John looked again through the binoculars. The skin glistened in the sun, unmistakably black, with a white oval behind the eye—just like a killer whale. At the tail, something was wrong. Thick blue netting was tangled tightly around it.
Every twitch only made the lines cut deeper into the animal’s flesh. John lowered the binoculars. “It’s caught in a fishing net.” Catherine’s hand covered her mouth. “If the water gets any lower…” “It’s not going to make it,” John said quietly.