Part 2 (conclusion): Star on the Shore

18 Aug 1921: Dinner was a bit awkward trying to talk with other guests around the table. Who to trust? Thus, our quiet attempts to talk around the topics we’d each researched. Finally, dinner wrapping up around 6:30pm and the other guests pushing away from the table to retreat to their rooms. Sarah clearing the table and thus in the kitchen. Finally a chance to open up, “So you went to the quarry and asked about the meteor? Did you happen to ask about the star falling into the bay as the newspaper reported?” And that’s when we learned we weren’t exactly alone; the downs-syndrome boy Tommy chiming in, “I saw it fall. And those men and things dragging something out of the water. Froggies and yellow-shirts pulling that huge octopus ashore. The reverend directing them. I drew their pictures; I can show you later.” And with that, he and Ethan ran out the door to play. As if talking about monsters and frogmen wasn’t that big a deal. Kids…and their imaginations…and their purity of souls. Just what DID he see?

Victoria making the mistake of asking Sarah, “Your nephew was just telling us about something he saw near the bay. Did you happen to see it too?” Sarah surprised, “The boys were out at night? Near the water?! How many times must I warn him…” Homer trying to quickly change the topic, “I noticed you have a lot of pictures throughout the house.” Sarah describing how Craig O’Casey had sold the lot for cheap. Homer going one step further, showing his recent purchase of the sacrificial offering. “That’s awful. Who would paint such a thing, let alone who would buy it?” Homer sheepishly covering it back up. Tori asking, “Is there a Gabriel in town? No? What about the churches?” Sarah becoming agitated at all the questions, “I’m a Universalist. That other church is nothing but heathens. If you’ll excuse me, Tommy has some explaining to do.”

It’s 7:30pm when we step outside into the thick fog. A decision to visit the VFW. We all can hear more than see crows sitting in the trees following our every move. Creepy. Foghorns causing the hair on our arms to stand. Just spooky. We pass the shapes of buildings till a washed-out light presents the sign, “All Veterans Welcomed.” Inside the VFW: its own fog of thick cigar smoke, a small bar offering tea and coffee, walls filled with painting depicting the Great-War battle scenes (the colonel prominent in most). The colonel and other old-timers engaged in loud retelling of their war encounters. A hush at the sound of the door opening, a once-over look at us, then back to their stories.

When we approach, the colonel pauses to welcome us, especially once he notices Dr. Pieter’s own war ribbons. “So, you fought in the Boer wars? Ah, the Great-Wars’ Africa campaign. Jolly good as those Brits like to say. The rest of you are welcome too. Care for a cigar or cigarette?” Tori accepting a ciggie as she flicks open her lighter (her brother’s with his Italian regiment stamp purposefully displayed). “So you served in the nurses corp? Oh, your brother’s lighter. Hope he was alive to give it to you.” Tori taking the opportunity, “Earlier today I noticed you measuring your steps along the street. Is it too much to ask why?” The colonel obviously surprised as he almost chokes on his cigar. He then awkwardly addresses his fellow veterans, “We’ll continue tomorrow. Goodnight.”

“Careful what you say around town. Those meteor people will go to any length to silence you. Church of the Enlightenment and their yellow robes. Ahh, so you’re familiar with them; a cult in Boston you don’t say. I haven’t seen any statues, but then I only stumbled onto the tunnels weeks ago when the cemetery keeper Lump told me about then. How the yellow robes enter a particular mausoleum. That red-barn Alexander is one of them. The sheriff too. Anyway, there’s 3 tunnel branches at the cemetery. As you suspected, I found one going east to that church and further to the Bradley fishery. There’s a branch south from the church and south of the cemetery I’ve yet to explore. Count my steps below then retrace them above. Almost caught yesterday; hid while some robes walked by. Maybe we can combine forces; I’ll show you tomorrow, 9am sharp.” We retire to the B&B where Homer and the professor experience a restless night of nightmarish dreams. Their rooms furnished with a red barn painting.

HOMER'S DREAM

JIM'S DREAM

19 Aug 1921: A bloodshot-eyed Homer stumbling in for morning breakfast, “Damned dream. Strange figure rising out of the sea…as Tommy described. And like the statue we seek. The creature flying in and out of the bay lighthouse beams. It sundering one lighthouse as the other beam desperately tried to follow. As if the creature avoided the light. Till giant waves smashed the last lighthouse as if commanded by the creature.” No sooner does he finish his story than Tommy delivers his promised drawings, drawing Homer’s attention, “That was it!”

