AntiCrist in Sight

The houseboat was anchored in a remote cove several miles from the main channel of Shasta Lake, not far from the shoreline. From Ernie's vantage point he could see nothing more than the location of the boat. To risk getting any closer would be to risk being seen by AntiCrist, possibly precipitating disaster for Wes.

As Ernie hunkered down under the small canvas covering of his boat, bobbing up and down on the choppy lake, the only sound he could hear was the continuous splattering of raindrops on the canvas and deck. The storm had pulled a shade on sunset just as it had muted the sunrise. By four-thirty it was nearly dark outside. The day would soon be over—and Wes Bellardi's time would run out.

Ernie could no longer sit there doing nothing. He had to get back to shore and call for assistance as quickly as possible. If AntiCrist held true to his threats, then Wes was presumably safe until midnight. Ernie could only pray that the houseboat would stay where it was until he could get back with help.