Above, binoculars caught fleeting glimpses of Nathaniel’s silhouette inside the giant’s mouth. Gasps spread across the deck. “He’s alive!” someone shouted. Hope warred with disbelief. Why hadn’t the whale spat him out? Every moment stretched longer, the sea holding its secret in agonizing suspense.
Inside, Nathaniel felt pressure shift, muscles tightening then easing. It was deliberate, not random. He realized the whale was adjusting its hold to keep him safe from currents and collisions, sheltering him as it navigated through turbulent water. He was being carried, not consumed—a passenger in a body built for survival.