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Cat's Eye

Page 12

by William W. Johnstone


  “Let’s go!”

  “What about the other prisoners?” Steve asked.

  “Screw ’em.”

  Louis laughed. “I done that to most of them, a couple of times.”

  Janet and Gary knew they were the objects of a hunt. They lay on the floor of an empty building across from Nick’s house and watched as the coven members gathered and then spread out, leaving in all directions.

  Janet shook her head. “I don’t know what to do,” she said, her words almost a wail of frightened confusion.

  “We got to level with our parents,” Gary told her. “We got to make them understand what is happening and what’s about to happen in Butler.”

  “They won’t believe us. I’ve told my parents so many lies over the past couple of years, if I tell them good morning they look outside to see. And my dad’s been acting funny, Gary. He’s been giving me some really strange looks lately.”

  “You mean, like . . .”

  “Yeah. I mean like that.”

  “But your dad is a deacon in the church!” He was silent for a few heartbeats. “Janet, you think that maybe . . .”

  “Yeah. I think, Gary. I think that nobody is going to be able to stop it now. I think all that stuff that Nick used to talk about, that stuff that you and I thought was only a bunch of hooey, is turning out to be real. You remember that Nick said the weak people in the town would be the first ones to join. . . and they wouldn’t even know they were doing it?”

  “Yeah. I remember. Your dad?”

  “My dad.”

  “Awesome!”

  “At least that. And here is something else to think about. Your folks and my folks are as close as sardines.”

  “Yeah. So that lets out going to my house for sure. And for sure we can’t stay here. Sooner or later Nick is going to check this place out.”

  “Guess what, assholes!” The voice came from behind the kids.

  They turned to look at several coven members, standing in the hall of the empty house. They held baseball bats in their hands.

  “Now what?” Gary asked, as he and Janet rose to their knees.

  “You gonna die!”

  * * *

  The escaped prisoners had turned the jail into a slaughterhouse before leaving by the back way. Blood splattered the walls of several rooms as the prisoners released their rage on the surprised dispatcher, the jailer, one unlucky deputy who had wandered in for coffee, and several prisoners they thought had been snitches. The convicts were all now heavily armed with high-powered rifles, riot guns, and pistols, with enough ammunition to start a major war.

  Keeping to the shadows, they ran across a road and into a clump of trees behind a long-abandoned gas station. Under normal circumstances, their only thought would have been to find a car and get the hell gone from this area.

  But these were far from normal circumstances.

  And they had, to a man, made promises.

  And when one makes promises to the Dark One, those promises are kept.

  “Let’s boost a car and get the hell gone from here,” Hal suggested.

  “We can’t,” Josh told him.

  “Why the hell not?”

  Scratch. Purr.

  “What the hell was that?” Willis asked, looking around him.

  Josh didn’t know for sure what it was, but he had a pretty good idea. And looking at Carey, Josh felt the other con did too.

  “I’m gettin’ out of here!” Hal said, standing up and turning to leave

  Josh pulled the man back down. “Don’t go actin’ like a fool, man. Think about it. Them doors didn’t just open by themselves back yonder in the jail. All the closed-circuit cameras didn’t quit operatin’ just ’cause we wanted them to.”

  “I think we all done fucked up,” Louis said.

  “It ain’t gonna be long ’fore somebody calls in,” Steve reminded the others. “When nobody answers, they gonna be cops all over that jail. We can’t just sit here doin’ nothin’.”

  Mark Hay rubbed his crotch. “I want a woman. I got to have me a woman. Them sissy-boys back in the jail is all right, but they ain’t nothin’ takes the place of pussy.”

  “I’ll opt for that too,” Fox said. “Bound to be some kid walkin’ around town. The night’s early. We’ll grab her and gang-bang her.”

  “First thing we’ll do is get the hell away from the jail,” Josh told them. “We’ll clear the town and then worry about some snatch.” He looked at each con just as that strange scratching and purring sound once more drifted to them. “Any objections?”

  “I thought it was just a joke,” Levi said. His voice held a slight trembling. “That it was all a dream. But if it ain’t?”

  Josh laughed at them. “So what the hell difference does it make, boys? There ain’t a man among us who ain’t killed while we was stealin’ or rapin’ or whatever. It’s just that Carey got caught doin’ it, that’s all. So what’s the big deal?”

  “What do you mean, Josh?” Mark asked.

  “We was Hell-bound anyways. That’s why we was chosen by . . .” He refused to say the word. He sighed as he met the eyes of the others, squatting in the gloom of the thicket. “I reckon ... the one who talked to us all felt he might as well get some use out of us ’fore we checked out.”

