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"Stop it"

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.

"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.

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

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

"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-"

"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-"

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.

"Stop it"

Deke stood thoughtfully, head bent. His short hair was still dripping a little.

Then it squeezed under. He thought he heard a noise for a moment-a rough noise, like a roll of canvas being pulled through a narrow window-but that might have only been nerves.

Then it squeezed under. He thought he heard a noise for a moment-a rough noise, like a roll of canvas being pulled through a narrow window-but that might have only been nerves.

It came with an oily, frightening speed, and as it did, Randy saw the colors Rachel had seen-fantastic reds and yellows and blues spiraling across an ebony surface like limp plastic' or dark, lithe Naugahyde. It rose and fell with the waves and that changed the colors, made them swirl and blend. Randy realized he was going to fall over, fall right into it, he could feel himself tilting out- With the last of his strength he brought his right fist up into his own nose-the gesture of a man stifling a cough, only a little high and a lot hard. His nose flared with pain, he felt blood run warmly down his face, and then he was able to step back, crying out: "Don't look at it

"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?"

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.

Then it squeezed under. He thought he heard a noise for a moment-a rough noise, like a roll of canvas being pulled through a narrow window-but that might have only been nerves.

"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."

"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?"

"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-"

"We just picked up and went," Deke said.

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.

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

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.

"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-"

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