The Girl in the Lake Read online

  There’s no reason for her to comfort me. I have it easy. I’m the next guardian of the lake, after my mother. Well, along with her, since she hasn’t come out to the water in years. Still, tears mix in with the lake water, and I sniff so that snot doesn’t run down my face.

  “I know,” she whispers. “It’s alright. It’s okay.” We stay like this for hours, the afternoon sun turning to evening before disappearing over the hills altogether. Stars twinkle into existence, and my tears dwindle away as they appear.

  Finally, when I’m all cried out, Alyssa leads me back to the house, past Rodney and Kyle who are waiting on the porch swing, and down the stairs to my—no, our—room.

  Chapter Thirteen

  I wake up in the middle of the night, a thought from my dream bothering me so much that I can’t remain asleep.

  Ruth. My great-grandmother, the writer of the mysterious journal.

  And another Ruth, the girl who comes for psychic readings. A quiet, odd girl. Is that her real name? Does she know something about the lake and its secrets? She’d been so odd about me.

  I sit up and rub my fingers against my temples. After a moment, Alyssa joins me, resting her head on my shoulder and scratching my back beneath my shirt.

  “You okay?” she mumbles through about five layers of sleep.

  I nod. “Just a headache.” I should tell her about this revelation, but it’s probably nothing. Just anxiety, being away from the lake, and a lack of sleep.

  She kisses me on the cheek and stands up to go to the downstairs bathroom, then returns with an aspirin and my refillable water bottle.

  I smile, then take the gifts from her. “Thanks,” I say.

  She lies down and opens her arms, and I snuggle into her, using her shoulder as a pillow. She strokes my hair and hums, and I fall into a dreamless sleep.

  Chapter Fourteen

  I wake up to a sore neck and nearly a dozen texts, mostly from Janna. I sigh and open them. What now?

  Someone else disappeared.

  Call me when you’re up.

  I found something.

  I had help though.

  Just call me.

  When are you gonna be up?

  ???

  Heather?

  I call her, and, despite the apparent urgency of her texts, it rings for a long time before she picks up.

  “Oh thank God,” she says, sounding out of breath. Alyssa stirs, and I stand and go upstairs so she can wake at her own pace.

  “What’s going on?” I ask, closing the basement door and moving to sit on the couch.

  A feminine voice says something in the background, but I can’t make out the words. It’s not one of Janna’s moms, though.

  “Someone else disappeared into the lake,” Janna says, not explaining the voice.

  “I got that. Who was it?”

  More mumbling, then Janna shushing whoever it is.

  “Some rich guy with a cabin closer to Branson. His wife reported it.”

  I nod, then realize she can’t actually see me. “Well, I guess that’s something we’ll have to deal with.” I won’t be able to get anyone else out of the lake, but I will have to find a way to keep the curse contained to Ginger Hills, at the very least.

  And there’s more mumbling.

  “Who is that?” I finally ask.

  Janna hesitates, and I almost think the call has been dropped. Then, she says, “Ruth.”

  We meet up at Janna’s house, and I eye Ruth suspiciously. The connection of her name and my great-grandmother’s name is suspicious, and she’s always acting so strange. Maybe an actual conversation with this stranger could solve some of our mysteries.

  I knock on the door, expecting Janna or one of her moms to answer, but Ruth is standing there, tiny and hollow and absolutely terrifying. Up close, her eyes are the same hazel as Alyssa’s and goosebumps rise on my arms.

  “Ruth,” I say as casually as possible.

  She nods. “Heather.” Then, she moves out of the way to let us in.

  What are we going to find out today?

  Chapter Fifteen

  I haven’t told anyone about the journal, and Alyssa hasn’t brought it up. When I pull it out of my bag on Janna’s couch, though, Ruth’s eyes widen. She reaches toward me, then hesitates.

  “Have you seen this before?” I ask. Maybe that’s why she’s so weird. She could’ve been the last owner of this journal, the girl who sold it to the magic shop.

  “Where did you get that?” Ruth breathes. I pass it to her and glance at Janna, who seems confused about the whole exchange.

  “I bought it,” I say. “I haven’t had time to finish it, though. Have you seen it before?”

  Ruth simply nods, then traces the words on the first page. A shuddering breath comes out of her tiny frame, and she shuts the journal, setting it on the coffee table between us. She doesn’t elaborate, doesn’t talk about the journal.

  “How did you two meet?” I ask, trying a totally different direction.

  Janna looks suddenly uncomfortable, and I frown, crossing my arms. She’s been keeping something from me. This is the same way she acted when she got into show choir and I didn’t.

  “Spill,” I say, deadpan.

  She sighs. “Ruth has been living here.”

  My mouth pops open, and I can’t even think of the words to say. This is quite the revelation. Janna’s been hiding an entire person from me? My best friend isn’t usually one for secrets, but this seems like a pretty big one, especially because of how weird Ruth’s sudden appearance in Ginger Hills is.

  “Living here? Since when?”

  She shifts her weight, then looks at Alyssa as if she can get her out of talking about this.

  “Since Mom dropped you off from the lake. She saw Ruth walking and found out she didn’t have anywhere to live.”

