The Discovery

The gentle lapping of water against the hull of their small fishing boat was the only sound breaking the stillness of the night. Well, that and the occasional snort of laughter from Earl as he recounted yet another tall tale to his fishing buddy, Bob. The two men had been out on Lake Thunderbird since sunset, more interested in draining their cooler of beer than actually catching any fish.

Earl Simmons, a stocky man in his early sixties with a salt-and-pepper beard, leaned back in his creaky folding chair, his weathered hands wrapped around a can of his favorite local brew. His eyes, still sharp despite the years, twinkled with mischief in the soft glow of the boat’s lantern.

Across from him, Bob Tucker shook his head in amused disbelief. At fifty-five, Bob was the younger of the two, though not by much. His lean frame and quick movements belied his age, a testament to years of hard work on his small farm just outside of town.

“I’m tellin’ ya, Bob,” Earl wheezed, wiping tears of mirth from his eyes, “that catfish was bigger than my truck! Took three of us just to haul it in!”

Bob rolled his eyes, a grin playing at the corners of his mouth. “Sure, Earl. And I’m the Queen of England.”

“You callin’ me a liar?” Earl feigned indignation, reaching for another can of beer. The cooler’s lid creaked open, ice cubes clinking as he rummaged for a fresh drink.

“Nah, just sayin’ you might be misrememberin’ things a bit. Maybe that catfish was as big as your truck’s side mirror, not the whole dang vehicle.”

Earl’s retort was cut short by a sudden tug on his fishing line. The rod bent sharply, nearly yanking out of his hands. “Woah! Speakin’ of big fish, I think I got me a whopper here!”

Bob leaned forward, his interest piqued. “Well, don’t just sit there gawkin’. Reel it in!”

Earl began to crank the reel, his face reddening with exertion. The veins in his forearms bulged as he strained against the unseen force beneath the water. “This fella’s puttin’ up one heck of a fight!”

“Need some help there, old timer?” Bob teased, already moving to assist his friend.

“Old timer? I’ll show you old timer!” Earl grunted, redoubling his efforts. The boat rocked precariously as both men threw their weight into the struggle.

For several minutes, they battled with the unseen catch, trading good-natured barbs as they slowly but surely brought it closer to the surface. The night air, cool and crisp, carried the scent of pine from the surrounding forest. In the distance, an owl hooted, its call echoing across the still waters.

“What’d you do, Earl? Hook the Loch Ness Monster?”

“Nah, probably just your mama. She always did like skinny dippin’.”

Their laughter echoed across the placid lake, disturbing a nearby group of ducks who took off with indignant quacks, their wings beating a staccato rhythm against the water’s surface.

As the mystery catch neared the surface, Bob grabbed a net. The mesh dipped into the dark water, ready to scoop up their prize. “Alright, let’s see this record-breaker of yours.”

The water churned, dark and ominous in the weak moonlight. Something large broke the surface with a sickening slurp, water cascading off its form in rivulets that gleamed silver in the lantern light.

“What in tarnation?” Earl muttered, peering over the side of the boat. His bushy eyebrows furrowed in confusion as he tried to make sense of what he was seeing.

Bob’s triumphant grin froze on his face as he lowered the net. “That ain’t no fish.”

In the murky water, illuminated by their boat’s meager lights, floated something decidedly un-fish-like. It was pale, bloated, and unmistakably human. The body bobbed gently in the water, caught on Earl’s fishing line like some macabre marionette.

“Sweet Jesus,” Earl whispered, dropping his fishing rod with a clatter that seemed to echo across the suddenly too-quiet lake. He stumbled backward, nearly losing his footing on the damp floor of the boat.

The body’s face, or what was left of it, stared sightlessly up at the starry Oklahoma sky. Its skin, pale and waterlogged, seemed to glow with an eerie, strange light in the darkness. Wisps of long, dark hair floated around the head like a halo, swaying gently with the water’s movement.

Bob stumbled backward, nearly capsizing their small craft. His feet tangled in the fishing gear strewn across the bottom of the boat, sending tackle boxes and empty beer cans clattering. “We gotta call the sheriff!”

Earl couldn’t tear his eyes away from the gruesome sight. His mind reeled, trying to make sense of what he was seeing. This was Lake Thunderbird, for crying out loud. The same lake where he’d taught his kids to swim, where he and Bob had spent countless summer days fishing and shooting the breeze. How could something like this happen here?

“How… how long you reckon it’s been in there?” Earl’s voice was barely above a whisper, as if speaking too loudly might somehow disturb the dead.

“Too long,” Bob replied, his voice shaky. He fumbled for his cell phone, hands trembling so badly he could barely dial. The glare from the screen illuminated his face, highlighting the shock and fear etched into every line.

As Bob spoke in hushed, urgent tones to the emergency dispatcher, Earl found himself fixated on the body. The peaceful lake that had been their sanctuary, their escape from the mundane troubles of small-town life, now seemed vast and menacing. What other secrets lurked beneath its placid surface?

The gravity of their discovery slowly sank in, chasing away the pleasant buzz of alcohol and camaraderie. This wasn’t just a body; it was evidence. Someone had died, possibly murdered, and dumped in their lake like so much garbage.

Earl’s mind raced, conjuring up images of crime scenes he’d seen on TV. But this wasn’t some big city with hardened detectives and state-of-the-art forensics labs. This was Newford, Oklahoma, population barely over 2,000. The sheriff’s department consisted of a handful of deputies, most of whom Earl knew by name. Heck, he’d gone to high school with Sheriff Johnson.

