New Orleans Run

by David Robbins

  The door was jerked wide and two tonton macoutes entered briskly, submachine guns clutched in their hands. After them came the officer.

  "Sergeant Vahny told me your name is Lynx," Francois said.

  "I didn't know the dodo could remember his own name, let alone mine."

  Francois clasped his hands behind his back. "You would be well advised to keep that smart mouth of yours in check. It can only get you into trouble."

  "What would you call this?"

  The captain barely suppressed a grin, then spoke over his left shoulder.

  "Get in here and bind him."

  Another pair of men in black walked into the cell and swiftly coiled loops of nylon around the hybrid's wrists, using three times as much cord as before.

  "Are you sure this is enough?" Lynx quipped.

  "Let's go," Captain Francois stated, and gestured at the doorway.

  "Where are you takin' me?" Lynx asked as he walked out.

  "For a little stroll in the fresh air."

  Six more tonton macoutes were waiting in the corridor.

  "All this just for me?" Lynx said, baiting them. "I'm flattered."

  "Not just for you," Captain Francois said, correcting hint. "For the others too."

  "How are my three pals doing, anyway?"

  "One of them has escaped."

  Lynx beamed at the news. "Let me guess. The big guy with muscles growin' out of his muscles."

  "How did you know?"

  "The other two couldn't escape from a soggy paper bag."

  Captain Francois led the escort down the metal stairway to the bottom floor.

  The prospect of seeing his friends again filled Lynx with joy. He could barely contain himself as the outer door opened and he was ushered outside. And there they stood, covered by four tonton macoutes: Ferret, Gremlin, and Eleanore DeCoud.

  "Lynx!" Gremlin exclaimed happily, and wagged bound arms. "Are you okay, yes?"

  "I'm fine," Lynx responded. He grinned and sauntered over to them.

  Oddly, Ferret avoided meeting his gaze. "What about you guys?"

  "We weren't harmed, no," Gremlin said.

  "Speak for yourself," Ferret muttered, studiously staring into the distance.

  "What happened?" Lynx asked.

  "You tell him," Ferret instructed the humanoid.

  "Poor Ferret was beat on by these fiends, yes."

  "Are you all right?" Lynx inquired of his fellow hybrid.

  Again Ferret addressed Gremlin. "Would you tell this—human—that I'm alive, no thanks to him."

  Lynx glanced at the humanoid, who shrugged, then at Ferret. "What's going on here? Aren't you talking to me?"

  "No."

  "Why not?"

  "I don't have a year to go into the reasons."

  "Oh. Is that right? I'm beginning to think you're a bit ticked off at me."

  " A bit?" Ferret unexpectedly exploded, and before anyone could guess his intent, before any of the tonton macoutes could intervene, before Gremlin could stop him, he sprang forward, sweeping his arms up and out. Despite the cord binding his wrists he managed to open his hands wide enough clamp his fingers on the cat-man's throat.

  "Ferret! No, no!" Gremlin cried.

  "What the hell!" Captain Francois blurted out in amazement.

  The best Lynx could do was grab his friend's arm and utter a sound that came out as "Gaaaacck!"

  To Ferret, the few seconds he had his hands on the cat's neck were sheer rapture. He didn't actually squeeze enough to do any harm, but the simple sensation of applying enough pressure to cause Lynx to cough and sputter, and beholding the inanely stupid expression on his chronic tormentor, produced a profound ecstasy.

  "Pull them apart!" Captain Francois barked.

  Two men in black shouldered their weapons and moved in, one tugging on Lynx while the other attempted to pry Ferret's hands off. When this second man realized the mutation's diminutive size belied the steely strength resident in the hybrid's slim limbs, he called out for help.

  Lynx wheezed and thrashed, frantically striving to pull free.

  Three more tonton macoutes rushed to the assistance of their comrades, and between the four of them they were finally able to tear Ferret's hands loose.

  "What's the meaning of this?" Captain Francois demanded angrily. "I thought the two of you were friends."

  Inhaling raggedly, Lynx glanced at the officer and tried to speak. His throat hurt like hell and he had to lick his lips and wet his mouth before he succeeded. "So did I," he croaked.

