But it was the mouth that froze Mateo’s blood. The fish snapped at the air, revealing rows of triangular, razor-sharp teeth that clicked together with the sound of a closing trap.
"That was Piraña One," Tomas said, his voice dropping to a low rumble. "The scout. The one who tells the others that something soft has entered the territory." PiraГ±a 1
Mateo didn't put his feet back down. For the rest of the afternoon, he watched the river, certain he could see a hundred pairs of tiny, unblinking eyes waiting just beneath the surface for Piraña Two. But it was the mouth that froze Mateo’s blood
To prove his bravery, Mateo lowered his right foot until his big toe broke the surface. A tiny ripple fanned out, silver against the obsidian water. "The scout
The thick heat of the Amazon hung over the water like a wet wool blanket. Mateo, barely ten years old, sat at the edge of his family’s wooden pier, his bare feet dangling inches above the dark, tea-colored surface of the Rio Negro.
"Don't let your toes dip, niño ," Tomas warned without looking up. "The river is hungry today."