"Where are we going?"
"To see an old friend."
They walked through the rainy night. In a few moments they were at the Rogers's house. Jackson scratched on the back screen. Bonnie appeared on the porch. She was still naked.
"I've been waiting for you, Jackson. What took you so long?"
"You're both too impatient," he said. "Bonnie, you remember Mary."
"We've spoken to each other over the years, haven't we, Mary?"
"Yes. At first I thought it was the medicine they were giving me. Then I recognized your voice. That was you who told me how to get out, wasn't it, Bonnie?"
"Yes." She motioned them both in. "Quickly, for the night is unsafe."
"For us?" Jackson asked, stepping into the house after Mary.
Bonnie closed the door. "For anyone. Strange forces have been unleashed, forces that I cannot identify. And the Christians are gathering at the Dorgenois house."
"We saw old R. M.," Jackson said. He laughed. "Guess who lost the good fight?"
The trio shared an evil bark of laughter. "What forces?" Mary asked.
Bonnie shook her head. Her bare breasts trembled with the movement. "The creatures that have slept for a hundred or more years are awake. And they are very hungry. Both for food and to mate. In their frenzy, they won't recognize us as one with the same Master. Stay inside for the night. They won't move during the day."
"I've seen them in my dreams," Mary said. "Great ugly hairy things."
"Yes. God's rejects. Our Master took them thousands of years ago. As soon as the Master calls for a gathering, we'll meet them and be secure. But for now, they are unpredictable."
Outside, the storm had gathered strength, once more unleashing its fury against the town.
The cats lay silent in their hidden places, waiting out the storm … and watching as strange, misshapen creatures rose from out of the ground, coming out of the dark swamps. The Beasts stood in the rain; they were not fearful of this rain, for they knew it had been sent by their Master. They stretched their arms and loosened their muscles. They had been asleep for a long, long time.
And now they were free.
Huge, clawed hands waved through the wet air. Powerful jaws that dripped stinking saliva, snapped at nothing. The fangs of the Beasts were four to five inches long, and yellow. The lightning flashes clearly showed the hideousness of the Beasts. The creatures, well over six feet tall when erect, weighed between two hundred and fifty and three hundred pounds. Their eyes were small and evil, with Hell-sent hate shining blood-red. The Beasts had massive jaws that slowly narrowed almost to a pinhead at the top of the head. Their bodies were covered with thick, coarse hair. The face was evil, part human, part animal.
The cats lay concealed and watched the Beasts as they stretched and growled and snapped and pranced their grotesqueness in a macabre dance. They strutted and leaped in the stormy night.
And the cats did not know what to make of them.
"How small the army," Colter Dorgenois muttered.
"It always is," Sam said, speaking softly. He sat next to the woman.
"You've done this before, Sam?"
"Twice."
"You don't seem afraid."
"Not yet, at least. Only a fool does not know fear when confronting the Dark One."
"You're Catholic?"
"No, ma'am. I don't attend any church on a regular basis." ,
The look she gave him was a curious one.
"There are other denominations, Mrs. Dorgenois."
"That isn't what I meant by the look, young man. It's very late, and I'm tired." She stood up and rapped sharply on a table with the heavy ring on her right hand.
"People," she said. "I'm only going to say this one time. If there are any nonbelievers among you, I would suggest you make your peace with God right now. For you are in more danger than you have ever faced in your life."
No one moved, no one spoke. The old woman looked at each man and woman. "My maiden name was Laveau. I was born to a witch. I am a witch. I was possessed as a child. I had the potential to do incredible evil as a child, but a very wise and strong priest saw that within me, good was battling evil. It took that man nearly three days to spiritually cut the evil from me. He died within moments after doing it. His name was Ramagos."
She sighed. "My husband, R. M., as is the firstborn male child of each generation, has a birthmark. A birthmark in the shape of a cat. It is a very small marking, but one with powerful meaning. The Dorgenois family moved up here from New Orleans to escape their past and try to rebuild their lives. They have always managed to handle those who were born … well, marked by the devil. Usually by pairing the male off with a very strong female, like myself. Jackson Dorgenois was one we could not handle. For those of you who do not know, Jackson killed his parents and then consumed their flesh."
