From the Bottom

“The light is out in the lighthouse.”

“….again?”

“Yeah, probably just some kids, hard to get the Sherriff to care about anything off the mainland.”

“That seems like an awfully dangerous prank for some kids to be pulling.”

“You know there’s nothing to do here, still should only delay us by half a day.”

As he turned and walked away, Sailor gripped the railing of the ship tightly. Lights went out in lighthouses all the time – just not the same lighthouse within weeks. Something about it just didn’t seem right to her. You’re just on edge because the weather has been so unpredictable, the scientist within her reasoned.

“Don tell ya ‘bout the light?” Captain Sid wasn’t elderly, but he had a full white beard and a leathery face from years on the lake.

“Yeah, he seems to think it’s some kids.”

“It ain’t, but it also ain’t our problem. Coast Guard said it’ll be working by sunset so we’re heading out soon.”

“Thanks Sid, I’m going to grab some coffee from the market quick. Need anything?”

“No – say hi to Michelle for me.”

“Of course,” she smirked as she turned away. Sid was sweet on Michelle, but he was more comfortable on the lake in a November storm than he was talking to her.

Shore Market was two blocks away from the marina, up a steep, brick road.

Sailor had just moved to Private Point one month ago as a researcher aboard the Kiyi, and things had been off since her first day. Every step she took was haunted by the feeling that someone was watching her, and many times she had turned around to see the drapes in a window twitch back into place. She wasn’t easily alarmed but it wasn’t behavior she was used to, and it made it more difficult to go to the market. The city was as foreign to her now as it was when she’s arrived. Her new apartment was only a few city blocks away from the marina and she’d only explored the market and the lake so far.

It was summertime, but the weather had been gloomy ever since her arrival. Though the men she worked with swore up and down that it “wasn’t always this cold” she hadn’t seen any proof of that yet. Despite the unseasonably cold weather, the town square was overflowing with people, vendors and customers and children. The east side of the square was comprised of an open-air market and men and women were selling flowers, fruits, meat, beeswax candles, woolen blankets, organic herbs, home brewed mead, vegetables, and locally roasted coffee. Although most people stopped and looked up at her when she walked by, almost no one ever said anything; except Michelle. Though the vendors were willing to communicate with her, they were cool and formal, but Michelle was different. She was warm and seemed to understand Sailor’s discomfort and always picked her up some things to save her from going around herself.

“Hey there Sailor!” Michelle was always cheery.

“Hey.”

Michelle looked out of place on the overcast day, beaming and wearing bright yellow rain boots and several bright scarves, “such a shame about the lighthouse, huh?” Michelle started bagging up Sailor’s usual take, throwing in an extra bag of coffee.

“Mostly for the Coast Guard, they’re two weeks behind schedule now.”

“I suppose you and the crew will be off schedule now too.”

“Not terribly, we’re heading out soon after I get back down the hill.”

At that moment a box of maple syrup in glass jars fell heavily off a shelf in the back of the shop with a prolonged shattering and thick syrup spread from under the box like blood pooling beneath a deadly wound. Sailor and Michelle both stepped closer to the mess.

Sailor went to lift the box but Michelle, who recovered fairly quickly, gently grabbed her arm, “I can deal with this, you better get going.”

“Are you sure-?”

“Yes! You can’t be late, and I can certainly clean up a little spilled syrup. Go!”

“Okay, okay,” she left some cash on the table as she picked up her bags of produce and coffee. Michelle had her back turned and she was stooping over the mess.

Sailor walked along the east side of the market and down towards the marina, and as she did the already overcast sky turned an even darker shade of gray and the clouds started roiling. When she reached the bottom of the hill it had started raining big, cold raindrops and by the time she had reached the ship, it was pouring.

“What a damned day,” Sid jogged up and held his umbrella over them both. “Brew up some of that coffee and bring it up to the cockpit would ya?”

“Sure thing, Sid.”

