Fossil Lake: An Anthology of the Aberrant

by Ramsey Campbell

  Lana rushed to the edge, but his head was gone, eaten by the abyss of Fossil Lake. Not good. She had to get it back and put it in the other place. The secret place that no one knew about.

  “Sheeeeeeeiiiiiiit, that head sunk like a rock,” said a burbling voice. “Nice work, butterfingers.”

  Lana jolted, and looked all around. All she saw was the forest, the lake and dusk. No lights, no people. Cold sweat burst on her brow and her stomach dropped. Had she been caught? And by who? She looked around again. Still saw nothing.

  “Down here, toots,” the voice said.

  And Lana looked down and saw the ugliest fucking creature she’d ever seen.

  Small and bulbous and scaly, the frog squatted in perfect frog pose between her feet, right in front of her and looking up her skirt.

  “Nice,” he said.

  His throat throbbed and his pulsing fire-red eyes looked her up and down. Spiky horns protruded from random places on his head and body. Lana didn’t know if frogs were supposed to have dicks, but this thing in front of her had a fat lumpy one, all chunky white and green. He looked like an acid trip concoction of frog, dragon, and porcupine. While she wanted to look away, she couldn’t help but stare at his little froggy dick. Pus-colored saliva dripped from one corner of his mouth as his flaming peepers bored into Lana’s eyes. Even in the dusk, his eyes lit like dancing candles flames. The kind you’d see at a cult sacrifice.

  “Don’t stare, bitch, it’s rude,” the frog said. His lips somehow twisted into a crude grin, teeth looking like a grenade blew up in his mouth.

  Her jaw fell open. Lana gaped at the frog, entranced not only by his ability to talk, but by his sheer ugliness.

  “You dropped that head, toots. You want it back?”

  She knew she couldn’t just leave it in the lake; someone would find it for sure. She had to put it with the others.

  “Yeah,” she stuttered when she could speak. “Can you get it for me?”

  “I’d be happy to,” the frog said. “You’ve done so much for me. I guess it’s only fair that I fix this for you.”

  Again, she had no words.

  “Don’t look so stupid. I’ll explain it all when I get back. But here’s the deal. I do this for you, and you owe me.”

  She wanted to kick the frog, punt him straight into Fossil Lake too, but she couldn’t.

  “Calm down, bitch,” he said.

  Now she found words. “Call me bitch one more time and I’ll stomp your spiky toad ass.”

  “I’m a frog, don’t get it twisted!” He paused. “I’m sorry, I’m not used to conversating. Didn’t mean to piss you off.”

  “My name’s Lana.”

  “Let me get that head, then, Lana, and we’ll talk. But first, the deal.”

  “And what’s the deal, you froggy prick? It’s like you forget that I can kill you and get that head myself.”

  “Don’t underestimate me, bit… beautiful lady,” he said.

  Lana smiled. “Better. What’s the deal?”

  “That water is nipple-freezing cold. It makes my horns even harder. Might shrink my… well, whatever, don’t judge me. You don’t wanna go in there. I’ll get this for you and then you’ll owe me.”

  “Owe you what?”

  “Your company, some food, a place to stay, and maybe even a kiss.”

  She cringed. But the frog was right, she needed that head.

  “We’ll see,” she said. “Don’t push your luck. Go get it and we’ll talk.”

  His red eyes flared. He turned, splashed through the water and dove deep. Lana waited, sipping a beer and smoking a cigarette. The frog was gone a long time, but eventually, he broke the surface with a big tangle of Bart’s hair clamped between his crooked teeth. He hopped up the bank, dragging the head. Lana stepped forward and grabbed it.

  “Got him,” the frog said. “Fucker had a heavy head.”

  Lana set it snug against some driftwood so that it couldn’t roll back into the water. “I don’t know how,” she said. “There couldn’t have been much in it.”

  “Brains and heads, regardless of how well they are educated, generally weigh the same.”

  “Oh, so now you got jokes? Lana asked.

  “I’m just glad you’re finally getting them, bi… beautiful.”

  “I don’t know what the fuck is going on here.” Lana said, sitting on a rock. “I’m so confused.”

