John plunged into the water like a cannonball.
The impact drove the air from his lungs. Cold shocked every nerve ending. The current grabbed him immediately, violent and unforgiving, and pulled him under.
He tumbled. No up or down. Just spinning chaos and white foam and the roar of water everywhere.
His back screamed where the claw marks were. Salt or minerals in the water burned the open wounds. But that pain was distant compared to the immediate problem of drowning.
John kicked. Fought toward what he hoped was the surface. His head broke water for a second. He gasped, got half air and half water, choked.
The current yanked him back under.
He spun again. Tumbling over rocks he couldn't see. Something hard clipped his shoulder. Then his hip. The river was trying to break him apart.
Another gasp of air. Another mouthful of water. His lungs were burning now. His vision tunneling.
Then he saw it. Downstream from him. A small gray shape being tossed by the current.
Selio.
The hybrid was struggling weakly. Its webbed hands paddling but making no progress against the current. Its head kept going under. Staying under longer each time.
Drowning.
John tried to swim. Tried to fight the current and reach Selio. His arms pulled through the water with desperate strength. His legs kicked. But the river was stronger. So much stronger.
The current separated them. John went left around a boulder. Selio went right. The distance grew.
"SELIO!" John tried to scream but got a mouthful of water instead. Choked. Coughed. Went under again.
He surfaced. Looked frantically for the hybrid. Couldn't see it anymore. Just white water and rocks and more white water.
John reached. Stretched. Tried one more time to change direction. To fight the current. To do something.
His head cracked against a rock.
Pain exploded through his skull. His vision went white. Then black. Then nothing.
The current carried his unconscious body downstream. Away from Selio. Away from the waterfall. Away from everything.
Two hours later.
John's consciousness returned slowly. First came the awareness of movement. Swaying. Rhythmic. Like being on a boat but on land.
Then came the smell. Unwashed bodies. Leather. Horses.
Then pain. His head throbbed. His back burned. Every part of him hurt in new and exciting ways.
He opened his eyes.
Bars. Iron bars. A cage.
Again.
John's heart sank. He was in another fucking cage.
This one was inside a cart. A covered wagon with wooden sides and a canvas top. Through the bars he could see other cages. Other prisoners. The cart was moving, wheels creaking over rough terrain.
But the people outside the cart weren't beast folk.
They were human.
Human slavers.
John closed his eyes and tried not to scream.