by David Wood
Holloway used a Sharpie to mark an X on the shore. “This is Sweeney’s camp.” He marked a circle a bit further south. “This is the wallow. And this is more or less where you found all that’s left of Sweeney.” As he tapped the pen to make a dot a few yards into the lake, Gazsi grunted.
They looked up, Aston flicking a questioning eyebrow. The first mate looked around the group before shaking his head and turning back to the wheel.
“You talk to Olli?” Aston asked Slater.
“Yeah. He said not to worry about it. Gazsi will do as he’s told, and Makkonen told him to shut up and drive the boat.”
Holloway used a clear plastic rule to mark out a grid across a large section of the lake. “We’ll start traversing here,” he said. “As we map the lake bed and take sonar, we can try to get an idea of maybe where something large might move.”
Makkonen, looking over Holloway’s shoulder, pointed. “Start here?”
“Yes, please.”
The captain went to stand beside Gazsi and the boat’s engines gunned. As they tracked back and forth it quickly became apparent that several parts of the lake, even this close to shore, were far deeper than they had anticipated.
Aston sat watching the sonar screen, occasionally pulling paper readouts off a printer and examining them. “This is weird,” he muttered.
Dave’s lens swung into view and Slater said, “What have you found?”
Aston blinked slowly, took a breath. Thankfully the coffee and bacon had started to do their job, but he still didn’t feel great. And even without a hangover, this incessant camera intrusion was never going to be okay.
He lifted a section of printout for the camera to see. “These are indicating several deep channels even among the already deeper water. And some of these pings are echoing as if there are caves or passages running surprisingly deep very near to the shoreline.”
“And what does that mean?” Slater asked.
“It means,” Laine interrupted, “that there are plenty of places for a creature or creatures to hide. Big creatures.” He looked to Aston. “Yes?”
Aston nodded, but was busy watching Gazsi. The first mate was distinctly uncomfortable at the news. As Aston opened his mouth to ask what was upsetting the man so much, Gazsi turned and stalked from the bridge.
With a frown, Aston turned back to the camera. “Regardless, one thing is made very plain by these readings. Finding anything in a lake this size, of such massive and varying depths, is going to be harder than looking for a needle in a haystack.”
Laine barked a laugh. “Nonsense! A needle in a haystack doesn’t leave a trail to be followed.”
“A trail of body parts?” Aston challenged.
“Faith, ladies and gentlemen!” Holloway said, loud and strong like a carnival barker or a tent church healer. “Faith and science combined, in fact. We will most certainly find something. I know it!”
But the day passed in a slow, excruciatingly dull pattern of motoring back and forth, scanning and recording data. Nothing interesting beyond strange geology interrupted the drudgery of the work. As the day wound down, despite the lack of progress, Holloway’s enthusiasm was undiminished.
“Tomorrow’s another day!” he announced pointlessly as the light began to fail late in the evening.
Aston wished he could have a glass of whatever the billionaire was drinking.
* * *
Gazsi crept along the deck while the ship slept. The lake lapped against the sides, gentle caresses in the moonlit night, but the serenity of his surroundings did nothing to settle his upset. He was no fool and he’d had enough. Makkonen paid him, but not sufficient for this. These bloody fools would all get themselves killed and he wanted no further part of it.
Gazsi knew well the legends of the lake and he had good reason to believe them. On two separate occasions he had seen things he couldn’t explain, movement in the water of something far bigger than fish. His uncle claimed to have seen the great monster up close, and that man had no reason to lie. Gazsi was happy, though always cautious, to work the lake, but to actively seek the creature? To disturb it and invoke its wrath? That way lay nothing but violent death, he was sure.
Gritting his teeth, working as carefully as possible, he slowly lowered the tin dinghy to the water below. He winced as it knocked against the boat a couple of times as he hung over the side and dropped into it. Not wanting to draw the attention of anyone on board, he ignored the small outboard motor in favor of the oars. Besides, no telling when that Slater woman would go on another of her late night strolls. Gaszi didn’t trust her, not one bit.
