The Devil's Laughter

by William W. Johnstone

  “Yes. And if you help me, you can be charged. Sounds stupid, but it’s true. Be damn sure you want to do this, Tom.”

  “Ray knows,” the young deputy said. “And no, I didn’t tell him a thing. Hell, I don’t know anything to tell him. He said for me to help you in whatever you wanted to do. He’s all torn up inside, Link. He feels really bad about what he said today.”

  “We both spoke hard words, Tom. It’s over and forgotten as far as I’m concerned. After you drop me off tonight, Tom, you come right back here and stay until I return, okay?”

  “Whatever you say, Link.”

  “You won’t have a car,” Anne said. “How will you get back?”

  “I’ll get back.” He looked at Tom. “You seen Cliff Sweeney?”

  Tom smiled. “He’s busy doing repair work out at Gerard’s. Gerard’s wife told me that Preacher Belenger came out and he and Cliff talked for a long time. Reverend Belenger is ready to, as he put it, ’take up the sword and fight to the death.’ ”

  “Then they haven’t done as we planned?”

  “You mean stay in groups? No. I think they’re screwing up by not doing it.”

  “So do I.” Link finished his coffee and stood up. “I’ll get my gear. Finish your coffee, Tom. We’ve got plenty of time. I’ve got a hunch the . . . festivities won’t start until midnight. I just want to get in place.”

  Tom and Anne sat down at the table. “He’s going out to kill, isn’t he, Tom?”

  “I imagine.”

  “Does it bother you?”

  He met her eyes. “To tell you the truth, no. There are a lot of snakeheads in this world, Mrs. Brooks. And society would be a whole lot better off without them. There’s a saying that goes something like: The death of any man diminishes me. Something like that. I think that’s crap, ma’am. If people won’t abide by even the simplest of society’s rules, if all they do is cause trouble, what the hell’s the point of keeping them around?”

  She smiled at the young man. “I see Link Donovan has another convert.”

  He grinned sheepishly and for a moment looked like a little boy. But the gun he wore in a shoulder holster under his jacket was man-sized, and Anne had no doubts that he would not hesitate to use it. “What’s happening in this town is scary, ma’am. But I think it’s indicative of what’s happening all over the United States. Link says this nation is morally bankrupt and I agree with him. The people are going to have to take back the streets; the cops can’t do it alone.”

  “You think Link is right in refusing to leave here?”

  “You’re damn right I do, ma’am. He’s fighting for what is his, and I think any law-abiding person has the right to do that. To hell with what lawyers say.” He studied her face for a moment. “You love him, Mrs. Brooks?”

  “Stop calling me ma’am and Mrs. Brooks. My name is Anne. Yes, I think I do, Tom. I’m pretty sure I do.”

  “He’s a good man, ma’ ... Anne. But he’s not going to take any crap off of anybody. And he’s not going to be pushed. If he has to kill every one of these coven members, he’ll do it, even if he has to do it alone.”

  “Yes. And that frightens me, Tom. Do you have any idea what Link has planned for tonight?”

  “No. I don’t.”

  Link spoke from behind them and both of them jumped. “I’m going to a black mass. And I won’t be a welcome guest.”

  “Where, Link?” Tom asked.

  “Judge Jackson’s home. I think they used to hold those evil things out at the Romaire complex. I’d bet on that. But now I think it’s going to be held at Judge Jackson’s estate. At least that’s what Grubb told me right before he died.”

  “There’ll be guards there, Link,” Anne said.

  Link smiled. “There won’t be when I’m through.”

  Chapter 3

  Anne surprised Link when, on the front porch, she put her arms around him and kissed him thoroughly.

  He grinned at her. “That ought to hold me.”

  “You come back here, Link Donovan. Don’t you leave me here alone with two kids to raise. They need a father, and I’ve decided you’re it.”

  “Oh? Well, thanks for consulting with me.”

  “I didn’t need to. Just come back to me.”

  “I shall R.I.P., dear.”

  “Rest in peace!”

  “No,” he said with a grin. “Return if possible.”