  “Give me a beer and a smoke and I’ll give you the skinny.” His fire-red eyes looked her up and down. “Looks like you could use a little skinny,” he added.

  Lana ignored him.

  “Hey,” the frog said, “I just did you a huge favor toots, and we agreed to a deal. Beer and cigarette please.”

  “And just how the fuck am I supposed to give you a beer and a cigarette?” Lana asked.

  “Jesus, we gotta smarten you up,” he said. “Pour the beer in that divot in the rock and light the smoke and wedge it right there.”

  She did.

  The frog took a big slurp of beer, then hopped over to the burning cigarette and took a mighty puff. When he exhaled, some of the smoke billowed through his amphibian skin.

  “Nice,” he said. “Now let’s get down to business.”

  “Thanks for getting that head, I appreciate it. So what happens now?”

  “First, I thank you, too,” the frog said. “I pretty much owe you my life.”

  “I don’t understand,” Lana asked, puzzled. “And what’s your name anyway? That would make my life a lot easier. I’m still not even sure this is real.”

  “My name is Lucky,” the frog said.

  “Lucky?”

  “Did I stutter, bi- Lana? That’s my name, and actually it’s completely justified. I’ve been lucky to live at this lake. I’ve lived at a lot of lakes and never been as lucky as I’ve been here.”

  “What do you mean?”

  Lucky rolled his eyes, drank from the pool of beer, hopped over, and hit the cigarette.

  “You’ve made me Lucky, Lana. I’ve been a frog for a long time. A lot longer than most frogs. They usually die, a lot of them from starvation. Do you have any idea why I’m this fat?”

  “No?”

  “From the heads you hide,” Lucky said. “Do you know what human heads attract as they decompose?

  “Flies?”

  “Any idea what my favorite food is?”

  “Flies?”

  “Pretty much,” Lucky said. ““Other bugs too, but the flies are my favorite Especially corpse flies. Greedy, bloated corpse flies. Fat and lazy and full of all kinds of juices. Delicious.” Lucky licked his lips. “When you dump a head, the flies swarm, and I eat big and easy all day long. So thank you, Lana.”

  “That’s fucking disgusting,” Lana said.

  “Uh, you’re the one that kills people,” Lucky fired back. “I just feed off of that.”

  She nodded, sipped her beer, and stared at the fat horny frog named Lucky that twitched in front of her. “So what’s our deal, fatass?” she asked.

  “Easy, bitch, I’m sensitive about my weight. I can’t help it that you’ve killed so many people it’s like I eat at Golden Corral every single meal. Have you ever considered moderation?”

  “Have you?”

  “Fuck off. Let’s put all this shit aside and talk about what we can do for each other. You’ve fed me and made me fat and happy for a long time now; I appreciate it. Have the cops ever found a piece of a head you’ve left over here?”

  “I don’t think so,” Lana said.

  “And that’s because as a thank you for you feeding me so well, I make the skulls disappear. You turn down the attitude a couple clicks, and maybe we can help each other out.” Lucky drank and then smoked, hopped around a little bit, and looked up at Lana.

  “What do you want?” she asked.

  “I want a partner,” Lucky said.

  “I don’t care what we’ve done for each other, I’m not letting your lumpy dick anywhere near me!”

  �
�If I was a poison dart frog, I’d blast one right in your eye,” Lucky said. “That was hurtful.”

  “Look, I’ll admit, I’m a little crazy, but I draw the line dark and thick well before frog fucking.”

  Lucky rolled his flaring red eyes. “I’m not actually a frog.”

  “Well then …”

  “And I’m not a toad either, before your smart ass says it,” he cut her off.

  Lana puffed out the smoke and her cheeks before taking a sip of her beer. “Okay, you fat lumpy-dicked asshole, thanks for getting that head, and you’re welcome for the smorgasbord of meals I’ve unknowingly provided you with. Maybe I’ll even stop by the pet store and staple a baggie of live crickets to the next guy’s forehead.”

  “Don’t condescend me; I don’t need pet store crickets,” Lucky said. “We had a deal. If this is how it’s gonna be, I’ll just show up at your house. We can settle things then.”

  “Good luck finding out where I live, you fucking toad.” She stood up. “Thanks again for getting that head. Eat, sleep and be merry. I’ll be back to make sure that it’s gone before anyone can find it.”

