"Holy water," the priest said. "I stopped by the church this afternoon and stocked up, so to speak."
"I hope you filled up a tanker truck with it," the trooper said.
Rita's shaking was visible to them all. Norris stepped close to her and put his arm around the woman. "Hey, Rita. We're gonna make it. Believe it, honey. 'Cause I think you gotta believe it."
He walked with her back into the well-lighted house. Javotte looked at Sam. "Did you feel it when the Dark One made his appearance, Sam?"
"Yes. And not only Satan, but all his aides and chieftains as well. This is going to be a struggle right up to the last second, Padre."
"I never doubted it. But why do you think so?"
"Because he wants to destroy Nydia, Little Sam, and me."
Jackson Dorgenois lay on the floor. He knew he had come close to final death several times, and that had confused him, for he had been promised eternal life when he gave his soul to the Master of Filth. Then Jackson began to understand the Why of it all.
The Master had not guaranteed him eternal life in any one specific form.
Despite his pain, Jackson had to laugh, his laughter drawing some curious looks from Bonnie. They were alone, Mary having gone to the gathering in the field.
"Something amusing, Jackson?" Bonnie asked.
"I'm goin' to die, Bonnie. At least this form of me is going to die."
"I know. I sensed it. You are to be what you have always wanted to be."
Jackson closed his eyes. "At last," he whispered.
A huge dark shape appeared on the front porch.
Brother Cliff Lester had walked slowly through the darkened streets of Becancour, back to his church. He had been walking when the stinking storm had erupted, showering him with urine and shit.
But as usual, Brother Lester got it all wrong. "It's punishment on the town for toleratin' all them nasty, filthy books and magazines and sex movies," he muttered. "God has sent the devil into this town. He has allowed Satan to enter as punishment. The town has become a haven for sinners; for them that has sold their souls into darkness."
"Amen, Brother Lester!" The voice had sprung out of the darkness.
It was Sister Edna and Sister Bertha and Brother Ira. They stepped out to meet him.
" 'Bout forty of the flock is a-waitin' at the church," he said. "The rest has forsaken us, runnin' in fear."
"They are like lambs runnin' toward the wolves," Brother Lester said.
"Amen!" Sister Edna said, and began to get in the spirit right there on the street.
"No time for that now!" Brother Lester calmed her before she got carried away. "We've got to make our plans, Brothers and Sisters."
"You lead and we'll follow!" Sister Bertha said. That made Brother Lester feel good!
"Please help us!" Sheri called toward the back door of the clinic. "For God's sake, please, somebody, anybody!"
Don Lenoir ran outside and peered into the murky gloom of evil night. "Who is it?"
"It's Sheri, Deputy. From Janson's Drive-in. Please help us. Trixie's been raped and they've taken Mr. Janson."
"Might be a trap," Bid Grenier said, stepping out to stand by Don.
"Cover me." Don ran toward the ill-defined shapes huddled close to the street. When he saw Trixie's torn uniform and the blood all over Sheri, he knew the girls were in trouble and it was no trap.
He led them into the clinic and closed and locked the back door.
" 'Allo, the house!" Jobert called. "You there, Madame Dorgenois, Nous y void!"
"Is 'at you, Jobert?" Colter called, cracking the front door just a bit.
" 'At's rat. Me and some folks come quick to rat here."
"You best be on the right side, Jobert," Colter told him.
"I sure hope we are, madame. One thing for sure, though, we got shut of 'at fool Cliff Lester. He din believe no devil was in town."
"Anybody smart enough to get rid of that idiot Lester has to have full possession of his faculties," Colter said. "That man is an insult to the ministry."
"I concur," Javotte said.
"Come on in, Jobert!" Colter called. "We're going to need all the help we can get."
Inside the expensively furnished home, the front door closed and locked, Jobert stood with Colter for a moment. "Was 'at what I thought it was fallin' from the sky a while ago?"
"Yes." She smiled and sniffed daintily. "You must have sought shelter, Jobert."
"Did for a fact." He introduced his little group.
