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 asshole.”

“You’re right. Sorry.”

“If anything, you’re the asshole. 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 . . .”

“They fucked the fish monsters.”

“They what?” asked Philip.

“Yeah, how does that even work?” added Vance.

“I don’t know,” she replied, “but they figured it out. And the deep one DNA eventually started turning people into fish monsters, too, and more and more citizens swam out to sea, never to return. Probably would’ve happened to everyone, except at some point the government got wise and stepped in. Raided the town, using Prohibition as a pretense, killed everyone who had too much fish in them.

“But they left some behind, people who were still more human than not. The town renounced the deep ones, and everyone tried to forget about it. Most of the citizens left. But there were still some who had enough deep one in them that they couldn’t leave the bay, couldn’t abandon the sea. They stayed behind, trying to move on as best they could. Waiting for the deep ones to return. Anticipating their return, but dreading it at the same time.”

“And now they’re back,” said Philip.

“To have sex with us,” said Vance.

An ominous silence filled the cellar.

“We were all thinking it,” said Vance.

“That didn’t mean you had to say it,” said Philip.

The cellar door creaked as it slowly opened. They searched for a place to hide, but there was none. A pair of deep ones lumbered down the stairs. They moved with the same shuffling gait the citizens of Clam Bay possessed. The flashlight and their glowing eyes mixed to form a putrid illumination, allowing Philip his first clear glimpse of the monsters. The resemblance to the citizens of Clam Bay was rather obvious. From the walk to the slack-jawed expression to the only slightly more scaly skin. If anything, the deep ones seemed less monstrous because they were fully monsters, not caught in some halfway genetic dead end.

Despite his best efforts, his glance fell across the lead creature’s groin. They seemed to lack the necessary equipment for blood mingling, but maybe they were more fish than human. He was no expert, but he thought fish reproduce by laying eggs and then the male would come along and deposit his contribution. If that was the way this was going to work, he supposed he could handle it.

A thunderclap rattled the house. The first thunderclap Philip had heard in Clam Bay. And possibly the last. The lights flicked back on, revealing the