The Devil's Cat

by William W. Johnstone

  "Is the Dark One near?"

  "Close."

  "Then let us summon him."

  "Risky."

  "But if we wait, and the townspeople grow even more impatient, will it not be too late?"

  Xaviere considered that. "Yes," she finally spoke. "We'll need a subject. Have you one in mind?"

  "Yes. Things are looking up, I believe. That foolish preacher, Cliff Lester, has begun gathering his flock to the church. He has convinced them that the subtle change in the town is due to the so-called pornographic books and magazines sold in various stores in the area. Lester and his flock are going to have twenty-four hours of singing and praying, with marches in between. They are going to cleanse the town of filth."

  "Is that right?" Xaviere said, her lips curving into a smile. "How noble of Mr. Lester and his flock."

  "Yes, Mistress," the man said with a laugh.

  "God must have loved fools," the Princess of Darkness said. "For He certainly put a large number of them on earth."

  "Yes, Mistress. They began gathering at the church at eight this morning. They are going to have something called singin', shoutin', stompin', and eatin' on the grounds."

  "What in the hell is that?" Janet asked.

  "I have no idea at all," the man said.

  Sam began driving the streets of Becancour. The sawed-off shotgun lay fully loaded on the backseat, the .22 caliber autoloader lay on the seat beside him. One thing stuck firmly in his mind: last night, when he left the Dorgenois house, he had driven the same streets, and he had seen no cats. None at all. And he felt it was not due to the weather, for the rain had ceased long before he left.

  Now, in the light of day, the cats had once more gathered. They sat silently on the curbs, in the trees, on porches and on roofs, watching him as he drove slowly by.

  Why? Sam pondered. Why would they not gather last night as they had done in the previous nights.

  Sam did not see one single dog. Not one anywhere. He did not feel the cats had killed the dogs. Instead, he felt the dogs had simply left the town, sensing something they could not cope with. He felt the dogs had moved back into the timber, away from the danger they sensed.

  All except Dog. But Sam, like Nydia, felt that Dog was not of this earth.

  Even though Sam felt the timetable had, for whatever reason, been moved up, and events rushing toward the inevitable confrontation between Good and Evil, Light md Dark, the town still appeared normal—normal, that is, to anyone not familiar with what was going on.

  But Sam could feel the ugly evil surrounding him as he drove the streets. He looked at the people sitting on the porches, looking back at him.

  'Gone," Sam muttered. "They're gone. Their souls have turned black."

  Then, that little something that had been nagging at him came to the fore.

  He stopped the car in the middle of the street.

  He could see men and women; he could see lots of teenagers.

  But there were no young children.

  He drove on, very slowly now, his eyes moving from side to side, studying the people on the porches.

  No young kids.

  But where had they gone?

  Sam had no answer for that, and none came to him.

  But he could hope.

  He'd mention it to? … To whom? The entire group gathered back at the Dorgenois home? No, he didn't think so. He did not know whether he trusted them all. So he would mention it to Father Javotte and perhaps a few others.

  He drove the streets, finding conditions much the same wherever he went: people sitting on chairs and in porch swings, staring at him, their faces either sullen or openly hostile.

  The sad thing is, Sam thought, many of them have gone over to the Dark Side and didn't know why it happened to them.

  Sam recalled something one of his professors had said one time during a small gathering in his home. The man had been a minister for a good many years before leaving the pulpit for a classroom. "It isn't easy being Christian, Sam. A great many people are kidding themselves, lying to themselves about having accepted Christ. I have had and will continue to have some spirited debates with my good Catholic friends on that very subject." He had glanced around the group, a twinkle in his eyes. "I see several of you who are Catholic. I hope it won't come as a shock to you when I say that I know many, many priests who don't believe that a person can live a lifetime of sin and at the moment of death, be forgiven? Does that shock any of you?"

  It had not shocked a single person in the room. It certainly had not shocked Sam, for he had many friends who had either grown up in the Catholic Church or were actively attending it … they didn't believe it either.