Several of the listeners looked as though they would like to puke.
"R. M. and myself … we took Romy to raise as our own. Jackson does not know it, but he will meet his match when he confronts his brother, Romy." The woman began to pace the room as she talked. "Chief Borley and the sheriff agreed to help institutionalize Jackson. Borley and the sheriff died shortly afterward. Who killed them? Satan, probably. Please understand something, people. I wanted, R. M. wanted it also … we wanted to come forward with this terrible truth. But who would have believed us, and what would it have accomplished? Nothing. Jackson would have been placed in some state hospital and turned every inmate into Satan's follower. If he had been placed in a prison, that would have been even worse. Where he was, he could be, and was, kept heavily sedated. Someone relaxed just for a second there, and he was gone. It had happened before, so no one became unduly alarmed, since he had never hurt anyone before … this time. The reason for that was that he had never been called before … called by the Dark One.
"I am an old woman. I am not as strong as I once was. R. M. unwillingly broke free of my control. I could do nothing."
Don Lenoir took his wife's hand into his own and squeezed gently. Frances Lenoir sat in shock, not knowing what to believe.
"Sam Balon told me, just a few moments ago, his thoughts on the situation. I think for the most part, you were correct, Sam." She looked at him. "But something, I don't know what, has speeded up the devil's timetable. If I had to guess, I would guess it was caused by mortals. The mortals in this town, who became impatient. It's happened so many times it must be extremely frustrating for Satan."
Frances Lenoir began crying softly, her face in her hands.
"Father Landry attempted to exorcise Jackson Dorgenois. He failed. It broke his health. He lived for years after that, but that killed him, finally. R. M. has lied to Romy. I overheard him lying to him just the other night and knew that his dark side was overpowering the other side. I called Romy shortly after that and told him the truth. I don't know whether he accepted it all, or not. I can only hope he did."
"The cats, Mrs. Dorgenois?" Tony asked.
"Why they are what they are?" she asked.
Tony nodded his head.
She shrugged. "I don't know. Satan can do anything he wishes with almost any human or animal. Look what he's doing this night with the elements. I don't know."
"Perhaps it's from the Scriptures," Father Javotte spoke. "Revelation. 'And the beast which I saw was like unto a leopard, his mouth as the mouth of a lion.' " It was his turn to shrug his shoulders. "But that would be condemning all cats, and I don't believe that. The Bible speaks disparagingly of other animals as well. I think that the Lord of Flies chose cats in this area because there are so many of them."
"And because of the birthmark," Sam said. "And why did I get the idea, or where did I get it, that the Dorgenoises renounced Satan and accepted God?"
"R. M. planted that in your mind, Sam," Colter told him. "Or Jackson, or the Dark One."
"Yeah," Rita said. "I was there when you said that. Planted it?" She looked at Colter. "Is that possible?"
"Oh, yes
, girl," the old woman said, her smile grim. "Believe me, R. M. and I have had some mental battles over the years."
"And the gradual building of horror that I spoke of?" Sam asked.
Colter moved her right hand in that classic French gesture of comme ci, comma ga. "Perhaps that was the Dark One's original intent, Sam."
"So many of my friends … Andrea paused. "… Used to be friends have tattoos now. Of a tiny cat." She looked confused. "I've known that all along. Why didn't I say anything about it before now?"
"Perhaps for the same reason I said nothing about the lack of discipline at school," Matt Comeaux said. "I was just discussing this with Tess when you called this evening. I would think about it; then I'd get home, and the thought would be out of my head the instant I walked through the front door. My wife, of course."
"And my parents," Andrea said.
Sam glanced at C. D. His wife sat beside him. "Did you make the stakes, C.D.?"
"Yes, sir."
"Dear God!" Margie said, summing up the feelings of all present. She put her hands to her face and began weeping.
