by Michael Cole
Meya lifted her arm to wipe her eyes with her upper sleeve. Her vision felt slightly cloudy. Working all night was finally catching up with her. She had not planned on doing this examination, but it was a favor to Sydney and he insisted that it’d be done quickly. They had stopped at the police station for her to get her vehicle, and came straight to Readfield Hospital.The chill in the room only worsened her drowsiness, and she had to resist the urge to rush the examination.
“Upper fixed rips have been severely cracked at the point of contusion beneath chest area,” she said. “Along with the stretching and tearing at the latissimus dorsi and serratus posterior, there are multiple tendons that have been…snapped at those regions.” She began examining the wound where the lower body had detached. “The remainder of the abdominal muscles show signs of thinning. Most of the intestines are no longer intact. Kidneys and bladder also appear to be missing, and a portion of the stomach has been torn away.” She looked up at her nurse, who had taken a step back. Meya could hear her taking deep breaths. “You okay?” she asked.
“Y-yeah.” The nurse nodded her head affirmative, even while appearing to be a little green around the gills. “Sorry…just needed to…”
“Not used to seeing this kind of thing?”
“It’s more the smell,” the nurse commented. Meya nodded her head, understanding. She sometimes forgot she was in a very small area that wasn’t used to such incidents. She returned her attention to the corpse.
“Uhh…spinal column has been separated at…between lumbar and thoracic regions. Swellings in upper areas of spine indicate herniation due to trauma. There are no signs of…” she stopped as an uncontrollable yawn came out. “Excuse me…uhh…conditions of severed region indicate no signs of cutting or sawing. The…uhh…muscular and skin conditions…” she shook her head, tired and frustrated. She looked at the nurse. “Sew her back up,” she said, practically whispered in exhaustion, and went back to the prep room. Sydney exited the observation room and went around a small hallway to join up with her.
“So…” he impatiently waited for her analysis, “what happened? So we know somebody didn’t take a chainsaw to her. Why is she in two pieces?” Meya ripped off her mask and gloves and tossed them into a biohazard trash bin. Then she pulled on the hair tie that had held her hair back in a ponytail and gently shook out the waves.
“She was pulled apart,” she said finally.
“Pulled apart?” Sydney questioned, as if waiting for her to clarify. “I mean, did somebody go medieval on her? What does that mean?”
“I don’t know,” Meya said. “She was clearly caught in the tie-off line for the pontoon boat. Something had a hold of her legs and just…” She made a creaking noise to mimic bones snapping. She scrubbed her hands and went into a changing room to remove her scrubs. She quickly came out in her regular clothes and walked out. Sydney followed her to a staff room, where she went straight for the coffee.
“What the hell is going on here?” he asked. “First, we had that boat accident, then this…in two consecutive days. Each one with unexplained circumstances.” Meya loaded her coffee with sugar and downed half her cup. While she waited for the caffeine to settle, she thought of Sydney’s mention of the accident. She thought of Don and his freak-out that morning, specifically his mention of a monster in the lake. Initially, she figured it was a confused, injured man babbling. Now, she wondered if there was something to it.
“What if there is something in the lake?” she said. Sydney gave her a blank stare. “Remember I mentioned the victim babbled something about a monster in a lake?” He nodded, warily. “With these disappearances, maybe there’s an animal loose in this lake.”
“You think an animal caused that accident, and tore that lady in half?” Sydney said. He spoke as if he was interrogating Meya, which irritated the exhausted physician. “There’s no wildlife around here that could do that.”
“But think of it,” she insisted. “We found that shell. And already have a report of something in the water…”
“From someone with a concussion, high on meds,” Sydney interrupted. Meya exhaled sharply.
“I’m just saying, what if….”
“What would it be? An escaped crocodile? There were no tooth marks found on that body,” Sydney said.
“What if something escaped from a zoo or something?” Meya said.
“We’d get notified,” Sydney replied. “Besides, there’d been no reports of wildlife escaping from any facilities.” The ringing of his phone ended the conversation, much to Meya’s relief. Giving up, she returned to her coffee. Sydney looked at the caller ID. It was dispatch. “Yeah?” he answered.