  "Oh, I don't either!" Father Javotte said. "And in that respect, I'm a practicing hypocrite. I personally believe that a person who has been a miserable jerk all his life will die a miserable jerk, no matter what mortal man speaks over them. I certainly am not Jesus Christ, although I know some priests who behave as if they were. But, of course, that is not confined solely to Catholics. You have not had the pleasure of meeting Cliff Lester, have you?"

  "No. I haven't. Should I look forward to it?"

  "No. That reminds me of something. Oh, yes. Today is the day that Lester and his … flock," he spoke the words very dryly, "plan to stage a march through Becancour, protesting the girlie magazines sold in some stores. Little narrow-minded people who are setting themselves up as judges."

  "Lest they be judged, Padre?" Sam asked with a smile.

  "Yes." Javotte returned the grin. "Feel like going out for a drive, Sam?"

  "Why not?" Sam studied the priest. "You seem very calm today, Padre. What do you have up your sleeve?"

  "Eh? Oh, nothing, Sam. It's just that I've made my peace with God. I am ready."

  "Ready, Padre? I'm … not certain I follow you."

  Javotte smiled. "I have counted my blessings, and they are many, Sam. I've lived fifty-odd years, and they've been good years. I … well, I don't think I'm going to make it through this fight, Sam. I'm ready to go home."

  "You can't know that for certain, Padre."

  "I was trained as an exorcist, Sam. Believe me, I know."

  7

  Sonny and Don said they would like to ride into town with Sam and Javotte. During the ride, Sam told them about his sighting no young children during his drive earlier.

  "That is odd," the priest said.

  They were riding in Don's personal car, radio-equipped.

  "You don't think these … Satan-worshipers have harmed them, do you?" Sonny asked.

  To Sonny and Don and many of the others, including Tony, all this was like a bad dream; a dream conjured up in the mind of a psychotic, surely, but still a bad dream. One that they were hopeful would end very soon.

  It would, but for some, not the way they hoped.

  "I … don't think so," Sam said. "I think they've run. off, sensing something. I don't know why I say that. I …"

  A hard mental thrust visually shook him. Nydia's voice entered his head.

  "Sam? I have several hundred children gathered in our front yard."

  On my way, Sam thought.

  Aloud, he said, "Out to my rent house, Don. Nydia just told me there were several hundred kids gathered out there."

  "Guess that explains that," Sonny said. "But why out there?"

  Sam thought of Janet's little child, that little girl he'd seen her playing with out in the gazebo. He kept his mouth shut about that. But he was conscious of Father Javotte's eyes on him.

  "My God," Don breathed. "Look at the kids."

  Nydia met the men, Little Sam by her side, Dog beside Little Sam. Sam looked at the animal. Dog was studying the mass of children, but without particular interest in any one child.

  Sam stood with his family while the others questioned the children. Don walked up to Sam, scratching his head.

  "It's the damndest thing, Sam. The kids don't know why they came here, or really, remember coming out here. They're just … here."


  "Uh-huh," Sam said. He caught Nydia's glance. She slightly nodded her head.

  "One hundred and ninety five kids," Sonny said. "Between the ages of two and ten. Where are the ones under two and over ten?"

  "And what are we going to do with them, and where are we going to put them?" Don asked.

  The cops walked off to speak with the older kids. Sam said, very quietly, "Divide and conquer."

  "What do you mean, Sam?" Javotte asked.

  "One of those cute little girls is going to be the daughter of Janet Sakall. My daughter." Quickly, briefly, Sam told the priest what happened in New York State almost a year and a half ago.

  "Then the child would be one of the very young ones?" the priest asked.

  "Not necessarily."

  "I don't understand."

  "You've seen the beautiful woman at the Dorgenois house, Xaviere?"

  "Yes."

  "She's about four years old."

  "Brothers and sisters," Cliff Lester spoke from the pulpit. "Thank you all for coming." His eyes swept the crowded church. "But where are all the lovely young children?"

  "They've all gone, Brother Lester," a woman spoke.

