Demon Lake: A Short Story

Words: 1914
Pages: 8

The events on Siwa Lake, which later would be known as Demon Lake, began mid-March when a sheepherder discovered the decaying corpses of two men on its eastern shore. Their charter boat left the dock early the previous morning but did not return as scheduled that evening. After conducting a thorough three-day search of the lake, the local authorities failed to turn up any signs of the boat or floating debris. An autopsy suggested the bodies were frozen then thawed before decomposing. This was baffling, because the lake’s temperature rarely deviated more than five degrees from its annual mean temperature of 25 degrees Celsius [77 degrees Fahrenheit].
Two months later, another boat disappeared, and its passengers, a man and a woman, were
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I guess that’s it, but . . .”
Ignoring him, Sam dangled a multi-measurement probe in the water to measure pH, salinity, conductivity, and temperature. He checked the battery levels, zeroed the readout device, and ran through its self-checking program.
Nasr shrugged and picked up the clipboard. Drumming his fingers, Nasr checked his watch. “The damn thing is sure slow this morning.”
Sam’s face contorted, but he did not look up. The device beeped, and the readout flashed on. “You won’t believe this, Chief, but the temperature readout is minus 18 degrees Celsius [0 degrees Fahrenheit]. That’s freaking cold – we should be surrounded by ice or sitting on an iceberg.”
Nasr shook his head. “The temperature can’t be right. Check it again.”
A wind stirred up whitecaps, and the boat tossed about. Sam started the engine, and leaning hard on the tiller, he repositioned the boat, pointing into the wind.
Sam frowned but reset the probe for another measurement. Three minutes later, the device beeped. “The temp still reads minus
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Water splashed on the oarlock pins, and they froze solid. Sam pulled and yanked on the oars, but they would not budge. He cursed. He pounded the oars with his clenched fist.
“What’s happenin’, Chief? Do you feel it? Can you hear it? The water’s vibratin’, and everythin’ freezing up. There’s no ice floatin’ in the water, but ice’s crawlin’ up the oars and the sides of the boat like it’s alive or somethin’.”
As the intensity of the sound increased, the surface of the lake pulsated, and a mist rose above the water, engulfed the boat, freezing on everything it touched. Nasr looked about the metal boat, searching for something, anything he could use against the advancing ice. He found nothing. He cleared his throat, his mouth was bone dry. “I don’t understand. The air’s too warm for ice, but it’s all over the