Movement caught my eye. Just a shifting of colors, shadows. Browns, greens, black. There – the soldier – gone. Disappeared into the trees. It happened so fast it barely registered in my mind. Had it been my imagination playing tricks on me?
“Hey, Maggie, did you see that?” I shouted over the hum of the trolling motors.
“Shh! I didn't see anything. Keep your voice down.”
The response struck me odd; however, I honored her wish. Keeping an eye on the treeline, I followed Maggie diagonally across the expanse to bypass the trees. I kept a lookout for the man, but just as before, I didn't see him again. I also didn't mention him as we crossed the next expanse. It reminded me of the everglades, due to the crop of Milo breaking the water's surface. It made the going slow and I feared a tangled propeller. But no such fate occurred.
We exited the crops at the next treeline. I could tell by the underbrush around the trees that the water wasn't as deep here, maybe only a foot or so. If I wasn't careful, the boat would run aground. Just as I was about to mention it to Maggie, she cut her engine. Turning, she waved for me to halt. I did, also shutting off my engine. The world became eerily quiet. A ringing echo of the motor sounded in my ears.
“Is something wrong?” I asked, wiping away sweat.
“Nah, just give me a second.”
Before I knew what was going on, she hopped out of the boat, splashing knee-deep in murky water. She wore hip waders the same as me. A thick cloud of brown churned up in the water around her.
“What the heck are you doing, Maggie?”
Ignoring my question, she took an oar and, holding it before her, drove it straight down into the water, again and again.
I sat in shock wondering what she could be doing. Killing a snake? Let is swim by, for Christ sake. Who cares?
Just as she rose from her task, a blur of green caught my peripheral vision. It crashed into her, knocking her off her feet. The soldier attacking her. Surreal. The pair splashed into the water.
“Oh shit.” I leaped out of my boat. I quickly waded over to grab the guy. Latching onto his shoulders, I realized he wasn't wearing fatigues. More like a wetsuit. I pulled hard. Maggie shoved and kicked. The man, weighing less than expected, raised quickly out of the water. It wasn't a wetsuit he wore, either, I noticed. It was his skin. Lighter in front, camouflaged on the back. He didn't wear a hood; his wide head appeared to rest right on his shoulders. Bulging black eyes peered back at me, full of hate. He grasped at me with long, thin fingers. Batting away his hand with my left arm, I drew back my right. Trip-hammer quick, I landed a fist where a nose should have been. What the hell? What was this thing? And why would it be attacking? Frustration from the last few days surged within me. Disgust of this slimy creature got my blood boiling. I landed another punch to its face.
A whistling oar sailed past my head, cracking against the creature's skull.
And then, in an astounding feat of acrobatics, the thing leaned back while shoving off with its legs. It leaped, twisting in the air up and over my jon boat, to land on all fours. Its back barely broke the surface of the water. It took another massive hop, long webbed feet trailing behind it, to land about ten yards away.
I scrambled to open my tackle box. I'd placed the 9mm there for safe keeping.
I chambered a round, clicked off the safety, aimed at the now swimming creature, legs spreading wide, powerfully coming together, propelling it efficiently away. Taking a bead on its back I timed its lurching propulsion so that at its slowest point, right before the next surge, I gently squeezed the trigger.
I missed. The small splash just behind it didn't surprise me considering the distance it had covered in such a short time. It propelled farther away, disappearing into Milo before I could fire again.
My heart pounding, I turned to Maggie. “What the hell was that?”
“There's no time to explain.”
“If you know, god, you have to tell me.”
She said, “The god you know isn't the one that exists. Now, get in your boat. Follow me. It will be back.”
She didn't have to repeat herself.
Among Neighbors
Under full throttle we made our way to the trees. Every few seconds I turned to make sure we weren't being followed. Our wake make it hard to tell. Even going all-out, our boats moved dangerously slow. And that thing could really move. I regretted having missed him with the 9mm.
Maggie's words echoed in my mind. The god you know isn't the one that exists. What did she mean by that? Of course that implied denouncement of a Christian god. Lots of people didn't have faith. It didn't bother me that people possessed different believe systems. That's why it is referred to as having faith. She obviously didn't have faith in Christendom. I did.
However, the undertone of her statement was that a god did exist. It also implied this so-called god somehow played into the attack of a few shocking minutes ago. Did she mean the devil? No. She had meant something else entirely. My mind swam, unable to form the most implausible theories.
When we reached the last of the fields we throttled back and began to pick our way through the woods. A thin blanket of leaves, twigs, plant matter covered the surface of the water. Everywhere I looked I kept seeing the thing about to leap out at us. But I only had an over-active imagination to blame. What had I gotten myself into, I wondered.
Through the woods I could see the occasional house. Cabins on stilts, actually. Small things poorly constructed, yet not. As quarter-million dollar homes washed down the Mississippi, while my six-figure home sat waiting to become infected with mold, these structures had been built, no doubt, by the odd denizens of the Clayton area without architectural plans or building inspectors. And yet they stood defiant of Mother Nature's treachery.
