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"It's trying to get under the raft," Deke said grimly. "What's this shit, Pancho?" Randy looked-he looked very carefully. He saw the thing nuzzling the side of the raft, flattening to a shape like half a pizza. For a moment it seemed to be piling up there, thickening, and he had an alarming vision of it piling up enough to run onto the surface of the raft.

"Did it go under?" LaVerne said, and there was something oddly nonchalant about her tone, as if she were trying with all her might to be conversational, but she was screaming, too.

"You know where we are," Randy said. "You know as well as I do. We turned off Route 41, we came up eight miles of back road-"

"Did it go under the raft? Is it under us?"

"So? A caretaker-" Deke was sounding a little pissed now, a little off-balance. A little scared? For the first time tonight, for the first time this month, this year, maybe for the first time in his whole life? Now there was an awesome thought-Deke loses his fear-cherry. Randy was not sure it was happening, but he thought maybe it was... and he took a perverse pleasure in it.

So she sat down, arms crossed over her breasts, hands cupping her elbows, shivering. She looked at Randy, her eyes telling him he could come back, put his arm around her, it was okay now.

"Next month, yeah," Randy said, and shut his mouth with a snap. He had also succeeded in scaring himself.

He looked away instead, back at the dark circle on the water. It just floated there, not coming any closer, but not going away, either. He looked toward the shore and there was the beach, a ghostly white crescent that seemed to float. The trees behind it made a dark, bulking horizon line. He thought he could see Deke's Camaro, but he wasn't sure.

"Yes," Deke said. He looked at Randy. "I'm going to swim for it right now," he said. "If it's under there I've got a good chance."

"You know where we are," Randy said. "You know as well as I do. We turned off Route 41, we came up eight miles of back road-"

"Yes," Deke said. He looked at Randy. "I'm going to swim for it right now," he said. "If it's under there I've got a good chance."

I guess. If it still wants chow-" He shrugged.

"We wait," he said. "Let it eat fish." Fifteen minutes passed. They didn't talk. It got colder. It was maybe fifty degrees and all three of them were in their underwear. After the first ten minutes, Randy could hear the brisk, intermittent clickety-click of his teeth. LaVerne had tried to move next to Deke, but he pushed her away-gently but firmly enough.

"Shut your pie-hole," Deke said absently, and Randy laughed in spite of himself-no matter how many times Deke said that, it always slew him. "If we have to spend the night out here, we do. Somebody'11 hear us yelling tomorrow. We're hardly in the middle of the Australian Outback, are we, Randy?" Randy said nothing. "Are we?"

"Stop it"

"Did it go under?" LaVerne said, and there was something oddly nonchalant about her tone, as if she were trying with all her might to be conversational, but she was screaming, too.

"Summer cottages. This is October. They're empty, the whole bucking funch of them. We got here and you had to drive around the damn gate, NO TRESPASSING signs every fifty feet-"

I guess. If it still wants chow-" He shrugged.

I guess. If it still wants chow-" He shrugged.

Don't look right at it, the colors make you loopy"

"Summer cottages. This is October. They're empty, the whole bucking funch of them. We got here and you had to drive around the damn gate, NO TRESPASSING signs every fifty feet-"

"Maybe it'll just... you know... leave us alone." Deke said, "Maybe pigs will-" "It's moving," Randy said.

"Stop it"

"Yes," Deke said. He looked at Randy. "I'm going to swim for it right now," he said. "If it's under there I've got a good chance."

"Next month, yeah," Randy said, and shut his mouth with a snap. He had also succeeded in scaring himself.

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