He headed almost directly for the shore, aiming to round one small cove for an easier landing. He only wanted dry land beneath his feet. He didn’t mind a long walk through the forest to get home if it meant he was away from these idiots and their mania. They had found a human foot, for god’s sake. What more proof did they need? Proof not only of the thing’s existence, but of their absolute helplessness in its presence.
The lake was still and silent but for the soft splash of his oars under a wide vault of sparkling stars, the gentlest of breezes cool. With his back to the shore as he rowed, Gazsi stared across the vast expanse of water, a black mirror in the night. A moment of swell made his heart hammer. What the hell was that? Something had moved, about a hundred yards from him, like a serpent it twisted a huge S in the still surface then vanished. A strange sound echoed out, drilling through the silence. A long, low whistle, unlike any bird Gazsi had heard. He was a born and bred lake resident, hadn’t even holidayed far away. He knew the land and the wildlife intimately. It was why he had no trouble believing the monster stories. They were not just tales to scare children.
The disturbance rose again, and a shallow hump arced across the surface, this time only fifty yards away. It couldn’t be. Gazsi racked his brain for a rational explanation. He knew that in a lake such as this, converging ripples, upon colliding, often gave the impression of a moving hump. But this was something different. It had to be fifty feet across or more, twisting with a serpentine grace that was mortifyingly hypnotic. As it coiled, it split the reflective surface of the lake into a rapidly expanding set of wavelets before it sank away again. Then that whistle once more, penetrating in the darkness.
“I just want to go home,” Gazsi whispered, again and again. It became a mantra, each utterance lending force to every pull on the oars. The cool breeze at his back froze the sweat that ran in rivulets down his neck. An invisible hand seemed to grip his throat. He kept on, rowing harder, careless now of any noise he might make. He wanted only to be on land.
He rounded a spit and headed for the shore, a touch more comfortable since he was out of sight of the Merenneito. They would find the dinghy again easily enough and there were a couple of inflatables on board to get them around to fetch it back. In his haste he jumped into the water a little too soon, gasping as he sank to his waist before his boots hit the bottom. No matter, cold and wet was nothing to be worried about. He hauled his way out and dragged the small boat up onto the mud, ensuring it was well clear of the water, and took a couple of steps toward the trees when the whistle sounded again.
“What the hell…?”
It was coming from somewhere nearby. What kind of creature made a sound like that? He racked his brain for birds, migratory species maybe, not regular residents. Had he ever heard this call before?
Movement ahead in the dark caught his attention and he squinted into the shadows as the low, lancing sound came again. He tried to pierce the inky gloom between the trees. Was that a person he saw there, the silhouette of a man, black against the deeper darkness? Surely not.
Don’t be an imbecile! he chided himself, embarrassed to be jumping at shadows like a child. He was off the boat, away from those crazy monster hunters, and he was off the water, safe on land. He started to draw a deep, settling breath when a soft splashi
ng caught his attention.
His blood ran cold as the splashing increased and he heard water sluicing onto the mud of the lake shore behind him. A tiny voice buried deep in the recesses of his mind urged him to run, but his feet were frozen to the ground. A heavy slap, like a giant foot stomping into the wet silt, echoed back off the trees. Gaszi’s knees threatened to fold, his entire body vibrated with tremors, as another slap followed the first, then a sucking draw, as of something massive being dragged through the mud.
Gazsi was sure he saw the shape of a man slip back into the darkness between the trees as the slap drag sounded once more. Jaw subtly chattering, sobs threatening to burst from him, Gaszi slowly turned his gaze back to the water. He saw a wide expanse of shining gray and his scream died in a ragged gurgle as blackness descended over him and huge, glistening white teeth clamped down on his abdomen. He had a moment of rational thought, in which he struggled to comprehend what the moonlight had revealed to him, before razor sharp teeth severed his spine.
