The Devil's Laughter

by William W. Johnstone

  * * *

  Captain Jake Terry, commander of the Troop of the State Police, had awakened with a very odd feeling. A feeling that he had not experienced since Korea, where he’d been a seventeen-year-old boy-man in a rifle company and had watched the cold and snowy hills come alive with North Korean and Chinese troops, all headed straight for him.

  It had been, as it was now, a mixture of fear and anticipation and excitement and anger.

  But why did he feel that way now?

  He heard the phone ringing and his wife answer it. “It’s for you, honey,” she called. “Gerard Lucas. Says it’s very important.”

  “Hi, Gerard. What’s up, boy?”

  The troop commander listened, the blood draining from his face. He leaned up against the wall as his legs went rubbery for a moment.

  “Is this a joke, Gerard?” he asked in a small voice. “Okay, okay, what’s your wife’s middle name?” Satisfied, he said, “Jesus, Gerard, Ray is dead. How many dead do you have? A thousand! I’m on my way, buddy. Hold what you got. Yeah, yeah, I’ll seal it off. No one in and no one out. Right. I’m rolling.”

  He dialed the troop. “I want every available trooper on the road toward LaGrange. No one is off for any reason except personal death, and they better be cold in the casket. I want every road-and I mean every road-and pig path blocked. No one goes in that area and no one leaves that area without my say-so. You got all that? Good. I want everyone in full combat gear. And no one talks about this. Not one damn word about it on the air, you make sure everybody understands that. All right. Get them rolling. Is Sergeant Donatto ten-eight? Good. Tell him to shake his butt and meet me at the intersection just west of town. I’m gone.” As he was walking out the door, his wife heard him mutter, “Jumpin’ Jesus Christ!”

  * * *

  The bodies were left where they had fallen at the complex, just as the bodies were still sprawled in stiffened death all over the town.

  Captain Terry and Sergeant Donatto rolled into town and pulled up across the street from the police station. They stared in disbelief at the body of Chief Spencer lying amid the broken glass on the sidewalk. Six more troopers slid their units to a halt. The men got out, looked at each other, then walked up to their captain.

  “Roads are blocked, Captain,” Trooper First Class Patin said. “No one coming in or going out.”

  “Fine,” Captain Terry said. “You and Hardy check the police station.”

  They were back in a couple of minutes. “All dead,” Patin said. “There’s a dead woman in the alley out back. What the hell’s going on here, Captain?”

  A half a dozen more troopers rolled in.

  Very briefly, Captain Terry told his men what Gerard had told him.

  “The devil?” Trooper Reeves, a devout Christian, said. He looked around him and saw a man and a woman walking toward them.

  “Get those people over here,” Captain Terry said. With the man and woman standing in front of him, Terry asked, “You people want to tell me what’s been going on in this town?”

  The middle-aged man sang a few lines of “Shake, Rattle, and Roll,” and the woman danced along with the singing.

  “Stop that!” Captain Terry yelled. “What’s the matter with you people?”

  Troopers Miller and Holt drove up, in a vehicle they had “borrowed,” and got out. They were dirty and unshaven, and both of them had minor wounds.

  The citizen started singing “Peace in the Valley,” his wife harmonizing with him.

  “Hush up!” Terry told them.

  “They don’t know what they’re doing,” Holt said, his voice husky from fatigue. “Most of the people in the town are under some sort of mind control. Judges Jackson and Britton were leaders of this devil’s coven. They’re both dead. Jackson’s wife was a witch. She’s dead, too. Out at the old processing plant north of town.”

  “Ray’s dead and so is his wife,” Miller took over. “Some dead deputies are in the freezers at the jail. Jail’s full of young people who belonged to the coven. I’d guess we still have maybe a hundred armed coven members roaming the area. They’ll kill you on sight, Captain.”

  For one of the few times in his life, Captain Terry was speechless. He stood on the sidewalk and stared at Miller and Holt.

  The citizen and his wife started singing “Danny Boy.” It was a very nice rendition.