The rest of the crew was already decked out in their yellow rain slicks, moving to and fro across the deck, checking lines and adjusting knots. There was a sense of defeat in the air, almost like they had all given up on the idea of even having a summer and had resigned themselves to the biting wind and needling rain. There was a constant metallic ringing sound coming from the lines swaying and hitting the side of the boat and there was a rhythmic snap coming from the flags flying above the cockpit. Heading below deck did nothing to improve the environment, it was almost pitch black and the cold had started to seep in from all sides, it also seemed to magnify the tossing of the ship and Sailor knew that as soon as they left the harbor she was going to need to move carefully. When she had secured the supplies she’d brought on board and the coffee was almost ready, she felt the ship motoring out of the slip and a sense of dread overcame her. It was deep in her gut and a primal sense of fear, the kind that she had no reason to feel. Shaking her head, she slipped into her raincoat and grabbed two mugs of coffee then made her way carefully up to the cockpit. When she resurfaced above deck, she was alarmed to see how quickly the weather had deteriorated. Deep, dark blue waves rose up from the lake and turned silvery as they broke through the surface. Flotsam roiled on the surface of the water, in the troughs of the waves. A northerly wind was blowing, cooling quickly as it moved across the lake. Fog hung close and wet, making the already humid conditions unbearable. She climbed into the cockpit carefully and handed Sid his coffee without a word.

They had been traveling for less than three hours, not making great time, when the radio started to crackle to life.

“Kiyi, Kiyi, Kiyi, this is Coast Guard over…”

“Kiyi here over.”

“Kiyi, what’s your location, over.”

“Hugging the East coast of Stockton Island, over.”

“We have a report of a seemingly abandoned vessel off the coast of Cat Island, would you be willing to check it out? We’re still hours out, over.”

“I suppose so, over.”

“Thanks Sid, we owe ya one, over.”

As Sid clicked off the radio, he grumbled a little, but Sailor could tell he was worried. A “seemingly abandoned” vessel in this weather wasn’t a good sign, and being the people sent to go check it out wasn’t ideal. “This day is gone to hell. Take the wheel Sailor, I’m gonna go find Don.”

A while later, Sid came stumping up the ladder with Don in tow, Sailor relinquished her white knuckled grip on the wheel to him. “We’re gonna get this done as quickly as possible and if we don’t find anything unusual, we’re gonna keep going.”

“And if we do find something?”

“We’ll deal with that if it happens,” Sid turned his steely gaze back towards to bow of the ship and start to change course for Cat Island.

They could see the boat long before they reached it which did nothing to allay their fears. The closer they got, the more apparent it was that this boat had put down anchor long before the storm had started. They hadn’t anchored anywhere sheltered and the boat was straining against the one ineffective anchor. It looked like a small fishing boat, and it was odd to see it out this far. Behind the fishing boat on the shore was the unmistakable silhouette of a campsite. Without a word, the crew started to prepare the dinghies and got ready to disembark their ship.

“Doug and Molly, you’ll stay on board and communicate with the Coast Guard. Steve and Don, you’ll take one dingy and check out that boat – be careful, you don’t know how long it’s been abandoned. The rest of you, we’ll head to the island and check things out,” Sid had a flare gun on one hip and a revolver on the other.

The beach was beautiful, even in the storm, with blackberries growing on the edge of the trees and white sand underneath, but it was clear not all was right on the island. There were two tents set up in whatever shelter they could find next to the trees without going in them. Whoever had been on the boat had spent at least one night in their campsite, there were ashes and beer cans in the freshly made firepit and the coolers had been used as seating. By the looks of it there had been four men in the camp, but they weren’t there now.

“Alright I’m not wastin’ any more time here, everyone split up and look around!” and at that the four of them on the island fanned out.

Sailor headed up the north side of the island, keeping an eye out for footprints, mechanically making her way through the sand dunes. She knew footprints were a long shot but she didn’t know what else to look for, people went missing on Lake Superior all the time, but not like this. Usually, it was an ice fisherman out by himself, walking back off the ice the wrong way and falling through – not during the height of summer. It was unlikely that all four men had drowned at the same… no one lived on the island… bears would have left plenty of evidence… Each logical idea was shot down in her thoughts as she worked through them.

The beach curved to the left up ahead and as she looked back, she realized if she kept going she would be out of sight of her ship and crew. The wind whipped the light loose hairs around her face as she turned back and kept going. The sand slid and sucked her boots with each step and she felt like she wasn’t going anywhere. The sound of a twig snapping in the trees to her left made her flinch, nothing more, the island was filled with wildlife after all. Trees loomed closer and thicker on her left as she reached the turning point on the beach. The wind picked up and with it came an unseasonable chill. Waves crashed against the shore and a fine mist blew against her face as she rounded the bend.