  “Fine, bitch,” Lucky slapped his tongue out, hitting her ankles. “But I have a feeling we’ll be seeing each other soon. And shave those things, would ya? That stubble is disgusting.”

  “I just … You know what? Fuck you,” Lana said, and she turned to go.

  * * *

  When she got home, the paranoia set in like it always did.

  As she settled into bed, she tried to push away the strange experience with Lucky and regain the calm that helped her sleep at night. Just as her hand began to help her relax, a noise at her window startled her.

  It wasn’t a knocking – more of a splashing. She turned on her lamp to see bits of blood splattered on her window.

  “What the…!”

  Grabbing a knife out of her nightstand and running to the window, she shoved it up. Out in the yard was Bart’s head, with Lucky crouched on top, the frog’s toes dipping into the pulpy remnants of Bart’s severed neck and his frog legs flicking Bart’s blood onto Lana’s window.

  With the window up, the next splat hit Lana in the face.

  “Told you we’d be seeing each other, bitch!” Lucky yelled, loud and high enough to shatter glass.

  Lana ran outside, scooped up Lucky by the legs and Bart by the hair, and pulled them into her kitchen.

  “Finally!” Lucky said.

  “How the hell did you get here? What the hell are you doing?” Lana demanded, dumping the head into the sink.

  He gestured to some bloated black flies lying dead in Bart’s neck stump. “Nabbed a few flies for you, too. I’ll have a sandwich. Got any bread?”

  “You fucking frog!”

  “We had a deal. I got you the head, and now you owe me. You have to help me.”

  Raging red, Lana struggled to think things through. Bart’s head in her sink, and his blood on her window, would certainly not be good when the cops showed up. And they would show up, if her neighbors heard Lucky’s shriek.

  “How am I supposed to help you?” she cried. “If you haven’t noticed, you brought me quite a mess to clean up!”

  “Doesn’t matter,” Lucky said, nonchalant. “We’re not sticking around. Let’s go.”

  Lana crossed her arms. “Where are we going?”

  “You kiss me, I’ll turn into a prince, and we’ll go get married,” Lucky said.

  “Just like the story?”

  “God, you can’t fucking tell when I’m joking. Life’s not a fairytale, princess. Let’s go. You have to drive. My legs aren’t long enough. And don’t forget that sandwich.”

  Lana hesitated, but realized he was right. They had to move. Her, Lucky and Bart’s head had to get gone.

  She grabbed her keys and followed Lucky to her car. He hopped as fast as she could walk. As soon as she opened the door, he hopped into the passenger seat. Lana got in and put Bart’s head on the seat beside the frog.

  “Where to?” she asked

  “Back to the swamp, dummy,” Lucky ordered, then cleared his throat.

  “I hate you,” Lana said and put the hastily-slapped-together fly sandwich on the seat in front of him.

  “Thanks, bitch,” Lucky said, his crooked, pointed teeth twitching. He smacked his lips, munching and moaning in gluttonous pleasure. “Not bad, not bad at all. So…” He croaked, paused, burped, then added, “what’d these suckers do that pissed you off anyway? Call you fat? Try to rape you?”

  Lana sighed. She’d been trying to contemplate her options while he ate, but he’d finished the sandwich in three bites.

  “Truth told, I see the fat thing,” he went on. “I really do, and you make a hell of a sandwich, you really do, and looks like you enjoy your own food. Rape thing though? I don’t really get that.” He eyed her up and down, then stopped, fixed on her boobs. “Well, maybe, but probably not sober.”

  Lana sighed again, “I only weigh…”

  Then she stopped. Even though she wasn’t that heavy, logic would never work on Lucky. She just wanted him to go away. So she tried to explain how the guys had used her. How she knew their intentions. How the murder, the decapitation, became her crusade –

  She was interrupted by Lucky’s coarse, maniacal laughter.

  “You bitches,” he gasped, trying to catch his breath. “You bitches really want a fairytale, don’t you?”

  Lana huffed, angry. Blinked tears. Her flushed cheeks only provoked the frog further.

