“Hang on,” he said. “Let’s go see what we can do for these guys. What the hell they were doing out there…God, did you see how fast they were going?”

“Be careful,” Leon said. “Don’t run into those things yourself.”

“I know where I’m going. Don’t worry.”

It only took us a few seconds to get out to the boat. As we got closer we could hear the whine of their engine. The propeller was still spinning hard.

“We’ve gotta kill that engine,” Tyler said. “That’s the first thing. Here, Leon. Take this.”

He gave Leon a flashlight. For the first few seconds, the beam did nothing more than reflect in the fog, but as we pulled up to the boat we got our first good look at the damage.

“Holy shit,” Tyler said. “Look at that thing.”

It was a wooden boat, one of those antique Chris-Crafts. At least twenty-five feet, with that rich polished look you see on the real showpieces. These were the boats they take down to the big Antique Wooden Boat Show in Hessel every summer. Although if this was really one of them, its show days were over. The hull was completely obliterated, with raw wooden planks sticking out in all directions.

The thing was probably worth eighty, maybe a hundred thousand dollars before the wreck. Maybe more. Now it was kindling.

“Do you see anybody yet?” Tyler slowed us down to a crawl.

“Not yet,” Leon said. In the meager light we could make out a canvas top, but it had collapsed. Now it was like a tarp covering the whole cabin.

“This might not be good,” Tyler said. The understatement of the year. I could only imagine what the sudden deceleration had done to whoever was inside this thing. The boat had stopped in an instant, but their bodies would have kept going. And even then, when their bones stopped…Their skulls…What was inside would still be moving. At that moment, I wouldn’t have given fifty cents for their chances of staying alive.