water. Another five, six minutes, the water will cover it. At full tide, in about forty-five minutes, it?ll be
up to your waist. Do you get the drift?”
Murphy looked around, wide-eyed. There were sharks all over the place, circling the tiny island as if
they could smell him.
“Here, I?ll give you a break,” Stick said. “You won?t have to look at them.”
Stick turned the spotlight off.
“No-o-o,” Murphy moaned.
The moon dipped behind the clouds. Murphy was rooted to his spot. He was beyond fear now, afraid
to move in any direction. He squinted into the darkness but it was too dark to see anything.
But he could hear them.
“Get me offa here, please,” Murphy pleaded. There was no bravado left.
Stick replied, “The tide?s coming in, Weasel. In two or three minutes you?ll feel it around your
ankles.”
Murphy?s feet squirmed beneath him. He had trouble catching his breath. He was overwhelmed with
fear. Then he felt the first cold, wet fingers seeping through the soles of his shoes, down through the
shoelace holes, around the tongues of his expensive brogans, clutching at his feet.
Murphy suddenly started to babble. He couldn?t talk fast enough. His words tumbled over each other
arid he started to stutter:
“They?re going to Thunder Point! To Chevos? p-p-p-place! They went out on the boat to celebrate. .
“Celebrate what?”
“Costello?s the new capo di capi.”
“When are they coming in?”
“They?re due to get to the marina about t-t-ten. ..“
“How do you know that?”
“That?s when I?m supposed to be back. I g-g-got a coupla hours off „cause I get seasick.”
“Who?s going to be there?”
“It?s everybody. It?s the whole goddamn w-w-works, except maybe for Nance. I. . . I swear to G-G-
God I don?t know where he is. Please, oh, God, please get me offa here. That?s all I know. All I know,
