The others ripped loose the fingers, breaking them off and dropping them one by one to the floor. The fingers crawled around like large white worms. One tried to crawl up Tess's leg and she screamed and kicked it away.
"Bum them!" Sam yelled. "Burn them!"
Matt was helped to a chair, the marks on his neck raw and red and turning blue. He struggled for life-giving breath.
Then those in the house felt it.
The silence around them.
They walked to the windows and looked out into the lighted night. The grounds were littered with the bodies of hundreds of cats and dogs. Nearer the house, a line of dogs and cats stood, facing the bloody battleground, guarding those in the house.
"Call the clinic," Romy said. "See about them."
"They need help," Sam said, hearing Nydia's voice in his head. "It's far from being over." He grabbed up an armload of stakes. "Holy Water, Padre?" he asked the priest.
Javotte nodded.
Sam said, "James, Padre, Romy, Tess … let's go."
24
Gangs of wild-eyed men and women and teenagers, some armed with clubs of all kinds, beat at the cars and pickup as the small band fought their way through the night, shattering windshields and side windows as the small team drove past them. Gunfire from the vehicles slashed at the night, rolling thunder boomed from the muzzles of pistols and shotguns.
"It's insanity!" Romy yelled.
"Hang on!" Sam told him. "The worst is yet before us."
Romy crossed himself and in the next instant shot a man between the eyes.
A teenage girl leaped onto the hood of the pickup truck. Her eyes were savage and filth rolled in profane waves from her mouth. She beat at the windshield with a claw-hammer.
Sam slammed on the brakes, sending the girl sliding off the hood. He swerved around her. The car behind him ran over her, crushing her beneath the tires.
"Connie," Sam heard Romy whisper. "I was her softball coach two years ago."
"She just struck out," Sam said shortly.
"I can't take any more of this!" Romy screamed.
Sam's right hand left the steering wheel and struck the man on the mouth, backhanding his head back, bloodying his lips.
"You'll take it or you'll die!" Sam said. "Think about that."
Romy began praying.
The small convoy reached the clinic. The men jumped out, weapons of the Lord in their hands.
The men and women attacking the clinic turned to meet them.
Those inside the clinic rushed out, boxing in the attackers.
It was a quick, bloody, and savage few moments. The night grew eerily silent. Someone vomited on the ground. Others were weeping; some gasped for breath in the hot night. Others were trembling uncontrollably.
Father Javotte, his clothing splattered with blood, walked among the carnage. "The Claverie brothers," he said, his voice carrying through the night. "All three of them."
"This is Mr. Authement," Romy said.
"Earl Morris and his wife," Mike Laborn said.
"Cliff Lester's wife here," another called. "Lucille."
"Mayor Jolevare and Betty here."
Other names were called out. But a lot were missing. And Sam knew they would have to be dealt with at first light. He looked up as Nydia joined his side. He glanced at Father Javotte. "Take care of Little Sam for us, Padre. We have things to do while it's still night."
"All right," the priest said.
Sam glanced at his watch. Just about an hour until dawn. "I think we're going to be too late.
Sam and Nydia drove to the old Dorgenois home, parking in the drive. The gates had been opened, slung back hastily. Weaponless, husband and wife walked through the large old home. The inner foulness was hideously offensive to both of them. They prowled every room, opened every door, looked in every closet, under every stinking bed and pile of filthy clothing. Nothing. The home was deserted.
On the ground floor, Sam found a box of matches and set the drapes blazing. As he did so, a hot, stinking wind picked up outside.
Sam lost his temper. "Do something!" he shouted. "We're only human. We're mortals. Help us!"
The sounds of a hard slap was heard, the sound of it thundering across the skies. The stinking wind ceased. The night was dead calm.
Nydia looked at Sam. "I don't believe I would have had the courage to speak to Him in that tone of voice."
Sam allowed himself a very small and tight smile. "It worked, didn't it?"
Hand in hand, the couple left the burning house and walked out into the now-flame-lit night.
THE LAST DAY
At dawn, the men and women and few teenagers who had been barricaded at the clinic and in the Dorgenois mansion split up into teams. They all carried stakes. They started at the south end of town and worked north, going from house to house, store to store, building to building.
It seemed the awful screaming and the seemingly endless hammering would never end.
But it did, finally. And finally, the population of Becancour changed.
For the better, most thought.
But the searchers, bloody and weary, never found the great black panther. And they never found Mary Claverie.
And Dave Porter had vanished.
They found the orderly from the clinic and returned him to the grave, with a little bit of extra wood in the casket.
But they never found the torn man.