  “But I been saved!” Fox cried out softly.

  “How many times?” Josh asked scornfully.

  Fox thought for a moment. “Oh, six or seven, at least.”

  “You asshole!” Steve told him. “And what was you thinkin’ about when you went under the water all them times?”

  Fox grinned in the gloom. “Pussy!”

  * * *

  Carl had told of the events in Ruger County and of what had transpired since he arrived in Reeves County—all that he knew, that is.

  Father Vincent was the first to speak. “Sheriff Rodale really saw the hands and face of that old woman?”

  “Yes. Saliva taken from the window proves that she was there.”

  “That’s impossible,” Tom said. “Kids stole her head and hands and rigged up that . . . scene. That’s what happened. It’s just kids, that’s all.”

  The song of the siren came once more from the dark woods around the home. And with it came that strong and foul evil odor.

  “It’s . . . beautiful,” Liza said, breaking the momentary silence.

  “It’s also deadly,” Carl told the older woman. “It has hidden messages within.”

  Liza met the younger man’s eyes. Images of them locked in sweaty embrace suddenly filled her head. His lips were kissing her breasts, sucking the nipples, gently biting them. His hand was between her legs, fingers seeking, finding, entering, working in and out. She moved her hand downward, grasping his hot thickness.

  Liza jumped from the chair and shook her head. “Damn!” she said.

  “What’s wrong, honey?” Tom asked.

  “Don’t listen to that singing,” she warned him. “It’s hypnotic.”

  “What were you thinking?”

  She glanced briefly at Carl. He met her eyes and she quickly averted them. It had all been so damned real. “It’s nothing. It’s nothing.” But did she really want it to be nothing? She remembered the young man’s lips, roaming over her body. She fought the question and the scene away. “I believe Carl, Tom.”

  “Oh, come on, honey!” He stood up to face her. “We’ve got some badly screwed-up kids in this town, that’s all. The Devil is not walking among us. For Heaven’s sake, baby, get real, will you?”

  The song of the Devil’s soprano touched his mind. The priest’s wife was naked, standing before him. She slowly knelt and took his hardness into her mouth. In his trance, Tom could not suppress a groan of satisfaction as she took him.

  He shook himself like a big dog and gripped the porch railing with both hands. “God!” The word exploded from his mouth.

  “What were you thinking, Tom?” Chuck asked.

  Tom could not meet the man’s eyes. “I’d be embarrass
ed to tell you, Father.”

  The soprano hit another note and it was as if some invisible hand twisted Tom’s head to one side. He tried to fight the movement. He could not. He was bent almost double. He could not speak as he stood like a misshapen beast while sexual scenes filled his brain. He was making love to Carol Vincent. She moved under him, moaning and whispering the vilest of things in his ear.

  Tom tried to speak. But only animal-like grunting sounds could push past his lips.

  Carl stood up and walked into the house, returning in only a few seconds, a bible in his hand. He held it up, letting the faint light catch the outline of the cross on the front of the word of God.

  The siren’s song ended with a horrible scream. With a grunt of pain, Tom straightened up, his face mirroring his inner fright.

  “You still doubt me, Tom?” Carl asked.

  Tom shook his head, afraid to speak, afraid his voice would fail him. His neck hurt. He stood silent, trying to rub the soreness away.

  When Tom finally found his voice, he looked at his wife. “I’ll feel better if I say it. I was thinking . . . sexual things. But not with you, Liza.”

  “I was thinking the same thing, honey. And you were not my partner.”

  “What’s happening, Carl?” Dee asked.

  Mike sat with his mouth open, Judy by his side, holding his hand.

  “Mind games, I guess. I know something about covens and cults, people. Not about the inner workings of Satan. That’s Father Vincent’s field.”

  The thick woods lay dark and very quiet around the house.

  “That was a good move, Carl,” the priest said. “You getting the bible. That proves to me everything you said was true. At least in my mind.” He looked at Tom Malone, who was rubbing his sore neck. “Kids—some of them—are most certainly in on this, Tom, but I don’t believe for a minute that they are the main players.” He smiled sadly. “I am afraid that all my years of schooling did not really prepare me for anything like this.” He opened his mouth to say something else, then minutely shook his head and remained silent.

  “Someone coming up the road,” Mike said, breaking the silence.

  The car slowed, stopped, and Jim Hunt got out, walking slowly up the way. Dingo met him at the gate, sniffed once or twice, and let him enter. Jim stopped at the foot of the steps.

