Lonny Namen broke surface, pumping his arms, coughing up oil-water. All was confusion: the entire world consisted of rollicking surf and too much sky. A chunk of the dock wobbled past. A soaked ball cap swirled nearby. He could hear the others cursing, splashing, but couldn't see them. He swam for the boardwalk with powerful strokes, oil clinging to his limbs .
He became aware of two figures swimming parallel to him, Stanley and Carl, he thought. Looking around he saw others: the Oriental guy, and ahead of him, Ned. Handlebar was nowhere to be seen.
Someone shouted, "It's behind you!"
He craned his neck as he swam, saw a dark hump break behind them—way behind. He made eye contact with Stanley; Stanley seemed to grin, as if to say, Plenty of time.
And then he was yanked below the surfac