  Ferret, held fast by four men in black, startled everyone by throwing back his head and cackling, uproariously, uncontrollably venting the emotional release he needed, laughing in supreme delight.

  "The freak is crazy, sir," one of the tonton macoutes commented.

  "You may be right," Francois concurred.

  Lynx glanced at Gremlin, stunned to find the humanoid snickering, then at Ferret. "What was that all about, you idiot! You almost killed me!"

  Ferret only laughed louder.

  "I don't see what's so damn funny," Lynx snapped, completely confused.

  "Neither do I," Captain Francois declared. "I don't know what's going on here, but I do know we will not have a repeat of this performance or the offender will suffer the painful consequence." He paused and stared at the man restraining Ferret. "Let him go."

  The quartet promptly obeyed.

  "Since you obviously can't be trusted together," Francois went on, "I'm going to have two of my men walk between each of you. There will be no talking whatsoever. Understood?"

  "Where are we going?" Lynx inquired.

  "For a little stroll," Francois said, and swept his men with a stern stare.

  "All right. Fall in."

  Lynx stepped over to Eleanore, who had witnessed the incident in stunned silence, and noticed her eyes were drooping. "Hey, sweetcheeks.

  How are you holdin' up?"

  "Okay," she replied weakly. "I could use some sleep, though."

  "Have they, fed you yet?"

  "No."

  The cat-man turned toward the officer. "Before we go anywhere, why don't you feed the babe?"

  "That's not possible," Captain Francois answered.

  "Sure it is, dimwit. Just go over to the fancy house over there and ask the kitchen help for some leftovers."

  "Your insolence is becoming annoying, freak. When I said feeding her isn't possible, I meant it. Besides, food is the least of her worries."

  "What's that supposed to mean?"

  "Never mind. And now you'll shut your furry face or we'll kick your teeth in."

  Furious, Lynx opened his mouth, then thought better of the notion. His intuition told him he'd need to be in tiptop shape to handle whatever the tutti-fruittis threw at him. Reluctantly, he held his temper in check and smiled reassuringly at Eleanore.

  She feebly returned the smile.

  The tonton macoutes arranged themselves as the captain had stipulated, separating the hybrids and the woman from each other. At a word from Francois the detail headed for the mansion with him in the lead.

  Lynx hiked behind two men in black, sullenly plotting to disembowel every last tonton macoute on the planet. He was extremely concerned about the woman. She needed food and rest badly, and there had to be a way he could get her both. Preoccupied with his musing, he failed to pay special attention to the mansion until they were within 30 yards of the portico. Then he glanced up in consternation at the subdued murmur of many voices to discover over four dozen men in black standing in formation, at ease, on the lawn near the front door.

  Look at them all!

  Where had they all come from? Lynx wondered. He hadn't seen anywhere near that many when he'd arrived at the compound. A glance over his left shoulder at the gate in the south wall showed him more tonton macoute hurrying in from the pier. He also glimpsed 25 or 30

  boats tied at dock.

  The dorks must be arriving from all over.

  Which did not bode
well.

  Lynx frowned and gazed at the mansion. They wouldn't be calling in all the troops unless the activity planned for the night was very special. What did black-magic types do for kicks anyway?

  The murmur of conversation abruptly ceased when the door opened and out strode a man dressed in red and a woman wearing a green dress.

  Instantly the tonton macoutes snapped to attention.

  Captain Francois led his detail straight up to the steps and bowed.

  "Here are the prisoners, your lordship," he announced.

  "The Baron and Majesta," Eleanore stated in evident horror, raising the back of her left hand to her mouth.

  Smirking wickedly, the man called the Baron came down and stood next to the officer. The malevolent gaze fastened onto Eleanore. "Well, well, well. It's been a while, hasn't it, Ms. DeCoud?"

  "You bastard!"

  The Baron chuckled and looked up at the woman in green. "Look who's here, Majesta. Our old friend Eleanore."

  "Hello, Eleanore," the mambo said sweetly,

  "Screw you."

  "It appears she's developed an attitude problem," Majesta remarked sarcastically.

