The deck seems to be shielding them from the worst of the current. Still, it’s a dangerous retrieval. Without those tethers, one slip could send a man into the water, where even the strongest swimmer would be swept downstream.

A third rescuer approaches me with an orange life vest. “Here you go, Chief.”

All I can think as I put my arms through the straps is that I don’t want to go into that swirling, dark water. The firefighter doesn’t seem to notice my trepidation as he produces a black nylon tether strap and clips it to my vest with a carabiner.

The firefighter in the water looks over his shoulder at me. “I’ve never seen anything like this.”

At the bank, I look back at Skid. “Grab the camera, will you?”

Nodding, he starts up the incline toward his cruiser.

Trying not to slip in the mud, I enter the water. Cold creeps over the tops of my boots and grips my feet with icy hands that streak up my legs with enough force to chill my entire body. No one had any spare wader boots, so I’m destined to go through the day with wet feet. Another step takes me into a foot of swirling brown water. Even though it’s shallow, the current tugs at me, like a child pulling on my pant leg to get my attention.

I’m about four feet downstream from the deck. Tea-colored water rushes around the wood piers. The two firefighters are taking the brunt of the current; I can see it washing around their legs. One of the men has looped a rope around the nearest pier and is using it to hold on to.

Water inches over my knees and slaps against my thighs as I wade closer to the deck. When the farthest firefighter steps aside, I get my first good look at the body. I see a blue-white face with cloudy eyes. A gray strip of what looks like duct tape over the mouth. Hair flowing like some exotic fish fin just below the surface. The victim is wearing a white tank undershirt and blue jeans that have been nearly pulled from his body by the force of the water. Bare feet. My eyes seek out his hands, but they’re bound behind his back, cotton rope whipping with the current.

“See that?” The firefighter points. “Hands are tied. Looks like duct tape over his mouth and wrapped around his head. I thought you might want to see it before we cut him loose.”

“Let me get a few shots,” I tell him.

Gripping the tether with my left hand, I wade back to the shore. “Skid!”