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Authors: Barry Napier

BOOK: Serpentine
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When they neared Valerie’s cabin, she stopped and faced him. The night seemed to grow still around them, even the owls and loons falling quiet for a moment.

“Thanks,” she said. “If you hadn’t pushed me down, that thing…,”

“It’s okay,” he said as she trailed off.

They stood facing one another in silence, looking at each other with a pointed aloofness that only teenagers that have not yet had their hearts broken are capable of. Joe wanted to kiss her and he was pretty sure that she would let him if he tried. But the gravity of the situation was off. They were both still filled with a terror that had not yet worn off. Joe fought the intense urge to take that one step forward and put his mouth on hers and, instead, gave her hand a playful squeeze.

“You got a phone?” he asked.

“Yeah. Dad finally let me have one for my last birthday.”

“Will you text me tomorrow? Just to let me know you’re okay?”

“Yeah, of course.”

They pulled out their phones and exchanged numbers. As he entered her number, Joe realized that it was the first time a girl had ever given him her number.

“How about we meet tomorrow at the shed?” he suggested when their numbers had been exchanged.

“I have no idea what Dad has planned tomorrow,” she said. “So I don’t know what time.”

“Just show up,” Joe said. “I’ll be there. I’ll wait. Or text me.”

“I think I’d rather show up,” she said. “The mystery of it all is really cool.”

“Yeah, I think so, too.”

She smiled at him and Joe released her hand, not sure how much longer he could resist himself. He was surprised when she leaned forward and kissed him on the cheek.

“Thanks for meeting me tonight,” she said. “And, you know, saving my life.”

He could only smile in response. “Good night,” he said.

She headed towards her cabin and Joe watched her go.

When he headed back to his own cabin, the loons, crickets, owls and other night creatures seemed more pronounced. The forest seemed alive. And although most of the sounds were pleasant, Joe couldn’t help but hear that slithering noise in his head, the sound of some unnamable creature from the dark waters of the lake that had sprung up on the shore to devour him.

FOURTEEN

 

 

Ted Wylerman parked his service truck in the driveway of one of the more luxurious homes that sat on Clarkton Lake and instantly felt depressed. The cabin was owned by the Carter family, one of the wealthiest in the area. They rented their home out from time to time when they spent months overseas in Paris or London or wherever the hell they vacationed when they got tired of the beautiful lake view offered from their enormous back deck.

The weekly rent for the cabin was more than Ted’s monthly mortgage payment. He knew this because he had inquired about it as a goof last summer. Looking at the house, Ted simply didn’t understand how someone could put so much money into a home: the pretentious trees by the front stoop that looked like something out of
Alice in Wonderland,
the big marble
C
over the front door, and the elaborate stone walkways that led to a porch that was twice the size of Ted’s bedroom.

He knew no one was home. The Carters had headed out two days ago, lining up wealthy renters that were scheduled to come in tomorrow. He knew all of this because Mr. Carter had told him so three days ago when he had visited Ted’s office and asked to have his floating dock fixed.

Ted cast a glance beyond the immaculately cared-for lawn and to the elegant pier that stretched twenty-five feet into the water. The dock sat at the end of it, looking bare without the Carter’s speedboat and pontoon boat anchored to either side. Ted took the sidewalk that wound around to the back of the house. There were three sidewalks, all leading around the property and connecting in the back at the huge grilling porch. With each step, Ted wondered how much spent money he was passing…from the landscaping to the stone walkways.

Working on properties like this always depressed him. He knew the Carters fairly well and knew that Mr. Carter was some sort of hotshot professor that wrote books and was hired to give lectures. Mrs. Carter was some sort of online savant and had a very successful graphic design company that she ran out of her very large house.

Good for them,
Ted often thought. But of course, he didn’t mean it. Despite the hard feelings, Ted was the sort of man that had no problem owning up to his own shortcomings. Rather than attend college, he had partied in nearby towns, smoked too much pot, and got fired from too many part-time jobs. The way he saw it, he was lucky to be the assistant manager at Dock Doctors, one of only two dock-repair companies in the large lakeside community that thrived in Clarkton.

