"No!" Nydia screamed. She slapped the girl, knocking her down in the slippery shower stall.
Nydia pulled Mille from the shower and slapped the woman. She dressed, all the while concentrating on her love for God. "Think of God," she told Mille. "Think only of God."
The combined thoughts of pure good was too much for the force. With an evil hiss, it was gone.
"That was too close for comfort," Mille said. "Thank you, Nydia."
"It will get worse, don't ever believe otherwise. But to fight it, think of love and the Lord."
"Almost got you both that time," Jeanne said. "We'll get you yet."
Nydia tossed the girl a white gown. "Dress!" she said curtly.
They then, with Joe's help, dragged the teenager into a bedroom and tied her down. They joined the others in the den.
"I don't know if this will work," Father Le Moyne said with a long sigh. "I have already violated the first rule by not consulting the bishop. The Rituale Romanum is quite clear on that matter. But, perhaps in this case—" He shrugged. "Of the twenty-one heads prefixed in the rite of Rituale, I can safely say I meet most of them. I have not fasted, nor have I lived a blameless life. I can but hope that will be overlooked. I chose not to perform the exorcism in a church for reasons of my own.
"You people—all of you—will act as my witnesses. 1 cannot allow the Blessed Sacrament near the girl; but I have my crucifix and holy water. I am going into Little Sam's bedroom for a few moments of prayer. Please do not disturb me. When I come out, we must begin immediately."
Father Le Moyne walked softly down the carpeted hall and entered the bedroom. He closed the door behind him.
"Lordy, Lordy!" Joe said. "What in the world is a good Methodist doin' in this mess?"
The quartet walked into the bedroom where Jeanne lay tied, hands to the headboard posts, feet secured to the base of the bed. She was dressed in a white gown of Nydia's. The gown was much too large for the young girl, and she looked pathetic lying on the bed.
Until she opened her mouth.
"Goddamnmotherfuckingcockeatingpussylappingshitfacedassholesuckingbastards!" she shouted, the filth rolling from her mouth in waves.
Only Joe had anything to say about that outburst.
"Lordy, Lordy!"
Father Le Moyne entered the room. He was dressed in surplice and violet stole. He said nothing to anyone. He signed himself, Jeanne, and the others with the sign of the cross, then sprinkled them all with holy water. Jeanne thrashed on the bed and screamed in pain as the holy water touched her. She cursed them all. Father Le Moyne ignored her profanity. He placed one end of the violet stole around the neck of Jeanne, securing it. She screamed and hissed and tried to bite his hand. When she saw he was too quick for her snapping teeth, she spat at the priest, her spittle running down his face. Father Le Moyne paid no attention to it. He knelt down by the child, only Mille making the responses required.
Father Le Moyne began praying, his voice rising above the screaming hissing filth coming from the mouth of the teenager.
"You'll all die!" Jeanne howled. "You'll die horribly. I'll see to that, you cock-eaters! I'll see that it takes days for you shits to die."
Father Le Moyne prayed in Latin for a few moments, then switched to English.
"Fuck you!" Jeanne shouted, writhing on the bed. "You piss-faced son-of-a-bitch!"
"Oh God," the priest said, "Whose property is ever to have mercy and to forgive: Receive our supplications and prayers, that of Thy mercy and loving-kindness Thou wilt set free this Thy handmaiden who is fast bound by the chain of dark sins."
The priest continued the long prayer, his voice steady, rising over the howling and screaming of Jeanne. She hissed and cursed and spat at Le Moyne.
The filth from her mouth was staggeringly profane.
"I command thee, whosoever thou art, thou unclean spirit, and all thy companions possessing this child of God, that by the mysteries of the Incantation, Passion, Resurrection, and Ascension of our Lord Jesus Christ, by the sending of the Holy Ghost, and by the coming of the same our Lord to judgment, thou tell me thy name, the day, and the hour of thy going out, by some sign: and, that to me, a minister of God, although unworthy, thou be wholly obedient in all things: nor hurt this creature of God, or those that stand by, or their goods in any way."
