Fossil Lake: An Anthology of the Aberrant

by Ramsey Campbell

  “Is that so much to ask? After all that Mother’s done for you?”

  Grendel’s guilt-tripping mother …

  “That sounds reasonable enough,” I said.

  Mira glided toward me, leaving a groove in passing in the bone-meal sand. She turned her head, presenting a finely-fishscaled cheek.

  Just like duty-kissing a weird old auntie. Nothing big.

  I puckered up and gave her a quick peck. Her skin was cold. I tasted salt on my lips. Salt?

  Before I could pull back, a gush of water filled my mouth. Like her skin, it was salty and cold. It flooded in, choking and gagging me. I pushed away, falling backwards in the sand, vomiting up silty greenish water in heaving gasps.

  She gave me a scolding, disappointed look. “You resisted my affection. That makes me unhappy, Theo. That makes Mother very unhappy. My children need another brother, a strong and handsome brother like you.”

  “Children?” I coughed out another lungful, my eyes watering and nose burning from the acidic fluid.

  “All who come here are my children,” she said, gesturing around. “So many children in the past, each a treasure upon which I showered my love. But then they’d grow up and turn from me, from their own dear Mother. They’d want to go away forever.”

  I glanced again at the bones embedded in the cave walls. Gnawed and scattered, she’d said.

  “So you ate them, to keep them with you?”

  “Consumed them with the sorrow of a mother’s sacrifice.” She heaved a watery, mournful breath. “Now Mother has only two … a useless worm and a wicked girl. Not a fine, strong, handsome son like you.”

  “I’m not your son.” The long knife appeared in my hand and was slapped away almost as fast, a stinging blow as something hard and scaly smacked it from my grasp.

  “Tut. Tut. No weapons, young man!”

  But the touch of the blade had shattered her illusion. I saw her as she truly was. A long serpentine body stretched back to the lake, following the groove in the sand. Thick scales covered her torso. Dozens of tentacles sprouted from her shoulders, ending in sharp claws.

  Bernie, what the fuck were you thinking? No violence, my ass!

  “Mother will have to punish you for this impertinence,” she gurgled, through a mouth now more suited to a large eel.

  “Good luck with that,” I said, still backpedaling, groping for anything I could use to defend myself while scanning frantically for the knife.

  “Join my family,” she said, undulating closer. “In time, others will come along. Perhaps a bride for you. Mother would love grandchildren. Strong and healthy and loving.”

  “That’s not happening.”

  “Disobedient boy!” More of the massive, tentacled body flowed out of the water, growing thicker and thicker with each revealed foot. A phosphorescent glow throbbed from some large mass submerged in the lake.

  What the fuck is beneath the water? Sand slipped under my heels as I scrambled backwards. A dizzying nausea threatened to spill more of my stomach onto the floor.

  My hand fell on the kit, almost empty now except for the leather pouch.

  Restorative juju, Bernie said. For her, I’m betting. I thrust my hand in, wrapping my fingers around the leather bag just as her cold, fishy tendrils wrapped around me.

  “Come to Mother!”

  She lifted me into the air.

  “Go to hell!” I tossed the pouch past her. The tie unraveled, spilling out tiny metallic shavings that scattered across the surface like rain drops. Please let this work.

  Smoke billowed up from the lake, a swirling cloud that hung on the surface. Her shriek echoed off the walls as she convulsed, squeezing me with a sudden force, expelling the last of my breath and the choking water. Then I went tumbling end over end, hitting the beach, skidding into the rock-and-bone wall, shattering the miner’s lamp.

  In the darkness, I heard her wail and splash, spitting out words in an unknown, guttural language. Then the noise faded away, leaving only the soft sounds of diminishing ripples lapping on the lake shore.

  Well, that job’s done, I thought, letting my aching head sink onto my crossed arms. Guess they’ll find my bones some day.

  * * *

  “Get your ass up, boy,” said a familiar, gruff voice.

  Bernie?

