He scanned the surface again. Nothing. Then he noticed the bubbles. They were small at first, breaking the water in a loose line a few feet from the side of the boat. Not the kind fish made. These came in clusters, rising slowly from below like trapped air escaping from something buried deep beneath the riverbed.
They drifted up in the same spot again and again, as if something underneath was breathing. Joaquim leaned over slightly, squinting into the water. That was when the first piece of metal floated up.
It was small and rusted, maybe the size of a palm, but it was enough to make him pull back immediately. A second piece followed a few seconds later. Then something longer — a bent strip of metal with one end snapped jaggedly in half. His first thought wasn’t machinery.
His first thought was damage. Like whatever was down there had already ripped through another boat… and these pieces were all that had come back up.