"Mr. Jobert," Sam said. "What do you suppose this Lester person will do now?"
"Sam, I reckon only the Lord could answer that. If the Lord even pays any attention to people like Cliff Lester, that is."
Elmer and Alma and Benny shuffled their feet and looked awfully uncomfortable.
"I shouldn't 'ave said that," Jobert apologized.
"It's all right, Jobert," Elmer said. "For right now, I just wish somebody would tell me what in the world is going on."
"Come on into the den, Mr. Elmer," Colter said, waving her hand. "I'll let Sam Balon explain. I'm an old woman, and I'm tired. I'm going to bed."
As the hands of time marched steadily toward the hour of midnight, a quiet calm settled over the town of Becancour. The field where Satan and his aides were summoned lay quiet in the night, all trappings of black magic had been removed. The Beasts had slipped back into the timber and the swamps surrounding the town. The cats had broken up into small groups and scattered about the town. Xaviere and her entourage had returned to the Dorgenois mansion. They were certain now of victory.
A group of Satan's believers had gone to Janson's drive-in and cleaned up the mess; the drive-in now looked perfectly normal. A closed sign was hung in the door.
The Devil worshipers had broken up their gathering and most had returned to their stinking, filthy homes. The Master had asked that Becancour appear normal to any salespeople or route men who might travel through the next day. The Dark One had promised victory; had told them all that from this moment on, day or night was acceptable for activities toward total victory … just be discreet about it. There was no need to rush.
The clouds had swept away, the stinking storm had vanished, and the skies had cleared.
A great black panther now roamed the streets of the small Louisiana town; a huge cat with strangely human eyes. A pale lovely woman walked with the panther, a white hand sometimes on the great cat's neck.
The woman and the panther prowled through the murky darkness.
Lula's Love-Inn was filled with unwashed human flesh. The men and women and boys and girls sprawled on the floor, exhausted after a night of sexual perversion.
The young assistant manager at the convenience store who had popped Brother Lester on the snoot had fought his last battle; what was left of him lay in bloody rags in a ditch not far from his home.
The cats had eaten well that night.
Guards had been posted at Colter's home; the others slept fitfully.
Don and Sonny had moved their radios to the clinic and to Colter's home, to keep some appearance of normalcy in case someone in what they now all called "the outside world" tried to contact them.
Mrs. Wheeler slept very lightly, her shotgun and pistol close by her bed.
Brother Lester and his flock had gone to their homes and found weapons, then returned to the church. Brother Lester had jerked and moaned and spoken in Tongues and had a vision. In his so-called vision, an angel had appeared, giving him instructions. Brother Lester now knew what he and his followers must do.
They must destroy the residents of Becancour, for the angel had said so. What remained of his flock was the hard-core, the fanatics, the intolerant of anyone not believing as they did, and if Brother Lester said he had a vision … Brother Lester had a vision, and that was that.
And at the clinic, a small form was changing shape, while outside, in the hot darkness, the dead were walking.
16
Dog growled low in his throat. Little S
am opened his eyes.
"Not yet," the child whispered to Dog. "But soon. Very soon."
Dog looked at him through his mismatched eyes. Little Sam nodded his head. Dog lay back down on the tile floor of the clinic room and closed his eyes. Child of God and animal of God waited for the Dark One's demon to make its move.
An hour passed, no one noticed the almost invisible mist that crept throughout the clinic, hugging closely to the floor.
No one except Nydia, Little Sam, and Dog.
All the others were deep in sleep, all touched by the mist, deepening their sleep. At the back door of the clinic, Don had slumped to the floor, his chin on his chest, asleep. At the front of the clinic, Dr. Oscar Martin was stretched out on the floor, asleep.
On a couch in the waiting room, Guy Dorgenois sat up as the mist touched his bare feet.
But it was not the Little Guy Dorgenois his mother would have recognized.