That's when it dawned on me. These people knew something. Sure, the area flooded on occasion. People built on high ground. They relocated after devastating destruction. We had never received enough flooding to justify evacuation of our own home, so why would these people, not far from where I lived, have built these elevated houses?
Because they had expected the flood. They had prepared for it.
A few more inches would be fine. That's what the man on the boardwalk had said.
I could feel the acid rising in my throat along with the area's water level. Without thinking I looked up through the canopy of leaves, trying to locate a window to the sky. I caught a glimpse of a gray cloud. It very well might rain again soon. Plus with all the rain up north, the Mississippi would rise before it fell. We might indeed gain a few inches before the water began to recede. All these thoughts cultivated in me a sense of dread.
I quietly thanked God for Missy and the kids making it to St. Louis. I prayed He'd watch over them. And if He found the time to watch my back for the time being, I'd be much obliged.
Finally, we made it to Maggie's raised cabin, 4x4 with monster tires parked nearby. A man stood waiting on the porch. I could see a section cut away in the middle of the steep roof. It sagged down to a hole. We shut off our boat engines and docked. A wooden ladder led up out of the water to the covered porch.
“Who do you have with ya, Maggie?” the man asked. He had patchy wisps of dark hair on his face and head. His skin had a light tinge to it, as did hers, but not nearly as dark as the other people I'd seen.
“Roger, this is Dave Miller. Dave, meet my boyfriend, Roger Bellow.”
“Pleased to meet you,” I said, then just as quickly changed the subject. “I hate to be rude, but Maggie, what the hell happened back there?” I thumbed the direction we had come.
“We were attacked.”
“You were attacked?” Roger asked.
“No shit,” I said.
“A hybrid,” Maggie explained.
“A hybrid what?” I said.
“Hybrid man,” she replied.
“Look,” Roger said. “I appreciate you hauling supplies for Maggie. Help us unload, then you should leave.”
“I'm not going
anywhere. Not yet, anyway. I've come all this way and I'd appreciate a straight answer.”
“Do yourself a favor. Go,” he insisted.
In response, I took the tarp Maggie had bought and tossed it up to him. I started handing him lumber as I made a few points. “I'm not heading back toward that ... that thing until I know more. Besides, you folks could use help. I need some answers. Hell, I don't live far. And something just isn't right around here.”
“True.”
“Who'd have thought anyone would come to Clayton on a day like today,” Maggie said.
“You're just looking for trouble, mister.”
“I don't go looking for it. It tends to find me, whether I want it to or not.”
“Ain't that the truth.”
“Look,” I said. “I came all this way planning to help folks in need. How about we get started on your roof?”
“I don't know. Roger?”
“He'll be lucky to make it back home. Not now, anyway. Might not hurt to wait a couple hours before heading home. It's his call.”
“Then it's settled. Let's do this.”
“Besides,” Roger said. “Once he starts hearing the truth, he may decide we are all mad and head home sooner, rather than later.”
I doubted his words. We got to work.
Perched atop the cabin helping hammer support beams in place, I said, “What's this about hybrids?”
“Amphibians.”
“Humanoids.”
“What?”
“You saw it, same as me. What would you call that?”
Maggie made a good point. Damn thing had arms, legs, a head. Humanoid. Amphibian? It had slimy skin. The son of a bitch sure could swim. Jump, too. Shit. “A hybrid of what? Where'd it come from? This is unbelievable.”
“Hybrid of people.”
“Of a god.”
I huffed. “A god? What did you mean 'the god I know isn't the one that exists'? Are you trying to tell me there is a non-Christian god?”
“You saw its offspring today.”
“Yeah, right. Maybe a hybrid gator or something. Not that there are gators in Southeast Missouri. Some kinda screwed-up critter, though.”
“Fine,” Roger said. “It was a screwed-up gator. Now hand me another two-by-four.”
His voice carried a patronizing ring. But if I were him trying to explain something so far-fetched as a godly spawned being I'd be patronizing as all get-out too. His mocking, off-the-cuff remark, along with the encounter with the thing, only gave credence to the song they sang.
“You really believe all this shit, don't you?”
“Fuckin'-A.”
“It's not some country fuck roaming around in a Halloween suit? It happened so fast it was hard to tell.”
“It's all true,” Maggie said. “But you don't need to believe any of it. In fact, we'd rather you didn't believe us.”
“Oh really, why is that?”
“Because, the last thing we need is for outsiders knowing what is going on here in Clayton.”
I could relate. All small towns have their own private business. Still... I didn't know what to think.
Maggie elaborated. “You see, we've got things contained here.”
“You wish, Mags,” Roger said.
“What do you mean?”
“We are dealing with something huge, otherworldly, a god. Its breeding an army of those things you saw today.”
“There are more of them?”
“It's true,” Roger stated.
“If that's the case, then why not tell people? Hell, get more help. Get a critter hunting posse going. How many of those things are out there, anyway?”
“Hard to say.”
“To answer your question, why not tell people,” Maggie said, handing us another board, “people want to believe in a powerful being.”
“Of course. This is the Bible Belt, after all. Most people worship God.”
