Neither of them spoke. In the distance, oil derricks towered above the muddied sea like machinistic leviathans scanning the aquatic fields below. A hazy brown band hung on the horizon, separating the silted water and bluer skies above. Waves crashed into the rocks with a thunderous clap, hissing as they retreated.

Aleph spotted Padre.

He stood alone at the edge of the walkway. A canvas bag slumped on the ground next to him, and two offshore fishing rods grew upright from steel holsters bolted into the concrete. Padre had his back to them and was staring off into the gulf through a handheld viewfinder. He jotted some notes in a small notepad and returned his gaze across the water.

Aleph came up and put his hand on Padre’s shoulder. Startled, Padre jerked around. “Holy bejesus!” he said. He examined the pair with a bewildered look. “What the hell are you two doing here? I wasn’t expecting you yet.”

“Expecting us? Look, father, we could use--.”

Padre’s attention was suddenly drawn to one of the rods. Bent down, the line was whizzing out. He moved past Aleph and crouched down to grab the handle. “Give me a hand with this,” he said. As he adjusted the tension on the reel, he looked up. “C’mon, A-frame, post haste!”

Aleph crouched down next to Padre. “Hold it here,” Padre said. “Tight.” He looked into Aleph’s eyes. “Do not let go.”

Aleph grabbed the rod with both hands just above the butt. The catch was pulling hard, so he pressed his feet into the metal holster and leaned back.

“Son of a bitch is gonna snap the line,” Padre said. He lowered the drag and let the cord run out. The spool zipped and whirred as line disappeared into the silty gulf.

When he noticed the swiveling slowing, Padre flipped the bail and started cranking. “Hold onto that rod,” he said. “I already lost two today… Christ, the fucker’s strong.”

“What is it?”

Padre smiled.

“You’ll see.”

Padre cranked the reel. The rod bent so far down Aleph thought it might snap in half and fling him back onto the cement. He was starting to lose his grip when Padre yelled.

“There it is!”

Spooks and Aleph followed the line into the choppy surf. Just past the rocks something golden and glittering shone just beneath the surface, like a school of tiny gold coins, flipping and reflecting light from countless divots and ridges. Padre reeled the sparkling mass ashore and it slapped against the rocks. Thick and eel-like, fins and jaws like a shark.

He kept cranking.

The line caught a rock and snapped.

Padre abandoned the reel and slid down the rock barricade. Flapping wildly between boulders, the serpent vied for the water, feeling the spray of crashing waves on its glimmering skin and slapping its tail. When Padre scrambled down to it, he slipped, and his leg went near the gnashing mouth, opening and snapping shut with endless rows of teeth.

“Shit!”

Padre yanked his leg back and pushed himself up onto his feet. “Not today, you bastard!” He grabbed the thing by the tail and ripped it up from the rocks.

Padre struggled to keep his balance as he held the thrashing weird thing away from his body. “Fuck!” he said, took an awkward step. “Shit.” He made his way a bit further up the rocks and swung the catch onto the concrete jetty, skittering over the ledge on his hands and feet.

“Keep the dog away from it!”

Spooks backed away, his tail between his legs. Aleph stood and watched imbicilically. Padre cleared the jetty, stood up, and hollared.

“Woo-eee!” he said. “That’ll do.”

He took a pair of work gloves from the canvas tool bag and pulled them over his bleeding hands. “The son of a bitch’s skin is like sandpaper made from diamonds. Shit’ll cut you up good.” He unsheathed a long, thick knife and put it in his back pants pocket. “That’s why we want it.”

The fish was even more brilliant on land. The sunlight bouncing off its faceted skin was blinding as it slapped and gyrated on the jetty, its enormous eyes dull and black. Padre walked behind his golden trophy and dragged it by the tail into the center of the path. He took the knife and sliced deep into the underside of its back fin.

Padre stood up, took a deep breath, and exhaled. The creature bled out silver ooze onto the concrete, each heartbeat emptying it further, a mercury amoeba expanding around the golden body as it twitched and splashed in itself. The black of its eyes shrank to pin dots floating in a lifeless grey.

Aleph and Spooks watched in amazement. Padre spoke. “Well then,” he said with a toothy grin, “why don’t we drag this back into town and see if I can’t help you fellas out.”

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