Logan sat on the edge of his boat, rod in hand, the quiet hum of the water surrounding him as he fished. The bottle of Jack Daniels sat within arm's reach, and Johnny Cash's voice drifted from the radio, mixing with the peaceful ripples. His mind wandered, lost in thoughts as the sun dipped lower in the sky.

He cast his line into the deep, feeling the pull of the calm lake beneath him. But then, something caught his eye. A shadow beneath the water. It wasn’t a fish. No, this was something else, something massive. He narrowed his eyes, squinting into the depths as the water shifted.

The shape of a car—an old, rusted thing—sat at the bottom of the lake, the lights still reflecting faintly in the murky water. Inside, a figure was slumped against the wheel, unmoving.

Logan's grip on the rod tightened, his brow furrowing. A dumbass car and some poor bastard trapped inside it. He didn't move, didn't even blink. He just stared, taking in the sight with a quiet, incredulous shake of his head.