Joaquim didn’t wait around to find out more. He dug the paddle into the water and turned the boat back toward shore, glancing over his shoulder more than once as he went. He didn’t tell many people what he thought it might have been, but in his own mind, one possibility had already lodged itself there and refused to leave.
Something long. Something powerful. Something that absolutely did not belong anywhere near a man in a wooden fishing boat. And on waters like these, where old stories and half-seen things had a way of sticking to people for years, that was enough to keep anyone awake.
By sunrise, he had almost convinced himself he’d exaggerated the whole thing in the dark. Almost. That was why he went back.
Because if it really was there… he needed to know what he had seen.
