her stand.
“Sh-she’ll be fine,” Mildred wheezed, trying to catch her own breath. She was close to hyperventilation from doing CPR for so long. “Just keep her warm.”
“Thank you,” Hector replied, sliding off his coat to drape it over the mother and child.
“Everybody in the truck,” Doc rumbled loudly. “We better get you folks into dry clothes fast.”