#65
A Watery Grave
By J. Vandersteen
About the author
CRYING, SHE SAT AT THE LAKE. She should have known she couldn't trust that pervert.
They told her to never trust a quarterback. She didn't want
to lose him, but she hadn't been ready for what he had
wanted from her either. That is why the jerk had thrown her out
of the car. She'd been running for 15 minutes until she
arrived at the lake. She was so tired. She just had to sit down
and rest for a while.
Then suddenly she
felt a cold grip tightening around her neck. She grabbed at it,
trying to free herself, but she couldn't get hold of it.
Whatever was holding her seemed to slip through her fingers like
water… Then she realized it was water.
The cold, wet hand
pulled her nearer to the lake while she struggled. She tried to
crawl away from it, but the water was stronger. Then, finally
realizing how futile her struggles were, she gave up and
disappeared in the cool blue lake.
* * *
Staring calmly at the
lake, Harvey Banks lit a cigarette. He shook his head. Why the
hell had his editor sent him here? He noticed nothing out of the
ordinary. It was just a lake like so many others.
He cursed. While
other reporters were traveling around the world interviewing
starlets and politicians he had to go to a stupid little backward
town in South Carolina to investigate a "man-eating
lake".
Twenty people, the
most recent of which a teenage girl, had drowned in the lake
during the last 20 years. All victims had been known as excellent
swimmers and no one understood how they could drown.
Now all sorts of
tales about the lake were being told. Some said the lake was
haunted, others said a serial killer was roaming around. So far,
Harvey had only heard old wives' tales.
He sighed. Since
there didn't seem to be any story there he walked back to
his car. He decided to spent the night at the motel and drive
home early in the morning.
* * *
He was lying on his
bed, still dressed, with a bottle of Jack Daniel's in his hand.
He'd fallen asleep watching TV. His room was infested with
cockroaches, but at least it had the Playboy Channel.
Then he woke up to
a loud scream. He jumped out of bed and ran to the window. People
were coming out of their houses to see what was going on. He saw
a woman crying hysterically.
Harvey didn't
enjoy being interrupted in his sleep, but he knew a story when he
saw one. So he put on his glasses and went outside.
* * *
Harvey moved through
the crowd straight towards the screaming woman.
"What's
happened?" he asked her.
"I-I was walking
by the lake with my boyfriend when suddenly the water came alive!
It-it seemed to reach out for us like a giant hand, pulling him
under! It just devoured him, like-like a cat would devour a
mouse! Oh god, he must be dead!"
"You on drugs,
lady?" Harvey asked coldly.
The woman's eyes
widened; angry, she ran to him, clobbering his chest with her
small fists. "You bastard! You sonofabitch!" she
cursed.
He grabbed her wrists
and pushed her back. "You're right I am all that,
probably more too. But I think I might believe you now. Sorry
about your guy." Harvey turned around and went back to his
room. When he drank enough he should still be able to catch some
sleep.
* * *
All right, he
decided. Maybe something weird was going on at the lake after
all. He decided to go to the lake as soon as the poor sucker had
been fished out of the water. He was going to sit there until he
had something to report to The Inquirer, even if he had to wait
till his teeth fell out. Or at least till he ran out of
cigarettes.
* * *
"Damned
idiot," he murmured to himself, sitting on the bank of the lake.
"Like something's really going to happen." But
then he reminded himself of that haunted house in Omaha and that
psychic in Boston, or that witch in Jersey. He had witnessed many
strange things which defied any natural explanation. He had seen
the unbelievable before. Maybe he would see it again.
* * *
He had fallen asleep
listening to the sounds of the crickets and the owls… Then
he felt something cold brushing his ear. Something cold and wet.
Never had he woken up so fast, so suddenly. His eyes widened as
he saw a hand composed of water reaching for him. He got up like
lightning and started to run, because in that instant he
understood the crying woman had spoken the truth. The lake was
alive and now it was after him.
