As I watched and stared, the carcass was dragged under again and attacked, as if by a school of piranha.

"Christ, what the hell's happening?"

Whomp!

My heart leaped as something heavy struck the bottom of the canoe, its impact reverberating through my bones.

Whomp… whomp-whomp!

More strikes, in staggered succession. I was being attacked!

I regripped the paddle and was about to stroke when the canoe was walloped again from below with such force the aluminum plates by my feet dented upward and separated, releasing a stream of icy water. Jesus, Wallace, haul ass!

I stroked like a madman, driving the sinking boat forward, my heart nearly stopping as the bow skidded atop the remains of the resurfacing sturgeon.

"Dammit!" I veered the canoe to one side, my shattered nerves tingling as my plunging oar struck something solid swimming below.

Whomp… whomp!

The canoe rocked as it was bludgeoned again, the water at my feet three inches deep and rising.

This isn't happening!

Somewhere in the back of my mind, I heard my inner voice remind me, Easy, Wallace. It's just a loch. It can't hurt you if you don't go in.

"Shut up!"

Lowering my shoulder, I paddled like an Olympian, aiming for a distant shoreline now mired in fog. The frigid water in the canoe was now was up to my ankles.

* * *

A giant shadow, rising to meet me!

Subliminal images blinded me. "A hundred yards… just keep paddling!"

Mouth opening around my lower torso…

"Eighty yards… come on, Wallace!"

Water up to my calf, the canoe growing noticeably heavier. Something jagged, tearing into my flesh!

"Sixty yards… where's the damn pier?"

Get to the light, Zachary, get to the light!

Whomp!

"Get the hell away from me!"

My blistered hands and forearms burned, my entire body straining now to move the water-laden canoe.

I was getting closer. I could see Aldourie Castle. I could see its green pastures of lawn.

And then the rising water wet my buttocks, and I knew I was going in.

Fifty yards …

The canoe wobbled with every stroke, only it scarcely moved.

Forty yards. Stay in the boat as long as possible!

The bow rose, the stern bobbed, then sank beneath me.

Oh, hell.

Releasing the paddle, I stood, then launched myself into the Loch, its all-too familiar embrace blasting my breath away as my churning legs leveled out into an awkward crawl stroke. My hiking shoes were concrete blocks, my clothing binding me, my fear preventing me from ducking my head underwater as I swam.

Twenty yards, Wallace… twenty damn yards! Two first down markers …

An image flashed in my mind's eye. The body of a man. Naked. Dead.

"Awffff!"

Distracted, my forehead smashed painfully against a wood piling, striking it so hard I actually saw purple stars.

Get out of the damn water!