THE FIRST DAY OF THREE
6
The small band of Christians had spent the night at the Dorgenois house. All but Sam. He had borrowed a car from Colter and driven back to the rent house.
Yes, Sam thought, lying in bed beside Nydia. We are a very small band.
There had been no new additions last night. Sam counted them down. Colter, Don and Frances, Sonny Passon, C. D. and Connie, Bid Grenier and his wife, Pat, Susan, Noreen, Margie. David, Tony, and Oscar. Mike Laborne and his wife, Lois. Father Javotte. Andrea. Matt and Tess. Romy and Julie, when and if they joined the group. And the kids. Be thankful, he reminded himself, that there weren't that many kids.
Mrs. Wheeler, he counted one more. Although the old lady had refused to leave her house even after Colter had called her and practically begged her to join them. She would stay in her own home, thank you very much.
Sam quietly got out of bed and looked in on Little Sam. He was sleeping soundly, Dog lying by the side of his bed. Sam glanced at his wristwatch. Eight o'clock. He had not had much sleep, but felt alert and refreshed. He showered and shaved while the coffee was perking, then fixed a cup of coffee and took it outside, to sit on the front porch.
The skies had cleared, the clouds gone, the sun shining. And it was hot and humid, with only a light breeze blowing. The breeze brought with it a very slight odor.
Sam recognized the odor immediately.
The Beasts were up and moving.
Sam sipped his coffee, gathered his thoughts, and tried to ignore the odor that drifted about him.
It was a losing battle. Hopefully, Sam thought, not indicative of the battle facing us all.
Nydia came out onto the porch, a cup of coffee in one hand. She sat down and looked at her husband. 'The Beasts are here."
"Yes. I would guess some are very close to this house. Probably over there." He pointed toward the dark swamp.
"I would have sworn we were to have more time, Sam." She sipped her coffee. "I just felt we were to have several months."
"I would have, too. Colter Dorgenois asked me last night if I felt fear. I did not then. Now, I do."
"Yes," Nydia said softly. "Dog was restless last night."
"Are you afraid to stay here, Nydia?"
She smiled as she looked at him. "Husband, I have powers inherited from my mother that you have never seen. I don't think I could use them in any evil manner. But I will use them to protect the good around me. Little Sam's powers, I believe, are awesome. Dog is not of this earth. He never drinks, he never eats. No, I am not afraid."
"You've changed over the past fifteen months, Nydia."
"I have discovered a lot of my mother in me. But with the help of God, I have managed to channel that to good use. I remember my mother talking to Falcon while I was held their captive. Before Falcon raped me. One of the few times I ever saw my mother afraid. She could see that I had totally rejected the Dark One. It took me a long time to recall those words of hers, but they finally came to me.. She said, 'I do not want to be present when Nydia discovers the powers within her and unleashes them. For it will be awesome.' "
Sam smiled. "I seem to be the low man on the totem pole in this family when it comes to powers." She leaned over and kissed him. "Little Sam and I must live with a curse, Sam. But you've been blessed. Little Sam and I can fight with powers that came from the Dark One and now have been sworn to God, while you must fight with guile and mortal weapons. The end result will be the same."
"I'll worry about you all," Sam said.
Nydia shook her head. "Don't. There is no need for that. Go and follow the trails that God has marked for you."
Sam went into the house and packed a few things. Then he retrieved his .22 autoloader and tossed several boxes of hundred-pack ammo into the bag. Nydia watched him gather up his few things.
"I'll leave the shotgun for you. And you have your pistol," Sam told her.
"I won't need any of those things," she replied.
"You're certain?"
Her reply was a smile.
She came to him, opened his shirt, and kissed the cross-shaped scar on his chest. Then she raised her head and kissed his mouth. A woman kissing her warrior-man good-bye as he prepared to go into battle.
"Take the shotgun, Sam. You're going to need it."
"All right. I've never seen you so firm in your beliefs, Nydia."
"For the first time, Sam, I know that I am one hundred percent with God."
