Rick checked himself once again to be sure all was in order. Weight belt, knife, compass, spear gun with safety cap on, mask fitting tightly, and the pack in place. He got ready to jump on Steve's command.
The outboard slowed, raced, slowed, raced, back-fired, slowed. Steve's hand went over and trailed chemical in the water. The boat turned, and Rick saw the smoke cloud rising. The boat went into it, and the motor cut out.
"Go," Steve said.
Rick stood upright and went over the gunwale in a dive, knifing toward the bottom. He felt the pressure wave as Scotty followed and reached a hand upward to meet his pal. His hand touched Scotty's arm, found the hand, and gave it a squeeze. Then, with a glance at his compass to orient him, Rick started the long swim.
It was odd to be wearing the oxygen lung. The sound of bubbles from the customary compressed-air Scubas was missing, and the silence was strange. Then Steve started the motor of the runabout and Rick heard the broken rhythm as the motor skipped. He knew that Steve probably had turned the carburetor mixture to too lean or too rich. Either would cause the motor to run rough. He kept moving, his fins keeping a steady stroke. The motor sound grew distant, and finally faded entirely.
Rick usually depended on pressure to tell him location, but the creek was too shallow for any strong indication on his ears. He kept going until the visibility and brightness told him he was in the shallows, then steered out into the middle of the stream again.
He thought they must be halfway to the mansion, but wasn't sure. He gave a pair of swift kicks to alert Scotty, then turned sharp left, rolling over on his back. He could see the water surface clearly. Rising a little, he lifted his face above the water for a brief second, then went back under.
Now was the time to get behind the duck blind. Rick swam back to where Scotty waited, and plucked at his shoulder. This time he started off close to the north shore, heading directly for the duck blind. His course was straight. In a few moments he found himself among the pilings and turned to put the blind between himself and the mansion on the opposite shore. Scotty followed.
Rick lifted his head cautiously. He saw only the marsh grass and the back of the blind. He tapped Scotty, who rose until his head was level with Rick's, his face only a few inches away. They pulled off their masks.
"We can swim under the blind and look out the front," Rick whispered. "There's enough brush to give us cover. We'll each pick our own spot and go to it. Sound all right?"