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He tried the first sporting goods store again。 The owner was belligerent until Colter held out his hand with two gold coins。 The owner looked over the coins and even bit one to make sure they were real。 Then the negotiation started。 While interested； the dealer wouldn't sell Colter the rifle he wanted for only two of the coins。 Colter mournfully told the man he had only four coins and a family back in Ashland and wasn't sure he could go back without protection。
〃Boy；〃 he said； 〃you could kill an elephant with a rifle like that。 Now if you want personal protection I've got an assault rifle here that will give you the rapid…fire capability you need。 I might even be able to get you a banana clip to go with it； if you don't say where you got it。 They're not legal； you know。〃
Colter held his ground and the negotiation continued。 Colter didn't want to give him four gold pieces…but there was no way to make change。 Colter now understood why pirate treasure was often pieces of eight…breaking his gold coins into eighths would make the negotiation simpler。 Finally； Colter thanked the man and said he'd try the shop down the street。 That's where he got the deal he wanted…the rifle； three spare eight…round clips； and three boxes of ammunition for three gold coins。 Then Colter went looking for supplies。
The only open grocery was guarded by six police officers； and the people going in were ing out with only small quantities of food。 Colter drove to one of the closed stores and banged on the glass door until a thin middle…aged man came from the back waving a pistol and hollering to Colter。 Colter put the gold coin against the window and held it there with his finger。 The man stared at it； then walked forward and put his nose right up against the glass。 Then he put on a pair of glasses and Colter watched the guy's eyes light up。 The man motioned Colter around back； through the delivery entrance； where he traded his coin for groceries； propane； bottled juice and water； and raisins and other fruit for Sarah and Moose。
54。 THE DEN
We were recovering our net by reeling in on our drum； when one of the hands yells 'lookit there。' Well； I looked and sure enough there was a head。。。 sitting on a neck as thick as a good…sized cargo boom。 But it wos the eyes that held me； they were large； but sort of deadlike。。。。 In all my years of working drift nets。。。 I ain't never e across the likes of that。。。 But that animal was big indeed。
…Captain Mario Lapona； in Sea Monsters and Other Dangerous Marine Life
Warm Springs Indian Reservation； Oregon
POSTQUILT： WEDNESDAY； 1：10 A。M。 PST
Petra woke in darkness； her body aching from head to toe。 When she tried to lift her head； the agony threatened to drive her back into unconsciousness； so she lowered her head gingerly until it met the wet surface。 When the pain subsided a little； she was able to localize her injuries。 Her head was the worst； but her left foot and ankle throbbed and pain kept her from bending her ankle more than a fraction of an inch。 Petra lay still again； and when the pain in her ankle subsided she became aware of her other senses。 It was almost pitch black； so her eyes were nearly useless； but there was a terrible stench in the air。 Some of the smell was familiar…and Petra realized she was lying in her own vomit。 Still； when she tried to scoot away； the pain was worse than the smell； so instead she lay still and tried to remember what happened。
The first memory to return was Colter's face。 She could see it through a murky gloom。 He was moving away； pawing at the air。 No； not pawing。 He was swimming； and it wasn't Colter who was moving away； it was Petra。
Then it all came back。 That strange fish。 The one that came out of the water； walking on its flippers and then grabbing her ankle。 It had pulled her under the water； and she had drowned。 But she hadn't drowned； not unless this was hell。 It sure wasn't heaven。 But where was she； and why wasn't she dead？
Petra kept her head as still as possible and reached out slowly with her right hand； sliding it across the wet surface。 The bottom was clearly rock。 Then her hand touched something slimy and scaly。 She jerked her hand back and froze。 It was the fish。
Her heart pounded so loudly； she feared the fish would hear。 But nothing happened。 It didn't move and made no sounds。 When Petra's panic subsided； she began to think more clearly。 The fish she'd touched couldn't have been the one that grabbed her； that one was covered with hard scales。 This fish was slimy。 Petra forced her hand back out to the fish and touched it again； poking it with a fingernail。 It didn't move。 She ran her hand along its length。 It was four feet long with a long fin on one end。 She couldn't bring herself to explore its head； after she discovered that the fish was well decayed。 She went to wipe her hands on her pants but found she wasn't wearing any。 In fact she wasn't wearing much at all。
She reached out above her head and found something covered with smooth skin； not scaly； with a long thin neck and at least two well…muscled back legs。 Petra realized she was in a den。 She was part of the food supply of that walking fish that snatched her。 Somewhere on the trip to the den she had passed out； but she hadn't drowned。 At least not quite。 Her head told her she had been without oxygen for a while。 She worried briefly about brain damage but realized there was a more immediate problem。 She was part of some prehistoric fish's larder； and she didn't want to be its main course at the next meal。
Petra lay still； listening as hard as she could； but heard nothing。 She was pretty sure the fish wasn't in the den with her。 There were no sounds that weren't her own。 She reasoned that if the fish could walk out of water； and snatch her and other land animals； that it must be an air breather。 The only sounds of breathing were her own。 No； this den was filled with death and rot； not life。 Except her life。
Petra lifted her head slowly； pausing frequently to let the stars clear from her eyes。 The pain kept her at the edge of tears； but she was almost to a sitting position when her head； with a dizzying pain； hit the ceiling。 It seemed to be made of sticks and mud。 There was air in here； she realized； stale putrid air； but air。 She must be near the surface of the lake。 She thought about digging through the roof but didn't know what was above。 Could this part be under the lake？ Surely not； if it was made of mud。
She sat semireclined； holding her body up with her hands； and looked around。 It seemed brighter now。 But where was the light ing from？ Petra looked above and behind； seeing nothing but the gloom。 Then she spread her knees apart and looked between。 There was a soft glow on the floor of the den。 It took her a minute to realize she was looking at a pool of water； and the pool was glowing softly。 That was the way out。 But even if she could stay conscious； could she swim far； weakened as she was and with a crushed ankle？ She was debating whether to try it when the light suddenly disappeared and the water began to ripple。 Something was swimming up the tunnel。
She flopped back down and froze； trying to remember the position she had been in。