And then the rain fell. Softly at first, a few fat, pattering drops on the windshield … then more of them, a bucket being emptied, then a roaring flood. It came shockingly fast. It wasn’t like rain at all, really, more like water with a few bubbles of air trapped inside. As if they’d suddenly been plunged into the deep, dark sea.

“Faster,” Shane shouted across to Hannah. A flash of lightning from the dark clouds above turned his face into blue-white stone, except for the panic Claire saw in his eyes. “C’mon, drive, lady! We’re going to get caught out here!”

She tried, she really did, but the water was rising so fast in the streets that driving faster built up a wave—first in front of the tires, and then at the bumper of the car. It took only a few short minutes for the narrow roads to flood up to the curbs. The drainage wasn’t working—no, Claire realized, it was working, just in reverse. Muddy, tainted water was flowing up out of the drains, adding to the rain that was falling.

The draug were trying to drown them fast and hard.

Hannah had to slow the car as it approached the next intersection. There was a dip in the pavement there, a deep one, and there was no telling what would happen if she drove into it. No, there was—Claire remembered what had happened to Eve’s hearse, with its burned-out motor.

The draug could disable the car.

“Turning around!” Hannah shouted, and executed a fast, sliding turn that pushed Claire hard against Myrnin. She grabbed for the back of the seat and wished she’d had time to hunt for a seat belt, but there was no room between them to fasten one now. “Going for a side road. Richard, keep your eyes open. You see anything coming, shoot it.”

She drove at a probably-too-fast speed down the side road, as closed and lightless buildings flashed past; gutters gushed water in thick, silvery streams, from what Claire could make out. The rain was coming down at a breathless pace, and it sounded like a hail of dropped ball bearings on the roof of the cruiser. They’re supposed to be getting weaker, not stronger. Or is this their desperation effort, since they know we can hurt them?

Something hit that was harder than just a raindrop, with a sharp crack, and Claire twisted around to look behind them. There was a draug crouched on the trunk lid, leering in at them, its face smearing and running in the rain. It had a thick chunk of brick in its hand, and slammed it against the back window a second time.

Claire saw the spiderweb fracture form in the safety glass.

“Brake!” she yelled. Hannah didn’t hesitate; she hit them hard, sending the front end of the car diving down and the heavily loaded back up, and the draug lost its balance. It rolled forward over the roof, over the front windshield, onto the hood, and suddenly turned liquid and re-formed facing back toward them, snarling.