Then she saw it, on her left in the midst of the thick dark thicket of trees, was a path. Tilting her head, she analyzed what she was seeing; the trail looked like it had once been well worn and was now being reclaimed by nature, trees on either side leaned menacingly creating an arch and a darkness that seemed deep. This footpath was impossible. Maybe a deer path could be here, but not a footpath. This island had never been inhabited and there were no campsites or cabins. Her glance flicked between the trail and the way she had come, and she found herself heading towards the trees when her mind finally caught up. It was soft and muddy under foot and while the trees were an arm’s length away on either side, they loomed and pressed against her. What little light there was to begin with was became less and less with each step. Instead of growing louder, the sounds of the forest diminished until it seemed as if there was no sound at all except the gently crunching of her steps. Preoccupied with the path in front of her, Sailor didn’t notice the lack of sound until it had settled in around her. She looked ahead and noticed that the path turned to the right, farther away from where she had started. The trees grew thicker and closer here and light was completely choked out and the air was thick but cold. She didn’t know how far she had walked but she couldn’t see the way out of the forest behind her. When she took a few more steps into the heart of the forest, she sensed something in the path in front of her. Fumbling in her pocket, she felt for the flashlight she had brought with her, pulling it out of her pocket it slipped out of her shaking hand.

Kneeling down, she felt for the flashlight as the black figure in the path ahead of her began to move, causing dead leaves to skitter and the figure seemed to rise straight out of the ground as if on a string. As she flicked the flashlight on, she choked back a scream. The figure was one of the fishermen, face frozen in a scream and a jagged, bloody hole where his throat had been. The way his limbs jerked and his head rolled side to side, it was clear that he was dead, but Sailor watched as the body seemingly became reanimated. Once in a fully upright position, the corpse hung there while cold sweat poured down Sailor’s face and back.

Suddenly, the corpse was released and crumpled to the ground, revealing a dark, angular figure behind it. Catlike and slight, the figure had feminine qualities though it didn’t look human. The figure tilted it’s head, bared it’s teeth and Sailor gathered her nerves and turned and fled. An inhuman shriek came from the creature behind her, so she put her head down and ran faster. Instead of hearing footsteps running up behind her, she started to hear a rustling in the trees as if something was leaping from branch to branch. Her heart was in her throat as she raced against the creature in the trees. The sound of her steps was rushed and unsure while the pounding in the trees was rhythmic and gaining on her. When she finally spotted the beach up ahead, she ran harder and when she reached the edge of the trees, her foot caught a root she hadn’t noticed coming in and her usually sure feet were ripped out from underneath her. She fell forward and landed wrist deep in sand, then twisted herself away from the woods. She saw the thing on a tree at the edge of the path, one hand on the trunk, one on the branch below, leering. Sailor couldn’t look away as she drug herself backward, away. The thing dropped from the tree and landing on all fours, it slowly rose. Taking a step towards Sailor, a bang and a flash of light went off at it’s feet and with a sound that could only be described as a laugh, the thing slithered up a tree and disappeared.

Sid heaved Sailor to her feet with one hand while he held the flare gun in the other, and when they locked eyes, they stared at each other in silence for a few seconds.

“I reckon we should get the fuck off this island,” Sid’s normally gruff voice came out quiet.

“I ‘reckon’ you’re right.”

At that moment, the rest of the crew started shouting for the captain down the beach.

When Sid and Sailor reached the rest of the group, they saw that Don and Steve had finished on the boat and were standing on the beach, pale and haunted.

“Captain, you need to see what they have on that boat.”

Sid had told Sailor to come with him, but they hadn’t told anyone else what they had seen yet. The dinghy ride out to the fishing boat was quiet and tense and when Don held out his hand to help her onto the boat, she hesitated, but only for a split second. Don and Steve led them to the cockpit and over to the logbook.

“We came here first to determine how many men were on board and it looks like there were four; two charter fishermen and two clients,” Steve spoke quietly and slowly. “Then we started to go through whatever notes we could find, and we came across this…”

It looked like one of the men’s journal, probably the captain’s, and Steven opened it and handed it over to Sid. The entry was dated July 13th, the day before, and said:

Body found at 47.07°N, -90.5°W.

Motor issues, coasted into Cat Island Bay.

Radio down.

“’Body found’?” Sailor looked up at Steve, then Don who waved them over to the deck outside the cockpit.

“We weren’t really sure what that meant either, so we just kept looking through the boat. We found it in the fish hold while we were looking.”