  Sergeants Donatto and Blakely began humming along with the couple.

  “Jesus Christ!” Captain Terry yelled. “Will you men stop that!”

  Gerard and Link drove up and got out. Both men were tired and bloody.

  “You better call the governor, Captain,” Gerard said. “He sure needs to be informed of this. We’re going to need medical teams in here and a lot of psychiatrists.”

  “And you guys watch out for the undead,” Link added.

  “The what?” Patin asked.

  “The walking dead,” Gerard told him. “We think that’s what Lynette Jackson summoned just before she died.”

  “Now wait just one damn minute,” Captain Terry said. “I don’t know what’s going on here-I certainly intend to find out-but I do know that the dead don’t walk. What the hell’s the matter with you, Gerard?”

  From across the street, Chief Spencer groaned and sat up on the sidewalk.

  Sergeant Donatto stepped behind Sergeant Blakely and peeped over the man’s shoulder.

  “There’s your dead that don’t walk, Captain,” Link said. “And I know he’s dead because I shot him about fifteen times.”

  Captain Terry said, “Somebody go check that man out.”

  None of the troopers moved.

  The citizens started humming the theme from Jaws. Chief Spencer got to his feet and started lurching around on the sidewalk.

  Link lifted his machine gun and put a full clip into the man, knocking the chief back to the sidewalk.

  “Goddamnit, man!” Terry yelled. “You’re under arrest. You can’t-”

  Chief Spencer got to his feet and started across the street, toward the group.

  “Any suggestions, Captain?” Link asked.

  “Other than prayer, no.” He shook his head. “What am I saying? This is not possible. This is not happening. This is a dream. It’s a nightmare.”

  “Somebody better do something damn quick,” Patin said. “’Cause in about ten seconds, that . . . thing is gonna be all over us.”

  “We’ll get some rope and lasso the chief,” Gerard suggested.

  Chief Spencer lumbered into the side of a state police car and fell down in the road.

  “Chain him down!” Terry yelled. “Move!”

  “Don’t let him bite you,” Donatto warned. “You’re liable to turn into a werewolf or something.”

  The couple started singing “The Monster Mash.”

  “Shut up!” Captain Terry hollered.

  It took all of them to do it, but the men finally got handcuffs and leg irons on the chief and left him grunting and thrashing around in the street.

  Captain Terry got on the horn and called Baton Rouge, requesting medical teams and more men and for the colonel to personally fly in. He was going to have to see this to believe it.

  “Where are you going?” Terry yelled at Link.

  “Home,” Link said.

  Chapter 17

  Link brushed his teeth and took a shower. Anne fixed up his hands and he slept for about an hour, until she shook him awake.

  “The head of state police and the governor are here, Link. They want to see you.”

  “Tell the governor I didn’t vote for him and I’m not interested in joining the state police,” Link muttered, pulling the covers over his head.

  Anne jerked the covers back.

  “Oh, all right,” Link said. He sat on the edge of the bed and pretended to rub the sleep from his eyes. When Anne turned around to leave, he grabbed her and pulled her into the bed, pinning her under him.

  Just as they were about to do some serious kissing, Gerard stuck his
head in the bedroom and said, “You sure pick some weird times to smooch, Link. Get your hands off that woman and get dressed. We got more trouble, boy.”

  In the den, Link met the head of state police, Colonel Roberts, and Governor Larkin. Captain Terry was there along with several of the governor’s aides. They listened as Link told the story, from the beginning to the present.

  “Incredible,” Colonel Roberts said.

  “Mind-boggling,” the governor said.

  “We have to release something to the press,” one of the governor’s aides said. “There must be two or three hundred of them gathered at the sealed perimeters. And growing in numbers. They’re becoming unruly.”

  The governor said a few very hard and ugly words concerning the press. “What would you do in my position, Mr. Donovan?” he asked Link.

  “Tell the truth,” Link said. “It’s got to come out sooner or later.”