It was, for the most part, easy work. Based on what Mr. Carter had told him about the dock, this would be a repair that Mr. Carter could have probably done himself. But why do it yourself when you could afford someone else to do it? It was a luxury that Ted knew he’d never have, but he supposed he understood it.

He crossed the back yard and came to the small pier. Like the house, it had been designed to look like something from a much more pristine location. The posts nearly looking Roman and the wood along the pier and the dock had been recently sanded and stained. Beyond that, it looked like a miniature model of the long fishing piers at the beach. Benches sat to both sides in two different locations, along with cute wooden tables affixed to the pier.

Ted reached the end of the pier and came to the dock. Mr. Carter had said that it was lopsided, the right end dipping into the water at an angle that had nearly caused him to lose his balance and fall into the water on a few occasions. As he stood fully on it, Ted saw that he hadn’t been exaggerating. The angle was harsh and any movement on the dock seemed to send the right side of the dock dipping into the water.

Ted’s first thought was that one of the float barrels underneath was in need of repair. This would be an expensive fix, which was great for business, but it would also be a pain in the ass. Most fixes were relatively simple and could be fixed with a special kind of Styrofoam. These jobs were often way overcharged, but the customer was always happy with the quick repair time.

Based on the angle of the dock’s dip, Ted was pretty sure this wasn’t going to be the case. He was going to have to get in the water to check it out, something he had been hoping to avoid when coming out to the Carter residence.

Just to make sure, he lay down on the right edge of the dock, carefully hugging the side so he didn’t fall in from the tilt. His two hundred pounds caused the dock to dip down even more on the right side, making it a bit awkward to stick his hand in the water and try to feel along the base of the barrels submerged in the water. He had to extend his arm all the way, his shoulder stretching over the side of the dock, to securely rest his hand on the curved surface of the flotation barrel.

He ran his hand along the side, not feeling any obvious dents or holes. He knew this meant nothing, as even the smallest of dings could slowly let in enough water to cause the sort of unbalanced position the dock was currently in.

Ted inched his way along the side of the ramp, running his hand along the barrel underwater, feeling for any sort of fault in it. As he neared the center of it, he thought he felt a sizable dent but could not find any puncture with his fingers. He felt around a bit longer, making a note of the location.

He moved on, heading to the far end of the dock, still crawling along on his stomach with his right arm submerged in the water.

When he felt something wrap around his arm, it happened so fast that he wasn’t aware of what had happened until he felt himself being pulled forward.

He cried out as he fell from the dock and into the water. The scream was promptly cut off by a mouthful of lake water. He slapped out his free hand, trying to grab onto the dock, but he was being pulled under too fast. All his fingers managed to touch was the slimy underside of one of the barrels.

He tried pulling his arm free of whatever had it, but it was useless. He could feel whatever it was coiling around his upper arm, climbing up it and tightening its grip at the same time. He slapped at the thing, trying to find purchase. And through it all, he did his best to make sense of what was happening while not choking on the lake water that was going down his throat.

Could it be a snake? A
huge
snake?

It was a possibility, but he was pretty sure a snake would have tried biting him rather than wrapping up his arm and pulling him under.

He was able to grab on to part of the thing’s body as it continued to pull him down and away from the dock, but the body was slippery and he couldn’t dig his nails in.

Then, just as he realized that he was running out of breath, Ted’s feet touched the bottom of the lake. It felt spongy through his shoes and it was difficult to gain much traction. Still, the moment he felt this, he dug his toes in as best as he could and pushed himself forward against the force of the thing that was pulling at him.

He glided forward and upwards easily enough and the sudden surge in his momentum apparently caught his attacker off guard because its grip loosened for just a moment. Sensing this, Ted pulled his arm away and instantly started swimming for the surface. He was sure that at any moment, the thing would wrap around him again. He
did
feel it reaching out for him, something soft yet insistent slapping at his back.

Ted swam faster, his lungs burning and his guts on fire with fear. When he broke the surface, he found himself only two feet away from the Carter’s lopsided dock. He took two huge swimming lunges for it, sucking in air in a huge gulp. When his hand landed on the wood, he jerked himself up at once.

He was halfway out of the water when he felt a vice-like grip on his waist. It jerked him down, but he kept his grip on the dock, pulling up and screaming in pain.

