The water didn’t feel like an entry point; it felt like a heavy woolen blanket dropped across Elias’s mouth. It was flat, black, and tasted of the low-grade fuel that had been seeping from the fuel dock’s storage tanks since the mid-nineties.
The current didn't catch him with a sudden jerk; it simply took him by the hips and slid him sideways into the dark space between the hemlock piles, where the timber was fuzzy with green barnacles that tore at the wool of his tuxedo sleeves the
moment his elbows cleared the ladder.
He kept his chin up, his eyes fixed on the rusted underside of the deck planks two feet above him.
Through the half-inch gaps in the timber, the white spears of the Suburbans' searchlights were still slicing the fog into horizontal ribbons, but down here, in the grea