  “Poor Lana,” Lucky mocked. “All the guys just want to fuck you. OF COURSE THEY DO, even with that little weight problem, THEY’RE STILL MEN.” He laughed again. “If you don’t want to be used for sex then don’t fuck them! Or be a crack snacker. Guys can’t use you if you don’t let them. A bad murdering bitch like you? They don’t have a chance anyway. What, you’re waiting for a frog to turn into a prince and save you? C’mon, baby. Gimme a smooch!”

  He hopped onto her lap and she swerved, shoving him back into his seat.

  “Asshole!” she screamed, easing the car back into her lane.

  “Yeah, I’m the asshole? Because I killed guys who acted like … guys? Good one princess.”

  She eased the car back into her lane. Then she took a hard turn that lead them to the pebble road heading to Fossil Lake. Her headlights illuminated the dark water.

  “What are we doing here?” Lana asked, slamming the brakes at the edge of the trees surrounding the swamp. She hit them so hard Bart’s head rolled to the floor boards, making a wet plop as it landed.

  “We had a deal, and you’re out of luck. Help me and I’ll help you.” Lucky made a kiss face with his disfigured lips. More of that pus colored drool trickled from the corner of his mouth. Then he bounded from the car and darted toward the water.

  Lana snagged Bart by the hair and chased after Lucky. “What do I have to do? How can you help me?”

  “I told you, kiss me and I’ll turn into a prince and save you. I’ll get you out of this!”

  She started to roll her eyes, but heard sirens in the distance.

  “What the hell! Did you call the cops?”

  “Yeah, on my cell phone; it’s a Cricket.” Lucky uttered a sarcastic croak.

  If they tracked her out here, where there was nothing except Lana, a talking frog, and whole bunch of human heads … She took a quick survey of her surroundings. The secret place with the heads was sort of tucked away, but nothing a few dogs wouldn’t be able to sniff out. There was still a small trail of blood from the path, too, where she’d carried Bart’s head earlier. Beer cans and cigarette butts, littered with her DNA, were all over the area.

  And the cops were coming. The sirens were closer, and louder.

  “Then what are we doing here?” she demanded. “Did you bring me here to get busted?”

  “I told you. Kissing me is your only way out of this mess.”

  Lana inhaled deep and fast, air hissing through her teeth. The lights from the police c
ars flashed blue and red through the trees, but what the hell could this frog do to save her?

  There was only one way to find out.

  She picked up Lucky. He was fat and heavy, and weighed about as much as Bart’s head, hanging in her other hand. Lana shuddered at the comparison. She felt Lucky’s lumpy frog dick growing harder against her palm and fought down a dry heave.

  She coughed, looked away. She looked at the lake, the woods pitch dark, but flickering with the lights of approaching trouble. Then she looked down at Lucky in all his disgusting horny glory, wondering how he could possibly help her, but inexplicably believing him. He blinked, and in that moment she thought that while he may not be cute, he might have something to offer.

  Lana closed her eyes and leaned in. She could smell him. He smelled disgusting, like decay and flies and stagnant water. Instead of warmth, she sensed a wet coldness as their lips approached … then touched for a second.

  It wasn’t entirely unpleasant, but, just as she was about to pull away, Lucky shot his tongue into her mouth. The sticky part grabbed and pulled at her tongue while his lips moved against hers. She tried to break away, but she couldn’t.

  Finally, moaning, the frog unlatched his tongue from hers. His eyes rolled back in his head for a split second, then came back. He winked at her before leaping from her hand and landing softly in the grass, his ugly face grinning.

  Lana stared, horrified, spitting, trying to get that taste out of her mouth. She realized that Lucky has also left her hand full of goo.

  That moan, that wink, that hard, lumpy dick!

  She tried to scream and vomit at the same time, wiping her hand on her pajamas. She fell to her knees, retching, and saw Bart’s dead eyes still looking up at her.

  Lucky laughed like a mental patient.

  “I wish I really did have a Cricket to record this on, bitch. This is the best of the best.”

  She couldn’t answer, she just kept dry heaving.

  “And you know what the best part is?”

  No answer.

  “I didn’t need any stupid fucking froggy cell phone. You saw that blood I splashed on your window? You really think that’s all I can do?” Lucky flicked his tongue. “You dumb bitch.”