“Stay upright,” he muttered through clenched teeth, though the words came out more like a prayer than an order. The hull shuddered again, harder this time, and the lantern rattled from its hook, swinging crazily. He lunged for the tiller, but the outboard had sputtered to silence, leaving him adrift and helpless.
Panic clawed through him. He yanked the starter cord, once, twice, three times, each pull tearing at his shoulder. The motor coughed, caught for a second, then died. He glanced over the side, half-expecting teeth or a breaching mass of flesh, but there was only the black sheen of water and the faint trace of a bulge moving beneath.