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gonethrough the machine’s entire inventory, other than the weaponry. There hadn’t been a need. But now…
    He screeched to a halt, nearly throwing Excaliber from the seat and scanned the digital dashboard. There— EMERGENCY RAFT —a small lever. But was he supposed to set the bike in a certain position? How could… Fuck it, Stone decided suddenly as the
     tidal wave came to within a mile of them, bearing down like something out of a biblical prophecy. There was no time for heavy
     theoretical analysis. He took a deep breath and flipped the lever to the RELEASE position.
    There was a loud clicking sound from the bottom of the Harley and a steel panel slid sideways. A bright orange raft shot out
     below his feet and instantly began inflating from a carbon dioxide canister built into it with a loud whooshing sound. The
     raft spread out like a mound of Jello and filled with the gas at a rapid rate. The sound seemed to frighten Excaliber, who
     set to walling again, deciding in his canine brain that all things considered, this had been just about the worst day of his
     life. As it filled, the edges of the raft spread out in all directions so it quickly contained the entire Harley, raising
     it up slightly. Within sixty seconds, they and the bike were sitting in the center of the fully inflated flotation device
     that spread out for about eight feet around them.
    “I’ll be damned,” Stone muttered to himself, the traces of a smile arching his face. The damned thing worked. He’d have to
     check out
all
the features that the Harley possessed—if he lived that long. For the wall of dark brown water was almost upon them. It was
     impossibly large, foaming at the top, cresting toward them as if reaching to suck the bike and its occupants down to a watery
     grave. At the forefront of the turning waves were trees, animals, cacti, all pulled along like twigs as the flash flood ripped
     everything it encounteredinto its dark guts. The pitbull sank back onto the seat and closed its eyes. Stone stared dead on into the rushing flood.
     If he was going to die he wanted to see it all. He said a silent prayer to unknown gods and waited. There was nothing to do
     but let it happen.
    The tidal wave slammed into them with a deafening roar. Stone felt the impact of the water like a kick to the guts and then
     as if every cell in his body was being torn apart. His eyes shut involuntarily, not wanting to see the end even if he did.
     Then everything was spinning, the world flashing by around them like a top, and a tornado of liquid seemed to engulf them,
     taking them down. All Stone could see was water and then they went under. He took a deep breath and waited to die.
    But he didn’t. After a few seconds Stone opened his drenched lids and to his amazement they were floating along on the surface
     of the river of dark water, the lead waves already past them and heading on to see what else they could claim. The raft continued
     to turn at a dizzying rate and Stone wondered if he was going to puke. But after another minute, the raft slowed to a near
     crawl. It bobbed up and down like a cork on the now vast lake that filled the plains. Stone could see the unfortunate victims
     of the flood floating all around him. Carcasses of buffalo and deer, lizards and snakes, all twisting in the currents as if
     a burial ground of nature’s creatures had been opened up. The bodies were already bloated, the tongues of the animals hanging
     out of their mouths, swollen and dark. Far overhead vultures began circling patiently. There was going to be some feasting
     done when the waters receded.
    Stone sat back on the seat of the Harley, dead center of the thick plastic raft, which rode over the swells, drifting aimlessly
     about like a leaf in the ocean. Now that it was fullysure it was actually going to survive the latest installment of life with Martin Stone, the pitbull seemed to relax a little.
     It jumped down from the seat and made a full