  I squinted at sunlight streaming through blinds, blinking rapidly at the sudden intrusion. Sunlight … blinds … a window … a motel room … and a wizened gnome at the bedside, giving me the hairy eyeball.

  “What the hell?” I rubbed my face. “How did I get here?”

  “Marcus and Steve found you in the van,” he said. “Soaked to the bone, bruised as hell, but alive. I’m guessing that you took a wrong turn. You never could follow directions.”

  Something about this didn’t add up, but I latched onto the last part. “That map of yours was shit,” I said.

  “No it wasn’t.”

  “It was. And no wonder you packed all that extra crap. Could have goddamn warned me.”

  “You took care of the pouch?”

  “It’s deep-sixed, along with whatever lurked in that damn lake.”

  He grunted with satisfaction. “Good. That’s been a bother forever. Did you find anyone else?”

  “Her children. I think.” The thought brought back more disturbing memories.

  “Captives, not children,” Bernie said. “She lured the unwary to serve her. I guess they hauled you out as thanks for freeing them, and then disappeared.”

  I wasn’t too sure about that, but what other explanation could there be? I’d gotten from that bone-embedded cave to the van somehow, after all.

  “Now what?” I asked.

  “We’re done.” Bernie grinned at me. “The cave collapsed, we got paid twice, and everyone’s happy.”

  Everyone? I let it go for now. “What do you mean, paid twice?”

  “I’ll explain on the way home.” He pointed toward the motel bathroom. “After you take a shower. You smell like the dank.”

  DARK OF MADNESS

  Tanya Nehmelman

  The dark can be damning. You never know what’s hiding within it. The senses are heightened. Every little noise, creak and crack sends shivers, tingling down the spine. Every moving shadow plays a horrific image in the mind. Maybe if the guilt didn’t linger, the darkness wouldn’t be so bad.

  The wind howls, and you hear her whisper, “Why? I did everything for you.” Those were her last words. Why did you do it? The question dwells in your mind. You lost it for a second, but a second was all it took. After all, you did it with a smile, didn’t you? Didn’t you? So why is it bothering you now?

  Was it the way the tears rolled down her cheeks? The way she begged for your pity? Or the simple fact that she just plain trusted you? No, it’s not any of that, is it? You’ve wanted her dead for a long time now, ever since you were children. Haven’t you?

  You dressed like her, acted like her, and wanted to be her. Somewhere in your small mind, you believed you’d grow up to be her, didn’t you? Even as adults, you tried to be her. But when everyone continued to praise her, and not you, that’s when you snapped, wasn’t it? With her out of the picture, you are free to be her. Isn’t that right? So what’s the problem?

  Darkness surrounds you. Strange sounds of the night buzz in your ears. Her body is gone. You made sure of that, didn’t you? Of course you did. You tied the sack of bricks firmly around her ankles, and knocked her body off the pier. Then you stood over, watching, glug, glug, glug, as the body sank. She’s with Papa now. This was his secret fishing spot, and every time he brought you girls out here, he warned you to stay away from the brim. He claimed it was so deep, that if you fell in, he’d never be able to find you. So why are you on edge? There is no way she’s slinking out in the darkness now, is there?

  Your heart bangs in your chest in that ridiculously fast manner now. What’s that, you hear footfalls in the distance? Nah, it’s just another sound of the night. So you tell yourself. Why
are your hands shaking? You damn well know if this would’ve been the other way around, her hands wouldn’t be shaking. This angers you, doesn’t it? Even with her gone, you can’t be her. Maybe it’s because she’s not gone. She’s out there in the dark, watching, waiting.

  Was that a scream, echoing out in the distance? There it is again. Wait, that’s not screaming. It’s just a loon. You’re losing it, aren’t you? A small, senseless thing like murder and you can barely keep your pants dry, can you? You’re pathetic.

  Your heart is racing again. Are those beads of sweat I detect on your brow? Why, sure they are. And you thought this was going to be easy, didn’t you? Of course you did. You didn’t seem to have a problem with it, when you wrapped your fingers around her scrawny neck, did you? She spotted the burlap sack of bricks at the end of the pier, and turned to question you. That was your chance. You pounced on her, taking her by complete surprise.

