By Lincoln Reed
I found the body at dawn.
The sailor was slumped against the wrecked stern in a bloody pulp. He clung to the humble fishing boat’s planking as the chilled waters of Lake Erie lapped the crumpled hull.
Poor soul.
Bart, my beagle, set his paws on the top rail of our small fishing vessel. Hair bristling, he glanced at me and yodeled a warning bark.
I eased our boat nearer the wrecked craft for a closer look. Given the rags and torn clothing, the dead man could have been a Confederate prisoner of war on Johnson’s Island.
“Heard they been dumping dead prisoners in the bay. Best get him aboard and back to shore. Union captain will want to see this, I think.”
The beagle yapped in agreement.
With our fishing boat swaying, I lassoed a rope over the corpse’s shoulders and hoisted the body into my small vessel.
Lot of blood. Ain’t been dead long, this one.
Bart sniffed the corpse and recoiled—floppy ears pinned back against his skull. His white-tipped tail curved between his quivering legs.
The dead man gripped a small harpoon. I pried his stiff fingers free and weighed the weapon. Wasn’t hunting whitefish or blue pike…
Storm clouds loomed in the distance, billowing with ominous portent. “If we eat today, Bart, oughta get at least one fish, I reckon.”
I set the harpoon aside, threaded a chunk of crayfish onto my hook, and threw the line in the lake. Bart curled next to me, shivering from a sharp gust of cold wind.
Within minutes, the line went taut, pole bending to the water.
Something smacked the fishing boat from underneath. Wooden planks groaned. Bart bayed in alarm.
Not a sturgeon…
The dead body flopped on its side, staring at me with silent foreboding.
My knuckles whitened as I clasped the fishing rod tighter. “Hold on, Bart!”
The pole hunched. Snapped. Flew from my hands and disappeared under the water.
Bart stared at the lake on high alert while I caught my breath and massaged the dull pain in my aged hands. Nothing that big ever…
Gulls squawked overhead. A waft of incoming rain saturated the air as distant thunder bellowed. Lightning zigzagged across the darkening horizon.
In the hollow silence between rumbling thunder, tingling dread scuttled across my neck. I squinted toward the dead sailor. No fish could have…
An inky shadow slithered below the surface.
My mouth dried. Stomach flipped.
I snatched Bart. Nestled him under my coat.
From below, the massive creature thumped the keel.
Our boat heaved upward. The starboard side pitched. Foam crashed. The corpse toppled overboard in a muffled splash, floating like a bloody log.
Once the boat resettled, I hobbled to the top rail and peered overboard on the port side.
I did the same on starboard. No sign of the creature.
Bart’s small body tremored against my chest. He whimpered, poked his head out from my coat, and let loose a worried yap.
From the depths, the strange form glided upward once more. Spotted gills decorated a smooth, serpentine body as wide as a man and longer than any lamprey I’d witnessed in the lake.
Its massive mouth suctioned onto the floating corpse. Circular rows of hooked teeth tore flesh. Bones crunched. The fish from the pit of hell dragged the sailor below.
The lake wasn’t even fifty fathoms. How could it sustain such a beast?
With heart kicking like an alarm bell, I seized the dead man’s harpoon with my right hand and cradled Bart with my left.
The beagle bayed another warning.
A resounding thud shook our fishing boat and knocked me backward.
Nails popped. Wood splintered.
Razor teeth tore through planks. The hull caved like paper.
I tumbled backward in shock, knees giving out as I lost balance. When I toppled into Lake Erie’s frigid embrace, Bart broke free.
Below choppy surface waves, a greenish veneer clouded the underwater world. With boots weighing like bricks, I kicked my legs until my head shot above water. Still gripping the harpoon, I grabbed onto a dismembered part of my fishing vessel. I hooked my arms around a plank, legs dangling below.
I spat water. Gulped air. “Bart?”
Wind whistled. Lightning flashed across the black sky. Thunder boomed.
I glanced side to side with heart sinking, panic welling.
I couldn’t lose Bart. My best friend. Truest pal. Couldn’t let him drown, couldn’t allow the fiend to…
The beagle’s head bobbed, nose pointed upward, legs paddling.
Relief mixed with alarm. Teeth chattering, I called out, “Hu-here, Bart!”
The beagle waded closer but not near enough to snatch him from danger. The more he paddled, the more the lake seemed to push him away.
The monstrous lamprey skimmed my boots.
Bart closed the distance.
The gigantic fish’s malleable mouth clamped onto my right leg, razor tongue drilling into my calf.
My vision blurred. Stabbing pain rocketed through my limb. My teeth gritted in a pained yell.
Bart clambered aboard the primitive raft. His slimy nose brushed my face. A worried whimper followed a growl as if my four-legged companion was coaxing me to fight back.
If I gave up, what of Bart? Who would rescue him? Who would care for him?
My grip tightened on the harpoon. The giant lamprey tugged me below where the storm had turned the submerged world into a void of darkness stained with blood.
Got one shot, I do. Make it count.
Enveloped within the creature’s subsurface lair, I hefted the harpoon like a spear. Aiming for its eye, I thrust the weapon into the fish’s slippery form…
I punched through the surface—missing chunks of my leg, but free of the lamprey’s clutch.
Bart howled with delight, tail wagging as I hauled myself onto the raft. He licked my face. I scratched behind his wet ears.
As Lake Erie glimmered with streaks of blue lightning, another shadow circled beneath. Bart huddled into my arms. We braced for impact.
ABOUT THE AUTHOR
Wow! Perfect for a Thriller Thursday! So cool that you mentioned Johnson’s Island. My in-laws had a cottage near the Confederate cemetery, and we spent many weekends looking at the gravestones and walking around the island. It’s a neat part of history that many people are unaware of.
Thanks for the great story and I hope the guy and his dog make it!
Great story and very intriguing! Kept me on my toes the whole time!
Very cool to set a sea monster story in Lake Erie. Lamprey is an interesting choice, but it works well.
Loved it, what a thriller. A sea beast in Lake Erie, who would have thought.
The unknown lake Erie monster returns. Fantastic storyline
Had me on the edge of my seat! Loved the good boy, Bart. :)
Very suspenseful!
I live near Lake Erie so this one really creeped me out – in the best possible way!
Ahh! And then what happened? Great story