Between Dusk and Dawn

by Lynn Emery

  “Damn.”

  Two yelps from an animal seemed to answer her. LaShaun quickly pulled on jeans lined in flannel, weatherproof thick leather boots and a jacket. She found the short silver dagger and put it in one sleeve pocket of her jacket. In minutes she retrieved the custom made long knife her old teacher, Jean Paul, had given her years before. Carved with her initials in the blade, it looked like instrument used to hack thick stalks of sugar cane in the fields of Louisiana, a can knife with a slight hook on the end. But this knife of pure silver had never seen agricultural duty.

  “Here we go,” LaShaun said softly. Chase would be beyond freaked out at what she was about to do.

  She punched the code of her security system, checking to make sure the remote with the panic button was in the front pouch pocket of her jacket. The growling stopped when she pushed open her back door and stepped out on the porch. A denser patch of darkness moved to her left, then to her right. LaShaun sniffed the air and tilted her head to one side. Three were near. Her sixth sense told her the leader hovered back in the woods to watch. He’d approach only when it was time to finish her off. He planned to let his minions have fun. Or so they thought.

  “Come out to play, Orin Young,” LaShaun shouted. “Or are you too much of a coward to handle a real woman?” This brought surprised silence from those circling her property. She heard a nervous grunt to her left as two heavy bodies bumped into each other. “Can you even still get it up old man? I’ve got something you’ve never had. I’ll take on every inch of that supernatural joystick you’ve got.”

  LaShaun could sense the sexual excitement her words brought. The other males gave off the musky odor of going into heat at the prospect. One female let out a yelp to attract one of the males, but the leader barked a command. LaShaun didn’t quite make out the words. The book from her ancestors said they sometimes developed a vocal language only they understood. His followers grumbled in protest, but complied.

  “Only four of you, huh? First come, first serve. You’ll get a bigger turn on if I cooperate up until the end. I want the thrill.” LaShaun lifted the jacket to reveal her skin beneath. She rubbed her stomach slowly with one hand, and heard panting.

  Despite a growl from the leader, an excited pack member bounded into the circle of light. The man wore a torn dark flannel shirt and ragged pants. A huge erection made a lump in the button fly of slacks. He reached into the pants trying to free it, moaning. Thick hair covered his neck, face and harms. LaShaun shivered with fear at the outcome if her precautions didn’t work. She prayed the words of her ancestors were true, and that she’d translated the old French correctly.

  “It’s my turn to go first,” a deep throated half-animal voice rang out. “You got the last one.”

  “Step back. This one is special,” another deep voice reverberated in the air.

  The sound shook LaShaun to the core. The force in the leader seemed to make the darkness deepen, as though he had more malevolence in him than any other she’d faced. Her huge security light dimmed as if on his command.

  “To hell with that. I want this fine bitch.” The rebel bounded forward.

  “Stop him,” the leader growled. “We’ll have this one soon enough.”

  But the first pack member seemed in no mood to listen. Animal lust clouded his thick brain when LaShaun tossed her hair and nodded for him to come closer. Soon three others surrounded her muttering at the first to back off. LaShaun knew he wanted more than a first turn. This one wanted to be leader, and to have her all to himself.

  “You got something sweet for me big boy?” LaShaun purred.

  With a yelp he tore open the front of his pants and raced toward her. His companions closed in. With a prayer for strength LaShaun swung the huge silver cane knife and sliced into his mid-section. Using both hands she landed a second blow. Her arms felt the impact. Canine screams of pain filled the air and she swung again. The eager, rebellious creature writhed on the ground whimpering. Even suffering, his craving for sex continued. He pumped a hand up and down over his erection moaning in pleasure and pain. Disgusted at the sight, LaShaun felt nauseous. That second of distraction allowed the other three to throw her to the ground. The stench from a heavy body on top of her made LaShaun choke, and her eyes watered. Sharp claws raked the thick denim shirt jacket she wore as the animal tried to grab her breast. Other claws pulled at her pants. LaShaun fought back in panic that she would be infected. A face that looked vaguely female came so close to hers LaShaun could smell its breath. LaShaun fought against the urge to vomit as bared long teeth loomed over her. To her horror another figure appeared, and the spray can in her sleeve fell out when she swung her arm. One of the males snatched it up and grinned at her.

