CHAPTER FORTY-THREE
I squeeze the knife so hard my knuckles whiten.
“Go away!” I shout at the creature.
She doesn’t even blink. Her head rises from the muck atop a neck like an anaconda.
“I’m not a pucking goat,” I shout, waving the knife. “Last warning.”
Nessie strikes. Her maw opens as her head flashes toward me. It takes all my martial arts training to stay still and wait for my moment. When the teeth are ready to close around me, I strike.
My blade sinks into her squishy tongue. Yes!
Nessie jerks her head back, ripping the knife from my hand. I dive for the sewer exit and swim for all I’m worth.
Behind me, Nessie roars.
My arms windmill with insane speed, and the light draws nearer. I might be beating a world record of some kind—assuming some sadist keeps track of sewer swim t