“Chief, I wanted to notify you we just got a call in regarding two missing persons. Names are Robert Nash and Susan Jean.”
“Oh great,” Sydney said. “Just what I need. Was there any mention of when and where they were last seen?”
“Both were reported to be heading to the lake last night…to meet with a Don Baker.” Sydney processed the new information for a moment.
“Thank you, Dispatch,” he said. “Keep me informed of any new reports.” He hung up the phone and turned toward Meya.
“Everything alright?” she asked.
“There are people missing, who I think were involved with that accident,” he began. “Where is Don Baker’s room?”
“He’s been moved,” she said. “He had to be relocated to another hospital.”
“Alright…which one?” Sydney said. Meya refilled her cup.
“I’m not at liberty to say,” she said. “HIPAA laws prevent me from providing that information.” Sydney became visibly irritated.
“You’re not at liberty? There are two people missing and that guy knows what happened. I’m going to ask again…where is he?”
“Morgan!” she said, voiced raised. “I’m bound by LAW to not provide that info! You know…THE LAW…what you enforce. I can’t give you such info without a warrant. Besides, the guy is sedated. He wouldn’t be able to tell you anything.”
“Then they can wake him up,” he said.
“He’s sedated because he’s in severe pain,” Meya said. Sydney waved his hand condescendingly and started toward the door.
“Don’t give me a sob story about pain,” he said, tapping his left leg. Meya angrily slammed her mug down, splashing coffee everywhere.
“Oh, right! I forgot, I’m talking with Mr. Sensitivity. I seem to remember him!” Sydney glared at her and thought of several things to say. He maintained just enough control to keep them to himself.
“Just finish your shift,” he said and walked out into the hall. Meya heatedly followed him to the doorway.
“Listen, Hotshot! I don’t work for you. I did this as a favor…after being up all damn night!” Sydney didn’t listen and continued toward the lobby, where he’d find the building exit. Meya leaned against the wall, feeling the air flow from the vent. It helped to calm her down. She felt unappreciated, despite her best efforts. She cleaned up the mess from her coffee, and went to her office to sign a few papers. She rushed a few signatures and snatched up her keys. She went to her car to drive home. She was ready to sleep…for a month it seemed.
CHAPTER
14
“Here we go…” Dave Culverhouse gritted his teeth as he held his aching pole taut. The twelve-foot johnboat quivered in the water as he fought to bring in a northern pike, which tugged viciously at the spinner. It was strong and desperate, and not showing any signs of tiring out. He could feel the sweat rolling off his face, soaking his red beard. Though the cove was well shaded, the heat was still prominent, and it was worsened by the physical effort he exerted.
Anchored about five yards away, DeAnna Scott and Jeremy Rogers watched intently. The couple spouted a mix of cheers and guidance as Dave fought his perceived trophy, while also betting with each other on whether he’d bring it in. The line started to ease up, and Dave felt an opportunity arise. He pulled up on the line and began reeling in.
At the exact moment he pulled upward, the fish suddenly made another strong dive. The pole arched to a near ninety-degree angle, and then suddenly shot back up to its normal form. The line went slack and weightless, and started to coil in small loops. The unseen fish swam off to freedom, taking the broken steel leader with it.
“Oh come on!” Dave yelled into the water. “That was not fair!” He sat down and started reeling in the excess fishing line while listening to the cackling laughter coming from the other boat.
“I saw it before it went down,” Jeremy said. “It had to be thirty-six inches.” Dave bit his lip and glanced over to his friends. Dressed in a red shirt and khaki shorts, Jeremy had his arm around his girlfriend DeAnna. A skinny individual of twenty-eight, Jeremy was enjoying his first real summer break in years, after spending the last five attending school year-round. DeAnna wore a blue shirt and shorts, and she was taking a cruel enjoyment out of witnessing Dave’s defeat. They each had a fishing pole with crawler harnesses extending down into the lake bottom.