Who was this poor soul? How had they ended up here? And most chillingly, who had put them here? Earl’s gaze drifted to the shoreline, the familiar outline of trees and distant houses suddenly seeming sinister and full of potential hiding places.

“They’re sendin’ deputies,” Bob said, pocketing his phone. His voice sounded oddly loud in the stillness that had fallen over the lake. “Told us not to touch nothin’ and to stay put.”

Earl nodded mutely, still staring at the body. He’d lived in this town his whole life, knew just about everyone. The idea that one of his neighbors, someone he might wave to at the grocery store or chat with at the local diner, could be capable of something like this… it turned his stomach worse than any choppy waters ever had.

The two men sat in uneasy silence, the cheerful mood of earlier thoroughly shattered. The cool night air, once refreshing, now felt oppressive. Every shadow on the shore seemed to conceal potential threats, every rustle in the nearby trees a harbinger of danger.

“You think…” Bob started, then faltered. He cleared his throat and tried again. “You think it’s someone local?”

Earl shrugged, not trusting himself to speak. The truth was, he didn’t want to think about it at all. He wanted to be back home, in his warm bed, with this whole night nothing but a bad dream brought on by too much beer and greasy fish fry.

But the body remained, a grim reminder that this was all too real. Its presence seemed to grow, dominating the small boat and filling the night with unspoken horrors.

In the distance, they heard the wail of approaching sirens. Red and blue lights began to flicker through the trees lining the shore, growing brighter as they neared the lake. The familiar sounds, usually associated with the occasional traffic accident or rowdy bar fight, now carried a weight of foreboding.

“Guess this is gonna be big news,” Bob mused, his voice unnaturally loud in the quiet night. “Ain’t had a murder ‘round here since… well, I can’t even remember when.”

“Who said anythin’ about murder?” Earl snapped, more harshly than he’d intended. The word hung in the air between them, heavy and accusatory. “Could’ve been an accident. Someone fallin’ off their boat, maybe.”

But even as he said it, Earl knew he was grasping at straws. People who drowned by accident didn’t end up in the middle of the lake, weighed down and hidden from sight. The rational part of his mind, the part not clouded by shock and denial, knew that they were looking at something far more sinister.

The sirens grew louder, then cut off abruptly as several vehicles pulled up to the boat launch. Flashlight beams danced across the water, searching. The hubbub of voices carried across the water, a stark contrast to the eerie silence that had enveloped Earl and Bob.

“Over here!” Bob called out, waving his arms. His voice cracked, betraying the strain of the past few minutes.

A spotlight found them, momentarily blinding both men. Earl squinted against the glare, making out the forms of several deputies at the water’s edge. The bright light turned the lake’s surface into a shimmering mirror, broken only by the dark shape still tethered to their boat.

“Stay where you are!” a voice boomed across the water, amplified by a megaphone. “We’re coming to you!”

Minutes later, they were surrounded by law enforcement boats. Deputies swarmed over their small fishing vessel, securing the area and taking preliminary statements. The night erupted into a flurry of activity, flashlights bobbing, radios crackling, and hushed voices conferring in urgent tones.

As Earl recounted the events of the evening for what felt like the hundredth time, he couldn’t shake the feeling that everything had changed. This wasn’t just a body in the lake; it was a tear in the fabric of their small community. Secrets had a way of spreading in a town like theirs, and by sunrise, everyone would know.

He glanced at Bob, saw the same worried expression mirrored on his friend’s face. They’d come out here to escape the pressures of daily life, to laugh and fish and forget their troubles for a while. Instead, they’d stumbled upon a mystery that threatened to upend everything they knew.

As the body was carefully extracted from the water and placed in a black bag, Earl found himself wondering about the victim. Who were they? Did they have family waiting for them, wondering where they’d gone? Or were they a stranger, someone passing through who’d had the misfortune to cross paths with the wrong person?

The lake, once a source of joy and relaxation, now seemed tainted. Its waters held secrets, and not all of them were as harmless as the location of the best fishing spots.

A deputy approached, his face grim. “We’ll need you both to come down to the station to give formal statements.”

Earl nodded numbly. As he climbed into one of the police boats, leaving their fishing vessel to be towed back to shore, he cast one last look at the spot where they’d made their grisly discovery.

The lake’s surface was calm once more, moonlight dancing on gentle ripples. But beneath that serene exterior lurked unknown dangers. Earl shivered, and not just from the cool night air.

Their quiet town was about to be thrust into the spotlight, and he had a sinking feeling that this was only the beginning. Whatever had been hidden beneath the waters of Lake Thunderbird, it was hidden no longer.

As the boat sped towards shore, Earl couldn’t shake the nagging thought that life in their small Oklahoma town would never be the same again. The peaceful facade had been shattered, and who knew what other secrets might come bubbling to the surface in the days to come?

He glanced at Bob, saw his own unease reflected in his friend’s eyes. They’d set out for a night of fishing and laughter, but they’d ended up opening a Pandora’s box of trouble.

Whatever came next, Earl knew one thing for certain: their little slice of rural paradise would never feel quite so innocent again. The dark waters of Lake Thunderbird had given up one secret, but as the flashing lights of the police boats cut through the night, Earl couldn’t help but wonder how many more remained hidden in the depths.