The bus stopped in the early gloom, waking everyone.  Gordon turned off the motor and stood, stretching.  "I'm hungry," he said.

Gus, sleepy, started to protest the delay, then saw what lay ahead.  A broad lake obviously too deep to drive through.  The Suwannee was at hand!

"I've done my stint," Gordon said as he raided the refrigerator.  "No sense wasting gas, which is already low.  We're stranded for the time being."

He did not really believe in the permanency of the rain, Zena remembered.  No sense arguing.

"Thatch, do something!" Gus cried.  Gus believed!

Thatch peered about.  "No anchorages for pulleys," he said.  "I'm afraid this is it.  We'll just have to swim."

A fair assessment, Zena thought.  The bus had been nice, very nice, but they couldn't stay in that cocoon forever while the water rose.

"Get this machine across!" Gus shouted.  His volume made the others wince.  He seemed to be afraid.

Thatch looked at him helplessly.  "If I try to drive it there, it'll stall."

"Why should it?  We caulked it."

Now Zena remembered: there had been a stop in the night, and some getting out and working.  She had heard it, but no one had called her to help and she had been too logy to rise on her own initiative.  Thatch and Gordon must have sealed the crevices and panels, or tried to.

"That may keep the water out of the residential section, Gordon said.  "But not out of the motor.  It will stall."

"Maybe it will, maybe it won't," Gus said angrily.  "Drive, Thatch."

Thatch shrugged and got into the driver's seat.

"This is crazy!" Zena said.  "It's useless to -"

The motor started.  Thatch drove the vehicle into the water.  Zena held her breath, knowing what was going to happen.

But the water was more shallow than it had looked.  The bus continued, making enormous splashes to either side.  The shore line receded behind, fifty feet, seventy-five, a hundred.

Zena let out her breath.  And the motor stalled.

"Now you've done it!" Gus said angrily to Thatch.

Zena wanted to yell at Gus, but sighed instead.  Yelling might be satisfying, but it would not solve any problems.

Gordon finished his breakfast and went to the bathroom.  "I'm going to sleep," he announced.

Karen looked about.  "Is there anything I can take that floats?  I can't swim."

"You won't have to swim!" Gus said.  "We're getting this thing across.  Time to start pushing, Thatch."

"We can't push it that far," Zena objected.  "We tried that before."

"You can start," Gus said.  "It's still downhill, some.  Get moving, Thatch."

"Get moving, Thatch!" Zena mimicked.  "For God's sake, Gus, downhill means deeper into the water!"

"We can still push," Karen said.  "I'll help.  But let's eat first."

"There's not much food," Zena said, remembering the woman's injection of the prior evening.  Was Karen in a drug euphoria?  "And we don't want to waste it."  Actually, she hadn't resented Gordon's meal.  He was an asset to the group; was Karen?