“Don’t remind me,” Dave said. The Marine veteran fumbled around his tackle box to grab a new lure to tie on. He moved aside a Smith & Wesson 686 revolver, something he kept with him at all times. This often earned made him the subject of jokes from his friends, but he didn’t care. He kept an eye back to their cars, parked near the shore. They were locked and secured, but he was wary of the possibility of anyone coming by and noticing the shotgun in his back seat. He wasn’t alone in having such habits. Many of the locals carried weapons in Rodney, especially the hunting crowds.
The cove was a fairly shallow area with several weed beds where bass liked to hide. With the trees providing ample shade, it was a prime area for fishing except for a fallen tree that had collapsed just off shore two years ago. The bulk of the trunk was just above the surface, with the mangled branches creating a blockage to the entrance of the cove. The branches were thick, nearly half the width of the trunk. Because it blocked off much of the cove, it was difficult to get the boats out further. They had to follow a specific path to travel over it. Even when going over this “gorge” in the tree, they could see the rotting wood beneath, inches beneath their boat.
Dave used his grey shirt sleeve to clean the sweat from his eyes, continuing to curse the fish that took his line.
“I’m surprised you’re not swimming in after it,” DeAnna said, giggling at him. Dave mocked her laughter with his tongue sticking out. He turned his attention back to his tackle box, deciding on a lure which resembled a bluegill.
“At least I had a bite,” he said. He stuffed some chewing tobacco into his mouth and began tying on the lure. “Have you guys even had a bite? Nah. Probably just fishing each other’s mouths.” He looked over at them, wincing at the sight of the two lovers in the middle of a make-out session. “Oh God! Why’d I say anything?”
“Awww Dave…did your parents never give you the talk?” Jeremy joked.
“Better yet, I know to get a room,” Dave said.
“Don’t know why you’d need one; seeing as you’ve just been rejected,” DeAnna punned, referencing the pike. Both she and Jeremy laughed hard at the joke. David made another mock laugh, while extending his middle finger. Suddenly, Jeremy’s laughter came to a halt as he noticed the tightening of his fishing line.
“Oh! We got a call on line one!” he said, pushing DeAnna aside as he snatched the pole and slowly started reeling in. Dave gave a genuine laugh from his boat.
“Now who’s been rejected?” he said. DeAnna stuck her tongue out at him. Jeremy cursed as he struggled to rotate the reel. After a couple turns, the line was locked tight. There was no struggle or force from the other end, and he could not get it to budge.
“Shit,” he said. “I must be hung up on a rock or something,” he said.
“That’s what you get for laughing at me,” Dave said. Jeremy tried pulling up on his pole, but to no avail. The line was snagged tightly. After struggling for another couple minutes, Jeremy realized he had two options; tug hard and hope the line either came loose or snapped close to the lure, saving him a few feet of line, or cut the line near the surface. With the water being at least thirty feet deep, he didn’t want to lose that much line. The choice was simple. However, the hope remained that he could shake the hook loose of its snag. He got on his knees and reached down into the water, grabbing his line for better leverage. He tugged on it, jerking the line left and right to yank it loose. So far, he was only successful in splashing up water. A splash came up at DeAnna’s face, drenching her hair.
“Thanks a lot,” she said. Jeremy chuckled at her and continued pulling at the line. He leaned out farther. “Careful, babe,” DeAnna said. He gave her a perplexed look.
“Careful? It’s not like something’s gonna come up out of the water and snatch me up.” He returned his attention to the fishing line, splashing up more water as he attempted to free it.
********
The large fish traveled along the bottom of the lake, looking for prey while avoiding the bright sunlight that assaulted its fragile vision. Its eyes were still adjusting to the new environment, causing it to rely more on its lateral line and sense of smell. Over the past several hours, it was unsuccessful in finding prey at the bottom of the lake, which drove it to search elsewhere. It traveled along a large line of weed beds into shallower waters. Hunger caused it to fight against the pain in its eyes as it traveled the brighter areas.