  “Look, she’s carrying perfume so she can smell pretty for me.”

  The other male laughed at his antics, while the female continued to stare at LaShaun. Saliva dripped from the right side of her mouth. Her long teeth seemed to make it hard for her to close her lips.

  “You won’t be so cute when I finish,” the animal like female mumbled. “They won’t care about your face. Not when I flip you on your stomach and watch them rape you.”

  “We’re going to at least smell sweet for you hot stuff,” the male said.

  “Yeah, but she ain’t gonna notice when we’re going at it,” his companion said and huffed a sickening laugh.

  His friend responded with his own gruff laugh as he sprayed first his friend, and then himself on the neck. After a few seconds the second man rubbed his skin where the liquid hit, his wide mouth moved but no sound came out. Then the man holding the spray can rubbed his neck. First he grunted a few times, but then his groans turned to howls.

  “What the hell is happening to me?” He spun around panting hard.

  “Stop messing around and help me get her so we can all have some fun,” the female started to go on, but then she stared at the other two in surprise.

  Clumps of flesh fell from both men as they stumbled around. One fell over the first man who lay still in a pool of blood with his eyes open. LaShaun jammed her elbow into the throat of the female. The woman gagged and fell back. With her right arm suddenly free LaShaun slashed at her face.

  “No, get away!” The filthy female lept away from the blade. Her terrified glance darted to LaShaun’s first casualty lying in his own blood.

  “I’m burning up. Make it stop.” The man flung the small spray bottle away from him.

  LaShaun jumped to her feet and caught the container in mid air. “Father, I pray that you give me the strength to fight and win, and if it be your will give these lost souls a chance to be delivered from this evil. Have mercy on us all. Amen.”

  As she spoke LaShaun hit the spray coating the three still on their feet. All of them screamed in unison for help from their leader, and then begged for relief from any source. Their howls continued until they were all on their knees. LaShaun saw the light reflecting from the long blade on the ground and picked it up. She stood with the big silver knife in one hand. Ignoring the sounds of agony around her, LaShaun tucked the smaller the spray bottle in her pocket. With her legs apart and the long knife in one hand, she assumed a battle stance. LaShaun stood ready to take on the bigger threat; their leader. Two big red eyes moved away and then winked out as the being turned to leave. LaShaun let out a slow breath but didn’t relax. Her work wasn’t done.

  She was grateful that her neighbors had not come over to investigate. What would the Marchands have made of the macabre scene? Three human figures seemed to kneel around a fourth who lay in a pool of black blood. Anyone would think they were praying, maybe for him or for themselves. No longer able to speak, all the three made desperate hacking sounds.

  “The spray isn’t perfume, but then you probably figured that out. I mixed liquid silver in a suspension substance. The funny part is a lot of people are convinced that silver has medicinal benefit.”

  One pair of glassy eyes, the first man LaShaun had stabbed and slashed, stared up
at the night sky. LaShaun continued to spray the ground. She walked around spraying a perimeter around her house, and then returned to the four figures trembling in silent pain. The female tried to crawl away but let out a muffled groan from the effort. Instead she gave up and lay whimpering.

  LaShaun walked from one figure to the other. She studied them as though she were a scientist observing specimens. “Colloidal silver might be good for humans, but it’s not good at all for rougarou. For us it has antibacterial properties. What if being a werewolf is a kind of bacterial infection? That’s an interesting thought,” she said softly.

  “Arrgh.” The female tried to growl at her, but the effort appeared to cause her pain.

  “Or maybe you just think you’re werewolves, and the pain you feel is all in your mind as well. Your leader must have powerful persuasive powers, almost supernatural. Unfortunately the most deadly megalomaniacs have that ability.”

  As she watched the four figures their skins seemed to disintegrate. The first male, the one so bold as to ignore the orders of their leader, stared up at her blinking. He seemed beyond pain. He tried to get up but only flopped around convulsively. His lips pulled back in what looked like an attempt to smile at her.