  "Gone?" Lester thundered. "What do you mean, gone?"

  "They all left their homes early this morning. When we tried to stop them, they fought us and ran away."

  Brother Lester pounded the pulpit, his face turning beet red. "It's those pornographic-readin' heathens in town! They've seized our children for sex slaves! Why, there is no tellin' what perverted acts have been performed on them by now. It's all them filthy trashy books and magazines that are sold in this community. Lord!" He raised his arms. "Give us a sign!"

  Brother Lester about had a coronary when a car backfired out in the street.

  Composing himself, he gripped the sides of his pulpit, took a deep breath, and said, "Brothers and sisters, it has come to my attention that there are some in this town who believe that Satan …" He pounded the pulpit for emphasis. "… Satan walks among us." He glared at his congregation. He stage-whispered, "Well, I believe it, too."

  Collective sigh from the congregation.

  "Yes!" he roared. "It's them people who sell and read them filthy books and magazines. They have poisoned their minds and darkened their souls glarin' at them glossies and devourin' them nasty words. And now they've taken our children!" His voice rose to a near hysteria pitch. "Oh, Great God!" he roared. "It is up to us, your mortal servants, to right the wrong, to fight the good fight, to bring truth and light and hope to the members of this community who have strayed so far off the path of righteousness. Today is the day, Lord!" he shouted, pounding the pulpit.

  Lester warmed up to the subject. He waved his arms and stamped his feet and got so excited he slipped into the Unknown Tongue.

  Some of his flock felt the excitement and rose from their pews, waving their arms and dancing in the aisles and speaking in Tongues. Some of the seated Brothers watched the rolling hips of some of the prancing Sisters. Their thoughts were not exactly pristine.

  Cliff Lester really got into the spirit. He jumped from the raised platform, rolled up his sleeves, and joined in the passing parades of Tongue-speakin' Brothers and Sisters.

  "I'm calling in some outside help," Don announced. He reached for his mike.

  Sam, Father Javotte, and Sonny stood outside Don's car and watched him, saying nothing.

  The deputy hesitated. "Well?" he demanded. "Give me some input on this."

  "Go ahead," Sam told him. "It should be interesting.

  Don lifted the mike to his lips. He cut his eyes, looking at the men outside the car. "I'm going to tell them I've got a bad situation here in Becancour. I'm going to tell them …" He replaced the mike on the hook and laid his head on the steering wheel. "I could tell them I've got almost two hundred children who just ran off from home. That's really a felony offense, isn't it? I could tell them that last night there were sex parties all over town, couldn't I? I could tell them that old man R. M. Dorgenois has turned into a … werewolf, couldn't I? I could tell them that most people didn't go to work this morning, couldn't I? That the town is full of cats. Somebody worked all this out real good, didn't they?"

  "They always do," Sam told him.

  "Couldn't we have some deputies and state troopers standing by to move in when the lid finally does pop off?" Don said.

  Sonny leaned against the car. "I sure as hell would hate to be the one to talk to the colonel down in Baton Rouge. I'd sure hate to be the one to tell him we need help up here because Satan is in town."

  Don closed his eyes and cursed, low and long. "OK, then. Somebody tell me this: why us? I'm not particularly religious. I go to church, but so do, or at least they did, nearly all of those people who have gone over to the … other side. And I don't wanna hear Scriptures, Father. You tell me in plain ol' English. Why us?"

  A very good question, the priest thought. And one that I have no ready answer for.

  He was conscious of Don's eyes on him.

  "Sam!" Nydia called. "We've got to do something with these children. Many of them are hungry and all of them are frightened."

  Sam nodded his head, acknowledging her statement.

  Don waited for the priest to reply.

  "I don't know, Don," Javotte finally spoke. "I just don't know."

  Don wearily nodded his head in understanding. "Well, I don't understand it either, Father. I just hope someone can explain it when this … mess is all over."

  No one will, Sam thought. Because no one will really understand it. I've been trying to understand this and situations like it for several years. I'm no closer to the truth now than I was then.