The mist had crawled up the child's legs, scaling them, turning the feet into hooved, pointed, and clawed extremities. The mist crept onward, slicking the scales with slime, turning the arms into ropy muscles, covered with coarse thick hair. The neck and head had changed, the neck shortening, the head enlarging. The teeth were thick and misshapen and pointed, the mouth wide, the lips heavy and cruel. The nose had flattened, more like a pig than a human. The eyes were set wide apart and crooked. The ears were large and pointed, the top of the head hairless, covered with scales that oozed slime. The hands were clawed and powerful, with long yellow pointed fingernails.
Guy Dorgenois had become what Satan had decreed he was born to be.
The demon child slipped from the couch and walked toward the front of the clinic, its front-hooved and back-clawed feet clicking on the coolness of the tile floor. The demon squatted over the sleeping Oscar Martin and bent its head, sinking its teeth into the doctor's neck. With a sharp twist, the doctor's throat was ripped open, the hot blood gushing in torrents. That which had once been Guy lapped at the blood, feeling strength enter its squatty, powerful body.
Guy peeled flesh from the doctor, stuffing the bloody strips of meat into its wide toothy mouth, chewing greedily, savoring the hot flesh. It smacked its lips in satisfaction and peeled more meat from the body, eating faster now as more strength filled the demon. Guy broke off the doctor's fingers, one by one, and stuck them into its mouth, shredding the flesh from them, cracking the bones and sucking out the marrow. The demon ripped open Oscar's stomach and began pulling out ropes of intestines, stuffing them into its mouth, smacking as it glutted itself on flesh and blood and organs.
Little Sam and Dog and Nydia lay in the air-conditioned coolness of the clinic and listened to the spawn of Hell stuff its belly.
Nydia knew her powers were, at the least, equal to Little Sam's. But she knew, without knowing precisely how she knew, that this was her son's fight, and his alone.
The sounds of the demon's eating faded. Seconds later, his hooved and clawed feet were heard on the clinic floor. Little Sam looked at Dog looking at him. Little Sam nodded his head. The animal growled low, not liking what he sensed; but he obeyed. He rose and backed away from the open door.
Little Sam swung his feet off the bed and quickly dressed in his little jeans and shoes. Looking once at his mother, the little boy stepped out into the hallway.
There was twenty feet between child of Hell and child of God. Little Sam stood alone, facing the creature in the darkness of the hall. The demon opened his hideous mouth and howled at Sam. Slime dripped off the scales and hair of the creature to fall in stinking puddles on the tile.
The demon's eyes began to shine with a strange and eerie light.
Little Sam's eyes began to shine with a pure white light.
Light of God met the corruptive light of Hell. With eyes locked, the small boy and the demon quickly found that one could not best the other in this manner.
The demon, screaming its hate, charged Little Sam. Sam sidestepped and tripped the demon, sending it sprawling and howling and sliding down the hall.
Creature of Hell leaped to his feet, its clawed hands, the claws needle-sharp, whipping the air as it advanced on Sam. Sam stood his position in the hall. Waiting.
The demon charged, howling and slobbering, the spittle running in foul streams out of its mouth, its hooves and claws scratching and tearing the tile as it came.
Little Sam faked the little demon, stepping as if to once more trip the creature, and just at the last split second, darting back the way he had come. Off balance, the demon stumbled as it tried to recover. It made the mistake of stepping into the room with Dog. With a growl of intense hate, Dog's massive jaws opened and clamped down on the demon's leg. Dog tore off a hunk of scales and hair and meat. The demon screamed in pain.
Dog spat out the mess in disgust.
The demon raised his muscular arms and charged Little Sam. Sam met the charge and kicked out with one shoe, the toe of the shoe catching the creature between its legs, almost lifting it off the tile. Shrieking in pain, with stinking puke rolling out of its mouth, the demon tumbled to the floor, for the moment, helpless.
Little Sam's eyes began glowing with a fierce new intensity, the light white-hot from the powers bestowed upon him from beyond the Heavens. The demon's hair was the first to begin smoldering, then burst into flames.
Satan's own began squalling as the flames moved over his hideous body, finally covering the head. The sounds of his cooking brains bubbled throughout the clinic.