  You actually liked it at the time. The way her eyes bulged from their sockets, the blue tinting her lips as she tried to gasp for air, and way the vessels broke in her eyes, pooling them red. When her body fell limp in your arms, ecstasy swept over you, didn’t it? You let her body plop to the boards, and kicked her with your foot, making sure she was out.

  To think, that was your own sister, your flesh and blood. I’d hate to know what you would do to a stranger who crossed your path. Using, your own hands, not even a weapon, to squeeze the life out of her. You didn’t feel guilty then, so why the change of heart?

  Click clack click clack click clack ... The sweat tickles, as it dribbles down your face. You don’t dare move to touch it. Someone’s coming, and it sounds like they’re wearing heels. Wasn’t your sister wearing heels, when you heaved her body into that cold, murky darkness?

  Was your chest hitching with that last breath, you took? It is! What, are you gonna cry? Worse, are you gonna piss yourself? Man up already. What can this broad possibly do to you, you big bad sister killer? That’s right, you weren’t even sure if she was dead, when you shoved her defenseless body into the abyss, were you? So it could be her, lurking out in the darkness, seeking revenge. Revenge against a sister she assumed loved her. After all, you were an expert at faking that, weren’t you? How else would you have gained her trust enough to get her here, alone, out in the middle of nowhere?

  That’s right, you’re in the middle of nowhere, so who else could be clacking about out here, besides her? You can picture her now, can’t you? Her clothes sopping wet, and clinging to her perfect body, that long blonde hair matted to her face. Her skin sagging, and wrinkled from waterlog, and her bright red eyes glaring, looking for you!

  But that’s the kind of stuff that only happens in movies, right? So there’s nothing for you to worry about. Click clack click clack click clack ... except for that, of course. Who could possibly be out here, in the middle of nowhere, with you, right now? Maybe it’s the devil himself, coming to claim your wicked soul.

  Nightly insects buzz, and you’re crouched behind a tree. Your breathing has picked up. You place a hand over your mouth to stifle the sound of your breath escaping your slightly parted lips. Your entire body trembles, as loud puffs of air withdrawal through your nostrils.

  Click clack click clack click clack ... it’s getting closer. Your heart frantically raps on your chest, it feels like its trying to escape its bony prison. Why oh why did you push her in, without getting the keys from her pocket first? Now you’re trapped, out here, all alone. Click clack click clack click clack ... except for who ever that is, stalking about the night. There’s one word for your situation, isn’t there? Karma.

  Ah, yes, karma. The one word you liked to throw around, isn’t it? “Karma,” you’d say with a sinister smile. You didn’t much believe in it yourself, did you? You just liked to throw it in everybody else’s face, like it was a curse. Well, you God damn hypocrite, KARMA!

  Your chest is hitching much, much faster now. It reminds you of something, your sister’s did the same, as she couldn’t stop the life from escaping her. You close your eyes, as your lungs fill with pain, unable to suck in enough oxygen, in your panicked state. Is this what she felt like, before she fell limp in your arms?

  Click clack squish click clack squish click clack squish, the sound is so loud, it has to be right next to you. Is that a fishy odor in the air? You don’t want to open your eyes, to see her standing over you, her sagging swollen face, in yours?

  But you can’t resist can you? Even though your heart feels as if it’s going to jump right out of you chest, you open your eyes. You gasp, choking on your own breath, although you see nothing, but darkness, and the silhouettes of trees. Yet that strong fishy odor hangs, heavy in the air. She has to be out there. Watching, tormenting you, payback for unsuccessfully killing her.

  You would think something like that, wouldn’t you? After all, you’d go after her if she tried, and failed to kill you, right? Crunch click clack squish. What was that? It’s right behind you! One hand on the rough tree bark, to balance yourself, you turn with a loud gulp.

  A strong whiff of fishy lake stench slaps you in the face. You see nothing but the darkness, and the sliver of the moon’s reflection on the water. Leaves wrestle to your left. Your head pivots. Click clack squish ... A large, wet, raccoon scurries by. Something shiny is clamped in its mouth. You let out a sigh of relief, and turn back towards the tree.