  "Poor Eleanore always was an independent thinker," the Baron mentioned. "Perhaps that's why she saw fit to join the Resistance after her stay here was over."

  "You don't have any proof," Eleanore declared, taking a step toward him.

  "What's that?"

  "You don't have any proof I joined the Resistance. You're just guessing,"

  Eleanore reiterated.

  The Baron grinned smugly. "First of all, what makes you think I need proof? If I believe someone is guilty of conspiring against the Black Snake Society, then they're guilty." He paused. "However, in your case I do happen to have concrete substantiation of your betrayal."

  "Liar."

  "Oh?" The Baron twisted, looking at the entrance. "Would you come out now, my dear," he called out.

  Another woman emerged from the mansion. She wore a blue dress styled to accent her feminine charms. Her blonde hair bobbed as she walked, and her green eyes regarded the captives coldly, especially one of them.

  Lynx saw Eleanore's eyes widen and heard her gasp. She swayed, about to fall, but recovered and cried shrilly, "Violet!"

  "Little Eleanore," Violet said, her tone reeking with disdain. "At long last you're about to get your just desserts."

  "You've turned against the Resistance, "Eleanore declared in disbelief.

  "You fool. I've never been with the Resistance," Violet replied.

  "But you're the leader of the movement!"

  "What movement? A few pathetic fools foolishly attempting to overthrow the Black Snake Society? Don't make me laugh."

  "This can't be happening."

  "But it is, you dumb bitch. I've been one of the Baron's favorites ever since he first brought me here when I was fifteen. Unlike you, I knew a good thing when I saw it. I agreed to work with him, to do whatever he wanted, and he instructed me to infiltrate the Resistance. Neither of us ever imagined I'd become the leader."

  "But why?" Eleanore asked, her voice wavering.

  "Are you that dumb you can't figure it out? What better way to keep tabs on the opposition than to have someone on the inside? I keep him informed of all Resistance activities. I provide him with the names of all Resistance members."

  "Why not just wipe it out?"

  "Because new malcontents are bound to arise, and this way the Black Snake Society keeps track of each and every one. Why wipe the Resistance out when we control those opposed to us?"

  Eleanore appeared dazed by the revelations. "I still don't understand.

  What about the radio?"

  "What about it? I sabotaged the shortwave. Even if someone had heard Adrien's weak signal, they would never have been able to get through. We let him go on broadcasting for a couple of weeks to ensure any suspicion that arose after he was captured would be diverted from me," Violet boasted.

  "Enough of this," the Baron suddenly snapped. "The bitch doesn't deserve to know all of our secrets." He faced the assembled tonton macoutes. "Tonight is a special night, my brothers. Tonight we offer our living god the sacrifices Damballah requires to continue bestowing on us the power that makes us invincible. Tonight we show Damballah the depths of our devotion. We will renew our covenant with the Divine Serpent, and in return our magic will become even stronger than it already is. Are you ready to recommit yourselves?"

  Responding on cue, as if they had done this many times previously, the tonton macoutes shouted as one: "Yes, we are!"

  "Excellent. Then let us proceed."

  Lynx barely paid attention as Majesta and Violet joined the twit in red, orders were barked, lanterns brought, the entire procession walked northward, skirting the mansion. He was too concerned about Eleanore.

  She walked in a trancelike state, shuffling lethargically, apparently in shock over discovering the truth about Violet. Which reminded him. He added the blonde to the list of scuzzbuckets he intended to waste before he departed New Orleans.

  After rounding the mansion the Black Snake Society marched due north to another gate in the outer walls. The iron barrier was promptly opened, and walking with his head high and his shoulders squared, in the manner of a king of old, Baron Laveau led his followers along a clear-cut path, continuing to the north.

  Lynx resigned himself to going along with the program for the time being. More tonton macoutes had surrounded them as they started out, and at least ten weapons were trained on him at all times. If he so much as sneezed they might blow him away. He noted that Ferret and Gremlin were receiving similar treatment.

  The path bore on a generally direct course toward the far side of the island. Thick vegetation and tall trees flanked both sides. An unnatural stillness pervaded the forest. Even the insects had fallen silent at the passage of so many humans.

