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Without his knife, the old man couldn't cut the line. His only
hope was to pull the hook free of the monster, and so he wrenched
on the line as hard as he could.
The beast's scream of fury made me throw my arms around my
face and cower at the bottom of the boat. I heard something clatter
down beside me, but I was too afraid to look.
And I'm glad I didn't, because above the thundering sounds of
beast and sea, I heard something that I knew I didn't want to see. It
was the old man, going mad, calling out to the beast as if he knew
him! Six-Finger Fiske actually laughed-a bitter laugh. "Only a
fool would seek you out before his time-and I am that fool!" he
shouted. And then, calmly, as if in answer to a question that only
he could hear, he said, "Yes, I should have known. It isn't I who
sought you, but you who sought me." And then he suddenly called
out, "The light!"
It was still dark. I didn't know what he meant. But the fact is, I
didn't care. I only cared about myself. And in that moment I
thought I was going to die.
"It's not your time," a raspy voice rumbled deep in my head, as if
in response to my fear. It was a voice that had the weight of
countless years upon it.
In the next moment, I heard a huge splash, and a gigantic wave
rose up out of the sea and picked up the fishing boat. I clung to the
boards at the bottom of the boat, fearing that the wave would crash
on top of me and throw me out into the sea
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