half hour. The chart shows three feet near shore
at mean low water. High tide will bring it up to four and a half at the
very least. That's plenty for this barge. Get inshore and cut corners.
We won't have to stick to the channel."

Scotty swung the wheel instantly, and the houseboat took a new course,
leading them closer to shore. "Better keep an eye out for logs or
pilings," Scotty warned. "No rocks in the area, so we don't have to
worry about shoals."

The wooded shore slid by, the trees gradually giving way to low scrub
and marsh grass as they neared the mouth of the Little Choptank. Rick
alternately kept an eye out ahead and checked their position on the
chart. They were in about five feet of water, more than enough for the
shallow-draft houseboat. His principal worry was the outboard
propellers. He didn't want to break one on a log that might be sticking
up underwater.

The squall was closer now, and the sky was growing dark. Rick estimated
that they had no more than ten minutes before the storm would hit. He
had to look up at a sharp angle to see the storm front. Visibility was
down to zero directly under it. Whitecaps and a roiling sea told him
there was plenty of wind in the squall. He doubted that the houseboat
could head into it successfully. The wind would catch the high cabin
sides and force the houseboat onto the shore.

Scotty swung around the northern tip of land that marked the mouth of
the Little Choptank. "We won't make it," he said, glancing at the chart.

Rick nodded. "But the wind will be behind us. We can drive right into
the mouth of the nearest creek. According to the chart, there's a cove
just inside the mouth where we ought to be out of the wind." He put his
finger on the place, and suddenly a chill ran through him. The nearest
safe harbor was Swamp Creek, where Link Harris had vanished!

There wasn't time to talk about it. He would have to be prepared to drop
the anchor quickly. "I'm going up on the bow," he said. "Once into the
creek, turn as hard as you can into the wind, then cut the power. I'll
heave the anchor over and the wind pressure on the boat can set it. But
keep the motors turning over in case it doesn't hold."

"Got it," Scotty agreed.

Rick stepped out of the cockpit onto the catwalk. The cabin top was just
chest-high, and he could hold on by grabbing the safety rails that ran
along the sides of the large sun deck. He moved swiftly along the walk
to the foredeck, a sma