The thing was squeezing him tight, continuing to tighten and pull against him like the Indian Burns he had been given as a kid in grade school. He felt something dig into his back, tearing through his shirt and slicing into his flesh. He screamed, still trying to pull himself away.

But then he felt the thing slap at the side of his face. It reached around, caressing his head for just a moment before latching on with the same force it was applying to his waist and back.

Before the thing clamped down on his head, he saw a dirty white color that was broken by what looked like brown-tinged suction cups. He had just enough time to think of octopi and squids before the white became black, covering his eyes and squeezing.

Ted tried to scream but the tentacle was already over his mouth. It squeezed at his head while he continued trying to pull himself up onto the dock. It was squeezing harder now, hard enough to where Ted was certain that a few of his ribs had broken. But that pain was nothing compared to the pressure he felt in his head as he felt himself giving up, the muscles in his arms no longer able to pull at the dock for safety.

When the thing squeezed harder at his head, his jaw shattered and several teeth splintered and cracked. Again, he tried to scream, but there was nothing. He couldn’t breathe, couldn’t move…

He let go of the dock, unable to fight anymore.

Before he went completely under, the pressure against his head became too much.

There was a crunch and a wet popping sound that left the side of the Carter’s dock covered in blood and chunks of grey matter.

These remnants, left to dry and rot in the summer sun, were the only traces of Ted Wylerman anyone would ever find.

FIFTEEN

 

Joe was sitting on the couch with his earbuds stuck in his ears, listening to the bruising electric sounds of a band called Death Blow. He was staring at the ceiling and thinking about Valerie. He kept seeing her smile—those sparkling white teeth and those thin lips—and wondered what her lips tasted like.

He was in the middle of such speculations when Mac plopped down beside him. She was grinning with the same sly undertones that Joe was accustomed to seeing on their father’s face whenever he had a secret that he couldn’t wait to tell. Mac tapped insistently at Joe’s leg, trying to get his attention. He managed to ignore her for about thirty seconds before it was clear that she had no intention of stopping.

“What?” Joe said, annoyed, pausing the music.

“I know what you did,” she said, the smile still pasted to her face.

“What are you talking about?” he asked, ready to tune her out and ignore her again. Even now, his mind was already drifting back to Valerie, whom he was meeting in less than two hours.

“The other night,” Mac said. “I didn’t see you go out, but when you came back in, you woke me up. I know you snuck out.”

Joe pulled his earbuds from his ears and scowled at her. Sure, he was mad at her but he was also upset with himself. He thought he’d been quite stealthy, but apparently not.

“And?” he said.

“And I want to know where you went.”

“None of your business,” Joe said angrily.

“I want to know. And I want you to show me where you went. If you don’t, I’ll tell Mom and Dad.”

“Why are you telling me now?” Joe asked, wondering what sort of evil schemes an eight year old might be capable of.

“Because I’m getting bored,” she said. “The lake is fun and all, but it’s getting boring. I really wish Dad would rent us a boat for a few days.”

“He will,” Joe said, hoping to seize this opportunity to swerve the conversation. “Just give him time. He’s really busy. You think you could get up in skis or do you just want to tube?”

Mac shrugged and quickly returned to her point.
She’s good,
Joe thought.
She’s going to be a handful when she gets older.

“I’ll tell them,” she said. “Unless you show me.”

For a terrifying instant, Joe thought of the thing that had come out of the water and nearly devoured him. He could easily still see its leathery hide and its impossible black mouth. He thought of Mac standing before it as the thing brought its weight down on her. She was a pest and could be a little bitch at times, but he loved her more than anything on the planet. Thinking of Mac in the same vicinity as that monster made his heart sag. It also made him brazenly protective in a way that he was unfamiliar with.

“I’m not going to show you,” he said.

“Then I’ll tell.”

He believed her right away. She was not really old enough to know how or when to bluff. As much as he hated to do it, he knew of a way to get out of this without causing too much trouble and inconvenience. He had to act fast, though; past experience told him that Mac wouldn’t wait long before running to their folks with the news.

“I snuck out to just hang with a friend,” he finally admitted.

“You don’t have friends here,” she pointed out.

“Well, I made one. We hung out. We caught fireflies.”