  That’s been days. With all that’s going on, I can’t believe that Janna would keep something like this from me.

  “Okay,” I say slowly, my hands tightening on my knees. My mouth twists into a frown of its own volition.

  “I was gonna tell you,” Janna says. “I mean, I guess I did. It was just, with so much going on…”

  I nod, but her words don’t fix anything. “It’s fine.” It’s not. Still, she sighs with relief. “Tell me about the person who disappeared.

  Janna explains everything from the news. Basically, the man went for an early-morning swim in the light rain, his wife saw a commotion, and then he was gone.

  “They’re warning people to stay out of the water. Some conspiracy theorists have already caught on, and they’re saying it’s our own Nessie.”

  I laugh, although there’s not really anything funny about the situation.

  “They’re not that far off,” I admit. Man-eating fish monsters aren’t that different from a mythical lake monster. They’re just a different flavor of the same horror. “But what did you find?”

  Janna chews her lip, then pulls out her phone. “Did you know that your great-great-grandmother was the first person to disappear into the lake?”

  I take the phone and read the old newspaper article. It describes a woman disappearing on a morning swim in the early sixties.

  “And, get this, the lake wasn’t even here until the late fifties,” Janna says while I scroll.

  “Right,” I say. “That makes sense, since it’s an artificial lake. But what does that have to do with it?”

  Janna and Ruth look at each other, then back to Alyssa and I.

  Ruth says, “Like you, I grew up as a magic user. I was taught to be in tune with nature, because there are ancient spirits in everything.” I have a feeling she’s hiding something, avoiding more specific details about herself, but I don’t interrupt. “Well, when I first encountered the lake, it felt like something was wrong with it. Like it was angry.”

  I nod. I feel the same thing when I approach the water, although it hadn’t been like that before Alyssa came out. At least, not enough for me to notice.
/>   Ruth continues, “I think it’s the river. Angry at being dammed up. It can’t flow like it used to.”

  That makes sense, but I don’t know how this information is helpful. “But it’s not like we can blow up the dam. And the disappearances weren’t so bad until recently.”

  She nods, then passes me the notebook. “I think you should keep reading. This might be able to help you.”

  I frown and narrow my eyes at her. “And why can’t you just tell me?”

  She shakes her head, and a few strands of hair fall into her face. “We can talk afterwards.” She almost sounds sad about it.

  I sigh. “Fine. Meet me at the dock at eight.” She nods, and I stand up, taking Alyssa with me.

  As we leave, I take a final look at Janna’s house. “That was no help at all,” I say, frustration building in me.

  Chapter Sixteen

  The police are at the house again. Well, Darrel Murray is at the house again. He’s sitting on the porch with Mom, who’s given him another glass of tea. She’s probably being super nice to him, as well.

  I nod at him and rush past before he can suck me into a conversation, but Alyssa hangs back, squeezing my hand before letting go.

  I go to the basement alone, opening the journal once again. I read through two years of sparse entries about Ruth building the house and then living there with her daughter, my Nan, while her husband was away for the war. He never returned, never met his baby girl, and I have to stop reading for a moment.

  I give myself just enough time to gather myself, then keep going. If this journal is the key to what’s going on with the lake, then I have to finish it.

  July 12, 1964

  Tom is dead. I am alone. I write these words over and over, say them out loud, but it still doesn’t make sense. He wasn’t in a combat zone, wasn’t in danger. That’s what he always assured me. He was supposed to come home two days after he died. He had two days left.

  I can’t raise a baby alone. I can’t do any of this. It wasn’t supposed to be this way.

  I don’t know much about magic, but I know enough. I will be getting Mom back. My daughter will be better off that way. She won’t know any better, anyway. People keep disappearing into the water, and I can’t have that for my daughter. I will make it safe, at least a little.

  The entry cuts off, but there are folded sheets of paper and smears of ink and blood. I open them and spread them out, reading them over and over.

  This is a binding spell. It can bind a spirit to an object, or, if someone is desperate enough, another person.

  There’s one final entry, but it’s in a different handwriting. It doesn’t have a date.

  Ruth is in the lake. She got me out, and the water is safe everywhere except our cove. I will not let this sacrifice be in vain.

  The spell had worked. I read it over and over again, then study the photo of the young woman with her baby.

  The features are just as familiar as they’d been last time I looked, but for a different reason. She’s not emaciated in the photo, and she sparkles with happiness, but it’s her.

  Ruth didn’t read the journal. She didn’t steal her name from it.

  She showed up here not because she needed a reading, but because it had been her home.

  Ruth is my great-grandmother. She bound herself to the lake, and, when I let Alyssa out, I freed her, as well.

  Chapter Seventeen

  I don’t wait for eight o’clock. I tear out of the driveway in Mom’s car and drive around the back roads until I reach Janna’s house. I hadn’t even given Alyssa the chance to join me. Not for this.

  I pound on the door, and Janna’s mamma answers.

  “Where are they?” I demand. I should feel bad about my rudeness, but I can’t. Not with something this important.

  “They went down to the docks,” she says, totally unphased by my attitude. I walk down, tromping through the dead leaves and brush of the steep hill leading down to their dock.