Father Le Moyne signed himself and Jeanne on the forehead, the mouth—being very careful to avoid her flashing teeth—and the breast. Jeanne continued to shriek profanity at the man. The priest began to read from the Holy Gospel, reading from Mark and Luke and John. His voice was low and steady. The room darkened, the lights dimming. All present could feel the presence of both good and evil. A foul odor entered the small bedroom, assailing the nostrils of the believers. Jeanne laughed on the bed and cursed them all.
Father Le Moyne began to pray: "Almighty Lord, Word of God the Father, Jesus Christ, God and Lord of every creature: Who didst give to Thy Holy Apostles power to tread upon serpents and scorpions: Who amongst other of Thy wonderful commands didst vouchsafe to say—Put the devils to flight: By Whose power Satan fell from heaven like lightning: with supplication I beseech Thy Holy Name in fear and trembling—"
A hot stinking wind rose in heavy gusts outside the home, battering the stone walls. A limb was torn from a tree, smashing on the roof and falling like living thunder to the ground. An owl hooked its claws in a window screen and tried to beat its way into the bedroom. Jeanne shrieked and howled and poured verbal filth on the priest. Her gown became dark with heavy sweat.
The priest had never stopped: "—that to me Thy most unworthy servant, granting me pardon of all my faults, Thou wilt vouchsafe to give constancy of faith and power, that shielded the might Of Thy Holy arm, in trust and safety I may approach to attack this cruel devil, through Thee, O Jesus Christ, the Lord our God, Who shalt come to judge the quick and the dead, and the world by fire, Amen."
"Fuck you!" Jeanne shouted. "Fuck all you cock-suckers!" she screamed. "All praise the Master! All praise the Dark One."
Father Le Moyne signed the cross and placed his hand on Jeanne's head, pinning the child's head to the sweat-soaked pillow.
He said, "Behold the Cross of the Lord, flee ye of the contrary part. The Lion of the tribe of Judah, the Root of David, hath prevailed—"
"Shove it up your stinking asshole, Zorro!" Jeanne shouted defiantly.
Father Le Moyne appeared undaunted. He continued the exorcism.
The wind slammed against the house. Screaming in his fury, the Dark One hurled the wind like giant fists against the home. The stone structure actually rocked on its foundation. Those inside the house were thrown about like stringless puppets. Only Father Le Moyne appeared not to notice the hard buffeting.
The priest prayed: "Lord, hear my prayer, and let my cry come unto Thee. The Lord be with you, And with thy spirit."
"Fuck you!" Jeanne wailed. She spat on the priest and again tried to bite him, her teeth flashing and snapping in the fading, on and off lights in the bedroom. She screamed profanity of the most hideous proportions.
"O God, and Father of our Lord Jesus Christ, I call upon Thy Holy Name and humbly implore Thy mercy, that Thou wouldest vouchsafe to grant me help against this, and every unclean spirit, that vexes this Thy creature. Through the same Lord Jesus Christ."
"Fuck me!" Jeanne cried. "Give me some cock, padre. I got good tight pussy, man. Young stuff. Come on! Pop it to me, preacher!" She laughed, the evil rolling from her tongue and shining in her eyes. "Turn me over and stuff it up my ass, you queer son-of-a-bitch. I'll make a man out of you if you'll let me. Let me give you some head, man!"
Laughter, dark and menacing, rose from out of the hot wind and crept into the room.
"Leave!" Father Le Moyne shouted. "Be gone from this holy place, you spawn of the Devil."
The laughter died.
Father Le Moyne crossed himself and began the exorcism. "I exorcise thee, most foul spirit, every coming in of the enemy, every apparition, every l
egion; in the Name of our Lord Jesus—" He crossed himself. "—Christ, be rooted out, and be put to flight from this creature of God." He signed the cross. "He commands thee, Who has bid thee be cast down from the highest heaven into the lower parts of the earth. He commands thee, Who has commanded the sea, the winds, and the storms. Hear therefore, and fear, Satan, thou injurer of the faith, thou enemy of the human race, thou producer of death, thou destroyer of life, kindler of vices, seducer of men, betrayer of the nations, inciter of envy, origin of avarice, cause of discord, stirrer of troubles: why standest thou, and resistest, when thou knowest that Christ the Lord destroyed thy ways? Fear him, Who was sacrificed in Isaac, Who was sold in Joseph, was slain in the Lamb, was crucified in man, thence was the triumpher over hell."
