Tom saw one of Barney’s hollow metal poles floating nearby and reached out for it. His fingers made contact, but at the same time, his foot also touched something big and bulky beneath him.

Tom recoiled in alarm, then kicked out, making contact, then again, harder, a fierce kick, and this time his boot slid over it and he felt a searing pain along his calf as if it had been torn open, but he kicked again and again until his foot kicked against clear water.

Then he heard George shout, “Guys!” Tom turned and saw him standing in the boat, looking down into the water. “Black caiman. Big. Get back in the boat!”

Tom started to swim, still clutching the pole, and as he looked ahead he could see them dragging Emma over the side and back in, then the backpack she’d managed to save. He couldn’t see the dog and felt a moment of panic, but it had somehow managed to swim to the far side of the boat and Barney and Alice pulled it aboard now.

Tom heard something like a whimper behind him and spun around in the water to see Sandeep frozen, treading water but unable to act. He’d read once that the people most likely to die in an accident or a terrorist attack were those who froze, and now he could see why.

“Sandeep! Swim!”

Sandeep looked at him, nodded but did nothing, and said helplessly, “Don’t leave me.”

“Swim to me! Do it now.”

Behind him, George shouted, “You have to swim too, Tom. I can’t see where it went!”

A couple more shouted Tom’s name, but he only looked at Sandeep and shouted again, “Swim to me!”

Sandeep nodded, but this time started a nervous crawl, his eyes darting about everywhere. He’d almost reached Tom when he glanced to his left and let out a cry of fear and Tom looked too, and saw the dark shadow in the water, moving fast toward them.

He kicked out again, and simultaneously heaved Sandeep by the shoulder, pushing him in the direction of the boat and screaming at him, “Swim!”

Sandeep finally swam away, splashing wildly, the others shouting encouragement, and Tom kicked once more at the shadow below but his foot met no contact and he saw the caiman rising up toward him. He stabbed down toward it with the metal pole, once, then twice, hitting something, then a third time.

The pole jammed into something, not fleshy, but locking firmly into place, and he was propelled through the water toward the boat for a few yards, from so powerful a force, it felt like it might lift him right out of the water as long as he held on to that pole, or as if the pole itself might snap.