15. Ice Cold, Yet Still Warm - Stiles
There’s a feeling at the lake, it’s hard to describe, but it feels like the whole word is sleeping. The trees brush against each other, the grass dances in the breeze and the lake water is perfectly still —sleeping.
Which, yeah, probably isn’t right. Water should ripple when it’s windy right? And lap against the banks, crashing against the wooden posts underneath us. But instead it remains still. Untouched. Like a liquid mirror.
Percy crouches over the edge of the boards, reaching down to touch the water. I pull him back quickly. I don’t think anyone should touch the water, let alone go swimming in it. There’s something —in there. Waiting.
“Let’s all sit in the boat shed,” I decided. “It looks like rain anyway, it’ll be easier to watch the lake without being wet and cold.”
The floor of the shed is covered in a thick layer of dust and there’s a clear imprint from Liam and Scott’s shoes. Several metal shelves are bolted to the walls where the canoes used to sit, and a fishing table runs along the length of the wall.
“I found some chairs,” Scott calls out, and he comes out of the dark back corner of the room with four fishing chairs. “Careful for spiders when you open them.”
I grimace, holding mine away from my body as it folds open. Thankfully, it’s bug free. Sitting it against the wall under the racks, I drop down into it and sit my backpack on the floor beside it.
Percy has left his opened opposite me, where he’s closer to the water than the rest of us, but he’s standing at the large support beam in the middle of the room. Deep gouges have been made in the wood in three large stripes, along with indents from a chain that’s been long since removed.
Liam snorts when he notices what Percy’s looking at, before rushing to hide the noise with a weird cough. He returns to staring out at the water and eating lollies from a bag of Party Mix.
“What are these from?” Percy asks, tracing a finger over the largest line.
“Lydia’s dog.”
His eyebrows fly up. “I thought Lydia had one of those small yappy dogs?”
“She does,” Scott agrees. “But Prada is a mad dog, she gets crazy when she’s hungry.”
Percy laughs, turning away from the post without a backwards glance. He settles into his own seat and pulls out a bag of his Mum’s blue choc chip biscuits. I’ve always wondered why they’re blue. Is it a personal choice, or does it make the biscuit taste better? I need to eat one, honestly.
“Did everyone bring food but me?” Scott says, suddenly. He looks between the three of us, like he expected me not to bring food on a night long stakeout. I need fuel to keep me going okay? These sour gummy worms are my gasoline.
I held the plastic bag out to him, “it’s okay Scottie, you can have some of mine.” Scott grins, snatching out a handful. “Oh, and there’s chips on the floor of the passenger's seat if you want.”
“Dude, why didn’t you say that earlier?”
Liam waits until Scott’s out the door before holding up a green bag he’d stashed away in his bag, “I already took them.”
I huff a laugh, before laughing full on when Scott runs back in and tackles Liam to the floor –knocking his chair over and reaching for the chips. They roll about for a minute, messing up the dust and losing most of the chips on the floor.
Then Scott pops up triumphant, “you can’t beat me, Dunbar. Maybe one day, when I’m eighty years old..” He struts back to his chair, snacks on a few before offering some to Liam.
“You’re a weak man,” I say, waving a sugary snake at him.
“No,” Scott argues, “I’m a caring man, who shares their food. Unlike some people.”
“Hey, I share.”
“Rarely.”
“I gave you gummy worms, didn’t I?” I look at Percy for help, “tell scott I share.”
Percy hums, taping a finger on his chin. “I don’t know Stiles. I don’t think you do, but I’m up for bribery to sway my beliefs.” he looks purposefully at the lollies.
I lob a few at him.
“Scott, Stiles is a very selfless person,” Percy says in the poshest most poncy little accent ever.
“You know what, shut up,” I scowl. He thinks he’s so funny, the sarcasm in his tone was so obvious I could’ve noticed it from a mile away. “Ungrateful, all of you.”
Water splashes, and I nearly snap my neck turning to see what caused it. The lake surface ripples, a small ring spreading out from five metres away, its rings travelling over to hit the posts holding the boat shed up.
“Just a fish, don’t worry.” Scott says.
I nearly believe him. Nearly return to our (now subdued) conversation. But Percy is still staring at the water, his eyes wide and face paler than it was before. His hand twitches and he drops his food down to the floor before standing up and walking to the edge.
“Percy?” I ask, standing up too.
“What’s at the other end of the lake, where all the trees are growing out of the water?”
I squint, trying to see. The trees in the water are miles away, I can hardly see them as it is. But it sounds like Percy has better vision than I do.
“I don’t know. No ones been to the end for ages —few people go fishing here now and when they do they stay up this end.” I tilt my head sideways, thinking. What is up the other end? And why does it matter?
“Are there any canoes here we could use?” Percy asks randomly, and he spins on the spot, looking back into the shed.
“No, they all got taken out.”
“Damn.”
