The creature was indistinct in the dark night. A howl split the air, the noise somewhere between the lolling of a cow and with the shrillness of a siren. It traveled through Logan, making the fillings in his teeth hurt. If an elephant and a Tasmanian devil had a baby, it would have sounded like this, Logan thought inanely.
It began to move purposely toward them, its arms outstretched. Its eyes shone like blazing yellow neon, mesmerizing them. There was no place to hide in the tidal pool. Logan spun, pushing Elliot toward the parking lot.
“That was no turtle,” Elliot gasped.
Logan ran, his heart pumping feeling like it would jump from his chest. “Run!” he yelled.
They splashed heavily in the shallows; their feet weighted with water. Clamoring through the tide, Logan slipped, Elliot pulled him under the armpit propelling him forward. Their clothes were drenched, glued to their perspiring bodies, their feet heavy with trapped fronds and weeds. They made it onto the beach.
Logan was afraid to look behind them. “Move this way!” Logan pointed to a perimeter of shrubs lining the sand.
They took off, their arms slashed by the tall grasses. Elliot clutched his phone. He turned for a second, but Logan grabbed the back of his shirt to drag him through the reeds. “Not now, you idiot!” Logan screamed.
They could hear the heavy splashes of the creature following them. They burst out of the grasses, running at full speed onto the sandy area toward the car. The reassuring outline of the jeep greeted them at the same time a club grazed Logan’s shoulder.
Logan heard Elliot grunt with pain, the distinct sound of a fist meeting flesh echoing in the still night. Ham-sized hands gripped Logan’s shoulder, spinning him to plant a fist that landed under his right eye. The night went silent but for the sound of the roaring of the blood in his head. He felt the trickle of blood leak onto his lips after his nose connected with what felt like a brick wall. He was on his knees, looking down at two sets of biker boots, silver skulls dangling over the insteps right in front of him.
Logan caught sight of another pair of footwear, polished traditional lace-ups. He pushed himself up on all fours, reaching out and grabbing the legs connected to those shoes. He clutched a handful of beige trousers, the gabardine material slipping in his hand. He recognized the uniform. He felt rock-hard muscles underneath the pants leg. His assaulter kicked, Logan’s head snapping back to see a field of spinning stars. Their attackers were laughing. Logan was outraged.
They wouldn’t be laughing when the mermaid from hell pounced on them, he thought grogilly. He opened his mouth to let them know they were about to be surprised by the alleged wild dog or imaginary alligator but decided he’d have more satisfaction watching them wrestle with whatever was following them from the marsh.
A strong hand picked him up by the hair and another pounded his ribcage. He winced, his vision blurred, trying to see when the creature from the Black Lagoon would arrive like the cavalry.
Except that pursuer never arrived. It appeared that the monster had more brains than he and Elliot put together.
Logan listened vainly for whatever was following them to break through the marsh, but it must have been scared off. He chose that time to swing wildly, his fist finding a face that must have been hewn of stone. The impact stunned him more than the beating his ribs were taking. His arm went numb from knuckles to elbow.
His cheek landed in the dirt while Elliot was thrown against the car wheel. A baseball bat made contact with the windshield, showering them with shards of glass. The bat sailed through the air to smash the side mirror. More glass rained down on them.
Logan lay on his face, every bone in his body aching, his head heavy. He heard new footfalls, lighter one, followed by the sound of a plank of wood connecting with a body.
“Ow!” one of his attackers howled.
Next he heard several grunts, and the hard slam of bodies falling.
Logan picked up his head, his vision fuzzy to see two figures in wetsuits beating the crap out of his assailants. Tilting his head, he squeezed his eyes, discerning one was decidedly curvy and feminine. “Penny?” he asked, the word garbled by his swelling lips.
Running feet penetrated the fog that was swallowing his brain. Everything sounded muffled, as if he could barely hear it. There was a loud ringing in his ears.
“Done,” a woman’s voice came to him from far away. “Cowards,” she spat.
“What do you want to do with these too?” a male voice asked.
“Leave them. They’re harmless.”
“The boss isn’t going to be happy.”
“I said leave them,” the voice commanded.
Logan tried to rise, groaned and fell down into the wet sand. “Elliot?” his voice a thread.
“He’s coming around. We have to go!” a man’s barked.
The cold touch of a wetsuit made his skin goosebump as a person knelt next to him. He tried to roll over. Logan felt a soft hand brush back his hair. “Stop tilting at windmills, you silly man. Go back to school.” He caught sight of a smile with a mole on the upper lip.
Logan felt the blood drain from his head as it fell onto a cushion of grass.
“Did you see them?” Logan spit out a mouthful of dirt. He was sprawled on a small mound and couldn’t move.
“My eye is swollen shut,” Elliot’s voice was gravelly. “I feel like I got hit by a train. Am I imagining it, or were we rescued by the creature?”
“It wasn’t the creature.” Logan was breathless with the effort, wondering if he should share what he thought. “I think it was Aimee.”
“Aimee!” Elliot coughed. “What’s she doing here?”
Logan ignored the question; he was wondering the same thing.
Rising painfully to his knees he crawled over to where Elliot was propped against the wheel of the jeep. “Anything broken?”
“Only my pride. I feel like I’m trapped in an eighties crime drama. What are you doing?” he asked Logan, who was pulling his phone from his pocket with a battered hand.
“I’m calling the police.”
“I think that was the police,” Elliot retorted weakly. “What happened to your mermaid?”
Logan growled, “She’s not my mermaid.”
“Did you get any pictures?” Logan asked.
“Let me see with my good eye.” Elliot squinted as he looked at his screen. “Nothing good. Maybe it was one of those goons setting us up.”
Logan shrugged. “I couldn’t see much, but I know it was that monster, Mitch and his playmates,” he paused and continued, “And Aimee and some other guy.”
“You think she was working with them?”
Logan shook his head. “No, they beat the crap out of them. Mitch practically crawled out of here.”
“Are you sure it was Aimee? This is a major complication.”
Logan didn’t answer. He spoke into his phone. “Pen? Can you swing by the marsh, and Penny… don’t say anything to anyone.”
– Excerpted from Dragged Down Deep by Michael Okon, Chelshire Publishing, 2024. Reprinted with permission.
Logan Osborne has spent his life chasing the shadows of the past.
As a child, he watched helplessly as his father was snatched from a fishing boat by what he swore was a mermaid. No one believed him then. No one believes him now.
Determined to prove that mythical creatures exist, Logan is drawn back to the small coastal town where his nightmares began after another mysterious disappearance stirs the waters.
Teaming up with his pragmatic colleague Elliot Sheppard and his fiercely loyal friend Penny Swanson, Logan dives headfirst into an adventure packed with danger and deception. As they dig deeper, the trio faces resistance at every turn—a secretive agency with its own agenda, a suspiciously unhelpful police force, and Logan’s old flame, who may know more than she’s letting on.
What they uncover is far darker and more terrifying than Logan ever imagined: the truth about his father, the secrets of Minatuck, and the horrifying reality of the Mermaid of the Hamptons.
Will Logan and his friends expose the lies that have haunted him for years, or will they be Dragged Down Deep into the swampy, secretive underbelly of a town that guards its mysteries with deadly intent?
Dragged Down Deep is available at Amazon.
Michael is a lifelong movie buff, a music playlist aficionado, and a sucker for self-help books. He lives on the North Shore of Long Island with his wife and children.
Website & Social Media:
Website ➜ www.michaelokon.com
Twitter ➜ https://www.x.com/IAmMichaelOkon
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