* * *
After a while, still
running, he found the courage to look over his shoulder. It seemed
the lake had given up the chase, because the water was still now.
He stopped running, wheezing, coughing, leaning against a tree
where he coughed up his last meal. Then, after a few minutes, he
got himself under control again.
"That should
teach me… To be careful what I wish for…"
* * *
Driving in his car,
he decided he couldn't allow this lake to keep claiming
those people's lives. He was no hero or exorcist, but he
also knew that if he didn't act, no one would. He knew no
one would believe the stories of the lake till they witnessed the
truth themselves, when it would be too late. He knew the only
reason he still lived was the fact that he had opened his mind to
the possibility the lake was indeed haunted. That had made him
act instead of think. Think, while the lake would kill him.
No, he was going to
do something about this situation and he had a feeling the local
paper could help him.
* * *
He'd smoked half
a packet of cigarettes before he finally found what he'd
been looking for. He'd sifted through 20 years' worth
of newspapers, and this town never heard of microfiches.
"Gotcha," he said smiling at an article titled
"Mother suspected in murder of 6 year old child".
* * *
It had been 20 years
since Janet Wilkins had been to the lake. She remembered it all
too well. It had felt so good to get rid of that wretched lump of
flesh that kept reminding her of the man who'd raped her,
six years before. Getting rid of it had been her only way to find
peace again. The only way to get on with her life. The only thing
she had felt bad about when she had been holding the little
boy's head under water was the fact she hadn't thought
of it before.
But now that ugly
little piece of her past had risen its head again. Three hours
ago she'd gotten a phone call from a man claiming to have
evidence of what she had done. He'd claimed she might have
been found innocent by the jury, but he could still destroy her
life with the evidence he had. He'd told her that if she
wanted to continue her life she should come to the place where
all of it started. She should bring 50.000 dollars to buy his
silence.
Of course, she
didn't intend to pay him. She didn't even have that
much money. What she did have, however, was a gun. She was going
to shoot that blackmailing bastard and get on with her life.
Harvey appeared from
behind a tree, close to the lake. Lighting a cigarette, he
grinned at the woman.
"Hello, Janet.
Must bring back some memories, coming here after all these
years."
"Shut up, you
smug little bastard!" she hissed. "I'm going to
fucking kill you, you asshole!"
She took the gun out
of her purse and aimed it at Harvey.
"Sorry, lady, but
I think someone has something to settle with you first," he
said calmly.
Then the water
started to move again. Slowly it started to flow across the grass
towards Janet. The closer it came, the faster it moved. Then
Janet noticed her feet were getting wet. She looked down at the
puddle she was standing in. She didn't understand. How could
the water have moved in such a direct line?
Then, the water
started to crawl up her leg like a snake. Slowly it encircled her
body, sliding from her thighs to her middle, to her breasts. She
shivered at its cold, almost erotic touch. It reached her neck,
caressing it… and started to tighten like a noose. She tried
to scream but the wet noose was too tight. She couldn't
breathe anymore. She couldn't think as her eyes started to
bulge and her muscles tightened.
She spasmed, and
then, in one single second Janet Wilkins' life ended.
The water dragged her
lifeless body through the damp grass toward its source. There she
disappeared into the fathomless lake, never to be seen again.
* * *
Harvey crouched
beside the lake. "You must've been one pissed off
little kid," he told the lake. "You were so angry at
your mother killing you, you haunted this damn lake. You were so
angry you couldn't cross to the other side. The only way you
could express your anger was killing everyone who came near your
watery grave, craving for revenge on your killer. Well kid, you
got your wish. The bitch is dead. Now go where you belong.
You've been here long enough. You have no place in this
world any longer."
The water started to
ripple. Slowly a face started to form in the ripples. It was the
face of a child. It smiled. Then, suddenly the water was still
again and the face was gone.
"Rest in peace
son," Harvey whispered to the lake and walked away. He had an
article to write. Of course, no one would believe it.
The End.