  “Thank you,” he rasped, sputtered out a few drops of blood then lay still.

  “No problem.” LaShaun squatted down to take a closer look at him, and made sure he was dead.

  One of the other men panted, “Please. Shoot... head.”

  LaShaun walked over to him. “Gunshots would probably make my neighbor call the sheriff’s station. I’m sorry. I can’t do that. You won’t suffer long.”

  She was right. Seconds later the man’s mouth opened as though he tried to scream, but nothing came out. Ten minutes later the last three were dead, their bodies decomposing from the silver eating into them. LaShaun followed the instructions in the leather bound book. Even though she used a shovel, she wore thick rubber gloves that extended up to her elbows and safety glasses. She pushed the bodies close, straining at the hard work it took. Then she poured more liquid silver in a circle around them and added solvent naphtha.

  “Dear Lord, I come to you in humility asking for spiritual cleansing. Make this land a safe place. I renounce and reject all sinful and evil acts committed by these lost souls. I renounce and reject all evil instruments ever used by them. I renounce all sinful things broadcast in the name of the enemy. All this is done in your name. Amen.”

  LaShaun took the electronic gas lighter and touched it to the soaked ground. Orange and red flames flared up. She tended the fire until five o’clock that morning, careful to watch for any stray sparks. Acrid smoke rose above the trees and up to the sky. The bodies gave off a strange sour scent, not the smell of burning flesh she’d expected. Twice she poured more solvent to keep the fire hot and destroy all traces of the creatures she’d killed.

  “As though consumed by the fires of hell,” she whispered, quoting the ancient instructions written by an ancestor who had died in seventeen ninety-three. A long howl echoed and seemed to bounce from tree trunk to tree trunk until it reached her.

  The fire died down at last. LaShaun’s limbs felt from numb from exertion. She went inside at about four thirty. Peeling off her clothes she examined herself for cuts. To her relief she only found bruising. She showered, and then used an ancient family remedy to reduce the bruising; a cold compress made of aloe, lavender oil and witch hazel. Then she pulled on flannel pajamas just as dawn turned the sky a grayish blue with orange around its edges. Within minutes of crawling into bed LaShaun fell asleep. She woke up when Chase returned at seven o’clock looking drained of energy. Another body had been found in St. Martin Parish.

  “We’ve got us another serial killer,” he said and yawned. “Sorry to wake you up so early, but I couldn’t face my cold empty house.” He undressed down to his briefs only and crawled into bed next to her.

  “I know, baby.” LaShaun closed her eyes and held on tight to his solid body, absorbing the warmth from his skin.

  Chapter 19

  Two hours later LaShaun eased out of bed and went to the bathroom. The bruising on her arms and shoulders had faded away. She sighed in relief. “Thank you, Monmon Odette. I won’t have to explain being banged up just yet.”

  Even though Chase lay exhausted and fast asleep, LaShaun tiptoed around. She eased his handgun from the holster and went to the library. Alert to any sounds from the bedroom, LaShaun put the special bullets she’d ordered into the Glock 22. Just in case Chase woke suddenly, she returned to the bedroom and put the gun back. Then she went outside to his truck and replaced his ordinary shotgun shells with ones encased in silver and filled with silver pellets. These shells would explode causing the pellets to disperse and become embedded in the target.

  LaShaun returned to the bedroom and was relieved to see Chase hadn’t changed his position. She got back into bed, and he cuddled against her with a soft sigh. Moments later his kissed her face and body until she moaned with desire. Lying side by side, they made love slowly. It was as though the violence they’d both witnessed drove them to find solace in becoming one. An hour later he dressed and headed off for another crime scene with only a cup of coffee for breakfast. Fortunately he was too distracted to notice the circle of burned earth on her back lawn. LaShaun kept him talking as he went to his truck. The handed him a travel thermos of strong coffee and a brown paper bag with a sausage biscuit inside.

  “You need to keep up your strength,” LaShaun said with a smile.

  “Thank you, ma’am. What you got planned today?” Chase sipped the coffee and climbed into the driver’s seat.