  “Get out of here!” she told him, then stood on the darkened porch and watched him play with his dogs for a moment, as if he were routinely going off to work. Which, she thought, he was, in a manner of speaking. But work that was anything but routine.

  “Mother,” Betsy called from the house. “Will Mr. Link be back?”

  “Of course he will, honey,” she replied with more confidence than she felt. Please God, she silently prayed. If it’s true that You like Your warriors, look after this one.

  “Look, Mother!” Betsy said, running out to her side and pointing. “Did you ever see a more beautiful falling star?”

  Anne looked and caught her breath. The star was falling very slowly, a silver, shimmering arch in the sky, soaring silently through God’s heavens. Both mother and child unknowingly made the same wish.

  “Here’s all the handcuffs you wanted, Link,” Tom said. “You plan on taking some alive?”

  “If I can, Tom. I’ve got to grab some people and learn more about this group’s plans.”

  “You going to turn them over to Ray?”

  Link glanced at him but said nothing.

  “Just asking. What’s in that big bag you tossed in the back seat?”

  “A lot of goodies, Tom. A lot of goodies.”

  “You sure you don’t want me to come with you?”

  “I’m sure. I want you back at the house guarding Anne and the kids.”

  “And your critters,” he said with a smile.

  “And my critters, Tom. Right. Turn here and come in behind the judge’s estate. When you reach the gravel cutoff, run with no lights.”

  “All right. But I still don’t like it that you’re going to be out here with no transportation.”

  Link shook his head. “A ride is the first thing, or one of the first things, I’ll line up, Tom. Don’t worry about that. If I’m not back by two or three o’clock, Tom, the odds are I won’t be back.”

  “And you want me to do – ”

  “Look after Anne and the kids, find good homes for my critters, and watch your ass.”

  The young deputy nodded and cut his lights just as they turned onto the gravel road. “Where do you want out?”

  “Right up ahead.” A few seconds passed. “Okay. Here. See you, Tom.” Link grabbed his bag, left the car, and hit the ditch. Tom rolled on.

  Link wormed his way to the heavy security-type chain link fence. He carefully attached alligator clips to the wire and watched the VU meter. It was not electrically charged. He took wire cutters from his kit and clipped a square large enough for him to crawl through, then, on the other side of the fence, he folded the wire back into place.

  Link knew both the Jacksons hated animals of any type, and there were no guard dogs prowling the grounds. But there surely would be human scum on guard. He lay on the cold ground for several moments, letting his eyes adjust to the night.

  There. He spotted one guard, about two hundred yards away, a distance from the main house. He’d take him out first. Link worked his way carefully toward the outer guard, moving silently. When he was close enough to hear, Link paused and listened. He could not detect any telltale static or voices pushing through walkie-talkies. He crept on.

  Link was within a few feet of the man when the guard lit a cigarette. The match exploded in his face. Knowing the man would be night-blind for half a minute after that, Link moved swiftly. The guard turned just as Link swung the lead-loaded sap he’d gotten from the sheriffs department, catching him right in the center of his forehead. The man hit the ground like a brick and did not move.

  Link han
dcuffed the man’s hands behind him, used one of several precut lengths of rope to lash his ankles together, and stuck a large piece of tape over the man’s mouth. He patted the man on the shoulder. “You be good now,” he whispered. “I have plans for you.”

  He squatted for a moment, checking the terrain.

  Link knew one thing for sure. He had to take out all the guards. Once he started the action – he still didn’t know exactly what he was going to do – the area had to be free of guards or any hope for escape was gone.

  He crouched for several minutes, his eyes constantly moving. He spotted another guard, this one walking toward his position. Link slowly stood up and waited. He was a little shorter than the man now trussed up on the ground, but with the night black and moonless and cloudy, he didn’t think the one who approached would be able to see the difference. He hoped.

  “Everybody’s here, Denny,” the man said, walking up. “Time for one more smoke and then we really got to keep alert. Eddie and Luther are jumpy. They think – ” He stopped and stared. “Hey! You ain’t – ”

  Link hit him with the sap. The blow was partly blocked by the man throwing up one arm, but sufficient enough to stun him and drop him to one knee. Link popped him on the back of the head and that put him out. Moments later, the second man was trussed up and secure. Link moved on.