  There’s something on your neck! It’s leathery and damp. The pressure sends your heart into madness. There’s no way she can be alive! That was only a foolish thought you had, right?

  Full panic has swept over you. It’s ever so hard to breathe. You can’t move, paralyzed with fear. You just know, your dead sister’s hand is wrapped around your throat. Gagging chokes escape your lips. You try to force in air, but the grip is too tight. Overwhelmed with terror, you don’t even realize the warm, wetness seeping through your pants.

  You know, you really are pathetic, when you let the guilty voice in your head scare you to death.

  ALL THAT JAZZ

  Meagan Hightower

  Almost every night I stay up late, and I wonder … What if I’d tried harder? Sooner? Could I have changed what happened? Could I have avoided the sadness and heartbreak? And was it even possible or unavoidable to do so?

  I have no means of answering those questions. I can only guess, and sometimes even guessing is wrong.

  I remember the day she and I met. Back then I went by the name of Seth, and she called herself Ruby. She was dolled up in the latest trendy threads and hair style, and I can still recall the scent of her favorite perfume from all the time we spent together at that speakeasy in Fossil Lake.

  The summer of 1925, and how it changed my life.

  To this day I will never forget the way she used to dance with me when the jazz band played, and how we would always laugh over the silliest things over drinks.

  But then Nick had to start getting possessive over her for a reason we could never really understand. It’s things like that that really break my heart.

  It was one of the rare times I was off of work, so Ruby had invited me over to talk. She figured that with the band being in town, it would be the perfect time to talk without Nick noticing. Even though he rarely left the bar, he always gave me the evil eye when she spent time with me.

  For almost thirty minutes we cut a fine rug. Nick never stopped staring at us the entire time. It seemed like the more we danced, the more he had gotten angry. Though if I was in his place and some mac was dancing with my kitten, I would be just as angry.

  “I’ll order the drinks,” I told her when she picked a table far away from the bar.

  Once again I got the evil eye from Nick when I walked up to the bar. As usual, he was in his ugly suit and wearing his disgusting eau de toilette. His face was so fixed up in anger it didn’t seem like the face of the cool fake-loo artist gangster I worked for.

  “I’ll have two Bronxes.”

  “What are you doing with her?” Nick asked,
pouring.

  “Just dancing,” I said.

  “Stay away from my woman.”

  Nick placed the drinks on the bar. When he turned away, I took the drinks over to Ruby. From the look in his eye, I did not want to find out what he meant by those words. I’d rather be on the nut that have a belly full of lead poisoning. It would not surprise me if Nick was packing heat with an intent to harm.

  “I wish we could just blow this town,” Ruby said, sipping her Bronx lightly. “I told Nick that I’m not his woman. I am not a thing to own.”

  “Why don’t you and me go dust ourselves out of here? And see the world?” I whispered in her ear.

  “I’d love to. But how? Nick will blip us both for leaving.”

  And that was the thousand dollar question. How to leave Fossil Lake without my boss and her unwanted admirer finding out?

  I got into the business since I wanted a way to earn fast cash, and Ruby was at the wrong place at the wrong time. Ruby always did believe that I did carry a torch for her, and that in itself was a very dangerous love; I knew better but still couldn’t be helped.

  “I know the roads very well. He’ll never find us,” I said, with a strong surge of confidence. From driving the hooch routes, I knew I could leave without much of a trace. Only problem again was trying to get her out.

  “Really?” The tone of her voice was tense and excited, but she tried to not look overly ecstatic.

  We talked a little more at the table before finally deciding on the plan. Ruby was a little uneasy about it, but we both agreed that it was for the best if we left town and never came back. Anywhere we would go would surely be better than living in this dump. At least, that’s what I was hoping for.

  “Hey, Ruby-baby. Why don’t you lose the boob and be with a real man?”

  We looked up; sure enough it was Nick.

  “Go away,” Ruby said, frowning.