  “I’m going to run an errand,” LaShaun replied vaguely.

  “Have a good one, baby.” He gestured for her to come close.

  “I’ll cook supper for you tonight and tell you about my day.” LaShaun kissed his lips and stepped back.

  “Deal. I’ll call you later.” Chase started the truck and gave her one last wave before turning the truck around and driving off.

  Her neighbor arrived on an ATV just as Chase’s truck turned onto the road. Xavier Marchand, Sr. wore sunglasses. “Morning, LaShaun. How you doin’ today?”

  “Just fine, and yourself?” LaShaun faced him with her arms crossed.

  “Can’t complain.” Xavier cut the rumbling engine, but didn’t get out of the seat of the ATV. His gaze swept the house and her yard before he looked back at her. “My wife says she smelled smoke and saw it coming from this way before daylight. Hope you’re okay.”

  “I was burning trash,” LaShaun said with an easy smile.

  “Might early to be up doing chores,” Xavier said.

  “Sometimes it’s best to get started first thing. Frees up the rest of the day. Got a lot to get done,” LaShaun said with a smile. “Thanks for checking up on me.”

  “Just looking out for my neighbor,” he replied as he looked around again. “Me and my youngest son sleep like logs. Don’t even turn over. But my wife says she heard barking noises, like wild dogs running around. I’m going out into the woods to check. Don’t want them dragging off any of my chickens or the ducks in our little pond.”

  “Those packs can get very dangerous for humans.” LaShaun studied the woods. “But I don’t think they’ll come too close.”

  Xavier, Sr. looked around LaShaun’s property instead of at the woods. “Well you call me quick if you need help. My son and me, we’re good shots. Even my wife can handle a shotgun. Like you said, wild dogs will even attack people.”

  “I’ve got my own weapons. I’ll be okay,” LaShaun replied calmly.

  “Yeah, right. Bye now.” Xavier kicked up the engine again and drove back through the brush and across the invisible dividing line between their properties.

  “Bye now,” LaShaun echoed. He and Mrs. Marchand would have another strange story to tell about the Rousselle girl.

  Twenty minutes later LaShaun drove down I-10. Manny’s psychiatrist had been reluctant to approve another
visit, but Dr. Norris finally gave in to her own curiosity. When she arrived, Officer Roosevelt met LaShaun at the door. Dr. Norris arranged it so LaShaun didn’t have to check in at the main building.

  “Ma’am, hope you had a pleasant drive,” he said dryly, his tone suggesting her destination would be anything but.

  “Something has happened?” LaShaun looked at him, but before he could answer Dr. Norris strode out.

  “I started to text you and cancel. Manny is very upset, but he got practically hysterical when I suggested we put this off.” Dr. Norris frowned. “I’m taking a big chance. The medical director had to be convinced. I told him Manny was linked to a new on-going murder investigation.”

  “But you didn’t mention that I’m not in law enforcement,” LaShaun said and raised an eyebrow. Roosevelt cleared his throat loudly and walked away as though he didn’t want to hear more.

  Dr. Norris stepped closer and lowered her voice. “He didn’t ask, and I didn’t offer more details. I read the news stories about those latest victims. If there’s a chance you can stop the blood bath... Let’s make sure we don’t get Manny worked up this time. I don’t want to spend the holidays looking for another job.”

  “Understood.”

  LaShaun followed her back to the same room they’d been in the first time. Manny was already seated at the table. Another correctional officer stood in one corner only a few feet away from him. A husky male nurse stood on the other side of the room. He and Dr. Norris had a whispered conversation, and then nodded to the two officers. LaShaun was shocked when the four left her alone with Manny. Then she noticed he blinked slowly as though fighting to keep his eyes open. Both his arms were strapped to arms of the chair. Another thick strap around his waist kept him secured against the back of his seat.

  “Hello again, sweetheart,” Manny said softly. He pressed his lips together and reached for a paper cup near his right hand. His restraints were loose enough to allow him to pick it up, but he had to lower his head to sip. “The medicine they gave me dries out my mouth something bad. You see how much they trust me, and even after I promised to behave.”