He reached for the flashlight he kept tucked near his tackle box and aimed it toward the sound. At first, the beam showed nothing but muddy water and drifting weeds. Then, for the briefest second, it caught something else. A dark curved shape.
It rose just enough to reflect the light before slipping under again, leaving only a faint ripple spreading across the black water. Joaquim jerked back so hard he nearly dropped the flashlight into the river. He had spent enough time on these waters to know when something was normal and when it wasn’t. And whatever he had just seen didn’t feel normal at all.
It was too large. Too smooth. Too quiet. He stayed still for a few seconds, listening. Nothing. Then it came again.A low groaning sound from beneath the surface — followed by a wet, pressurized exhale that seemed to roll through the water itself. Joaquim felt the hair on his arms rise.
Whatever was under him…had moved.