Since Anna and the professor want to return to the library for more research, the others visit the VFW to convince the colonel to delay his tunnel search. So much for 9am sharp; the colonel still in his nightshirt. So idle conversation, “Gabriel? Hummm. Come to think of it, that is Sam Rahn’s son.” Meanwhile, at the library, Anna researching old newspapers while Jim seeks local legends. Finding the 1690 story of the Witchhouse and other oddities. But Anna finding the glaring absence of ANY quarry news…as if redacted. Only an add for those “Seeking enlightenment.”

All rejoin at the city courthouse where the clerk Nash directs Tori to the records of old city maps (no history of tunnels ever dug even in the revolutionary war). Anna mentioning church records has Nash furtively looking around for any other customers before finding and handing her a ledger…with a quickly written note attached, “7:30 tonight. 224 School Street.” Quizzical looks before pocketing the note then a study of the ledger: only the two oldest churches remain. The others having closed, being lined out. A second look has professor Jim asking, “What can you tell me about the lack of #6?” A nervous Nash quickly biding us goodbye with a whispered reminder, “7:30.”

Lump is a mountain of a man, leading us to the appointed mausoleum. The colonel coordinating, “About an hour. Expect the same knock signal (shave and a haircut).” A metal ladder descending into darkness. And the slam of the mausoleum door putting us in pitch-black. Nervous moments till flashlights pierce the void. Pause to put on galoshes and waders as we step into about 2 inches of brackish water. The colonel setting a slow pace south as he counts. Almost an hour of tedious splashing has Homer at the breaking point, “Can’t we hurry it up?!” Finally a dead-end circular chamber with a ladder going up. 252 steps; about the same count to the church. A now impatient claustrophobic Homer, “To hell with backtracking, let’s climb the ladder to exit and find our bearings.” The wise colonel calming the nervous lad, “Patience is valor.”

We backtrack where the colonel exits at the cemetery as we continue along the northwest branch. At a quicker pace to appease Homer. The water slowly getting deeper…a half-foot…over 700 steps…the water over a foot deep…923 steps when we finally reach another circular chamber (with a branch to the northwest?). The ladder rusty and frail. Water drips from the trapdoor above. Are we near the quarry? Anna climbs but cannot hear anything nor budge the trapdoor. Tori being the next lightest (worried about the rusted ladder), climbs and succeeds in opening the door…to the sound of waves. She climbs out to a small island surrounded by waves…they are in the middle of the bay! “So much for northwest. The tunnel angled north without us realizing.”

As the others climb, the ladder gives way on the doctor. No rope to aid the others; Anna takes Tori’s trenchcoat belt to tie the ladder in place. As Tori scans the horizon with her hunting scope, the others search the small island, “I’ve got webbed tracks over here! Bigger than Homer’s print.” We re-enter the tunnel going northwest soon void of water. 266 paces till another circular chamber (with 2 branches). Anna climbs to ladder to then put her finger to her lips for quiet, “Voices. Man and woman.” And that’s when the others hear a shuffling noise coming from the tunnel we just traversed!

Flashlights off, whispers, “Don’t move…I’d hate to blast you with my shotgun.” Stealth to remain hidden. Guttural noises as something reaches for the ladder and begins to climb then scratch at the trapdoor. Then light flooding thru the open door reveals the monstrous frogman. Tori (12 gauge shotgun) and the doctor (38 pistol) firing but missing due to range and the blinding light. A handsome man dressed in yellow peers down as he mumbles…Tori gasping at the taste of seawater (having succeeded POW versus casting of ‘Breath of the Deep’). With the light from above, Homer lets loose with his tommygun (Brrr…Brrr...Brrr). Extreme damage disembowels the frogman, raining guts on poor Anna below. The professor getting off an errant shot before the trapdoor slams shut and locked.

