Page 78 of Sachie's Hero

“No. He disappeared,” her dad said, “on a night much like tonight about ten years ago. He told his wife he was going out early because he saw someone doing something fishy back here, and he never made it home. Some people believe he got eaten by an alligator. Others wonder if a swamp monster got him—or if he came face-to-face with Edgar Watson.”

She laughed. “I love that tale.”

“So do I, child.” Her dad nodded. “However, there are some who believe that Hector was murdered back here for what he thought he saw.”

She’d heard this a million times. “You’re the only one who believes that.” She glanced up. “Why are we out here?”

“I swear I saw something.” He pushed the lever and turned the boat toward the island with no name.

At night, everything looked different in the Everglades. During the day, it was rich in vegetation. Rich in beauty. One could get lost in the decadence of it all.

Once the sun dipped below the horizon, it was like stepping onto a horror set. Cue the music forPsycho.And yet, it was still the only place in the world she felt at home.

That thought made her chuckle. She’d never been anywhere else but Naples, which was a cesspool of tourists, snowbirds, and traffic.

“Give me the spotlight,” her father whispered—as if someone could hear them. He scanned the mangrove, finding the tree line near a clearing about fifty feet in. “Look. There. Do you see that?”

She moved toward the bow of the boat, crawling on her hands and knees. Why? She had no idea. No one was watching. Only a fool—like her father—would be out here at three in the morning. She squinted, but sure enough, a small shack and some crates with strange markings came into view. “I need my phone.”

“What the hell?” her father exclaimed. “What are you doing?—”

A searing pain tore through her body from her head to her toes. It rattled her teeth. She dropped to the hull of the boat. Blinking, she pressed her hands flat on the boat’s bottom, trying to push herself up, but instead, stars filled her vision.

Another sharp stab to her head. It was as if a bomb had exploded inside her brain.

And then the world simply turned… black.

Grippingthe sides of the boat, she pulled herself up. It took all the strength she had.

A man’s muffled voice drowned in her ears. It was like every sound bubbled underwater, unable to break through the throbbing in her skull.

A second voice. Or maybe it was the same one. She couldn’t be sure. She craned her neck toward the chatter. The tone and texture of the voices were hauntingly familiar. It prickled her ears and tormented her mind. No matter how hard she tried, she couldn’t place it.

The voice separated. Splintered into separate sounds. It was definitely two people. She knew that now. She blinked. The horrifying pain dancing on her temples made it impossible to see anything but the blackness of night.

Splash!

She leaned over and stared at the rippling water.

The men tossed chum overboard. She knew it was chum because she could smell the blood. Smell the raw, dead meat as it hit the brackish water.

She blinked.

Tails and eyes.

Eyes and tails.

The water flipped and flopped.

Mouth and teeth lurched from the waterline. Then a tail. It slapped the side of the boat.

More teeth.

Another tail. Two gators fighting over breakfast.

Her breath caught in her throat. Something…an arm…fingers… reached up from the murky water.

The sound of an engine roared in the distance.

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