The grappling hook hung from his right hand.
Marcus looked at the water.
“Remember what I said.”
“Thighs.”
“No deeper.”
“I know.”
Eli stepped in.
Cold water immediately filled the small gaps above one boot.
He grimaced.
Otis called, “Scientific process uncomfortable?”
“Yes.”
“Good.”
Eli moved slowly.
Knee deep.
Then thigh deep.
He stopped.
Ahead, the center of the pond appeared darker than the surrounding water.
Not because it was necessarily deeper, Eli realized.
The surface there simply reflected less light.
He gathered the rope.
First throw.
The hook splashed ten feet short.
Dale laughed.
“One point for the pond.”
Eli pulled it back.
Second throw.
The hook landed farther.