The narrow inlet was crowded with watercraft, including Rock's ski boat. Severe weather was on the way. Heavy cloud cover had begun to churn and give off a bold yellowish hue Rock had never seen before.
There was a specific reason all the boats and barges and ships had taken to the open water, but Rock couldn't remember what it was. Neither could the pilot of the boat beside Rock's, but they figured the odd sky and harsh weather about to begin had something to do with it.
As they discussed the matter, a party barge with a large, enclosed cabin, suddenly roared past them. It was going at least fifty miles an hour when it slammed into a stationary craft so large that it barely budged when it was struck.
Rock turned to the man in the boat beside his. "There's no way he survived that," he said. "Right?"
"No, there's not," the man said. "He's dead for sure."
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