The stinking winds became a fierce howling out of the smoky depths of hell. Tentacles of thick ropelike smoke wound around the ankles of those in the small bedroom, the touch scaly and hot.
"Ignore it," Father Le Moyne told the witnesses.
Jeanne moaned and thrashed on the bed, the ropes binding her, cutting into her wrists and ankles. Drops of blood stained the damp sheet.
Le Moyne signed the Cross. "Depart therefore in the Name of the Father—" he signed the Cross "—and of the Son—" the signing "—and of the Holy—" the signing "—Ghost: give place to the Holy Ghost, this sign of the Holy—" the signing "—Cross of Jesus Christ our Lord: Who with the Father, and the same Holy Ghost, liveth and reigneth ever one God, world without end. Amen."
The wind changed into a low moaning, intermixed with the voices of those condemned to the fiery pits, the flames licking at them, searing forever and ever the flesh of the damned. The ropelike smoke snaked around the room, ankle level, seeking some softening in the faith of those witnessing the exorcism.
All kicked the thick smoke away.
The wind built in fury, all but covering the praying of the priest. Father Le Moyne made three signings on the girl's breast. He touched the girl on the forehead with the sign of the cross.
"I adjure thee, thou old serpent, by the judge of the quick and the dead, by thy Maker, and the Maker of the world: by Him, Who hath the power to put thee into hell, that thou depart in haste from this servant of God, who returns to the bosom of the Church, with thy fear and with the torment of thy terror. I adjure Thee again—" he signed the cross on his forehead "—not in my infirmity, but by the power of the Holy Ghost, that thou go out of this servant of God, whom the Almighty God hath made in His Own Image. Yield, therefore, not to me, but to the minister of Christ. For His—"
The howling and the moaning of those confined forever to the smoking heat of the pits became overpowering in volume, covering the priest's words. Still he exorcised the demon from the girl. Those gathered as witnesses could not hear Le Moyne's words but could see only his lips moving. Many times the priest signed the cross, on the chest, the forehead, her arm. Le Moyne raised his voice; he was shouting. Still the howling winds covered his words. But Jeanne was hearing every word in her heart.
The girl's face was a mask of terror and confusion, as she was torn between two worlds, ripped and tossed back and forth between light and darkness, comfort and pain, good and evil. Once she cried, "Oh, God— help me!"
She was slammed backward on the bed as if struck by an invisible fist. Her mouth became bloody and she soiled herself with urine and excrement. The room stank of human waste and of the odor of burning sulphur.
Again and again, the priest signed the cross, on the girl, on those gathered in the room, and himself. Le Moyne prayed, as the girl alternated between cursing and asking God for help in her battle.
"I therefore adjure thee, thou most foul spirit, every appearance, every inroad of Satan, in the name of Jesus Christ—" the signing "—of Nazareth, Who after His baptism in Jordan, was led into the wilderness, and overcame thee in thine own strong hold: that thou cease to assault her whom He formed from the dust of the earth for His own honour and glory: and that thou in miserable man tremble not at human weakness, but at the image of Almighty God. Yield, therefore—"
The room began to pitch as if it possessed a body and brain of its own among the wood and glass and stone. The witnesses were hurled back and forth, all of them grabbing onto dressers, bedposts, closet doors; anything to give them some support.
Jeanne began screaming in fear as her body jerked in uncontrollable spasms of agony on the sweat-soaked bed. No one but God, the girl, and Satan could hear the words from Father Le Moyne's mouth and heart and faith.
The priest was shutting out Satan, and the Dark One was highly irritated.
The bed began to move, jerking back and forth, rocking on its legs, slinging the bound girl from side to side. Stinking vomit erupted from Jeanne's mouth, spraying the priest. Still he calmly invoked the power of God to free the possessed young woman from the black grips of Satan.
The hot winds became of hurricane force, slamming against the house. The window in the bedroom was smashed, glass shattering and spraying those witnessing the departure of the howling fury that possessed Jeanne.
Father Le Moyne was exhausted, as Satan was pounding him with invisible forces as strong as those flailing the young girl. But the priest would not back away from this battle; would not even allow the thought of failure to enter his mind, despite all that Satan was throwing at him. Father Daniel Le Moyne would win this fight.
With God's help.
