Mike Dixon

The inflatable was nearby. He struggled to lift the out-
board motor free of the coral but it wouldn‟t come. At one
stage his head left the water and he heard shouting. Base-
ball Cap was screaming and Footsie was yelling at Floppy
Hat, threatening to shoot him.
The motor came free and the inflatable was swept away
by the current. Bullets smashed into it, throwing up spray,
ripping holes in the side. David followed at a distance,
breathing as little as possible so that his bubbles wouldn‟t
betray his position. He expected the inflatable to sink at any
moment but the boat was constructed of airtight compart-
ments and some were still intact. When the shooting
stopped he swam over to inspect the damage.
The motor hung down and the front of the boat stuck up.
The water container was still in place but most of their gear
had gone. The icebox was bobbing in the waves some distance
away. David decided to abandon it. The delicacies in-
side weren‟t worth the effort. He had the water container
and that was all that mattered.
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