"And very secure in that belief?"
She smiled. "Oh, my, yes."
Sam opened a hall closet door and took out a leather gun case. He unzipped the case and pulled out a twelve gauge pump shotgun, the barrel cut off to federal standards. He put a half dozen boxes of shells into his bag. He went into Little Sam's bedroom. Dog lifted his head and watched as Sam kissed his sleeping son. Sam petted Dog and left the room. Dog moved closer to the bed and closed his mismatched eyes.
Sam touched Nydia's face. "I may need your help before this is over."
"I'll know, and I'll be there," she said.
Sam walked out the front door and tossed his gear into the back of the car he'd borrowed from Colter. He backed out of the drive, waved to Nydia, and pointed the nose of the car toward town.
Bonnie Rogers, Mary Claverie, and Jackson Dorgenois sat in the den of Bonnie's house. They sat around a freshly drawn chalk circle on the floor.
They waited for a sign.
Lula Magee sat with her back to the wall. The cold tile floor of the lounge should have been cold on her bare buttocks. But it wasn't. There were no human feelings left within Lula. Jules Nahan sat beside her. His dead eyes never blinked, his flesh never twitched as the dozens of cats padded over his naked legs and belly and shoulders. He sat and waited. Walt Davis sat across the barroom, on the floor. With his tongue, he very carefully groomed himself.
Judy Mahon, Don Hemming, and several dozen of their friends slept hard, exhausted from the previous night's festivities and following sexual orgy. It had been a good night for all concerned. Half a hundred new members had been initiated into the coven. It had been good fun for everybody; except that one who had died. Well, that had been his own fault. He shouldn't have begun having second thoughts just at the last moment.
It had been good fun listening to his screaming as the knife cut his flesh. That Jon Le Moyne really knew how to make the pain last and last and last. Then, just as the boy's heart was ready to cease its beating, Jon had cut it out of his chest, still beating. He had passed the heart around and all had gotten a good taste of it. Wasn't bad.
It was even all right when those adults showed up and took their pick of the chicks at the meeting. Turned out the adults were pretty OK people after all.
They didn't have long to wait now. Just over forty-eight hours before the coven would, in a manner of speaking, blow the lid off of Becancour.
Yeah, worshiping
the Dark One was a lot more fun than going to Sunday school.
• • •
The coven members, those who were active and those who were about to be, although the latter group were not yet aware of it, slept late that morning of the first day of three.
The Beasts lay in hidden places in and around the town. They did not like the sun to touch their hairy bodies, for the sun was sent by God. The darkness belonged to their Master. The Beasts rested for the night.
R. M. Dorgenois lay sleeping in the shed behind a house on the very edge of Becancour. His expensive business suit was muddy and filthy and torn. R. M.'s hands and lips twitched in his evil-tinged sleep, his eyelids fluttered, his entire body trembled in anticipation of the coming night. He licked his lips, his tongue gathering up the last bits of blood that had dried on his lips.
Xaviere Flaubert had not moved from the window in several hours. Her eyes were far-seeing, and she did not like what she was seeing. Did not like it, but knew there was nothing she could do about it. In sixty hours all concerned would know either victory or defeat. She had asked herself the same question a dozen times during the past few hours: Why? Why had the people moved so quickly? Why had they speeded up the timetable that had so carefully been worked out? Victory had been assured them; even with the presence of Sam Balon, victory had been assured. The Master, in his way, had approached all leaders of the Coven, urging them to go slowly.
And for a time, the better part of a year, they had obeyed. And then suddenly, like a wildly careening merry-go-round, events had begun rushing by.
And now it was too late to do anything except stand back and watch it all develop.
Disgusted, she turned away from the tinted window.
Her entourage had stood silently in the huge room, watching her, waiting.
"You're thinking very negative thoughts, Princess," Janet said.
"I do not need you to remind me of that," she snapped at the young woman.
"Mistress," an older man spoke. "We cannot stop what has begun; but what we can do is join them and attempt to guide the events."
"Go on," Xaviere said.
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