  Since he had nothing better to do, and since the lanterns weren't bright enough to dispel all of the shadows, particularly from the waist down, Lynx availed himself of the opportunity to work on the cords securing his wrists. The last time he'd used his teeth. This time he had to strain against nylon, then relax, and repeat the procedure over and over in the hope the cord would slacken.

  The trek seemed endless.

  Just when Lynx was about to ask if the dummies knew what they were going, a two-story structure appeared ahead. It was ringed by torches, and there were arched entranceways all along the base. He didn't like the looks of it. The Baron halted before one of the entrances and motioned with his right arm.

  The practiced precision acquired by previous experience, the tonton macoutes closed on their prisoners,

  Lynx was caught off guard. A dozen men in black swarmed all over him, seizing his arms and legs and hoisting him into the air. He struggled in vain, unable to utilize his nails, hissing like his namesake. He felt the men move, and in less than a minute he had been carried through a dark tunnel and into an enormous arena. A smooth wall enclosed the whole area to a height of 15 feet, then there were bleachers.

  Somewhere nearby, Ferret was snarling in frustrated rage.

  The tonton macoutes abruptly lowered Lynx to the ground holding him tightly. A hard object brushed against his head. Then his captors astonished him they sliced the nylon rope from his wrists. Elated, he flexed his fingers. But the moment his elation changed to feral wrath when the ropes were replaced by metal shackles. "No!" he bellowed, and heaved.

  The men in black had already started to release him. They hastened off toward one of the openings, snickering laughing.

  Lynx looked behind him to discover a wooden post to which the shackles were fastened. Four feet of chain limited mobility. A hasty glance to his right revealed Ferret and Gremlin chained to other posts. To his left Eleanore was sagging lifelessly with her eyes closed.

  "The best is yet to come, freak."

  The mocking voice drew Lynx's gaze upward to bleachers.

  Seated above the posts and leaning over the e
dge was the Baron. "Are you ready for the main event? It's midnight."

  "What happens? Do you turn into a pumpkin?"

  "Not quite," Baron Laveau said, and nodded at opposite side of the arena.

  Lynx glanced in that direction and spotted a huge gate. "Let me guess.

  You're having a dance?"

  "Of a sort," the Baron replied, grinning. "A dance of death."

  The tonton macoutes were almost all in position for the ceremony, dutifully filling the bleachers from bottom to top and walking up narrow aisles to reach the higher rows.

  Lynx tested the shackles, surging against the steel chains, when they proved to be more than a match for his genetically heightened strength.

  He recalled several stories he'd heard to the effect that Blade had broken chains on one or two occasions, and he doubted whether even the giant Warrior could break those restraining chains. But he had to find a way to get loose. If he didn't-

  "Let the ceremony begin!" Baron Laveau shouted, standing. He beamed at Majesta and Violet, who were on his left, and then glanced toward the drum, "Sound the Drum."

  Lynx saw a tall man lift a mallet of some sort and strike the drum. The booming retort reverberated in the arena and out over the bayou. He guessed the sound could be heard for miles under the right conditions.

  The tonton macoutes began to chant in an unknown language.

  The mallet struck the drum, and again the thunderous percussion echoed on the night breeze.

  Lynx suspected what was coming. He ignored the drumming and the chanting of the tonton macoutes, who had only filled slightly over half the bleachers, and devoted his efforts to breaking the chains. He wrenched and pulled and lunged in reckless abandon, heedless of the pain the shackles caused as they dug into his wrists. If he didn't get free, he was dead. And he didn't want to die. Not when Melody was waiting anxiously for his return. Not when he had so to live for. A future with the woman he loved. Young kids of his very own.

  Damn the injustice of it all!

  His arms hurting terribly, his wrists bleeding profusely, he kept at his task with undiminished intensity. His hybrid strength enabled him to persist far beyond the point where a man would have weakened and collapsed. He bared his teeth, his chest heaving, and struggled, struggled, struggled. The drumming had become a monotonous backdrop to his efforts, the chanting a litany goading him to continually renew his attempts. Only when he heard Ferret yelling his name did he finally cease and stay still, weary to his core, dripping sweat and blood. He looked to his right.