"Come on," Holly said, "let's get the boat into the water."
They got out and heaved the lightweight dinghy off the truck and to the lakeshore. Holly took off her shoes and rolled up her jeans. "Hand me the motor." She accepted it from Doug and clamped it to the stern of the dinghy. "You can handle the batteries," she said. "Put them side by side." She climbed into the dinghy.
Doug placed the batteries in the bottom of the boat and fixed the alligator clips to the terminals of one. "There you go," he said. "Are you sure you don't want company?"
"I can handle it alone."
"Look across there," Harry said, pointing. "The house with all the lights must be Peck's place. The barracks has to be farther along the shore to your left. I'd stay away from it, just use it as a landmark."
Harry suddenly grabbed at his belt. "My phone's ringing." He opened it. "Yeah?" He listened for a moment, then hung up. "Eddie says they've just broken up for the evening. The main house seems to be emptying out."
"How far do you reckon it is?" Holly asked.
"Three, maybe four miles, I'd guess. I think we're south of the putative dock."
Ham left Peck's house with four other men who were also quartered in the bunkhouse. None of them was over thirty, and they were talking excitedly about the group and their part in it. They reached the bunkhouse and began to unpack their things, placing their clothes in lockers. Ham took his time; he wanted them all asleep before him. With that in mind, he wrapped a towel around himself, went into the heads and took a long, hot shower.
When he came out, two of the boys were still talking quietly, but soon they drifted off, and the barracks was quiet. Ham checked his watch and waited for another hour before he made a move. He got silently out of bed, took a blanket and a pillow from the empty bunk next to his and walked quietly out the lakeside door. Once outside, he stopped and listened for a full two minutes to see if anyone was stirring inside the bunkhouse or outside. Hearing nothing, he made his way across a neatly trimmed lawn toward the lake. Once there, he stopped and listened again. His watch showed nearly half-past two in the morning.
Holly sat in the bottom of the dinghy, the motor humming quietly behind her, only her head and shoulders above the boat's gunwales. Peck's house had only one light now, and it appeared to be an outdoor lamp that stayed on all night. This was good, since it gave her a landmark. Then, as she made her way slowly across the lake, the moon began to rise, and this was not good. It was nearly three-quarters full, and it gave a lot more light than Holly needed or wanted. She reckoned she was a mile from shore now, and remembering that even small sounds carried across water, she switched off the little motor and let the boat drift. Then she made her way forward to the stem, knelt down and began paddling with an oar, using a J-stroke, the way she had been taught at Girl Scout camp, so that she wouldn't have to lift it from the water.
Ham hadn't noticed the motor until it was turned off, but when it went quiet, he knew what the sound had been. The moon was rising, and he didn't like that at all. He walked back to the bunkhouse and stuck his head inside the door. Four lumps lay inert in the bunks, one of them snoring softly. He went back to the lakeshore and, bothered by the moon, lay down on the blanket. He didn't want to be spotted in the moonlight.
Holly could see the dark outline of the bunkhouse, and she made for it, resisting the urge to paddle faster. Then, as she approached the shore from fifty yards out, two things happened. Ham, who had apparently been lying down, stood up. Then a light went on in the bunkhouse.
48
Ham hunkered down under his blanket and pretended to be asleep. The light had alarmed him; he didn't know who might be behind him. Then he heard a screen door shut and someone walking across the lawn toward him.
"Ham?"
"Huh?" he grunted. He turned over and found one of his four bunkhouse mates, a kid named Jimmy, standing over him. "What's up?" he asked sleepily.
"There's a boat out there, about fifty yards away," Jimmy said.
Ham sat up on an elbow and looked toward the dinghy, which appeared to be empty. "Just somebody's dinghy came untied," he said grumpily. "Why the hell did you wake me up? I came out here to get away from the snoring, and now I've got you making noise. And why is that light on in the bunkhouse?"
"Sorry, Ham, I didn't know you were sleeping." He started toward the edge of the water. "I'm going to swim out there and check out that boat."
"Hold it right there," Ham said, and he brought authority into his voice.
Jimmy stopped, turned and looked at him.
"You have any idea what the cottonmouth moccasin count is in that lake? There must be thousands, and don't even think about the alligators. They feed at night, you know."
"I didn't think of that," Jimmy said uncertainly.
"You get your ass back into that bunkhouse and into bed, and don't you fucking wake me up again."
"I'm sorry, Ham, I-"
"Just get back in there. If the boat is still there in the morning, I'll check it out."
"Okay, if you say so. Good night."
"It better be."
Jimmy walked back to the bunkhouse, switched off the light and, apparently, went back to bed.