"There is no time for delay," the priest prayed the final verses of the rite of exorcism. "For behold the Lord the Ruler approaches closely upon thee, and his fire shall glow before him and shall go before him; and shall burn up His enemies on every side. If thou hast deceived man, at God thou canst not scoff: One expels thee, from Whose Sight nothing is hidden. He casts thee OUT, to Whose power all things are subject. He shuts thee out, Who hast prepared for thee and for thine angels everlasting hell; out of Whose mouth the sharp sword shall go out, when He shall come to judge the quick and the dead, and the world by fire.
"Amen."
Father Le Moyne smiled an exhausted smile of victory as the winds abruptly ceased their howlings. The ropelike smoke was gone from the room. The odor of burning sulphur left the room. The demons had ceased their screaming. Jeanne LaMeade lay passively on the stained sheet.
The priest prayed softly for a moment. The room and the bed ceased their movements. The winds had died down to nothing.
Jeanne opened her eyes. They were free of wildness. She looked very confused and very frightened. "Mille!" she called. "What's been happening to me. Where have I been? What—where am I?"
Father Le Moyne put a hand on the girl's face. "You've been in hell, child. But you're home now."
The girl pressed her lips to the palm of the priest's hand and wept.
NINE
Mille bathed her sister and washed and fixed her hair. She found her a T-shirt of Sam's and Jeanne used that for a nightgown. While Mille was tending to Jeanne, Sam and Nydia boarded up the window that had been smashed and cleaned up the room. Then closed the door and locked it. Jeanne stretched out on the sofa in the den and was asleep in a minute.
The adults gathered in the kitchen for coffee. Sam used his handy-talkie and called in to Monty, asking about Little Sam.
"He's been asleep for hours, Sam," Viv told him. "He's such a sweet child. Don't worry about him. He is perfectly safe here."
"We left several changes for him. You've probably found them by now. I don't know whether to risk traveling back to your place tonight. Not this late. I'll see what the others want to do. If we don't call back in, we're staying over here for the night."
"Sam?" Monty took the walkie-talkie. "Don't risk traveling tonight. The students at Nelson College— some of them at least—have gone wild. Roaring up and down the streets, screaming and yelling all sorts of filth. And there are—hell, things roaming the darkness. I don't know what in the hell they are. Some of those creatures like the one you shot in the orchard, I guess. But they are accompanied by humans. I
've heard the sounds of screaming from time to time. Terrified, agonized screaming. Can you tell me what is going on?"
"Maybe it's the coven members rounding up those who will not swear allegiance to Satan. I don't know, Monty. It could be almost anything. I think it's going to be grim around town in the morning."
Monty exhaled a long sigh. "All right, Sam. We'll see you all in a few hours."
Sam clicked off and looked at his watch. He was startled to see it was past midnight. The exorcism had taken several hours. He turned and faced the group in the kitchen.
"From this moment on," he warned them, "no one travels alone or without being armed. With the exception of you, Father Le Moyne. Armed, that is. Unless you feel it's time for you to start carrying a gun."
The priest smiled and held up his cross. "I am armed, Sam."
Sam did not return the smile. He said, "It's past midnight, people. And this marks the week of the Black Sabbat." He looked to Nydia for support. She nodded her head. "All restraints have been removed. Be prepared for anything from coven members. And the undead will be walking the night."
Father Le Moyne thought of his brother and sister-in-law.
Joe shuddered.
In the firmament, the Giver of Life and Light sat with a brooding warrior by His side. "So now it begins," the warrior grumbled.
"The priest speaks with much conviction, does he not?"
"Stop trying to change the subject. You are allowed to intervene; why am I not permitted?"
"Patience, Michael, patience. Does the father know of his son's dilemma?"
"Of course. And the mother. The father assisted the boy in some way not too many hours ago. But he did not leave as before," he quickly added, not feeling up to a lecture on the comings and goings of the Elder Sam Balon. "But both mother and father are strangely at peace. If they know fear, they are disguising it well."
"Umm," His voice rumbled. He knew only too well Sam Balon's ability to slip out of the firmament, even though the minister knew full well it was against the rules. "Well, I want you to keep an eye on the father—no! That would be like assigning the fox to guard the henhouse. I'll assign that to someone else."
The Devil's Touch Page 20