A new series of vibrations triggered its senses. It detected something nearby, near the surface creating displacement in the water. Keeping as low as possible, the Carnobass swam in to investigate. The path it followed let it into a shallow cove, shaded by the tree line. With the direct sunlight being blocked off, the Carnobass was able to focus its sights. There were two floating objects up on the surface, with a small ragged movement coming from one of them. Moving in closer, it could see the red shirt on its prey. Unable to attack from directly beneath, the fish made a straight line at an upward angle toward the nearest target. With a strong flutter of its tail, it shot forward and opened its jaws.
********
A bizarre sensation in the water caused Jeremy to freeze. With his arm dipped in up to his elbow, he felt a bizarre fizzing sensation in the lake, as if some sort of force below was stirring it up. Inside of a moment, he saw the reflection of the two large eyes, and the white inside of the huge circular mouth. There was no time to react.
The water beneath him exploded upward as the fish breached. The boat lifted up over the water and rolled over in midair, flinging DeAnna into the lake. With the event being so sudden, she didn’t have the opportunity to scream. Dave whipped himself around toward them, seeing the swell of water, the boat twirling in mid-air, and a gigantic largemouth bass arching its way back down, with Jeremy in its mouth. It crashed back down and tried to run deep with its prey, but its belly brushed viciously against the rough bottom. It flared its gills and opened its jaw to suck in its prey. Jeremy felt as if caught in a vacuum, as the sudden force yanked him back into a black abyss. The bass closed its mouth and swallowed.
Dave stood frozen on his boat, trying to wrap his mind around what he just witnessed. His friends’ boat submerged beneath the sizzling water, with floating bait scattering in multiple directions. DeAnna emerged and drew in a deep breath. He saw her and snapped into action.
“Swim to me!” he called to her. She looked around, slightly disoriented until she located his boat. She kicked her legs and stroked her arms violently in the water. Dave quickly lifted up his anchor and prepared to start the motor on his boat to help her close the distance, but realized he’d likely overshoot his destination. Tucking his revolver under the belt in his cargo pants, he took a seat and grabbed the oars. He thrust them into the water and steered the boat toward DeAnna.
The fish felt the motion behind it. Lifting itself off the bottom, it turned around and saw the target swimming toward the other floating object. Driven by intense hunger, it pursued.
Dave heaved
the boat backward, looking back to keep an eye on DeAnna. He was coming up close on her. He dropped the oars and leaned over to grab her. Still kicking hard, DeAnna accidentally bumped into the boat and dipped below. She came back up, spitting water as she reached for Dave’s hand. Their fingers barely clasped as a huge swell lifted up behind her. The greenish bulk of the fish emerged, and the gills flapped open like huge flower petals. DeAnna gasped as an enormous suction yanked her from Dave’s grasp. She disappeared into the mouth of the huge Carnobass. It turned sharply, hitting the boat with its tail. Dave fell to his hands and knees, nearly bumping his head on the seat. He stood up on his knees, putting on hand on the side of the boat for support. He drew his revolver and aimed it at the large swells caused by the fish.
Still unable to dive deep, the bass moved upward to the surface. Its large dorsal fin emerged. Dave focused the sights just ahead of the fin, and slightly beneath it, aiming to strike the creature in the neck. He cocked the hammer and squeezed off a shot. The bang caused his ears to ring. It was the first time he fired a weapon without ear protection since Iraq. The bullet crunched against the thick scales on its side, causing the bass to flinch violently. Dave fired the remaining five bullets, each one as futile as the other. The bass slashed from the water and turned his way, following the vibration caused by the gunshots and recoil.
“Shit!” he said. He dropped the gun and yanked the motor cord. Luckily, it started on the first attempt. He dipped the blades into the water, speeding the boat toward shore. With a burst of speed, the Carnobass pursued. He looked back, seeing the fish quickly catching up to him. He looked toward shore, suddenly remembering the downed tree…only about twenty-five feet ahead. “Oh crap!” he exclaimed. The passage was off to the right. He turned the motor, banking sharply as the boat quickly turned to the right. The boat barely cleared the tree, scraping up wood as it passed over the trunk.
