With quavering hands, he held out his flashlight-phone like a protective talisman. Another serpent popped up to his left, followed by two more behind him, and one more at the front. Milo gulped. I’m surrounded.
Another serpent slithered quickly up the side of the hull. Milo squealed, picked up one of his shoes and threw it at the snake with a THOCK. The slimy creature slurped back into the murky deep.
Milo squinted at the water, where he could just make out a large shadowy form below the surface. Those aren’t serpents, he realised. They’re tentacles! He was floating directly above a giant squid-like creature, whose arms were encircling his boat like a hand about to snatch an apple from a tree.
The puddle was halfway up Milo’s shins now, the boat barely staying afloat. He pulled the remaining oar out of its socket and wielded it as a weapon, jabbing at the closest tentacle. Lightning quick, it slithered up the paddle and slurped against Milo’s hand with an unsettling cold fishiness. Milo shrieked, lost his balance, and fell into the lake.
The good news was that the water was not as cold as he’d expected. That’s where the good news ended. Milo coughed and sputtered, choking each time his head dipped below the surface. He’d received swimming lessons from an ex-Navy Seal, but right now he couldn’t even remember how to float. Keeping a tight hold on his phone, he shook off his heavy overcoat, which drifted downwards, its sleeves flailing like a drowning man.
Something slimy caressed Milo’s bare foot. This is it, I’m a goner. And I’m going to die dressed as a politician. A wave of pitiful acceptance washed over him as he sank into the gloomy depths.
Straining to hold his breath, Milo opened his eyes and held out his illuminated smartphone. If he was going to be eaten alive, he wanted to see what would be digesting him. The torchlight filtered through the murk, providing a hazy glimpse of an immense creature unlike anything Milo had ever seen. At its rear were eight tentacles, each as long as the rowboat. Its front half was that of a hideous, primordial fish with jagged teeth the size of bowling pins. What is that Thing?
Above, Milo could hear the faint sound of a motor. Was someone else up there?
The octopodal monster swam closer, watching Milo with plate-sized orange eyes, its pupils horizontal black slits.
Nearly out of breath, Milo let out a bubbly scream.
Lightning fast, the Thing splayed its arms out in every direction, like a dark star. Its skin changed colour, alternating black, ivory and purple splotches that swirled hypnotically.
Mesmerised, Milo watched as the colour suddenly drained from the creature’s nose, down its torso and along its tentacles until its entire body was moon-white.
What in the ever-loving…
One by one, the Thing gathered its ivory tentacles at the top of its head and formed a two-pronged tree-like structure.
Are those … antlers? Milo was reminded of the stag they’d hit with their car that morning. Did this Thing eat the deer?
The motor above grew louder until it was almost deafening.
Is it going to eat me? Regaining his terror-stricken senses, Milo inhaled a mouthful of water as he struggled to swim to the surface, which seemed an eternity away.
Then he felt something soft and solid beneath his feet. Nudging him with its wide, flat nose, the Thing propelled him forcefully out into the night air with a SHPLOSHK!
Shuddering and coughing, Milo clung to the prow of his half-submerged boat, the buzz of the motor echoing around him. He searched desperately for the mysterious creature, but saw no sign of it.
A bright headlight shone in his eyes.
“Milo!” yelled his stepmother.
Silver-blonde ponytail flying, Kaitlyn sped her jet ski over to the sputtering boy. She slid to a stop, reached down and, with Pilates-honed strength, lifted her soggy stepson on to the back of the vehicle.
“What were you thinking?” she demanded. “Going out on the lake at night, all alone.” She was wearing a sparkly pink wetsuit. “Your father is going to FLIP HIS LID.” She smoothed Milo’s hair with her manicured hand. “When he called me, saying he’d lost your signal over the water…” She exhaled, hand on her chest.
My signal? So he really was tracking me… “I was j-just trying to get h-home,” Milo stammered through chattering teeth.
“Are you hurt?”
“I’m all right.” I think. “Did you s-see anything weird out here?”
“Weird? No.” She squeezed the water out her hair. “Not until I found you here, flopping around like a dying seal. Why?”
“I—” Milo stopped. Should he tell her? How would he even begin? “Nothing. Forget it.” Deep in thought, he wrapped his arms round her waist. “Let’s go home.”
Kaitlyn sped the jet ski towards the shore, leaving the ill-fated rowboat to sink into the depths, joining whatever else lurked below.
Turtle Boy
“Are you done yet?” Willow whined. “I’m booooored.” She lay upside down in her chair, her pigtails dangling on the threadbare blue carpet.
Lucy thumbed through a thick tome entitled, Signs, Designs and Crooked Lines: An Illustrated Guide to Symbology. Haphazard piles of books on linguistics and ancient mythology adorned the desk around her.
“Go read a picture book or something,” said Lucy.
“I’ve read them allllllll.”
They were waiting in the school library for their mother to finish grading so she could drive them home. For Lucy it was an opportunity to investigate.
Her battered notebook lay on the table before her, open to a page covered in drawings of the mysterious hieroglyphs she’d seen on the stone steps beneath the Nu Co. factory. One looked like a leaf with an arrow through it. One was a series of triangles with dots around them. Another resembled a lollipop.
According to Mr Fisher’s scientists, the glyphs meant: “Beware the Pretenders”.
