Stuart Woods - Under the Lake

PROLOGUE

Benny Pope stole the boat because he had never been fishing. He hadlived right next to the lake forever, but he had never been fishing. Itdidnt seem right. The more beer he drank the more apparent thisinjustice became, and, at two oclock in the morning, after two quicksixpacks, he determined to right the wrong.

He shuffled from his room at the back of Ed Parkers Sinclairstation, clutching the other two sixpacks of the case of beer and madehis way past the wrecked cars and piles of old tires, through the treesand down to the little dock where Ed rented space to locals. He cast aslightly-out-of-focus eye on the array of small boats tied there andchose the aluminum skiff belonging to the lawyer, McCauliffe, becausethere was a fishing rod lying in it and because it had two motors. Twomotors seemed like a good idea to Benny; you never could tell when onewould conk out. Folks were always bringing them up to the station toget fixed.

Benny got the outboard started easily enough, though he nearly felloverboard doing it, then he pointed the skiff toward the middle of thelake, steering an erratic course. The night was clear and warm andstill, and the noise the outboard made soon began to intrude uponBennys appreciation of the nature around him, so he switched it offand changed to the little electric trolling motor which ran off a carbattery. Its dim hum was more in harmony with the surroundings, andsoon Benny had some line played out behind the boat and was happilytrolling aimlessly across the lake, unconcerned with whatever kind oflure he was towing. He was fishing, by God. He glanced back toward thetown. The only electric lights to be seen were at Bubbas, where alow-stakes pool game was still going on. The old timey gaslights alongMain street cast a warm glow over the brick storefronts, giving thewhite trim a honey tint. It was all very pretty, Benny thought, apretty town. He was glad he lived there. During the week, he did hiswork, stayed sober and said hey to folks, helped Ed bring in thebusiness to the filling station. On Saturday nights, he cashed hispaycheck, bought a case of beer, and drank it by himself. Sundays, heslept late. He didnt go to mass any more. Nobody did. He crackedanother cold beer and settled in the bottom of the boat, his headresting against a seat cushion, and gazed, awestruck, at the wild arrayof stars twinkling at him in the moonless night.

Benny wasnt sure what time it was when he woke up. He was closer toshore, and the little electric motor was draining the last of thebatterys juice, barely moving the boat. A moment later it stoppedaltogether, and the boat drifted. The night and the water wereabsolutely still. The stars were reflected in the lake, and for amoment Benny felt he was floating in space, with stars both over andunder him. He was so enchanted with the beauty of the moment that hedidnt even want another beer. Then he saw the lights in the water.

They were obviously not stars; they were too bright and too wellarranged. Benny froze just for a moment. The faint memory of an oldmovie came to him, something about space invaders. If the lights werereflected in the water, then they had to be over his head, but he heardnothing. Jesus God, it was a flying saucer! Those things didnt makeany noise, did they? He got slowly to his knees, unable to take hiseyes from the reflection in the water. The lights werent moving; thegoddamned thing was hovering right over him! He forced himself toslowly swivel his neck and look up. There was nothing there. It wasgone. It had flown off in an instant, without a sound, before he couldsee it.

Bennys breath rushed out of him in a huge sigh of relief. He sankback into the boat. Now he needed another beer; he drank deeply fromit. He was too sober for this sort of experience. He set the beer downon a thwart and reached into the back pocket of his overalls for thehalf pint of Early Times he had stashed there in case the beer didntdo the job. It wasnt doing the job, now, and he knocked back a bunchof the bourbon and chased it with the beer. His heart was thumpingagainst his chest, accelerated by his close call with being kidnappedinto space. Benny had read something in Readers Digest aboutsome folks that had got kidnapped by a flying saucer, and while itsounded like they had had an interesting experience, it sure hadscrewed up their lives good. Nobody had believed them or anything, andsure as hell, nobody would believe him if he got kidnapped into spaceand came back to tell about it. Shoot, they didnt believe him abouthis other experiences, the ones hed had right here at home, so hecould imagine the grief hed have to take if he told them hed been offin a flying saucer, even if he really had been. As the bourbon foundits way to the right places, he began to chuckle at himself, at hisfoolishness. He laughed out loud. He began to feel cold, and he pulledat the bourbon again. It was time to be getting back. He struggled upto the seat to start the outboard and in so doing glanced at the lake.The lights in the water were back, winking at him in the ripples hismovements in the boat had made.

He looked quickly above him, determined to catch it this time, thenback at the reflection. He did this three or four times before herealized that there was nothing above him. He looked back at thelights. They were still there, but they werent reflections in thelake. They were under the lake.

Benny stared dumbly at the lights for a moment, tried to get hisbrain to think through the bourbon. The lights didnt seem close to thesurface, but far below. And there was a pattern, a familiar pattern. Ahouse. They were the lights of a house. And all of a sudden Benny knew,he remembered. He had seen this place before, and he had never expectedto see it again. He looked quickly up at the shoreline for evidencethat this wasnt happening. Trees; up yonder a cabin. He turned andlooked for the water tower in the town, found its string of red lightsin the distance over a promontory. His mind triangulated his positionas if it were a big radio. He was in the cove. Oh, sweet Jesus, he wasback in the cove.

In terror, he looked back at the lights; now he could see more. Hewas looking at fields and trees under the lake. He could see the houseand the road from above, as if he were floating in some silentdirigible. As he looked, the lights of a car pulled away from the houseand moved rapidly up the road. He had, he knew, seen all this before.Benny Pope lost his fight with panic. He grabbed the starter cord onthe outboard and yanked, and thank God, the engine started immediately.Then, as he reached for the gear lever, a soundless explosion of lightcame from the lake, illuminating the water about him. For an instantthe little boat seemed afloat on a sea of pulsating light.

Benny slammed the motor into gear and twisted the throttle wideopen. The boat shot forward, dumping him into the bilges, screaming. Hekept screaming as he somehow found his knees and got the wobbling,yawing boat pointed toward the distant town water tower. His screamsmingled with the roar of the motor and echoed off the hills.

Bubba Brown had finished mopping the floor at Bubbas Central Cafeand Recreation Parlor and was fishing for his keys to lock up whenBenny Pope exploded through the front doors, damn near shattering theplate glass.

I seen it, Bubba, I seen it! Benny was shouting. Over to theCove! I seen it again!

Hey! Come on, Benny! Bubba yelled back at him, holding his wristsand guiding him toward a seat in a booth. Just sit down here and takeit easy for a minute. He got a bottle of his own stuff from behind thecounter and poured a stiff one into a water glass. Here, now get thatdown and relax.

Benny knocked back the whiskey and held onto the table edges whileit did its work. I seen it, Bubba, he said, and he seemed to becalming down a bit.