  I can just make out the shapes of both girls as they reach the dock below me. Thunder rumbles in the distance, and the air smells of petrichor.

  “Ruth!” I yell. My heart pounds. She’d done this. If she weren’t here, everyone would be safe.

  They turn around, and confusion crosses Janna’s face. Still, they begin to walk toward me.

  When I reach them, I shove Ruth in the chest. She stumbles back, and her expression goes blank.

  “You should have told me,” I shout. Maybe I’m overreacting, but I can’t help it. Ruth being in the lake had been the one thing keeping people safe. It had been the only way to ensure the fish wouldn’t leave Ginger Hills. Thunder crashes once again, closer this time.

  “I know,” she says, stumbling backwards as I continue to approach her.

  “Heather, calm down,” Janna says, grabbing my wrist. I yank it away. “I think you know why she couldn’t.”

  I twist around, and my hair wraps around and smacks her. “You knew?” This is hardly more than a whisper. She’d been hiding more than a random person from me. She’d known since meeting Ruth that she was my great-grandmother.

  She nods, clearly ashamed of herself.

  Good.

  I turn back on Ruth. “You have to go back.” I take another step forward, and she trips over a rock, falling to her butt in the shallow lake water. The sky flashes, and after a moment, the thunder follows. Any moment now, it’ll be raining.

  “Heather, stop!” Janna screams, grabbing me and yanking me back. I pull against her like an animal, not unlike Alyssa’s reaction to her parents.

  “You know this is wrong,” I yell back. “That she’s not supposed to be here.” Tears sting at my eyes, and I stare daggers at Ruth, who’s turned her face out to the deeper lake. It won’t be long now. If they take her back, maybe everything will be fixed.

  “Not like this,” Janna says. “It won’t work if you do it like this. She had to sacrifice herself to make the lake even mildly safe. Do you really think she won’t be eaten alive if she’s taken now?”

  I shake my head. It makes too much sense, but adrenaline is pumping through my body, and I need someone else to blame. Anyone else.

  “You have to stop,” Janna says gently. She pulls me just a little, and I give way. A shudder runs through me.

  I nod, and Ruth leaps out of the water, scrambling up the hill just enough that it can’t reach her. Janna is right, of course. She’s right about everything. If Ruth were found in the water when it rains, the monsters of the lake would tear the flesh off her bones and eat it until there was nothing left.

  There is another way, though. I know that. Ruth knows that.

  I sigh, and Janna releases me.

  “Okay,” I say, setting my jaw. Then, I walk up the hill alone.

  Chapter Eighteen

  People are dying. And more will die if something isn’t done. I can’t get people out of the lake, but there is a way to protect those who might be taken. I gather the papers from Ruth’s diary and take them with me. Alyssa and Mom hadn’t been here when I returned, and neither had Officer Murray. Had they gone to find me?

  Who else knew about Ruth? Everyone?

  I walk down to the dock, the rain soaking me through in moments. I do my best to keep the papers safe, though.

  A boat engine sounds from far off. If it’s Janna, then I may not have time. I take off running, passing the lazy horses, the barbed-wire fence, the trees. I run, because if I don’t, more people will die.

  Chapter Nineteen

  There is never enough time.

  The lake swells, pregnant with rainwater and yearning for more sacrifices. It will always want more. There aren’t enough sad people in the world to give it what it needs.

  The water laps at the dock, droplets splashing over the warped wood. Little specks dot the metal guardrails. The day looks so normal, but the darkness below is never-ending.

  I’m going to be sick.

  I have to do this, though.

  I work quickl
y, painting the slats red with symbols of blood. My head spins, probably from the blood loss as I clutch the knife in my hand.

  When the circle is complete, I wipe my hands on my skirt. It’s going to be ruined anyway.

  I whisper the words from Ruth’s journal three times, my tongue stumbling over the Latin. My back is to the water. I don’t want to see it until I absolutely have to.

  Thunder crashes in the sky, and my heart speeds up.

  “Heather!”

  My head jerks up, and Alyssa is sprinting toward me, her feet bare and her dress plastered to her in the heavy rain. Everyone else is close behind. Janna, Rodney, Kyle, Mom. Even Ruth is there, although she hangs back. The boat must not have been them.

  Alyssa’s face is a mess, hair sticking to her skin and cheeks red. I take in a deep breath and look at the dock.

  “You can’t do this!” she screams, her voice competing with the thunder and rain. A lump forms in my throat.

  I look down, and the rain has begun to creep over the dock, a crack forming on one of the outer lines of my sigil. If the circle is ruined before the ritual is complete, it will fail. I don’t know if I have the constitution to try again. I look back up, and Alyssa is stumbling over the start of the dock. I back up another step, my ankle resting against the edge of the wood above the ladder.

  “Please come back,” she begs, tripping and falling to her knees. I could go to her, assure her that I’ll find another way. I guess it wasn’t so hard for Janna to figure out my plan, and she’d rallied the troops as fast as she could.

  “I bind myself to you, and you to me. So long as I am here, you are bound to Ginger Hills.” I close my eyes and fall backward into the lake.