Carl Nichols was in the principal's office at the high school, snarling and spitting and hissing like a cat.
Matt Comeaux ended Carl's life.
Sister Ilene was found by Cliff Lester and Father Javotte. Javotte handed the man a stake.
Half a dozen times the searchers felt eyes on them, silently watching. Sam told them they were probably feeling the dead orderly's eyes.
And probably always would.
It was high noon and very hot when all felt they had found all they were going to find.
Mrs. Wheeler joined them, a shotgun still in her hands. The old woman looked at the blood-splattered men and women.
"Now comes the interesting part," the old woman said.
"What do you mean?" Don Lenoir asked.
"Explaining why we did it."
25
Romy Dorgenois didn't mess around. He went straight to the top.
"Are you serious?" the governor asked.
"Yes, sir," Romy spoke into the phone. "And I would suggest you do something very quickly, for the bodies are going to be presenting quite a health hazard before very long."
"I'll be there just as fast as I can," the governor promised.
Attorney General Millet and Governor Andrews and Colonel Piper of the Louisiana State Police made a flyby of the town before landing at the small airstrip. Colonel Piper had ordered the troop commander of that area to meet him … and bring every goddamned trooper he could find.
"Look at the bodies down there!" Attorney General Millet breathed, gazing down from five hundred feet at the town of Becancour.
"Please God," Governor Andrews muttered. "No press on this. Please?"
On the ground, Colonel Piper met the troop commander. "You say you had a man in here while all this was going on?"
"Yes, sir. Trooper James A. Norris."
"Get him!"
After listening to James for ten seconds, Colonel Piper took off his hat. Twenty seconds later he threw the hat on the ground. A minute later he was jumping up and down on it.
"Goddammit, Norris, you are a Louisiana State Trooper. You do not go around hammering stakes into peoples' hearts." The colonel paused. "Did you read them their rights?" The colonel frowned. "What am I saying!"
"Are you ill, sir?" Norris asked.
"Am I ill? You've been seeing hobgobblins and vampires and zombies and werewolves and, and, God only knows what else, and you're asking me who is ill?"
"Perhaps you'd like to sit down in the shade, sir?" Norris suggested.
Colonel Piper went wandering off, muttering to
himself. He was very, very glad he was retiring that year. Most happy.
A Louisiana State Health officer, who asked to remain anonymous, offered to make a suggestion.
"I wish somebody would," Governor Andrews said.
"A water-borne bacteria, sir. Somebody poisoned the water supply. I would suggest we get the bodies buried as quickly as possible and then seal off the town."
Governor Andrews looked at Father Javotte. "You don't like that idea, Father?"
"Burn them," the priest said.
"Father Javotte!" Governor Andrew said. "This is not the dark ages. I can't give any orders to burn human bodies."
"You'll live to regret it," the priest warned.
The tone of the priest's voice caused the governor to shudder.
Thousands of pictures were taken, of the dead humans, the cats, the Beasts, the bloody stakes, the torn bodies. Senior State Troopers from all over the state were called in to body-bag the dead.
The press was squalling to be allowed in.
They were kept out while helicopters hovered above the town to prevent light aircraft from doing any flybys.
Those residents of Becancour who had been caught in limbo were interviewed. They could remember nothing. They didn't even know what day it was. They were confused and disoriented.
The President of the United States called the governor of Louisiana.
"What's going on down there?" the President asked.
"Voodoo, black magic, devil worship, zombies, werewolves," the governor replied.
There was a long pause from Washington, D. C. Then the President laughed. "Well, that's what you get when you have such a large percentage of registered Democrats."
The governor, a Democrat, said, "I suppose that is as good an explanation as any, Mister President."
26
"Where will you go and what will you do?" Father Javotte asked Sam and Nydia.
Little Sam and Dog were in the car, waiting.
"We will go wherever there is a need for our services," Nydia said. "We will do what has to be done."
"I don't have to tell either of you that it isn't over here."
"It will never be over here, Padre," Sam said. "We didn't get them all. But you will. You and Tony and Sonny and Don and the others. You've got a fight ahead of you."
Javotte nodded his head. "I wish you all would stay. We could use your help."
"You don't need us," Nydia told him. "You all know who they are. They'll surface again."
They were all conscious of Lula and Jules leaning against a building, watching them.
A teenage girl walked over to Lula, holding something in her hand. She spoke to Lula and the three of them laughed. The girl stepped away and held up a can of spray paint. On the bare wall of the building, she spray-painted the outline of a large cat.
And somewhere back in the dark bayous …
… a big panther screamed.
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The Devil's Cat Page 27