  Sam looked at the mass of children. There would be no use in trying to ferret out Janet's child. Whatever little friend she had latched onto would be totally within the demon child's power. One child, ten children, all of the children would lie for the little girl … not willingly, but because they would have no choice in the matter.

  Sam looked at Don, sitting glumly behind the wheel of his car. For a moment, Sam mentally wavered, almost told Don to go on, call in, at least we could get the kids out of here.

  But Sam knew that would only delay matters; a day, a week, a month, a year. But this town had been chosen by the Dark One, and sooner or later, Light must combat Dark.

  What was it that God's Mercenary had told Little Sam in the boy's dreams? Yeah. Time for Sam to start kicking ass and taking names.

  All right. So be it.

  "Sonny?" Sam called, making up his mind. "How many department stores are open today? Or did you notice?"

  "I think every one is open, Sam. There's just no customers."

  "There is about to be. You and Don go to the school parking lot and get a couple of buses. Use them to take the kids to the clinic. Any spillover we'll house at the mansion."

  "How are we going to get a couple of buses?" Sonny asked.

  "Steal them," Father Javotte said.

  "Father!" Don protested.

  The priest lost his temper. "Dammit, Don! Get it through your head that we're in a war. A war! And we're badly outnumbered. Now move your ass, boy!"

  "Yes, sir!" Don said.

  The cops noticed the streets were almost completely deserted. It gave them both a very eerie feeling. Sam had asked them to stop by the mansion and get Tony and Mike and go to the department stores, get all the sheets and blankets and pillows they could find.

  "You ever steal anything, Sonny?" Don asked the chief.

  "Not since I was a kid and we used to swipe hubcaps. That stopped when the cops took me down to the station house and beat the hell out of me. You?"

  "I never stole anything," Don said, his voice full of gloom.

  "You sound tike you're sorry you didn't?"

  "No, not really. It's just … well, I was so straight when I was a kid. And it was little bit different than when you were a kid, Sonny. Things were a lot more wide open when I was a kid. But I never did anything wrong. 01' st
raight-arrow Lenoir, that's me."

  "Is this leading somewhere, Don?"

  "I don't know. Maybe. You ever been unfaithful to your wife, Sonny?"

  "Only in my mind. Me and Jane been … was, that is, married for twenty-two years." He fell silent.

  "Did she? …"

  "Yeah. A couple of times that I know of. I see what you're getting at, but it won't wash, Don. Far as I know, and this bein' a small town, we'd both know, Dr. Whitson's wife didn't run around on him. Frank and Thelma Lovern been like two love birds for as long as I can remember. Same with a lot of people we saw in those pictures."

  "Guess that shoots down that theory, doesn't it?"

  "Keep trying. Maybe you'll hit on it. God knows …" He laughed, somewhat bitterly. "… I'd damn sure like to know the why of it all."

  "You reckon we ever will?"

  "Maybe." He pulled into the bus parking area of the school. "Providing we live through it."

  8

  For the first time in several days, Xaviere's mood was upbeat. The Princess of Darkness had even attempted several small jabs at humor. Her followers at the old Dorgenois house had laughed loudly and long.

  Yes, Xaviere felt good. Those silly, vain Christians had taken in the children—as she had known they would—and Janet's child, Bess, was among them. Bess, with most of the others, were being housed at the clinic. The rest were with that small band of resistors at the newer Dorgenois house, with Colter. Yes, things were definitely looking up.

  But she wondered about old R. M. He had been so strong at first; Xaviere had almost given up in her quest to change the old fart into that which she knew he was. Then, suddenly, the old man had shifted.

  She shook her head. She didn't understand that part of it. She scratched her head and picked a flea from her scalp, crushing the little insect between two long, sharp fingernails.

  The once beautiful home positively reeked of body odors. Cobwebs hung in silver-gray ropes in the corners. And cats were everywhere.

  Xaviere was just a bit nervous about the coming night. She knew the Master would be terribly angry if she called him out too soon. And when the Dark One became angry … matters could turn very grim—in a hurry.