  Eddie and Luther, the man had said. Link wondered if that made up the remaining number of outside guards. He knew several Luthers, and they all lived north of the Romaire complex, all of them related to the scum that inhabited that area. He walked on.

  Closer to the mansion, shrubs and trees were plentiful, and that made Link breathe a little easier. He utilized every bush or tree he came to. He would stand for a few seconds, scanning the area all around him.

  When a back door to the almost completely darkened mansion suddenly opened and a man stepped out, Link almost jumped out of his boots.

  “Everything all right out there, Dave?” the man called.

  Link took a chance. Luther and Denny and Eddie were accounted for. He hoped he was supposed to be Dave. “Yeah,” he called gruffly. “Quiet.”

  “Good deal. Keep your eyes open.” He stepped back into the house and closed the door.

  The sudden burst of light had destroyed his night vision. Link closed his eyes for a moment. He opened them wide, remembering something: He had forgotten all about those damned imps.

  “I was hoping you’d think of us,” the male voice whispered, coming from very close. “We got you now. Alarm! Alarm! Alarm!” the scream cut the night. “Donovan is on the grounds. Alert! Alert! Alert!”

  “Shit!” Link said, and ran for the house. The back door was flung open. Link lifted his MAC-10 and gave the man a half second burst of .45 caliber. He was knocked back against the wall, leaving a bloody smear as he slid down to the floor.

  Link reached into the rucksack, took out a grenade, and tossed it into the hallway, which was now filling up with men and women. The Fire-Frag exploded and the bunched-up knot of devil worshipers took the full charge from the mini-Claymore. The Fire-Frag is one of the most lethal grenades ever manufactured.

  The walls and floor of the hallway became splattered with blood. The screaming of the wounded added to the confusion.

  Link ran as hard as he could around the house. Rounding the corner of the mansion, he came face to face with a man holding a rifle. Link gave him a bellyful of lead and kept on running. He passed a darkened window and threw a grenade through the glass. The explosion set the heavy drapes on fire, and flames began jumping onto anything that would burn.

  Link slammed home a fresh clip just as people began running out the front door. He gave them a full clip, and any left standing leaped back inside the house and slammed the door. Link ran around to the other side of the house, found the main breaker box, and shot it to sparkling bits. The interior of the mansion was plunged into darkness.

  “Over here, you idiots!” an imp screamed.

  Inside the mansion, men and women were screaming, moaning in pain, and falling over each other, in a general panic as the flames continued to spread.

  “How do you like my kind of justice, Judges?” Link muttered.

  Link caught his breath for a moment and dug into his heavy rucksack. He came out with three sticks of tied-together dynamite, fused and capped. He smashed out a window, lit the short fuse, and chunked the dynamite into the mansion. Then he ran like the fires of Hell were after him – which they were, in a manner of speaking.

  The explosion rocked the ground under his boots. Several people ran out the back door of the mansion. Link leveled his MAC-10 and put an end to their running.

  He backtracked to the front of the house and rolled a grenade under a car. The grenade blew and ignited the gas tank. It went up a heartbeat after the grenade exploded and the flames touched other vehicles. Within seconds, the entire driveway was blazing and exploding.

  A man carrying what appeared to be a small child wrapped in a dark cloak jumped out the picture windows in the front of the mansion. He seemed confused by all the flames dancing only a few yards in front of him. He turned and ran toward Link, crouched by the side of the burning mansion. Link tripped him and the man went sprawling. He kicked the man in the head just as hard as he could and grabbed up the bundle, slinging the small girl – and he was sure it was a girl – over his shoulder. Link took off, running for the vehicles parked in the drive, nearest the front gate. He found one with the keys in it and cranked the engine. He floorboarded the pedal and raced down the paved drive. Someone had opened the gates – probably to let the fire trucks in – and Link roared out onto the road, cutting the wheel hard to the left, away from the town.

