Chapter Eighteen
Things were looking up in Clam Bay just then. The front door jingled again, just as the lights flickered on and off. It wasn't uncommon during a fierce storm. "You two stay put, " said Vance. "I'll check who it is. " "Thanks, " said Philip. Vance left as the lights continued to flicker. "Wiring, " said Philip to Angela. "We're still working on it. So I'm glad you stopped by. " "Yeah. Me, too. " They shared a smile. The lights went out. Given the darkness of Clam Bay nights, he expected nothing but black. But there was a soft green light coming from the foyer. Vance screamed, but the sound was cut short. Philip and Angela ran to see what had happened. It was hard to discern details. Vance was on the floor, groaning. And something stood over him. Something with large eyes that radiated an unearthly emerald glow. "What the--" started Philip. Silent lightning flashed, and the person, the creature because there was no other word for it, was illuminated, just for a moment. The thing was hunched, gray-skinned. It had a huge head with a gaping mouth. And frills on the side of that head extended as a strangled hiss rose out of its throat. Philip didn't hear the sound, though. He was too busy looking out the windows, where shadows lurched. At least four or five of them. And each one sported those same unearthly eyes. He stood transfixed, unable to move. It wasn't terror that held him. Terror was too tangible. Terror was overwhelming. But this strange creature, even mostly hidden in shadow, was simply the unknowable. It was the intangible made real, and there was no easy way to absorb it. So he just stood there and gaped, even as the creature menaced Vance. Angela rushed forward. The monster lurched at her. She seized it by the hand, spun into it, and did some kind of kung fu move that happened so fast, the creature was thrown to the ground before Philip even knew it happened. The fish creature shrieked, flopping around on its back. The creatures outside joined in on the gruesome dirge.
She yanked Vance off the ground and dragged him back to Philip. The front door pushed open, and the bell jingled as several more creatures entered. "Is there a back door?" asked Angela. When neither Philip or Vance replied, she grabbed Philip by the shirt and shook him. "Your back door, Phil!" "Uh . . . In the back, " he replied. She pulled both the men with her as she moved toward the exit. They didn't get far. Three other creatures must have slipped in the back and blocked the way. There was no way out. The creatures' raspy breathing and eerie green glow alerted them in time to avoid stumbling into an ambush. In the foyer, something was smashed to the floor. "My vases, " said Vance. But he said it the fancy way, the way Europeans did. Philip wondered why it had taken him so long to figure out Vance was g*y. Then he wondered about the stereotyping and how absurd it was. Then he realized how absurd it was to think about this while the creatures from the Black Lagoon were about to eat him alive. But that was kind of the point. It was easier to think about something stupid than about the alternative, pressing as it might be. "The cellar, " whispered Vance. "We can hide in the cellar. " Philip had always hated the cellar. It was musty and dank. But it was the only choice as the creatures closed in on the kitchen. They went down. Angela had the good sense not to let the trap door slam. Vance had spent a week organizing the cellar, so even though it was dark, there was little to trip over. Vance moved like a cat. At least, Philip assumed Vance did. It was hard to tell in the darkened cellar. But Vance managed to retrieve a flashlight without making a lot of noise. He flicked it on, covering it with his hand to keep the light low. They said nothing as the creatures trod over their heads. They watched the trap door, waiting for it to open, waiting for the monsters to come down and devour them. But after a few minutes, the creaking stopped and the raspy breathing faded. They still didn't speak for another five minutes after that. "What the hell are those?" Vance finally asked, so softly Philip almost didn't hear him. "Are those monsters?" His voice rose. "Are those f**king monsters?"
"Deep ones, " said Angela. "What the hell is a--" "Just a story, " she said. "Not even that. " "What's that supposed to mean?" She wiped her brow. "It's hard to explain. You know how every small town has a story? Clam Bay is no different. " "I'd say it's different, " whispered Philip through clenched teeth. "I'd say it's very goddamn different. " The floor creaked, and they were quiet again. Angela leaned forward, the flashlight casting eerie shadows on her face, making this seem like a ghost story told around a campfire. Except the ghosts were real, and it wasn't some dumb kid ready to jump out and yell "Boo" when you got to the scary part. No, it was an actual monster that was going to jump out. "A long time ago, " she said in a low, low voice, "back before Clam Bay was Clam Bay. Back when it went by another name, the people made a pact with the ancient god who waits in the depths of the ocean. " "What's he waiting for?" asked Vance. "Nobody knows, " replied Angela. "Then how do they know he's waiting?"
"That's hardly important at this moment, " said Philip. "Well, she brought it up, " said Vance. "Will you just shut up about the waiting?" Vance glared. "You don't have to raise your voice at me like I'm the ass**le. " "You're right. Sorry. " "If anything, you're the ass**le. If you hadn't come up with this Band-B idea in the first place--" "I know, " said Philip. "I'm just asking a question, trying to get a handle on the situation--" "Holy hell, Vance. I've already apologized. What the hell more do you want from me?"
"Are you sure you two aren't a couple?" asked Angela. "Just finish your story, " said Philip. "There's not much more to tell. The deep ones came as servants of the sea god. They offered secrets of power and immortality, and the people took them up on it. I'd rather not get into the details. " "What details?" asked Vance. Angela paused. "They're not important. " "Maybe there's a clue to what these things want, " said Philip. "I hope not, " she mumbled to herself, though they both heard. Caught, she was overpowered by their intent stares. "Okay, but you aren't going to like it. They . . . Uh . . . I believe the term used is mingled their blood. " "You mean, they cut themselves?" asked Philip. "Like when kids make themselves blood brothers?" "Uh . . . No. " "Oh my God. Don't tell me that they ate people. " She shook her head. "Then how did they . . . "