The mist had abated, those asleep coming awake and running to the sounds of battle. They stood and gazed in awe at the little boy with the glowing eyes. Then their eyes shifted to the awfulness on the floor.
Sam turned, the light in his eyes fading. "Guy Dorgenois," he said. Then turned and walked back into his room, to join his mother and Dog.
Little Sam put his arms around his mother's waist and began crying …
… just like any other normal little boy.
Bonnie and the great panther had paused, briefly, at the home of Mrs. Wheeler, but neither one wanted to tangle with the old woman … just yet. The great cat and the woman looked at the sprawled bodies of the young people in the front yard. They moved on, to prowl silently through the hot, still night.
The cats rested throughout the town.
The Beasts prowled the fringes of the town, occasionally finding one or two cats by themselves. The Beasts silently killed them and ate them.
For even among the ranks of the followers of the Dark One, there is jealousy.
And the night grew very hot, and very still. The town of Becancour lay like a ticking time bomb, ready to explode.
THE SECOND DAY OF THREE
"It looks so quiet and so peaceful," Matt Comeaux said, gazing at the just broken dawn of day.
"It won't be for long," Sam said, stepping out onto the porch. He carried a wooden mallet and a half dozen sharpened stakes.
Father Javotte was with him, his arms full of stakes, a mallet in his hand.
With the exception of Tess and Colter, who were with the children in the house, the others gathered on the porch. Their eyes were on the stakes in the hands of the men.
"Might as well get my feet wet," Trooper Norris said.
"I got a pretty good idea why you got those stakes, but lemme ask a question."
"Why wait until the day?" Javotte asked.
"Yes, sir."
"Because most likely, unless Satan has changed the rules of the game, those truly possessed will be forced to sleep during the day. We can find them asleep, and kill them.
"The rules of the … game? Just like maybe one troop plays another in softball? A … game?"
"The oldest game in the world's history," Sam said. "God versus Satan."
Norris nodded his head and swallowed hard. "When ever you guys are ready."
Sam looked at Jobert. "Jobert? I'll ask you to stay here and guard those in the house, with Chief Passon."
"Honored, Sam," the old ex-Legionnaire
said. "I did not surrender at Dien Bien Phu, and I shall not surrender here."
"I'll go with you, too," Matt said. "If I might make a suggestion? …"
"Sure."
"I'll ride with Father Javotte, you with Trooper Norris. We might be able to …" He shook his head and swallowed. "… accomplish more by splitting up."
"Good idea," Sam said, handing the Louisiana trooper a half dozen stakes. "You ready?"
"I reckon."
"They are coming, Princess," Janet told Xaviere.
"They are fools!" The Princess of Darkness spat the words. "Overconfident mortals who shall soon be destroyed."
"The Dorgenois demon faced no mortal," the Princess was reminded.
Princess Xaviere's smile was ugly. "But the priest and Sam and the others coming this morning are mortals. The Master promised us victory this time."
"Yes, Princess. But of course. And there is still my daughter, Bess."
"She can destroy the Balon Bastard tonight. Advise her of that."
"Look for them in sheds and in darkened houses," Sam told the trooper. "Be very careful and don't let one bite you."
"Just like in the movies, I'll become one?"
"Just like in the movies."
"What in the hell is that down there?" Trooper Norris pointed.
Sam squinted his eyes against the bright sunlight. The temperature was already, before seven o'clock, in the nineties.
"I don't know."
"Oh, shit!" the trooper said. "That's Cliff Lester and bis bunch."
"They've got enough guns, that's for sure."
Norris let off the brake and moved his patrol car forward, stopped in the middle of the street. He and Sam got out to confront Cliff Lester.
"Get out of our way!" Brother Lester shouted at the men. "Or we'll roll right over you. We are the Army of the Lord."
"I thought that's what we were," James Norris muttered.
'I wish you would all join us," Sam said. "We'd stand a better chance of defeating Satan."
But he knew when he said it, his words were falling on deaf ears.
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