Percy doesn’t move back to his seat, so we both face the lake quietly. I’m curious to see what’s at the other end. From what I know, and what I’ve seen, there’s only a bunch of massive trees that grow there. It’s really deep there too, because for trees so big, only a little less than half stick out on the surface.
“You should go check it out.”
I’m not sure if I heard it, but I'm dead certain someone just spoke beside Percy and I. Looking behind me though, Liam and Scott are still in their seats, talking between themselves.
“...swim underwater, when … they’re not paying attention.”
Okay, that voice sounds like a little shit. It’s there, quiet, barely louder than the breeze, but it’s there. It’s not coming from anyone visible, and I check the water to make sure no magical fucking fish popped up to have a conversation.
When I look at the floorboards beneath us, there’s three pairs of shoe imprints trailing up to where we stand. One of them is on the other side of Percy.
“Percy,” I grab his arm, “let’s go sit down, yeah.”
“Uh, you can, I’m alright here.” Percy tries to stay there, and I tug him a little harder.
“Percy,” I say, and something in my tone makes Percy really look at me, his eyes wondering over my face for answers. “Just do it.”
He nods. We go back to our chairs, and I drag mine over beside him. I can't hear the voice anymore, and the third pair of footprints have turned and walked past us. I point them out to Percy as subtle as I can.
Percy raises an eyebrow, and has the audacity to say, “there’s nothing there,” and clicks his fingers in my face.
I click my fingers in his face with a scowl. “Don’t do that. There’s footsteps right next to…” my voice drops off as something else clicks in my face. I didn’t see Percy move, so I know that wasn’t him but…
I blink frantically, like I’m trying to restart my eyes. Somehow, I don’t know when, but the shoe prints have disappeared. Just like that. Gone. I scrub my eyes harshly and stretch them open as widely as possible.
“There’s nothing there,” I breathe out, rolling my jaw.
Percy pats my shoulder, “yeah. Are you alright?”
I kiss my teeth and drop my shoulders, “I think so.”
Percy bites his bottom lip, studying me a second longer before leaving to grab stuff from the car. I feel disorientated. Something did happen, something in the air has shifted, I just don’t know what.
Scott leans over, whispering, “so you don’t think Percy’s the killer?”
I blink. “What? No, I —I still think that. Why do you think I don’t?”
“‘Cause you let him out of your sight, he’s been gone for five minutes,” Scott says, pointing at the door with his head. “I know we’re looking for a killer but we should still be trying to focus on Percy too. He’s a suspect—”
“I know, Scott.” I shove his face back lightly. Playfully. But there’s force behind it that says I’m agitated right now, and it would do him good to realise it. He knows how much I think, there’s no doubt from anyone that I haven’t been picking apart at all options. I never stop until there’s a fucking brick wall in my way saying this person is innocent in bold, black letters. “It’s only been five minutes, give him a minute and he’ll be back.”
But a minute passes and no one walks through the door. Then five, six, ten minutes pass and I’m getting antsy. My knee bounces up and down, up and down, up and down. I tap my fingers against the armrest of my chair and glance at the door.
“Do you want me to go see what’s taking him so long?” Scott offers, already beginning to ease himself up.
“No it’s fine,” I jumped up. “I’ll be back.”
There’s something I’m looking for specifically as I make my way to the door, a set of footprints that Scott nor Liam would have even cared to notice. Only one person has walked out the door so far, meaning there should only be one pair of footprints.
But no. They’re there. Imprints in the dust just a smidge behind Percy’s. They’re smaller and less obvious –whoever made them intended to walk lightly, probably hoping to leave less of a mark behind.
I turn on a torch and its light leads a path to my car. Gravel and other loose rocks crunch under my feet as I walk. I can’t see much past the flashlight, only trees and the moon’s light mirrored in the water.
It’s clear Percy isn’t here, and calling out his name would be a waste of time. Instead I make my way down the muddy bank to the water. Again, there’s two tracks in the mud that lead to the water before disappearing under the surface.
It’s not hard to figure out where Percy’s gone.
----
How we stole a canoe is not important, only that we have it. It’s big and orange, large enough that all three of us can fit in it with little to no issues.
“Can you move over a little?” Liam grumbles, his elbow digging into my side.
“No.” Pushing his elbow away, I put the paddle back into the water. “Keep paddling.”
There were three paddles when we grabbed the canoe, one double-ended paddle and two little half paddles. None of us wanted to share a seat so there was a five minute argument until Scott decided that he’s the largest so we’d have to share —to balance the canoe.
Scott is barely paddling at the front. He’s messaging the groupchat on his phone about what happened. From what I’ve been told, Chris and Derek nearly sent it over here to help deal with Percy.
We’ve only just made it past the halfway mark of the lake and I can barely see the trees in the water at the end.
