“It’s him,” John said. “The orca came back.” It turned, pressed its body against the side of the boat, and pushed. The hull shifted. Fiberglass creaked. Sand scraped underneath, but less than before.
A third shove—stronger this time—rocked the yacht hard enough to send a few loose bottles rolling across the cabin floor. The hull shifted, dragging over sand. John’s pulse raced with each jolt. He leaned over the rail and locked eyes with the whale, only a few feet away.