Chapter 10
Aston rose the next morning cranky for no readily apparent reason. He’d had trouble sleeping, tossing and turning throughout the night, plagued by disquieting dreams. He walked to the boat’s prow in the soft light of dawn and leaned against the rail, cupping his hands around a steaming coffee mug. Mist drifted across the still surface of the lake, snaking around like dragons as restless as he felt. Was it perhaps the strange discoveries that had him so antsy? He was having more trouble laughing off Holloway’s enthusiasm for the beast they sought with every new thing they learned.
Low clouds striped the soft pink skies, a large vee of migrating geese traveled overhead. In the early stillness he easily heard the papery hiss of the breeze through their numerous feathers even though they were a good hundred feet above him.
Aston sighed, shook his head. There would surely be an explanation for all this that was a lot more mundane than Holloway might like to think. In this remote location, with the stories of the locals circling their minds like hungry sharks, it was easy to imagine the most outrageous explanations. The truth was always far more boring than fantasy. Local legends arose precisely from that boredom, from a need for something greater, something to set this place apart, make it not just another isolated shithole with nothing special to offer.
But if they were on the trail of something earth-shattering… If they really did discover a new or previously-considered extinct species, it could be incredible. And it could do wonders for Aston’s career, his profile, his chances of future funding. Or, of course, it could ruin him and make him a laughing stock in the scientific community. In truth, he was looking forward to an end to this whole farce.
“Morning,” a low voice greeted him.
Aston turned to see Makkonen standing by the bridge, brow creased in a frown.
“Morning,” Aston said. “Everything all right?”
The captain shook his head. “Gazsi isn’t on board.”
“What?” Aston stepped across deck to look along the side and the tin dinghy harness was empty. He looked back up to Makkonen. “Where’s he gone?”
“No idea. Deserted, I think.” Makkonen grimaced. “Wouldn’t have believed it of him.”
“You mean he’s run away? Just like that?”
Makkonen nodded. “It looks that way.”
Aston cursed, not sure whether he was annoyed or impressed with the first mate’s actions. “I noticed he didn’t look very happy yesterday.”
“He wasn’t,” Makkonen confirmed. “He’s superstitious and easily spooked, believes all the rumors and stories. When you brought that foot on board he was really upset.”
Aston took a swallow of coffee, giving himself a moment to think. “What’s his game, do you reckon? You think he’s going to report us?”
Makkonen shook his grizzled head again. “No. Your lady, Slater, asked me the same thing and I talked to Gazsi about it. He said he didn’t care for the authorities and had no intention of reporting anything, but he didn’t like what we were doing and he wasn’t sure he wanted to be a part of it, Holloway’s money be damned.”
“Why not just ask us to take him back? Why leave in the night and steal our dinghy?”
The captain laughed ruefully. “Embarrassed, I expect.” He tapped one finger to his temple. “Kids, you know, they think strange stuff.”
“So what do we do?”
“If Holloway agrees, we’ll make a trip back to town. There’s a good chance Gazsi left the boat there. If not, we have a couple of inflatables on board for emergencies.”
“Couldn’t help but overhear.” Alvar Laine appeared from the stern. “I just unpacked one of the inflatables, actually, when I saw the dinghy gone. I was planning to head back to Kaarme. Holloway wants some supplies restocked.”
“You’re up early,” Aston said.
“I don’t want to be away and miss too much here, so thought I’d leave first thing.”
“I would have thought Holloway would send Joaquin for supplies.”
Laine nodded. “He did, last night. But I wanted the excuse to visit home, check in on my wife and son, so I offered to go instead.”
“Cool. Then maybe you can look for our tinny in town, yeah?” Aston said. “Bring it back if you find it?”
“Of course.”
“Watch the shoreline all the way back.” Makkonen said. “It’s possible Gazsi only rowed to shore, then walked. He likes to walk everywhere, that boy.”
