"The kid's no dummy. He's still out there searching."

"If you call walking around the Loch searching."

"Don't underestimate him. If something's really happening out there, my bet is he'll find it. And when he does, he won't hide the truth, not even to save his old man."

"Okay, so what do you want me to do?"

"Contact your private investigator. Tell him to shadow Zachary Wallace. Whatever the good doctor learns, I want to know, too."

Glenmoriston
1:45 A.M.

"Huh!"

I shot up in my sleeping bag in pitch blackness, my T-shirt soaked in perspiration, my flesh covered in goose bumps. My muscles trembled with fear, but it was not from the night terror.

There's something outside the tent!

I stifled my breathing and listened to the forest, the sound of my pounding heart throbbing in my ears.

Sounds… on my left! Something's leaving the river, moving along the rocks—moving toward me!

Get the light!

I grabbed my flashlight, a sixty-five-thousand candlepower waterproof lantern I had purchased the previous morning in Inverness. Clicking on the beacon, I slipped on my hiking boots and peered outside the tent.

The boulders? Nothing.

The tent grounds? Nothing.

Had I dreamed it? The hairs standing along the back of my neck assured me no.

"Ahhh… shiiiiiit!"

I hurled backwards into the tent in searing pain, the light flailing from my grip, my body sent writhing in spasms, an immense beast upon me, its stiletto-sharp teeth tearing into my left boot and ankle as if I'd stepped into a bear trap!

I thrashed about on my back in the darkness, kicking the unseen, gnashing brute with my free leg, while my right hand strained to reach my light.

Grabbing it, I turned the beacon upon the source of pain.

The beast released me and froze, its round, opaque eyes turning luminescent silver in the light, its chocolate brown head poised to strike again, its mouth, filled with bared fangs, dripping with my blood.

My brain churned data, even as my body remained paralyzed in fear.

Anguilla eel.

Seven footer.

Hundred and fifty pounds.

A high-pitched growl emanated from its open mouth, caused by its gurgling bloody spittle. It was a Mexican standoff, the animal held at bay, mesmerized by my light, me by its jaws and their proximity to my more vital organs.

And then I heard something else… something bigger, and it was approaching quickly through the woods.

The eel heard it, too, its growls intensifying as it grew more agitated.

The second beast was right outside the tent, circling!

I blinked back sweat, coiling my injured body to move, when the canvass was suddenly lifted away as if caught in a tornado's updraft, my light glinting off a gold-plated sword as the ancient weapon lashed across the flashlight's beam, its deadly blade lopping off the head of the startled eel.

"Jesus Christ!"