Tori climbing the ladder to blast the lock, interrupted by the announcement, “More shuffling from the tunnel!” A yellow-robed cultist escorts 2 frogmen. Homer raising his tommy…click…jam (rolled 00). Mumbling precedes Anna grasping her throat, gagging on seawater. Sanity check as she realizes she’s drowning. Another missed shot before one-each frogman attacks Dr. Pieter and Tori. Who dodge. Tori blasting her assailant at close range with her sawed-off 12 gauge: dead. Homer advancing with his tommy as a club. So many errant shots while Anna is drowning. Homer stumbling backwards from a major wound slash across his leg. Tori shooting at the cultist before the professor attacks with his knife: the caster dropping his ceremonial sword as he falls, dying. And Anna no longer gagging on seawater. Jim watches the caster’s last breath…thru gills on his neck!

Meanwhile, the last frogman is relentless, slashing claws across the doctor’s left arm. Once again Homer swings his club only to see the frogman block it with his forearm to then rake his claw across Homer’s chest…who falls. At least Anna gets the creature to backup as she squirts her pepper-spray. Which gives the Doctor room to advance and treat his patient. And time for Jim to pick up the ceremonial sword and attack the creature: dead. Homer stabilized but too weak for a long trek back thru the tunnels. Which forces Tori to climb the ladder and blast the trapdoor lock.

They enter a deserted basement except for the queen-size bed and desk. A yellow robe and slinky black dress laid across the bed. A journal found inside the desk…after Jim pries open the lock. All rush up the stairs…into the front of a church. Empties pews and door thrown open suggest occupants quickly ended services and exited. The placard outside the building reads “Pigeon Cove Chapel.” The professor already out the door and inside an abandoned car where he pulls down the visor. With keys in hand, “Don’t just stand there, we gotta go. NOW!”

CHIEF STODDARD

A pause at the road fork to let Anna dip in the bay to cleans herself of the frogman gore. Then the backroad past the train-station till Jim lets the others out to walk back to the B&B. He then returns to the station to abandon the car. Except…sirens. The police car blocking him in, “Hey, where’d you get that car? It’s the reverends.” The professor accentuating his British twang sounding apologetic, “Oh my, I’m sorry. My friend fell as we walked the shoreline and cut his leg on clam shells. I saw this car and took it to rush my friend back to the doctor.” Excuses…the police haul him in for more questioning. Where chief Stoddard picks up the questioning, “What were you doing on quarry property? Sticking your snotty nose where it don’t belong. I suggest you go tell your friends yall best be gone outa my town by tomorrow. If you know what’s best!”

Back at the B&B, the doctor treats Homer with patient care. Anna finally has time to read the journal. A story that begins 100 years ago…two statues (one 2 feet, the other 20 feet tall). “When the children align and call to him.” The smaller statue stolen but later recovered from Peru by Sam Rahn in 1912. The statue lost again when police raided the Boston chapel where it was displayed. Notes how Gabriel broke the reverend Thomas out of prison only to then cast, turning Thomas into half-man/half-frogman. A servant of their demonic lord. “All his children trapped on earth under the sea.” Then the date of the meteor…dated before the actual event…as if it were foretold. And spells listed at the back of the journal. Anna’s occult senses pinging off the charts.

The professor finally returns to the B&B to report, “So we have less than 24 hours to do something else face the police and the cultists. What are we waiting for?” First a façade: we stop at the train station to buy us outbound tickets on tomorrow’s noon run. The teller smirking as she recognizes our announced names to be printed on the tickets. Another cultist member. We then stop at the Sandy Bar café for dinner. Tori and Anna excusing themselves to “powder our noses” a ruse as they exit the backdoor to run to the VFW to tell the colonel all we’ve learned. He confirming the train-station one of the tunnel exits. They return to the café.

As we calmly finish dinner, Homer suddenly has a realization. In hushed tone, “Dr. Pieter, give me that city map you bought.” He begins marking locations, “There it is! Notice the tunnel exits’ spacing and alignment. A match of the star paintings I told you about. There is another tunnel exit under the quarry.” We exit for our appointment 7:30 meeting down the road. Not certain what to expect: the armed doc and prof watching the backdoor, while the armed Tori and Homer watch the front as Anna climbs the steps to knock at the door. Shuffling and crashing noises from inside. Anna knocks: silence. Moments later the backdoor crashing open as two yellow-robed men rush out only to come face-to-barrel with drawn guns. “Let’s step back inside to see what’s going on.” The pompous men confidently retorting, “You’re gonna regret this.”