“In Clayton, 'god' doesn't mean the same thing.”
“That's hard to swallow.”
“Most folks around here worship It.”
“It?”
“They call it Mauz-Gurloth.”
“Fear is a powerful thing. And this thing is powerful. People worship It out of fear. Can you imagine if more people knew of It's existence? Fuck,” Roger said. “I don't even want to think about that.”
“I'm not sure I follow.”
“Look,” Roger continued, “we don't know that much about It ourselves. We do know that It's breeding an army of those fucking hybrids, and it's our responsibility to fight it.”
“If it's so damn powerful, how do you fight it?”
“Since before I was born there has been a faction of us within town who do what we can to wreak havoc with Its plans.”
Maggie cut in: “Most people are sheep. However, just as there are the hardcore worshipers – the upper echelon of the cult – there are people like us who fight it. Just like today, with the oar. I was crushing one of Its eggs.”
“You've got to be kidding me,” I said. “Eggs?”
“Its spawn come from eggs.”
“Look, Dave, no offense,” Roger said, “We appreciate your help – grab a sheet of tin for me, Mags – but you don't have to believe us. We've told you what we know, what we do. You saw the fucker with your own two eyes. We don't want or need any help – other than with the roof, of course.”
“We really do appreciate your help. The last thing we needed today was to have to repair our roof. But we've got to be prepared for the next rain.”
“It may be cloudy,” I pointed out, “but the weather report isn't calling for any more for several days, at least.”
“Trust me, it is going to rain again tonight,” Maggie said.
“Guess you were right, Mags. I really should trim the limbs over the house.”
“Told you so.”
“I don't know what to say,” I replied. “This is all so incredible.”
“If I were you, I wouldn't believe myself, either.”
Maggie laughed at her boyfriend.
“I can't believe how nonchalant the two of you are about all this.” My mind was swimming. If I wasn't careful, I'd get dizzy. The last thing I needed was to plummet off this roof.
“We grew up with all this.”
“Not that it makes it much easier.”
“Especially knowing our work is just getting started.”
“What do you mean?”
“Tonight will be very important –”
“As will every night until the water recedes.”
“Why?”
“Mauz-Gurloth summoned the rains, the flooding.”
“And now Its followers will be reveling in their god's glory.”
“Tonight there shall be a great ceremony.”
Suddenly, I slipped. Roger reached out and grabbed my arm before I could slide off the roof.
“Careful there buddy. We ain't quite finished yet. We'd hate for you to break your neck on our account.”
“Save that for the hybrid on my way home, huh?”
I didn't mean it funny. Nobody laughed. We all grew serious, quiet. I helped with the remaining sheets of tin, finishing up the patchwork on the roof. When we were safely on the porch drying off sweat, drinking water, I asked, “Do you know where this ceremony is supposed to take place?”
“We have a pretty good idea,” Roger answered. “We keep watch on Its followers.”
“Then let's keep watch,” I said. “If this shit is going on this close to my home, I've gotta see.”
“You're good people, Dave Miller,” Maggie said.
I didn't know about that. But I did know that I needed to better understand things before I'd ever let Missy and the kids come back home. And believe me, I did want them to come home again. An empty place in my heart had already started to form. I also knew if there was a God, a Christian one like I believed, I needed to confront anyone or anything that challenged His existence, at least long enough to verify what
I'd been taught. Although I hadn't been the best Christian I could have been, I took this as a test of faith.
The implications frightened me to the core.
Beyond Reason
We celebrated a repaired roof and new friendships with beers and burgers. We all ate too much. Our talk, carefully steered by Maggie, in retrospect, never once turned to the flood, gods, or its spawn. Instead we discussed my family in surprising detail. It felt good doing so. As for Maggie and Roger, they were high-school sweethearts who had shacked up right after graduation. We spent a good part of the late afternoon talking about nothing at all. I guess the stress of the last couple days had finally caught up with me. Maggie suggested we rest. Slipping into unconsciousness came easier than I'd have imagined. I suspect beer had a little to do with that. When we woke the sun had sunk behind trees, its burning orange glow setting the woods aflame.
“Are you sure you want to come with us?” Roger asked.
“It'll be safer for you to return home,” Maggie said.
“How can I head home after what you've told me? No, I was born and bred in Missouri, if you're gonna lay something this heavy on me and expect me to believe it, first you're going to have to show me.”
“Suit yourself,” Roger said. “You'll never be able to un-see it, though.”
“Let's do this,” I replied, noticing my internal skepticism, yet feeling the clamminess of my palms.
While Roger gathered up some supplies in their tiny cabin: a crossbow, a frog gigger, knives, flashlights, and canteens, Maggie said, “I suggest you grab your gun. You won't wanna use it unless you absolutely need to – the sound will carry too far.”
“Understood.”
“We'll take only one boat. It will be easier that way.”
“Let me get my stuff.”
“We wear mesh head cover. Camoflage hunting gear. Helps keep away mosquitoes, as well as concealing our identity. I keep a few extra in case one rips. I’ll grab you one.”
From Murky Depths Page 2