Darkfall

things?
    Did Lavelle mold them from clay and then somehow invest them with life and malevolent purpose?
    Or were they conjured up with the help of pentagrams and sacrifices and arcane chants, the way demons were supposedly called forth by Satanists? Were they demons?
    Where did they come from?
    The man-form thing didn’t creep down the wall behind the first beast. Instead, it leaped out of the duct, dropping to the top of the dresser, landing on its feet, agile and quick.
    It looked past Jack and Keith, and it said, “Penny? Davey?”
    Jack pushed Keith across the threshold, into the hall, then followed him and pulled the door shut behind them.
    An instant later, one of the creatures-probably the manlike beast- crashed against the other side of the door and began to claw frantically at it.
    The kids were already out of the hall, in the living room.
    Jack and Keith hurried after them.
    Faye shouted, “Jack! Quick! They’re coming through the vent out here!”
    “Trying to cut us off,” Jack said.
    Jesus, we’re not going to make it, they’re everywhere, the damned building’s infested with them, they’re all around us-
    In his mind, Jack quickly slammed the door on those bleak thoughts, closed it tight and locked it and told himself that their worst enemies were their own pessimism and fear, which could enervate and immobilize them.
    Just this side of the foyer, in the living room, Faye and Rebecca were helping the kids put on coats and boots.
    Snarling, hissing, and eager wordless jabbering issued from the vent plate in the wall above the long sofa. Beyond the slots in that grille, silver eyes blazed in the darkness. One of the screws was being worked loose from inside.
    Davey had only one boot on, but time had run out.
    Jack picked up the boy and said, “Faye, bring his other boot, and let’s get moving.”
    Keith was already in the foyer. He’d been to the closet and had gotten coats for himself and Faye. Without pausing to put them on, he grabbed Faye by the arm and hurried her out of the apartment.
    Penny screamed.
    Jack turned toward the living room, instinctively crouching slightly and holding Davey even tighter.
    The vent plate was off the duct above the sofa. Something was starting to come out of the darkness there.
    But that wasn’t why Penny had screamed. Another hideous intruder had come out of the kitchen, and that was what had seized her attention. It was two-thirds of the way through the dining room, scurrying toward the living room archway, coming straight at them. Its coloration was different from that of the other beasts, although no less disgusting; it was a sickly yellow-white with cancerous- looking green-black pockmarks all over it, and like the other beasts Lavelle had sent, this one appeared to be slick, slimy. It was also a lot bigger than any of the others, almost three times the size of the ratlike creature in the bedroom. Somewhat resembling an iguana, although more slender through its body than an iguana, this spawn of nightmares was three to four feet in length, had a lizard’s tail, a lizard’s head and face. Unlike an iguana, however, the small monster had eyes of fire, six legs, and a body so slinky that it appeared capable of tying itself in knots; it was the very slinkiness and flexibility that made it possible for a creature of this size to slither through the ventilation pipes. Furthermore, it had a pair of batlike wings which were atrophied and surely useless but which unfurled and flapped and fluttered with frightening effect.
    The thing charged into the living room, tail whipping back and forth behind it. Its mouth cracked wide, emitting a cold shriek of triumph as it bore down on them.
    Rebecca dropped to one knee and fired her revolver. She was at point-blank range; she couldn’t miss; she didn’t. The slug smashed squarely into its target. The shot lifted the beast off the floor and flung it backwards as if it were a bundle of rags. It landed hard, clear back at the archway to the dining room.
    It should have been blown to pieces. It wasn’t.
    The floor and walls should have been splashed with blood-or with whatever fluid pumped through these creatures’ veins. But there was no mess whatsoever.
    The thing flopped and writhed on its back for a few seconds, then rolled over and got onto its feet, wobbled sideways. It was disoriented and sluggish, but unharmed. It scuttled around in a circle, chasing its own tail.
    Meanwhile, Jack’s eyes were drawn to the