We haven’t seen Percy once, which is wrong. Very wrong. No one can last underwater for that long, not if they’re human. Which we’ve established already, Percy is anything but. I don’t think he was forced or coerced into getting in the water either, if he was then I’m sure we would’ve seen his body floating in bloody water at this point.
“How much farther Stiles?” Scott asks.
“Until you’re being wacked in the face by a branch,” I say. I’d like to see that happen too.
Liam says, “that’s not gonna happen for ages. We’re only halfway across the lake.”
“Yeah we know. We’d be closer to the other end if someone would help paddle.”
Scott gives me an annoyed look over his shoulder, then starts paddling. There’s more strength in his movements, thanks to his wolfiness, and we reach the other side a lot quicker.
The water is dark and endless here, you couldn’t see the bottom if you swam down and touched it. Branches grow out of the water, their leaves reaching for fresh hair and I lazily brush my hand against a little bunch.
Liam is letting his paddle drift through the water as he stares down into it. Scott searches the trees. It’s dense and thick, the paths through the water too thin for the canoe.
“Should we swim further in?” Scott wonders. “We're able to search more areas that way. Percy’s not going to be out here anyway. Not if he’s hiding, or killing a body.”
“How do we know Percy didn’t just turn around before he reached halfway and went back to the shed?” Liam looks back to where they started.
“We just know,” I insist. Because when I look around these trees, there’s no red strings. My gut and my mind are speaking the same language, telling me to be here. To look here, if I want answers.
And I want.
“We can’t all go swimming,” Scott announces in that tone of his. Strong and confident. “One of us needs to stay with the canoe, maybe even go around the outline of the trees.”
“Good of you to volunteer,” I say while shedding my jacket and emptying my pockets onto the seat. “Liam, let’s go.”
“What, me?”
“Yes—”
Scott cuts in, “I’m not letting you two go, I’m coming.”
“Scott, you’re the strongest here. If someone gets in trouble we’re trusting you to get the canoe over and help us.” I assure him swiftly, dropping my phone into his lap. “You’re in charge, you need to be ready to get help or be the help.”
He sighs, “fine.”
“Perfect.” I slip over the side of the boat and ease into the water. It’s ice cold. “We’ll be back in twenty minutes, maybe sooner.”
Liam grimaces once he’s in the water, clenching his jaw and lifting his head out of the water as much as he can. We don’t speak as we drift further into the trees, listening out for noises.
Branches grab at our clothes as we pass, scratching our skin. I press through it, wondering why I didn’t bring a torch with me to light up the water in front of me. I don’t think I want to see what’s under the water though.
Liam follows close behind me. His eyes are yellow when I look behind me, no doubt using them to see better in the dark. It’s not a full moon, and I’m grateful for that fact. Liam’s gotten better at controlling his wolf, but the full moon is still a bit difficult.
Suddenly, the water gets warmer.
I squint, trying to see better. Maybe we’ve reached a more shallow area? But Liam yelps behind me, and his arms go a bit wild as he rears back. I spin, trying to see what happened. Liam flinches when a branch hits him, but doesn’t stop moving away.
“What?” I say, my heart beat spiking. “What is it?”
“Stiles, get over here.” Liam demands without answering. His voice is high, and his eyes are wide. “Please.”
“Fine, Jesus,” I mumble.
I kick my feet swimming back to him, but, well —I can’t. A hand holds onto my ankle and I lurch to grab something. Anything. It doesn’t pull me towards it, but itself towards me.
My head ducks under water for a second and I practically rip my nails off trying to hold onto the branches. Spitting out water, I yell, “Liam —help!”
There’s no finesse to how wildly I try to pull my leg out of the vice-like grip, half screaming and half choking on the water. Eventually, I feel my foot collide hard against something solid and the hand falls away.
My heart is racing around my ribcage like a motorcyclist in one of those metal, ball cages. I swallow deeply and look to where Liam is, braced against the tree with absolute horror in his yellow eyes.
“What was that?” I say shakily.
Liam stares, unblinking, at the water. “A person, I think. I could only see their shape."
“Could it have been Percy?”
“No. No, it wasn’t. I think.” Liam shakes his head. “But you weren’t, you’re not, swimming in water, Stiles.”
I tilt my head sideways. It feels like water, just warmer than before and denser— oh. I extend a hand out through the liquid. It’s harder to move through, and I can’t sweep my hand through it as quickly as you should be able to in water.
It’s sticky too.
I bring my hand back through the water and my eyes shutter. It’s horrible, how easily I understood what I’m swimming in and I’m not even racing to get out. I don’t even have to see it, because I just know.
The feeling of it paints the walls of my mind.
The only difference is that there’s so much more of it. Of the blood. It’s not as thick and goopy as normal either, probably because it’s mixed with water.
“We’re going back to Scott,” I declare. My voice feels disconnected. “We’ll tell my Dad about this and they can come searching out here during the day.” when they can see.
3048 words.