  “We’ll be made the laughing stock of the entire nation,” one aide said.

  Link chuckled. “Surely, you don’t think that’s anything new, do you? It’s been that way ever since we had a governor running things from a nuthouse. And recent events haven’t exactly enhanced our position.”

  “Spoken like a liberal-minded man who is ready for a sweeping change,” the governor said with a smile.

  “I’m a hard-assed Republican who believes that nearly every problem this nation faces was brought on, to one degree or another, by a bunch of goddamned liberal Democrats. Now then, Governor, have we cleared the air?”

  Larkin smiled. “I’d like to debate that theory with you sometime, Mr. Donovan. But not now. Tell the truth, huh? Just lay it on the line and toss the dice and stand back. That’s what you’d do?”

  “That’s right, Gov. That’s what I’d do.”

  Larkin sat down on a hassock. “Mr. Donovan ...”

  “Link. Call me Link.”

  “Fine, Link. Good. Link, we’ve got a number of ... ah ... dead people walking around out there. It takes six to ten men just to hold one down. They’re dead people, Link. These ... things ... I feel foolish speaking these words. I feel like I walked into the middle of a horror play and found myself center stage. Link, what the hell are we supposed to do with them?”

  “Don’t ask me. Jesus Christ, you’re the governor. What do you want me to do?”

  “How do we ... put those things to rest?”

  Link stared at him.

  Larkin said, “You mean ... really? That’s how you do it? Like they do in the movies? With a – ” he swallowed hard, “a stake through the heart?”

  “Yeah, Gov. That’s how it’s done.”

  “Would you like to accompany us out to the old Romaire complex, Link?”

  “No. I’ve seen all of that place I care to see. Thank you just the same. I think I need to rest. I think that someone has been in your ear and told you things about me. I think that come the night, you’re going to be wanting me to do something.”

  “You’re smart, Link.” The governor patted him on the knee. “And you’re a hero of the genuine article. I’d like to have you on my team, fellow.”

  Link smiled cordially. “I’ll be here, Governor.”

  “I knew I could count on you, boy!”

  * * *

  Link slept the rest of the day, with Anne by his side in the bed. Troopers were guarding his house and looking after Billy and Betsy, who got up long before their mother and Link.

  The wounded, including Jimmy Hughes and Tom Halbert, had been airlifted out to a Shreveport hospital. The press had still not been allowed inside the area. And the area was anything within five miles of the town. The governor had mobilized two national guard units to help and they were now in place, relieving the troopers.

  Anne got up before Link and she was fixing a meal when he came out of the bathroom, shaved and looking rested.

  He kissed her neck and she smiled. “Coffee?”

  “I’d love some. I just remembered, Anne. You lost everything in the fire.”

  “Nothing that can’t be replaced. I’m glad that house is gone. And all the spirits with it.”

  “I can’t believe I slept all day. Have you heard anything worth repeating?”

  “One of the troopers was in for coffee and he told me that the federal government is now involved in our... situation, as they call it.”

  “Oh, that’s wonderful. They’ll have at least one committee and several subcommittees and spend probably fifteen million taxpayer dollars calling witnesses to appear before them. That’s good. Our government at work, folks. Democracy in action. Some damn liberal Democrat will probably chair the committee, and he’ll put all the blame on the Republican party and the National Rifle Association.”

  Anne laughed at the expression on his face.

  “How about the press?”

  “They’re still being kept out. And I’m not sure I understand that part of it.”

  “Oh, that’s simple, Anne. The governor doesn’t want them in until Father Palombo and me-or is it I?-do our little thing as soon as it’s full dark. And they get enough stakes sharpened,” he added grimly.

  * * *

  Link was waiting in the den when the knock came on his door. Father Mark Palombo was shown in by Betsy.

  “It’s time?” Link asked.

  “Soon. Might I have a cup of coffee?”

  “How about something stronger?”

  “I was hoping you’d say that. Sit still. I’ll fix them. I recall you’re bourbon and water.”

