The Ghost Lake's Rule: No Smiths, No Exceptions - Chapter 4: Chapter 4
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As soon as those words left his mouth, the lake suddenly whipped up a fierce wind.
A thunderous roar split the dark clouds overhead, and torrential rain began pouring down instantly.
The boat lurched violently again, and everyone aboard gripped chairs or posts for dear life, terrified of being thrown into the lake.
After steadying myself with effort, I moved step by step toward Dex, my gaze sharp and my voice ominous: "You're the one named Smith."
Dex was clutching a post tightly and immediately denied it: "What are you talking about! I'm not named Smith—you clearly checked my ID!"
He was lying.
From our earlier discussion, everyone else was worried about who might be named Smith.
Only Dex had tried to shift attention to me, because he was afraid everyone would push the real Smith overboard!
"Whether you're a Smith or not, we'll find out by testing."
Seeing me take another step closer, Dex panicked: "What the hell are you trying to do!"
"Push you overboard. If you're a Smith, the rest of us can live!"
I raised my hand to grab Dex, and he roared: "You're talking about murder!"
"It's life or death—can't worry about niceties now."
I grabbed Dex's arm and started dragging him toward the boat's edge.
Dex was so scared he started crying, practically wanting to sit down on the deck and throw a tantrum: "I'm not named Smith! It's really not me! If you kill me and you're wrong, you'll have an innocent person's blood on your hands!"
I stopped and turned to look at him.
Thinking he'd convinced me, he broke into a relieved smile.
"Compared to a whole boat full of lives, being wrong is still better than everyone dying."
His smile instantly froze on his face.
I seized the moment and yanked hard.
Caught off guard, Dex was pulled to the boat's edge, lost his balance, and suddenly tumbled toward the water.
"Ahhhhh—"
With a blood-curdling scream, his waist slammed hard against the boat's rail before he flipped over and fell into the lake.
Strangely, there was no splash, no instinctive cries for help, no thrashing—just a muffled plop, then complete silence.
Everyone looked over to see only raindrops creating ripples on the pitch-black surface—nothing else.
The boat stopped rocking, and the rain began to ease up.
Seeing this, everyone sat down on the deck and breathed heavy sighs of relief.
"So it really was him. Don't know how he managed to change his name to get on board—almost got us all killed."
"What kind of person does that? We said no Smiths allowed, but he insisted on boarding and nearly got us all killed!"
"Exactly! Thank God the captain was smart enough to figure out who the Smith was, or we'd all be dead."
"Finally safe. I thought I was gonna die here."
The passengers chattered among themselves.
But my expression remained grave.
Seeing this, Marcus frowned and asked: "What's wrong, Freya? Something still not right?"
Indeed, something was still very wrong—the dark clouds remained ominous, the black fog hadn't completely lifted, and the lake surface wasn't clear.
I tried starting the boat, and it still wouldn't move.
Damn it, the female ghost was still here!
I'd already thrown her a Smith—why wasn't she leaving?
Unless... that man wasn't actually named Smith at all!
This was bad!
My heart jumped in alarm, and I immediately shouted to the crowd—
"The Smith is still on the boat!"
A thunderous roar split the dark clouds overhead, and torrential rain began pouring down instantly.
The boat lurched violently again, and everyone aboard gripped chairs or posts for dear life, terrified of being thrown into the lake.
After steadying myself with effort, I moved step by step toward Dex, my gaze sharp and my voice ominous: "You're the one named Smith."
Dex was clutching a post tightly and immediately denied it: "What are you talking about! I'm not named Smith—you clearly checked my ID!"
He was lying.
From our earlier discussion, everyone else was worried about who might be named Smith.
Only Dex had tried to shift attention to me, because he was afraid everyone would push the real Smith overboard!
"Whether you're a Smith or not, we'll find out by testing."
Seeing me take another step closer, Dex panicked: "What the hell are you trying to do!"
"Push you overboard. If you're a Smith, the rest of us can live!"
I raised my hand to grab Dex, and he roared: "You're talking about murder!"
"It's life or death—can't worry about niceties now."
I grabbed Dex's arm and started dragging him toward the boat's edge.
Dex was so scared he started crying, practically wanting to sit down on the deck and throw a tantrum: "I'm not named Smith! It's really not me! If you kill me and you're wrong, you'll have an innocent person's blood on your hands!"
I stopped and turned to look at him.
Thinking he'd convinced me, he broke into a relieved smile.
"Compared to a whole boat full of lives, being wrong is still better than everyone dying."
His smile instantly froze on his face.
I seized the moment and yanked hard.
Caught off guard, Dex was pulled to the boat's edge, lost his balance, and suddenly tumbled toward the water.
"Ahhhhh—"
With a blood-curdling scream, his waist slammed hard against the boat's rail before he flipped over and fell into the lake.
Strangely, there was no splash, no instinctive cries for help, no thrashing—just a muffled plop, then complete silence.
Everyone looked over to see only raindrops creating ripples on the pitch-black surface—nothing else.
The boat stopped rocking, and the rain began to ease up.
Seeing this, everyone sat down on the deck and breathed heavy sighs of relief.
"So it really was him. Don't know how he managed to change his name to get on board—almost got us all killed."
"What kind of person does that? We said no Smiths allowed, but he insisted on boarding and nearly got us all killed!"
"Exactly! Thank God the captain was smart enough to figure out who the Smith was, or we'd all be dead."
"Finally safe. I thought I was gonna die here."
The passengers chattered among themselves.
But my expression remained grave.
Seeing this, Marcus frowned and asked: "What's wrong, Freya? Something still not right?"
Indeed, something was still very wrong—the dark clouds remained ominous, the black fog hadn't completely lifted, and the lake surface wasn't clear.
I tried starting the boat, and it still wouldn't move.
Damn it, the female ghost was still here!
I'd already thrown her a Smith—why wasn't she leaving?
Unless... that man wasn't actually named Smith at all!
This was bad!
My heart jumped in alarm, and I immediately shouted to the crowd—
"The Smith is still on the boat!"
End of The Ghost Lake's Rule: No Smiths, No Exceptions Chapter 4. Continue reading Chapter 5 or return to The Ghost Lake's Rule: No Smiths, No Exceptions book page.