The doctor calls the other inside, where they find blood splatters up and down the walls. A slain Nash prone on the floor. The good doctor incredulous at the brutality; Nash’s eyes carved out. As Homer ties the men up to dining chairs, the doctor calmly places his medical bag on the table and begins slowly retrieving sharp medical instruments, “Let’s see what we can get out of you…besides your guts.” Kevin’s confident face now ashen with fright, “Reverend Gabriel sent us. His spy saw Nash pass you a note. ‘Prying eyes’ as the reverend said, had to be removed. Statues? They’re under the quarry chapel.” The other cultist Michael tries to put up a hardened front. Till Homer blindfolds him and begins running the tommygun barrel across his crotch. Then smashes the gun butt against Michael’s hand grasping the chair arm. The names of accomplices spills forth, “the laundry worker, the art dealer, the police chief and deputy, the train ticket woman, etc. They’ve been sacrificing one artist a day for weeks now. Awaiting the day till the Star arises from another dimension.”

And that’s when Anna sees flashing police lights turning down the street, “We gotta go.” We rush out the back door; Homer the last to leave, but not before “Blam, blam.” We circle thru the alleys to the painter’s tent city to blend in. The sound of police sirens wail throughout the streets. Time for Anna to formulate a plan, “Doc, you put on the yellow robe and I’ll be the next sacrifice. We enter the tunnels at the Barkley fishery to then make our way to the quarry chapel. Whatever we find, let’s end this tonight.”

Flashlights dance along the tunnel walls as we pass the church exit, then turn at the cemetery chamber, to head north toward the island. Sounds of approach…2 robes cultists. The doc pulling his hood lower as he announces his presence, “Another sacrifice.” The cultists respond, “Brother.” As the look at the rest of us without robes, “And what about you?” Tori quickly concocting, “Sister Sally at the laundry. Washer broke again. Couldn’t wait for our robes.” A successful B.S.

We continue to the island then turn for the quarry office. Where we exit to break into the quarry dynamite shack. Sticks and fuses stuffed into every available pocket. Then back to the office and into the tunnel toward the quarry. A dip into a lower chamber with other tunnels rising outward…a water trap much like a kitchen “U” trap. The tunnel opens unto a huge 30 foot tall chamber. The 20 ft statue center stage with a pit before it. Chains and manacles over the pit to hold a human sacrifice. Speaking of which…5 cages to the side. 3 occupied: a Joyce, a Betty Jones as listed in the paper, and Roy. The poor hysterical man blubbering nonsense as he claws at anyone approaching.

Tori pulls out her camera to collect evidence. The doctor works to release the captives (has to club Roy who has to be carried out). The others setting the dynamite around the statue and inside the water-trap area in hopes of flooding the chamber. Long fuses. As the doctor begins to light the fuses, the rest of us have already begun moving down the tunnels. Hope to be far away. But noooo…first a “BOOM” then shockwave that knocks us off our feet. An unearthly scream. The doctor/Anna/Homer turning to look back toward the explosion. Where they see a huge demonic creature being sucked skyward, pulled like taffy, thru what can only be described as another dimension. Surely “Bouts of Madness” await.

It’s a scrambling tumble backtracking thru the tunnels as we make our way to the train-station. Where the professor hot-wires an available car. We all jump in to then speed away, up the rise and out of the fog, giving one last look at Rockport in our rearview mirror. And that’s when crows begin diving on the car, pecking at the canvas top. Jim stomping on the accelerator to leave them behind.

Epilogue:

Gabriel, with his mistress at his side, calls his congregation to order, “Silence. While we have suffered a setback, our sect is still intact. What’s another hundred years to prepare for the great-ones’ coming. We have work to do.” As he stands beside the altar, with ceremonial dagger in hand, he raises the blade over the restrained form of the police chief, “Now let us begin anew with the sacrifice of the overconfident one who let those intruders live too long.”

The blade sinking deep as the altar grooves channel the blood into awaiting bowls. Gabriel chanting over the body and blood, “Now let the appointed ones come forward to drink. So they might gain the vision of where the intruders ran off to. Allow them to hunt them down. And perform more sacrifices in the name of the old ones.”