Eli was crouched on the stern of The Salt-Run, untangling a knot in his heavy trolling line, when the screaming started. He looked up toward the public dock fifty yards away. A crowd of bystanders and flashing police cruisers had gathered along the shoreline. People were waving their arms wildly in his direction, yelling at the top of their lungs.
Eli frowned, pointing at his own chest in confusion. Were they telling him to move his boat? He stood up to shout back, but a sudden ripple in the brassy bay water caught his eye. Something massive was cutting through the sea, coming straight toward the side of his vessel. It wasn't a log, and it wasn't a large fish.
A broad black snout broke the surface, followed by two dark eyes and thick, waterlogged fur. A four-hundred-pound black bear was swimming furiously toward his boat, its powerful jaws parted as it closed the gap with frightening speed.