“That’s lovely,” Sailor felt deep dread building, once again.

“Wait ‘til you see it,” and with that, Don led them all to the hatch in the deck that led to the fish hold. As they drew closer to the opening a creeping chill set in, starting at their feet and clawing up their legs, “Take a look.”

Sailor and Sid inched forwards through the cold and peered into the hold. The corpse made an odd sight indeed, the clothes were torn and deteriorated in some areas, and mussels had attached themselves in clumps on the shoulder and chest. The boots were mostly intact but the oddest part of all was the corpse itself was mostly intact. The skin wasn’t bloated or decayed, and its’ hair was still mostly there. This wouldn’t have been odd at all, of course, except that the clothing the corpse was wearing were about 120 years old. He was shoved into the hold at an odd angle and the skin was covered in frost.

“Obviously it’s frozen now, but how was it preserved before?” bodies from hundreds of years ago didn’t just retain their integrity and Sailor’s mind was reeling.

“They say that Lake Superior doesn’t give up her dead, the cold water causes bodies to sink right away, and then the freezing water on the bottom preserves them,” Don was leaning against the railing, eyes unfocused.

“But if they sink, how would this body have risen to the surface?”

“That’s the question, people don’t dive that far down and there hasn’t been a submarine in here since the 90s. Something would have had to dislodge it and drag it up to the surface, it also would have had to been found right away before it sank again,” Don looked at Sid, “there’s really no explanation for it.”

“Well we can’t tow this boat back so let’s haul this body over to our ship and dial the Coast Guard,” Sid stumped over to the railing, “Sailor you come with me.”

She made her way over to the dinghy with Sid and they made their way back to the Kiyi. Sailor went to speak but Sid quieted her with his eyes, “Wait ‘til we’re alone.”

In the cockpit, they discussed everything that had occurred, and Sailor told him everything he hadn’t seen in the woods. “I’ll be damned if these two things aren’t related, but we’re going to keep that creature story to ourselves for the time being.”

Sailor nodded fervently; she had no desire to recount that story again.

Sid crossed the cockpit and picked up the radio and switched it to channel 16, “Coast Guard, Coast Guard, Coast Guard, this is Kiyi, Kiyi, Kiyi on channel 16, over.”

“-Guard, ove-“ the channel was cut with static and the call had barely come through.

“Coast Guard, you’re cutting in and out, over.”

“Ki-,“ and the channel gave over to complete static. As Sid fiddled with the channels and continued to try to reach them, Sailor looked out of the cockpit and saw that the rest of the crew had just brought the corpse over from the fishing boat. She thought about the cryptic entry in the journal and wondered if there was any connection between the two.

A loud thump, caused her to jump and she turned to see Sid rubbing his hand as he told her what she already knew, “Radio’s down.”

“What now?”

“We’re heading back to harbor.”

For a split second, Sailor had a feeling that this was the wrong thing to do, but she quickly pushed it away.

As they headed back to the harbor, the sky grew darker, and fog hung thick over the unsettled water. The GPS and the radar were the only things keeping them on track, and shadows seemed to creep up on every side of the ship. They had put the corpse in a tarp and stowed it in the galley freezer as a deep silence began to settle onboard. The hours began to tick by as the ship swayed back and forth in the tossing lake. As night fell, and the lights on the ship were turned on, fog crept in and most of the crew was on deck as if they wanted to be as far away from the freezer as possible.

At the same time as Sailor heard a knocking from below deck, she heard Sid and Don talking anxiously and hurriedly.

“-‘damned light, ‘sposed to be goddamned fixed!” Sid was banging on the radar and the white of his beard created a stark contrast to his red-faced fury.

“What’s going on?!”

“The damn radar and the damn lighthouse are both out,” Sid grabbed a compass and the wheel, “we’re coming up on the harbor, but I can’t see worth a shit.”

When Sailor looked out the window, she saw that the fog covered everything, even the bow of the ship. There was no repeating light from the lighthouse which could be counted on even in the nights with the lowest visibility. There were lights at the entrance to the harbor, but they wouldn’t be able to see those until they were practically on top of them. Sid could guide them in with a compass and a radar, but with only a compass and nothing to use as a point of reference, even the most experienced sailor would be operating mostly on luck.