Mac’s face lit up at this. “That’s awesome. I want to go!”

“I don’t think we’re going to be doing that anymore,” Joe said. And then, before he knew he was going to say it, he added: “It was sort of scary.”

“Is this friend a
girl?”
Mac asked slyly.

“It’s none of your business.”

“It’s not Mom or Dad’s business, either,” Mac said. “But I bet they’d love to know.”

There’s no way out of this,
Joe thought. He was furious with her but in a small way he actually respected her for being able to blackmail him so efficiently. And besides…he did sort of relate to her claim of being bored with the lake. After eleven days, she was already starting to get bored. It was slowly starting to lose its charms with him, too. But now that Valerie was part of the picture, it had gotten much more interesting.

“Yes. She’s a girl,” he finally answered.

“I want to meet her.”

“You won’t shut up unless I agree, will you?”

“That’s right,” she said, the sly smile coming back to her face.

“Fine,” Joe said. “I’m meeting her in two hours. If Mom and Dad will let you, you can come with me. Tell them you want to ride your bike with me or something.”

The delight on her face almost made Joe not care that she was infringing on his time with Valerie. She was too damned cute for her own good sometimes.

“Thanks, Joe,” she said, leaping on him and hugging him.

“Don’t thank me,” he said. “This is blackmail. I’m only letting you come because I don’t have a choice. I don’t
want
you to come.”

“Oh,” she said, as if she had temporarily forgotten the whole point of coming to him. She then furrowed her brow and did her best to put on an angry appearance.

“Two hours,” Joe said. “You better not make me late.”

She nodded and leaped off the couch, skipping towards their room. Joe watched her go, smiling. She was really smart for an eight year old and even though he acted like she irritated him most of the time, he knew that she was pretty cool as far as little sisters went.

He plugged his earbuds back into his head and zoned out with thoughts of Valerie again, a rather stark contrast to his music of choice. Thinking of Valerie made him feel weird in a way he had heard about and had even experienced with another couple of girls in school, but never to this degree. He thought of what her hand had felt like in his and how oddly romantic the aftermath of seeing the monster had been. They’d shared panic and fear and that had linked them in a way he wasn’t quite able to understand.

He wondered what it would be like to see her this time, two days after their encounter with the thing. He wondered if things would be different and, if so, if there would be a stronger connection or some sort of fissure between them. Mac would be along this time and there was no telling how
that
would change things.

He tried to bring his mind back to the feel of her hand and the way they had looked at one another as they had parted ways. All of it was electric, like a surge to his head and heart.

But it was also all ultimately tainted by the sight of the creature rising up from the lake, nearly paralyzing him with fear. And it was that image that stayed with him until he got up from the couch to meet Valerie an hour and a half later.

 

***

Mac was waiting on the porch steps when Joe walked outside. She looked up to him with a knowing smile and Joe could only roll his eyes. They wasted no time and started off together, Joe on his bike and Mac on her little pink bike that would have to be replaced next year. As it was, Mac’s knees nearly hit the handlebars every time the pedals came up, the chain housing creaking like an old floor board. Joe looked down longingly at the rusted bolts where the training wheels had once been and frowned.

She’s growing up too fast,
he thought.
This must be what parents feel like to watch their kids getting older.

Watching her on the bike made Joe understand that he himself was on his way out of childhood. It was more than just recalling how quickly
his
eight-year-old moments had passed him by; it was seeing how quickly his little sister was growing up. She had gone from training wheels to solo riding far too quickly and was now about to grow out of her first bike. She’d gone from hesitantly jumping into the deep end of the pool back home to waiting impatiently for her turn on the diving board. How in the hell had that happened so fast?

She was humming one of the songs from
Frozen
as she rode alongside him. He wanted to be angry with her but couldn’t bring himself to do it. They had a secret between them now and it made him feel closer to her, maybe even more protective. His dad had told him not too long ago that he’d end up caring a great deal for Mac as they got older and he wondered if this was the beginning of that.

Mac had held her end of their little act up well. When Joe had asked his mom if he could go out on his bike, she had agreed but only if he would take Mac as well. He’d acted as disappointed as he could manage and he was pretty sure she’d bought it. His parents usually had pretty good bullshit detectors but they seemed to be off this summer. Joe supposed it was the fact that they were dealing with whatever issues were between them—issues that Joe had started to sense less and less over the last few days.

