Teamwork

Written for the Daily Flash Fiction Challenge with a word limit of 300.

The prompts: This story must contain the words: sharp, lake and crimson

Teamwork

“Keep a sharp eye on ya, Lad. It’s the buffalo fish that she be attracted to. But in a pinch, a young boy like yerself will do just as well. This is no place for a tiny sprout to be hanging around.”

Crazy old potato, Patrick thought. I’ll show him.

Everyone knew of the old wives tale. The Lake Monster was just one of many such stories that had sprung up since The Great Upheaval. The problem was, some of them were true; in fact, many were.

Ever since the Genetic Wars had swept across the planet, nothing was as it had once been. Up was still up and two plus two still equaled four. But other than those, and a few other examples, things were different.

Patrick stood at the end of the pier, staring out at the red float bobbing only a hundred yards from the shore. No one knew why it was there. It just was. One day, no float and the next, well …

For months, there had been speculation. The most interesting theories had to do with the Lake Monster. Some said it was marking its territory. Others said it was trolling for people. So far there had been no takers – none curious enough to risk the swim.

Until Patrick.

He made it ten feet before disappearing amidst a frantic boiling of the lake’s surface. A crimson spot showed up on the surface a few moments later; almost as an afterthought to the event.

The lake sent out its thanks.

The old man never blinked. He sucked on his pipe hiding the euphoria that was sweeping through him. She fed and he felt the pleasure as it raced up the nearly invisible umbilical leading from the lake to where it was attached to his ankle.

Word count 300