The Lake House

Part 4

"Grab her, Luca! Get her out of the water!" Rianon's voice muffled through the water in Aleksa's ears.

Hands clung to her, fingers dug painfully up her armpits. Her hair pressed against her face and water flowed down her skin. The smooth, slimy stones at the lake's shore rubbed against the back of her legs as she was carried. Arms wrapped around her waist, and she was lifted out of the water.

Cradled against Luca's chest, Aleksa couldn't see or breathe. Her mouth opened and closed, hair fell in, water dripped down her throat, but no air passed into her lungs. The water raged inside her, refused to let her go. The very being of the lake flowed through her mind, an ancient entity released from its purgatory through the cracks in the earth at the bottom of the lake. Aleksa understood; she was never supposed to be found.

Luca laid her down and cleared her face.

"She's not breathing." His voice trembled.

"Move over," Rianon replied.

And then all Aleksa could feel was pain. It beat against her chest, air forced down her throat, strong against the water in her lungs. The lake resisted, refused to lose its captive. It invaded her mind. Why would Aleksa want to leave the lake? Aleksa would be a divorcee outside of the lake. A failure at marriage. In the lake, she'd live forever as a martyr, along with the others, so many others.

The shadows of their lives washed over her in the water's last effort to cling to her. Men, women, children, like the teenager she'd found floating in the depths. All an unwilling offering to the evil in the water.

The past burned under her skin but the incessant beating continued against her chest. Thick, sour air propelled past her tongue, down her throat, still attempting to reach her lungs. If she could, Aleksa would've screamed. She howled in her head, thrashed, and shrieked against the torment. She'd give anything to make it stop, she'd be the lake's martyr, she'd join the shadows if only to make the agony cease.

With one final beat, the water's grip on her severed. Water lurched from her mouth and poured from her nose as she blinked her eyes open. The bright sunlight burned her already blurred vision. Someone lifted and turned her onto her side, then wrapped an arm around her neck, a loose grip that held her up and close at the same time.

"Thank fucking God." Rianon sobbed in Aleksa's ear. "I've got you, Lexie, I've got you."

"I'm heading out." Luca's blue t-shirt clung to his shoulders, damp from the shower. He pocketed keys and his wallet. "You sure you only want soup?" He turned to his second sister, the one he'd almost lost.

Aleksa nodded from her seat on the couch. She wore Luca's sweatshirt, a large dumbbell advertising his gym across the front. Her throat was raw like someone had scratched their way down and then back up. It burned with every swallow of saliva and ached when she spoke. She had turned down her siblings' offers of water, the liquid in the glass seemed to waggle a finger at her, daring her to take a sip.

"Get her something hearty, like creamy potato." Rianon spoke beside her. She hadn't left Aleksa's side, having walked her up to the house while Luca gathered their clothes.

Luca left and Rianon draped an arm around Aleksa, pulling her close against her chest.

She hadn't showered, unlike Luca and Aleksa, so Rianon still smelled of the lake, musty and bitter. The scent washed over Aleksa's face and slithered down her skin, taking her back into the water. Her breath caught in her throat and she scrambled away.

"What's wrong?" Rianon asked.

How could she explain the evil coming off of her, the thirst and hunger for Aleksa, or any of them, to step a toe into the water? That was all it needed, all it wanted to satiate its thirst.