Gone

say good-bye to this madness.
    Far to the north he could see the cliffs that marked the inlet occupied by the power plant. Beyond that, just a smudge in the haze, the outline of the nearest of half a dozen small private islands.
    Astrid had dug out the life jackets and was strapping one onto Little Pete. Edilio accepted one too, but Quinn refused.
    Astrid also found a small cooler packed with warm sodas, a loaf of bread, and the rest of the makings of peanut butterand jelly sandwiches. “We won’t starve,” she said. “At least not right away.”
    The barrier was just to their left, a terrible, imposing, blank wall. The waves lapped against it, an impatient sound. The water wanted to escape, too.
    Sam was a fish in an aquarium and the FAYZ wall was the side of the tank. It was the same semitranslucent mystery it was on land.
    He skimmed along until he was far enough out that Clifftop was no bigger than a LEGO perched above a narrow ribbon of sand. Perdido Beach was like an oil painting, dots and splashes of color that suggested a town without providing any detail.
    “I’m going to try something,” he announced.
    Sam killed the engine and let the boat wallow. The boat seemed to want to drift along the wall. There was a current, only slight, but definite. The current chased down the side of the wall heading away from land, following the long curve still farther out to sea.
    “Do we have an anchor?” Sam asked.
    The answer was a retching sound. Sam looked away as Edilio gave up his lunch.
    “Never mind,” said Sam, “I’ll look.”
    There was no anchor. But he noticed that Astrid was making peanut butter and jelly sandwiches. She handed one to Sam.
    He had not realized he was hungry. He stuffed half the sandwich in his mouth. “This is why they call you Astrid the Genius,” he mumbled through the peanut butter.
    “Man, don’t talk about food,” Edilio groaned.
    Sam searched his little boat. No anchor anywhere, but there were some plastic bumpers, which he hung over the side in case he brushed against the barrier. And there was a coil of blue-and-white nylon rope. He tied one end securely to a cleat and tied the other end around his ankle. He stripped off his shirt and kicked off his shoes, leaving him in shorts. Rummaging in one of the holds, he found a long screwdriver.
    “What are you doing?” Quinn asked.
    Sam ignored him. “Edilio, man, you going to live?”
    “I hope not,” Edilio said through gritted teeth.
    “I’m going to dive down, see if I can get below the barrier.”
    Astrid looked skeptical, worried, but Sam could see she was in her own head, preoccupied. Probably trying to come to grips with almost getting shot.
    Quinn said, “I’ll haul you in if you get jammed up.”
    Sam nodded, not ready to talk to Quinn. Not sure he would ever be ready to talk to Quinn. Then he dived off the side.
    The water was a welcome friend. Cold, a shock, but welcome. He laughed at the taste of salt.
    He took a couple of deep breaths, held the last one, and dived. He swam with powerful kicks and his free hand while the other hand held the screwdriver out to fend off the FAYZ wall. He had no desire to be pushed up against it. Touching with a finger had hurt. Laying a shoulder or thigh against it would not be pleasant.
    Down and down he went. He wished he’d had the foresight to grab some scuba gear or at least a face mask and finsat the marina, but he’d been a bit preoccupied at the time. The water was pretty clear, but still, visibility was reduced in the shadow of the barrier.
    When he reached the end of his air he stabbed toward the barrier. The screwdriver hit nothing, and he felt a momentary surge of excitement that disappeared when his next thrust stopped dead against solid resistance.
    He shot to the surface and gasped for air.
    The barrier extended at least twenty feet down below the surface. If there was a bottom to it, he’d have to find it using an air tank and flippers.
    The boat was rocking against the barrier, fifty feet away. He heard the distinct snap and pff as Astrid popped open a Coke for Little Pete. Quinn sat on the bow tending the rope, and Edilio was still looking as if he might heave up a part of his liver.
    Sam swam to the boat, taking his time, enjoying the water on his skin too much to feel disappointed that he hadn’t found a way out of the FAYZ.
    He heard the sound of the engine and the smack-on-wave impact long before he saw the boat. He kicked hard to lift his head