Just as she was praying for the best, the ship came to a shuddering, grating halt that threw her onto all fours as the ship beached itself on the sandbar between the public beach and the marina. Several of the crew shouted out and cursed but it was apparent that no one on deck was seriously hurt, just seriously shaken. She took in the situation as she clambered to her feet and saw Steve staggering up from below decks, looking disorientated and scared. She saw a wet glistening at his chest and watched as he collapsed at the top of the stairs. His fingers feebly clawed at the deck as the life ran from his eyes, out of his chest.

Ominous thudding steps came up from below and before anything came into view, a splashing started on all sides of the boat.

The corpse’s head came into view at the same time as the thudding on the sides of the boat began. Empty white eyes locked with hers as she began to see fleshy, dead hands grab the railings on all sides. Don rushed at the thing on the deck with a crowbar and Sailor watched as it blocked the swings and grabbed him by the hair. Don hadn’t phased the monster at all and it locked its jaws around his throat and ripped it out, creating the same jagged hole she’d seen on the fisherman on the island.

She screamed.

She watched as Don reached for his throat and gasped and gargled until he finally let out one final hiss of air. She fell back against the cabin wall as her eyes lost focus and her breath came in short bursts. Dead men climbed over the railings and started in on the crew, ripping and biting. Sid grabbed her and pushed her towards the bow of the ship, “JUMP!” he roared as he pulled out his revolver and started shooting, to no avail.

She was about to argue when Sid grabbed her and tossed her over the railing.

The fall wasn’t far, but the cold water knocked the air out of her lungs and her ankle had hit the edge of the deck, she felt it swelling, even in the icy water. The men left on deck were yelling and some screaming and as she started to backstroke towards the beach, the sound of Sid’s revolver stopped. She started to hear things swimming towards her as her feet finally hit the bottom. She flipped over and tried to gain her feet as the first frozen hand grazed her calf. She whimpered and began to limp as fast as she could without turning back. She reached the shore out of breath and chased by the steady splashing steps of the dead men.

The street running parallel to the beach was lined with houses and several of their lights were on, so with all the speed she could gather she limped to the closest one. Banging on the door she yelled, “Help me! Let me in! Please.”

To her horror, the lights in the house went out.

The shuffling steps behind her were growing closer as she reached the second house and she watched as this house turned its’ lights off too. She saw that the houses around her were slowly turning the lights out and she was eventually forced to start ascending the hill towards the market. She had her head down and was focused on the haunting sounds behind her when she collided with someone directly in front of her.

“Oooh!” Michelle looked startled and surprised to see her.

“Michelle! Run, we have to get out of here!”

“What are you talking about?”

“They’re right behind me! They’re –“ as she turned around she saw – nothing. “What? I just saw them… they were following me… everyone…”

“You look like you’ve seen a ghost! What’s going on? I was out on my deck and heard a commotion at the beach, so I was on my way to check it out, why aren’t you out on the lake?”

“I- the ship, it was beached….”

“Well, if that’s the case we should go down there and make sure everyone’s ok!” she grabbed Sailor’s hand and pulled her towards the beach, still in shock, Sailor followed. Michelle picked over her appearance and plied her for details of what had happened on the short walk down to the boardwalk by the beach. “We’ll have to go all the way to the end of the ‘walk to see anything,” Michelle was digging her fingers into Sailor’s wrist, whose senses were starting to come back.

“Michelle, we should be going to the police or the harbormaster first.”

“Oh no dear, not yet.”

“Michelle – you’re nails are digging into me, Michelle-“

“SHUT UP! You stupid girl!”

They came to a stop at the end of the old wooden boardwalk and Michelle whipped Sailor around to face her, “did you really think you’d get away?!”

“What are you talking about?”

“How do you think Private Point stays so prosperous without tourists or young people?”

“What are you talking about it?!”

“It’s blood! The Lake needs blood,” her face was transmuting into something dark. “It needs you,” with those words she grew into the awful, black catlike form from the island. The water off the edge of the dock was roiling and eventually several hands broke the surface and started to climb up the ladder. Sailor struggled to get away but the thing that used to be Michelle had supernatural strength and held her tightly until the men from the bottom of the lake grabbed her and began to drag her into the lake. Her nails dug into the wood and left bloody streaks as she broke her nails trying to hang on as long as she could. Her screams were earsplitting but ultimately, futile. She was slowly pulled down into the lake and ripped apart like they all were before her.

The next day dawned sunny and bright, with no sign of the Kiyi. The rain had scrubbed away any blood, washing it down into the lake.