Maybe the little vacation to this middle of nowhere lake was repairing whatever was wrong between them. If they had mended fences and worked things out, they’d done it all in private because Joe had been none the wiser. He hoped they were okay now or at least on the way there.

When he and Mac pedaled their bikes by the driveway to Valerie’s cabin, he looked to the yard. She was nowhere to be seen and her dad’s truck was parked where it usually was. He hoped she was already at the little shack waiting for him. With that thought in his head, he quickened his pace. His bike picked up a slight wobble and the humid air whooshed by his head.

“Hey!” Mac shouted. “Not so fast! I can’t keep up!”

Joe thought about how he had crashed on this very road not too long ago and certainly didn’t want the same thing to happen to Mac. That’s just what he needed—Mac to go home with a busted nose or some missing teeth while he was supposed to be watching after her.

He slowed down and then brought the bike to a halt at the footpath that led to the shack. He looked behind him and saw Mac trying her best to catch up. She was slightly hunched up over the handlebars, pedaling as fast as she could. Her tongue was sticking out between her lips as she put extra effort into the last few pumps of her legs. Joe couldn’t help but smile. If she pedaled any harder, the bike would fall apart.

Then, further off behind her, he saw Valerie step out onto the road from her driveway. She turned in their direction, hesitated for a moment, and then started forward. Joe felt his heart start doing cartwheels and he felt an impossibly wide smile spread across his face.

Mac pulled up alongside him, panting for breath and red in the face. She looked up to him, confused. “Why did we stop?” she asked.

“This is it,” Joe said, his eyes still locked on Valerie. She had now broken into a jog to reach them and as far as Joe was concerned, she was running entirely too slow.

“This?” Mac said, looking into the woods. “This little path?”

“Yeah,” Joe said, barely aware that Mac was even talking to him.

Mac turned around then, hearing Valerie’s approaching footsteps. Mac gave her a curious glance and then looked up to Joe. “Is that your
friend?”
she asked.

“Yes,” Joe said. He wondered if this was going to result in hours upon hours of being teased by Mac. He wouldn’t put it past her. It would be a shame, though; he was really starting to like the little brat.

“Hey there,” Valerie said as she came up alongside them.

“Hey,” Joe said, finding it hard to not look at her. Her hair was in a ponytail today, revealing the entire shape of her face. He found himself focusing on odd parts: the curve of her jaw, the soft flesh between her neck and shoulders, and the perfect shape of her ears.

You’re losing it,
he thought to himself.

He managed to look away and then back down to Mac. “Valerie, this is my little sister, Mackenzie.”

“Well hey there,” Valerie said. “You were riding that bike pretty hard, huh?”

“Yeah,” Mac said proudly. “It’s hard, too. I’m getting too big for it.”

“I saw that,” Valerie said, giving Joe a quick smile.

“Sorry for bringing her,” Joe said. “I didn’t have much of a choice. She heard me come back in the other night and threatened to tell our folks if I didn’t let her come along.”

Valerie looked down to Mac and put her arm around her. “I would have done the same thing,” she said.

Mac giggled and then looked to Joe. “Yeah,” she said. “I like her. She should be your girlfriend.”

“Jeez, Mac!” Joe was petrified but the smile on Valerie’s face made it okay.

“I
should
be,” Valerie joked. “But I don’t know. Your brother’s a little clumsy. I’m not sure if he’s my type.”

Joe’s eyes grew wide as they teamed up on him. But when Valerie turned her back to him to look Mac in the eyes, her right hand found his and gave his fingers a squeeze. He squeezed back, understanding that this was all in good fun. She was trying to make Mac feel at ease and maybe even ensuring that Mac now became a part of their secret meetings. If she could do that, Joe felt certain that Mac would never go tattling to their folks about his secret.

“Should we show her the shack?” Valerie asked.

“Sure,” Joe said, trying to find the same playful enthusiasm Valerie was putting on. It felt fake on him, though. He figured he’d let Valerie run with it. Meanwhile, he’d stand by pouting because his little sister was soaking up all of Valerie’s attention.

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