The second shot took the boat instead of the water.
It struck low along the port side, and the rubber hull didn't simply tear, it burst, air screaming out of the puncture in a violent rush, and the boat listed hard, water already pouring in over the sagging rim.
"We're going down!" Ethan shouted.
"Grab the packs!" David hauled the crossbow and the emergency bag into his own arms, water already climbing past his ankles inside the sinking hull. "Jason, stay close to me!"
The six pursuers had closed most of the distance now, wading and splashing through the shallower stretch near the buildings, close enough that Jason could make out individual faces twisted with the particular, hungry desperation he'd learned to read as more dangerous than anything the infected offered.
"Behind the boat," David ordered, pulling both boys down into the water alongside the sinking hull, using its bulk as a shield. "Stay low."
