Or he could try swimming out, getting safely through a hundred-yard belt of boiling white surf without drowning or being smashed against the rocks. Then he would have to swim some unknown distance along a totally unknown coast until he found a better landing place, and then back to shore probably through still more surf. Blade was a superb swimmer who could easily cover twenty miles at a stretch. But that didn't mean he liked such a plunge into the unknown.

Unfortunately, he didn't seem to have much choice. A look along the beach showed no signs of food or fresh water anywhere in sight. Besides, the line of weeds and shellfish on the rocks showed him that even a few more hours might be too long to stay here. The high-tide mark was a good eight feet above his head. As the tide came in, the cove would turn into a boiling cauldron. He would be tossed around like an onion in a stew until he drowned or crashed against the rocks.

But there was that reef extending out to sea. Blade shaded his eyes against the glare of the sun and examined the reef more closely. The spray broke impressively enough over it, but it looked as though the far end was out in deep water. Out there he would find fewer rocks jutting up to crash against. Blade stretched again to test his muscles. He walked to the base of the reef, then started out along it.

He moved slowly and carefully, picking his footing one step at a time. The rocks were crumbling and wet, and many were also slick with weeds or encrusted with shellfish. He knew he would be finished if he slipped and broke or twisted an ankle or split one leg open to the bone. He had to be able to swim out of here before the tide came in.

Step by step, rock by rock, Blade made his way out along the reef. Twice the only practical course lay close to the water's edge, where the breakers were crashing onto the rocks with explosive roars and churning tons of water.