Chapter 1 - The lake was perfectly calm.That was the first thing Frank noticed that morning.
No wind.
No ripples.
Not even the gentle clicking of insects against the surface of the water.
The entire lake looked like a sheet of black glass stretched beneath a pale blue sky.
Frank Miller had been fishing on this lake for forty-two years, and he had never seen it this still.
He sat in his tiny aluminum boat with one boot planted against the floor and the other hanging over the side. His fishing rod rested comfortably in his right hand. In his left was a dented metal cup filled with coffee.
He took a slow sip.
Then he smiled.
“Best day of my life.”
Frank was sixty-eight years old, broad-shouldered, permanently sunburned, and had the stubborn expression of a man who had argued with life long enough to stop losing.
His white beard was trimmed badly because he cut it himself.
His fishing hat had a faded patch that read:
WORLD'S WORST DAD
His daughter had given it to him as a joke.
He had worn it for nine years.
The tiny boat rocked once.
Frank glanced down.
“Easy.”
The boat settled.
He looked toward the empty shoreline.
No hikers.
No children.
No couples taking selfies.
No jet skis.
No screaming tourists.
Just Frank, his rod, a bucket of worms, an old cooler, and his coffee.
He sighed happily.
“This is what retirement is supposed to look like.”
His fishing line disappeared into the dark water.
Frank waited.
A minute passed.
Then five.
Then ten.
Nothing.
He didn't care.
For Frank, fishing had never been about catching fish.
It was about having an excuse to sit somewhere nobody could ask him to fix anything.
His wife had been gone for six years.
His daughter lived three states away.
His son refused to answer his calls.
And Frank had reached an age when silence felt more valuable than company.
He leaned backward.
Closed his eyes.
And listened.
Nothing.
Then something moved beneath the boat.
Frank opened one eye.
He stared at the water.
The surface was still again.
“Hm.”
He waited.
Nothing.
Frank shrugged.
Probably a carp.
He returned to his coffee.
Then something bumped the bottom of the boat.
Hard.
THUNK.
Frank nearly dropped his cup.
He looked down.
“What the hell?”
The water remained completely motionless.
He stood.
The boat tilted dangerously.
“Sit down,” Frank muttered to himself.
Another hit.
THUNK!
This time the boat jumped beneath his boots.
Frank grabbed the side.
“Okay.”
He stared at the water.
“That's new.”
A long shadow moved underneath him.
Frank's face tightened.
The shadow was too large.
Far too large.
It passed beneath the boat from left to right.
Frank slowly lowered his fishing rod.
“What are you?”
The shadow disappeared.
For several seconds, nothing happened.
Frank waited.
Then his fishing line suddenly jerked.
He grabbed the rod.
“Oh, finally.”
He pulled.
The line went tight.
Something was pulling back.
Frank grinned.
“Well, hello.”
He planted both feet.
The rod bent.
Whatever was on the other end was strong.
Very strong.
Frank pulled harder.
The water began to churn.
“You picked the wrong old man.”
The line snapped.
Frank fell backward.
His fishing rod flew behind him.
“SON OF A—”
The lake exploded.
SPLASH!
A massive creature launched out of the water.
It flew nearly six feet into the air.
Frank froze.
The creature landed inside his boat.
CRASH!
Water sprayed everywhere.
The boat tilted.
Frank grabbed the edge.
Then he looked down.
The fish was enormous.
Its body was thick and muscular.
Its scales were dark gray with strange reddish streaks.
Its eyes bulged outward.
Its mouth opened.
Rows of crooked teeth appeared between its lips.
Frank stared.
The fish stared back.
They remained perfectly still.
One second.
Two.
Three.
Frank slowly lifted his coffee.
“That's not a fish.”
The creature blinked.
Frank blinked.
The fish slapped him across the face with its tail.
SMACK!
Frank's hat flew off.
He stood there stunned.
Then his expression changed.
“You did not just do that.”
The fish opened its mouth.
Frank pointed at it.
“I've buried men who hit less hard than that.”
The fish lunged.
Frank raised both arms.
The creature slammed into him.
They crashed against the side of the boat.
The aluminum buckled.
Frank shouted.
“GET OFF!”
The fish thrashed.
Frank grabbed it around the middle.
The fish whipped its tail.
WHACK!
Frank's glasses went flying.
“OW!”
He reached blindly.
The fish snapped at his hand.
Frank pulled away just in time.
Then he clenched his fist.
“You want to box?”
The fish stared at him.
Frank raised his guard.
“Fine.”
The fish charged.
Frank punched it directly between the eyes.
THUD!
The fish rolled sideways.
Frank stood over it.
“Stay down.”
The fish slowly lifted its head.
Frank's eyes narrowed.
“Oh, no.”
The creature opened its mouth.
And from deep inside its throat came a sound that made Frank's blood run cold.
It wasn't a growl.
It wasn't a hiss.
It almost sounded like a voice.
Frank stepped backward.
The fish whispered.
“Frank.”
Frank stopped breathing.
The world seemed to disappear.
He stared at the creature.
His face lost all color.
The fish blinked.
Then it slammed its tail against the side of the boat.
BANG!
Frank stumbled.
The creature lunged again.
But Frank wasn't thinking about fighting anymore.
He was thinking about one thing.
How did a fish know his name?
The boat rocked violently.
Frank looked toward the shoreline.
It was suddenly much farther away than before.
And beneath his boat, something enormous moved through the black water.
Something far larger than the fish.
Frank whispered:
“What did I bring up?”
May you like
Then the creature attacked again.
And the entire lake began to move.
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