Free Monstrum by Ann Christopher

settle down as everyone performs their own search for items.
    But then Carter brings up the subject I’ve been dreading.
    â€œDid anyone else hear it?” he asks softly.
    There’s plenty to be afraid of around here at the moment, and broaching this topic can only make it worse. The tedious work of rummaging for supplies had helped me lapse into a state of numb disbelief, but now that’s ruined.
    My heart begins a low, sick thud.
    Maggie raises her head from her work and looks around. “Hear what?”
    â€œThat . . .” Carter shrugs helplessly and struggles to get the words right. “It was a shrieking scream kind of sound. I don’t know how to describe it. When the plane crashed. I thought it was some crazy kind of animal.”
    â€œIt was just the plane giving up the ghost, lad,” Murphy says kindly.
    â€œI heard it, too,” I confess. “It wasn’t the plane.”
    Gray frowns at me. “What was it, then? Whale?”
    Carter and I exchange glances. I can tell that he’s thinking what I am. On the one hand, it’s great that someone else heard the thing, so I’m not losing my mind. On the other hand, if there really is a thing, then what was it, where is it now and how dangerous is it?
    â€œIt wasn’t a whale,” Carter says.
    â€œIt was . . . something bad,” I finish lamely.
    No one says anything. I suppose they’re all writing me and Carter off as crazy or hysterical. Who knows? Maybe we are. Anyway, we’ve got enough real and visible stuff going on without worrying about the bogeyman.
    Or the fact that the plane went down in the Bermuda Triangle.
    â€œWhat if this thing—whatever it is—got the others?” Sammy asks. “What if it wasn’t sharks after all?”
    â€œGet real,” An scoffs. As usual, she’s anxious to prove to the world that Sammy isn’t as smart as he thinks he is. “What could be out there that’s deadlier than sharks?”
    Sammy, of course, rises to the challenge. “Orcas,” he says flatly.
    Orcas
.
    With that one word, Sammy lights a match and throws it on our smoldering fear, creating a bonfire.
    Several of us gasp. Most of us stare into the water, trying to see what’s in there.
    â€œKiller whales?” Espi cries. “The black and white ones?”
    â€œOh, my God,” whispers Maggie.
    â€œBut they don’t—” Carter’s bravado seems to have failed him for once, and he has to swallow hard to keep his voice going. “But they don’t live around here. I mean, they prefer the Arctic, right?”
    Sammy shakes his head and regurgitates more Wikipedia. “They live in every ocean. And they like coastal waters, so this should be perfect for them—
what
?”
    Gray, who’s been alternating between shooting worried glances at Maggie and An and giving Sammy lethal glares, changes tactics and puts his arm around Sammy’s shoulder. “Let me ask you something.”
    â€œHit me,” Sammy says.
    â€œWould you like my foot up your ass?”
    Sammy goes utterly still for a moment before shaking his head. “I would not enjoy that, no.”
    â€œOkay, then.” Gray turns Sammy loose. Sammy hastily steps back, out of the danger zone. “We’re agreed. You’re going to shut up with the scary factoids. Thanks.”
    â€œLook!” Mrs. Torres cries suddenly, pointing off in the distance and shooting to her feet. “Do you see that?”
    A ripple of excitement energizes us, and we scoot around to follow her line of sight. I stare hard, trying to penetrate the darkness and straining my eyes until it feels like they’ll bulge out of my head and plop into the water, but I can’t see anything.
    â€œWhat is it, Mami?” Espi asks.
    Mrs. Torres looks at her daughter, her face alight with joy but tempered with bewilderment. “The yacht! Right there! Don’t you see