You pause for a moment, considering each option.

“Speak up,” barks the captain. “We haven’t got much time.”

You take a deep breath and nervously exhale. The word “harpoon” escapes your lips.

“Ready Ned with a harpoon,” the captain shouts. “Full steam ahead!”

The chase is on.

You follow the creature for hours, for hundreds of miles. Every time the Abraham Lincoln gains on the monster, it pulls effortlessly ahead. Sometimes it even runs circles around the ship.

The captain orders more speed. The Abraham Lincoln’s masts tremble, and clouds of smoke pour out of the narrow funnels.

The chase lasts all day, and the sun starts to set. You fear you will never catch the creature. Then, just as suddenly as the chase began, the monster stops.

The captain orders, “All stop!”

With the engines turned off, the Abraham Lincoln slowly glides toward the monster.

All is silent on the ship’s deck as you watch Ned ready his harpoon.

He hurls the weapon with deadly accuracy. You hear the harpoon klang as it strikes the creature, almost as if it hit metal. The creature’s light goes out. Two enormous waterspouts erupt from the beast and blast the bridge of the Abraham Lincoln.

Water rushes from stem to stern. Rigging lines snap, and men are washed overboard in a tangle of limbs. The ship lurches from a terrible shock.

You grab for the rail and feel the slippery wood beneath your fingers for a moment. But it’s too late. You tumble helplessly into the sea.