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smell that? Like putrefying fish guts, that is!”
    Quinn covered his mouth and nose in the crook of his arm. The horrid smell wafted over the deck, and the fishermen began to cough and gag in strained chorus.
    It all happened so fast there was hardly a moment to think. It started with a noise, a small squeal from the pitiful animal lying on the deck. Immediately afterward, an enormous fin—similar in shape to the calf’s—swept up out of the water and struck the side of the little vessel.
    THWACKITY-SMACK!
    It hit the hull with ten times more force than before.
    Everything on board slid sharply toward starboard. Whatever sea life was left in the trough slipped off to the safety of the ocean, including the strange calf. The crew, fighting for their lives and praying the boat wouldn’t tip over completely, grabbed onto a mast, a rope—anything that would keep them from being hurled into the fetid sea.
    The boatswain, Derek, wasn’t so lucky. He jerked his hands out, sliding at sonic speed toward the rail. He didn’t have a chance. Too much sloshing and sludge and inertia. The last thing he saw was a jagged ring of teeth framing a black hole rising out of the sea. A battle between his boots and the creature’s mouth took place.
    The boots lost.
    The next thing the crew heard was the sound of crushing toes and Derek’s screams. For several eternal moments, the boat continued to rock violently back and forth. Knuckles and faces were white with fear.
    A few men were able to pull the injured boatswain back over the rail to safety; he crumpled to the deck like yesterday’s laundry. Only one deckhand had to tease—“Snuffles been tickling yer feet, aye, Derek?”
    First chance he got, Captain Quinn lunged toward the engine room. The ship could stall if enough water poured down the hatch, leaving them dead in the water at the mercy of waves and beast. “All hands! Secure those sails!” he shouted furiously as he slammed into the splintered hatch door, a falling spar nearly missing his head by inches.
    Jimmy held onto his injured arm and leaned over the rail to get a look at what had just pushed their boat around like a plastic toy. It would’ve taken something incredibly powerful to shove their vessel around with that kind of ease—they were lucky not to be sitting at the bottom of Davy Jones’s locker right now.
    The frightful rocking stopped, and the boat finally steadied. Captain Quinn kept bellowing in wild fury, “Look sharp! We don’t want to be sitting here if that thing wants to come back around and play again!” Max darted to the wheelhouse to call for med-flight assistance—he just hoped to get Derek to the hospital in time to save a few toes. The crew pulled the Windstar around and headed back toward the mainland.
    Jimmy couldn’t do much to help, so he plunked down on a nearby barrel and watched everyone else scramble.
    â€œWonder if I should tell this tale at Mulligoon’s Pub tonight,” he said weakly to himself, clutching his bloodied arm close to his side. “Naw, I’d never get another fishing job on a trawler again, that’s for sure.”
    Captain Quinn was reeling from the jolt and fuming mad. Two crewmen down. His vessel almost sunk. For years, he’d been searching for a possible clue to Brandon’s disappearance, only to have to leave it behind. And how was he going to explain this mess to the Coast Guard?
    He searched the deck for the calf .
    Gone. It must’ve flown off after the second hit.
    He spat in a venomous rage. “You got what you wanted, all right, and willing to kill a whole ship full of men to get it! One day I’ll find you!” he thundered. And grabbing a harpoon off the wall, thrust it into the wheelhouse, sending Jives scurrying in complete terror.

Chapter 4

BONFIRE
    S pzzz-sppzz-spzz , the little butterscotch cube lit up like a fizzing sparkler. Lizzy poked at it