  He was smiling.

  “It’s all right, girl,” he told the strangely silent child. “You’re safe.”

  She threw off the dark cloak, screamed at him, and tried to loop a wicked-looking piece of barbed wire around Link’s neck. Link jammed on the brakes, and the girl came flying out of the back seat and tumbling onto the floorboards. Link none too kindly gave her a fist to the jaw. She lay on the floorboards, unconscious.

  Link drove very fast, putting a couple of miles between himself and the burning mansion. On a gravel road that paralleled the blacktop that ran in front of his house, about two miles away, he pulled off the road into the brush and cut the engine. Link threw the keys into the brush, then taped the girl’s mouth, tied her ankles and hands, and threw her over his shoulder. He walked the two miles through the brush and timber to the hardtop and paused for a moment, checking for watchers. The way seemed clear. He saw a figure standing behind his gates, looking at the burning glow in the night skies.

  “Tom?” Link called.

  “Yeah. That you, Link?”

  “Yes. Open the gates.”

  Link ran across the blacktop.

  “Who have you got there?” Tom asked.

  “A kid I thought I was rescuing from a fate worse than death, as we used to say back in the olden days. Turns out, she’s one of them.”

  Tom lifted the hood of the dark cloak. “Jesus, Link. That’s Sally Wilson.”

  “Well, she just tried to strangle me with a piece of barbed wire. And she also stinks like a goat in rut. You take her, I’m about worn out.”

  Tom took the girl and took a deep breath. “Phew! I wonder how long it’s been since she had a bath?”

  Sally’s eyes bugged out and she made muffled noises behind the tape over her mouth. She twisted like an eel and did her best to kick the deputy with her bound feet and butt him under the chin with the top of her head. Tom, a very stout young man, shook the girl until her teeth were nearly rattling. “I’ll drop you on your head, Sally,” he threatened. “Now you just settle down.” He looked at Link. “The whole crew showed up back here about an hour ago. They’re all up at the house.”

  “What do they want?”

  “I don’t know. But this little snotbag you brought back might open some eyes.”

  �
��Let’s hope. Come on. I’m beat.”

  “Little Sally!” Toby Belenger stood up as the men walked in. “Praise God, child. Thank you for rescuing her, Link. Have you been harmed, Sally?” he asked, reaching out to remove the tape from her mouth. He paused and sniffed. “Tom, did you step in some dog poo out there?” He pulled off the tape. “You poor sweet child,” he said.

  “Oh, go eat a rat turd, you silly bastard!” sweet little Sally told him, then spit right in his eye.

  Chapter 4

  At the Jackson mansion, the fire was raging out of control. Judge Britton had ordered the bodies of the dead to be dragged away and buried out in the parish. Those dead in the house were left to be burned to char.

  “How many did we lose?” Judge Jackson asked Dick Marley as they stood in a group, well away from the blazing home.

  “At least thirty. Some have not been accounted for. They’re dead.”

  “Probably,” the judge agreed. “I wonder why our invisible helpers didn’t give the alarm sooner?”

  “They’re afraid of Mr. Donovan,” Lynette Jackson said. “They say he has the power of God with him.”

  “That’s nonsense!” Judge Britton snapped. “The man’s nothing but a cold-blooded murderer. That platitude-spouting old fart wouldn’t spit on a man like Link Donovan.”

  “God may well be a platitude-spouting fart,” Lynette said. “But He also likes His warriors. And He has certainly found one in Mr. Donovan. The man has my respect, if nothing else.”

  “Kill him, kill him, kill him!” the imps shouted from out of the smoke-filled and flame-lit darkness.

  “Shut up!” Judge Jackson told them. The devilish voices fell silent. “What we don’t want is any sort of heavenly interference. Michael has made two known appearances in the past ten years, and that rebellious old angel has directed Sam and Nydia Balon to trouble spots. We don’t want them here.”

  “All this is true. And they destroyed that coven down in South Louisiana,” Britton said.

  “Almost destroyed it,” Lynette said. “The coven is small but still active, and waiting.”