Something in Kalico’s memory smacked of Yucatan, or maybe South Padre in the Gulf of Mexico. The kind of place that begged for a beach chair, a cooler, and a day of relaxation and decompression.

Yeah, right, she chided herself.

She trotted up onto the first of the dunes, pistol half drawn as she scanned the wind-sculpted rise. Checked behind the slip face. Nothing. And she made sure to stay well clear of the closest of the succulent plants, not trusting their innocent shape, let alone the reach of their roots, however hidden they might be.

She shot a glance back. Yoshimura was filling his sample jar. On the other side of the seatruck, Shinwua was down on one knee, coring his sample. Just a flash of something out beyond the breakers caught her attention. Movement. She thought she glimpsed the eye-topped stalk again, but it could have been a leaping tube or some other sea creature.

Kalico dropped to a knee, unscrewed the lid, and used the scoop to fill the jar. Vacuum simple. Now Lara wouldn’t give her that notorious scowl.

Kalico stood as she screwed the lid tight, took one last look around.

It wouldn’t be a bad place to come back to. Maybe. After the surveys had been done and the dangers accounted for. It had been a long time since she’d had a place as remote, beautiful, and beckoning call to her.

She turned, started back to the seatruck. Yoshimura was just climbing into the cabin.

Shinwua, however, was standing in the wash of the waves, back to her as he stared out at the surf. His sample jar hung from one hand as he craned his neck, as if searching the breakers for something.

“Come on,” Kalico whispered, breaking into a dogtrot. “Whatever it is, we’ll look for it with the cameras.”

She had almost reached the seatruck, had just taken a breath to call to Shinwua when the creature shot out of the water. Fast. A blurred image of something slashing shoreward through the curl of a breaker. The curving long blades glistened a steely blue in Capella’s hard light. As if exploding from the surf, the creature flew up the beach with uncanny speed.

Kalico broke into a run, took in the body behind the three extended blades: cylindrical, as big around as an oil drum and dazzling with shimmering rainbow colors. Stalk-fixed eyes, two of which were raised high and fixed on Shinwua, gleamed like polished midnight. The third was tucked tightly below the gaping mouth. The front of the thing—on which each of the broad blades hinged—enlarged, opening wide to display three tooth-studded jaws and a black gullet.

“Shin! Run!” she cried.

But the man stood riveted, as if in a trance.