  Link noticed the man’s hair had grayed at the temples over the past few days. Anne was with the kids in the kitchen. The animals had all calmed down and were in their appointed places, scattered around the yard and in the house.

  “The governor ordered the phones to stay down except for a few emergency lines,” Mark said, handing Link a tall dark drink. “He wants this matter settled tonight.”

  “Well, bully for him. He can drive a few stakes if he’s in that much of a hurry.”

  “That is exactly what Cliff Sweeney told him,” the priest said with a smile.

  “The mind control thing?”

  “Still working, although some of the people are beginning to come around. Young kids mostly. That’s another reason the governor is keeping the press out.”

  “How is that much control possible, Mark?”

  The priest shook his head. “I can’t give you an answer to that, Link. My God, I miss Father Lattier.”

  “He was a brave man. And a fine man. He saved my life. Kids? Young kids. Innocent. Maybe that’s the reason they’re the first to come out of it.”

  “That’s as good an answer as any.”

  “Have you eaten?”

  “I had a light dinner earlier. With what we’re facing this night, I don’t think I want much on my stomach.”

  Link nodded his head in agreement and sipped his drink. “Mark? I have this feeling that those poor dead things stumbling won’t be the only ... call it, oddities we’ll be facing this night.”

  “I’m afraid you’re right. I’ve been thinking on what Lynette did; giving up as she did knowing that her final death was imminent. It’s a ... well, unproven theory that power such as she possessed can be transferred. So-called experts are often in heated debate about that. She may have transferred as much of her power as possible at the last moment. It’s something we have to think about.”

  “She would surely pass it to someone within the coven.”

  “I would think so.”

  Link smiled. “Did Cliff give back that money I took from the bank?”

  The priest chuckled. Chuckle now, for very soon the two of them would be facing nothing but evil and the grimness of destroying it. “Yes. The other FBI people who came in were not very happy with you about that, so I’m told.”

  “Screw ’em.”

  “Thank you. My sentiments exactly, if they can’t take a joke.”

  Link laughed at that. He sobered and said, “When do we go to work?”r />
  Mark cut his eyes to the front windows. It had been fully dark for over an hour. “Anytime you’re ready.”

  “I want enough troopers with us to hold off any coven members who might object to what we’re doing.”

  “They’re outside now. A Sergeant Donatto is in charge.”

  Link finished his drink and stood up. “All right, Father,” he said with a sigh. “Let’s go do our thing.”

  * * *

  Sergeant Donatto insisted that Link and Father Palombo ride with him. Colonel’s orders, he said.

  “Where to first?” he asked.

  “Cruise the town,” Link told him. “I want to see what’s going on.”

  The bodies had all been picked up. The streets and sidewalks were clear. Any shattered window had been boarded up in preparation of new glass being installed. Link had a hunch that a massive cover-up was about to go into effect. Every light in the hospital was on, and people were coming and going out of every entrance and exit. Link noticed a lot of military ambulances and military personnel.

  “The government sent in a lot of people from England and Barksdale and Polk,” Donatto explained. “The security lid is really on tight, and the reporters are gettin’ highly pissed. Excuse me, Father.”

  “Perfectly all right, Sergeant,” the priest said from the back seat.

  “Drive out to one of the checkpoints, please,” Link said. “I want to see how big a circus this is becoming.”

  “You chose the right word there, Link. It’s a circus, all right. We got everybody from CNN to local newspeople all over the place. They’re yelling about the public’s right to know and their right to a story and all kinds of crap.”

  Link said nothing. He could understand the reasoning behind the government’s decision-both state and federal-to not allow the press in.

  After the three of them had a look at what appeared to be hundreds of people behind the barricades, many of them standing nose to nose with armed soldiers, Donatto turned around and headed back to town, the other troopers following.

  They pulled in behind a military truck, the bed filled with handcuffed men and women, under heavy guard.

  “How will they keep the trials a secret?” Father Palombo asked. “A hundred or more coven members survived these days and nights of terror. They can’t be tried in secret.”