“Okay,” Laine said. “I’ll see you all in a few hours.”
“It’s a hell of a long row to town,” Aston said.
Laine grinned. “We’re lake people. We’re used to long rows. Besides, if Makkonen is right I’ll hopefully find the… what did you call it, the tinny?… along the way. Then I can use its motor and tow the rubber one.”
“All right. Good luck.”
Laine nodded and headed off to the rear of the Merenneito.
Aston leaned on the gunwale, sipped his coffee. Splashing rose up and he leaned out to see Laine rowing away from the dive platform. Driven by the man’s strong and practiced stroke, the orange and blue rubber dinghy plowed away toward town. He raised his hand in a wave and Laine nodded, grinned, not breaking stroke.
* * *
Over breakfast, Aston passed on the news that Gaszi had jumped ship. Holloway was angry about it while Slater ensured Dave filmed the news, making Aston repeat himself for the benefit of the camera.
“Does the captain know why Gazsi left?” she asked.
“Says it’s because he believes all the lake monster stories and was too scared to stick around,” Aston said. “The kid got spooked, basically.”
Makkonen entered the galley and Holloway turned to him.
“Is this going to be a problem, your first mate deserting us?” Holloway’s knuckles shone white from his clenched fists.
The captain tore off a mouthful of bread, grinned around it. “No problem for you. Just makes more work for me.”
“Are you all right with that?” Holloway sounded a touch calmer.
“What choice do I have? You want to wait while we motor back to town and I find somebody else?”
Holloway snorted. “Certainly not if you can cover for him.”
“It’s fine for now. I’ll ask for help from you lot if needed.”
“So where do we stand?” Slater asked the room in general. “What’s on today’s agenda?”
Aston finished the last of his third coffee of the morning and stood. “Well, Laine has gone into town for a supply run, and to look for the boat Gazsi took. Meanwhile, we keep mapping and searching. We’ve barely covered half of yesterday’s grid and that’s only a tiny fraction of this lake. But first!” He raised an index finger theatrically.
“Yes?” Slater prompted.
“First I have to piss. I’ve drunk too much coffee today
.” He grinned at her exasperation and headed for the door.
Chapter 11
Alvar Laine moored up the dinghy and cut the engine, thankful it had been so close to the Merenneito. He didn’t mind a bit of exercise, but it was a long way and he wasn’t a youth any more, regardless of what he’d told Aston. He climbed up onto the dock and paused to take in Kaarme, the tiny town nestled on the shore of its namesake lake. Weatherboard buildings dominated the narrow street. All around he saw brick and stone, steep roofs, and small windows. Some buildings were giant inverted vees, made to hold up beneath even the heaviest snowfalls. Deep green pine trees and bright green grass framed the scene in vibrant hues
A wistful smile painting his face, he headed across the marina for home. It wouldn’t take long to check in with Charlotta and say hi to Nikla, if the boy hadn’t left for school yet. In all honesty, he would rather stay out on the lake, and be sure not to miss anything. But his family was already annoyed at his absence and he was keen to keep things on an even keel if he could. He might even be in time to sit down and have breakfast with them both. It would give him a chance to remind Charlotta just how much Holloway was paying him. If one thing would appease his wife, it was the thought of how much more quickly their mortgage might be paid from this venture. There was no way he could risk his involvement; it was the chance of a lifetime. If that meant a day with his family instead of on the expedition, so be it. He was unlikely to miss much.
“Enjoying your adventures?” The voice dripped disdain and Laine sighed.
He turned to face Mo. The old man stood on the corner, the early sun bright through his mop of pure white hair. “What are you talking about?”
Mo sneered. “Taking these Americans out onto the lake, no doubt stirring up things best left undisturbed. You should know better, Alvar.”
“Are you jealous they didn’t offer you some of their dollars for your expertise?” Laine tried to inject as much derision in his tone as Mo, but he lacked the old man’s cynical skills.