  “ ’Fraid you’re back on duty, Mike. There’s been a slaughter at the jail. The jailer and two deputies dead and four prisoners dead. All the bad ones on sides one and two are gone. They emptied the gun cabinet and took the sidearms from the deputies they killed.”

  Mike jumped to his feet. “How the hell did they get out?”

  “We don’t know that. No signs of a forced breakout. Seems like all the doors just opened.” He looked at Carl. “These ol’ boys that busted out are bad ones. Most of ’em we was housin’ for the DOC due to overcrowdin’ in the state prisons. Rapists, murderers, and the like. I’m sorry to interrupt your eatin’, but I’d feel a lot better if Mike was to escort you town folks back to town. We got to get the state boys in on this, so y’all better brace yourselves. Ain’t no tellin’ what’s liable to happen now. They sure to find out about the tore-up and eat-on bodies, and they’re gonna be askin’ questions. And I don’t know just how to answer them.”

  “Tell them truth, Jim,” Carl said.

  “The truth? What is the truth? That we got ghosts and hants and bodyless heads and hands a-floatin’ around? Some sort of wild inhuman creatures with green slime for blood slippin’ through the night? A ten-thousand-year-old girl and a cat, both of them burned to a crisp? Old gods about to surface from the bowels of the earth? That what you want me to tell them? Folks, was I tell them state boys that, you know what’s gonna happen? I’ll tell you. We gonna have this county filled up with people—all sorts of people—nuts and cranks and weirdos and press people from all over the nation. We can’t have that. I ain’t never lied to the state police before. But I’m afraid I might have to this go-around.”

  “I don’t understand,” Tom said. “Why not tell them about what’s happening?”

  “The more people who know, the more innocent people will get swept up in it,” Carl said. “I understand what you’re saying, Jim.”

  Jim nodded his head. “Mike, get these people back to town and get into gear.”

  A dark chuckle rose from the equally dark timber, the tainted laughter followed by the foul smell. The chuckle touched Chuck Vincent harder than the others, the ominous laughter almost like a slap across his face. His own face tightened.

  “Bastard!” the priest whispered.

  His wife gave him a strange look. “Who?”

  “The Lord of Flies. The Prince of Darkness. Satan. Can’t you feel his presence? My skin is crawling from the filth that surrounds him like maggots on dead flesh.”

  A terrible pain filled Chuck’s head. He put both hands to his temples as a cry of anguish sprang from his mouth. The pain was so intense the priest slumped from the chair and fell to the front of the porch.

  He experienced a sharp blow to his butt and felt himself being propelled down the steps, to land in a heap by the chief deputy’s boots.

  “Onward Christian Soldiers,” a heavy voice rumbled as lightning suddenly licked the night sky, with no following thunder. “Providing you can get up off your ass, that is.”

  Dingo sprang to his feet, hair on his back standing up and teeth bared as loud purring filled the night. It sounded as though a hundred lions were crouched in the darkness, waiting to spring.

  The pain in Chuck’s head gradually faded and Jim helped the man to his feet. The purring ceased its reverberating through the night.

  “A piece of cake,” the voice rumbled. “This won’t even be a contest.”

  Carl began speaking from memory “The Lord is my shepherd; I shall not want. . . .”

  Wild shrieking bruised the night, the wailing seeming to come from the very deepest pits of Hell.

  “He maketh me lie down in green pastures: he leadeth me beside the still waters. . . .”

  The night was filled with a loud roaring. Carl was suddenly spilled from his chair and thrown off the porch, landing heavily on the ground. He rolled to his knees and faced the dark forest. “You’re afraid of us!” he yelled. “With all your monsters and spooks and supernatural beings, you’re still afraid of us. You’re afraid that without your direct help, you won’t win.”

  Something flitted at the very edge of the fenced area. The shadowy shape never quite defined.

  “Don’t look at it!” Chuck yelled. “Don’t look at it!”

  Carl closed his eyes and pointed a finger at the darkness. “You interfered in Ruger, and you lost. And you know why. You broke the rules.”

  “Broke the rules?” Jim muttered, his eyes averted from the evil that slithered and pranced and spun through the darkness just outside the chain-link fence. “Rules? What is this, a game?”

  “And you’re breaking the rules now!” Carl shouted.

  The cloudy darkness filled with slow, heavy breathing, each breath filled with the smell of decaying bodies.

  Then the evil was gone, although none saw it leave. Instead they sensed the departing.

  “Was that . . .” Judy couldn’t bring herself to say the word.

  “Yes,” Chuck told her. “It was.”

  Jim began speaking. The others quickly joined in. “Yea, though I walk through the valley of the shadow of death, I will fear no evil: for thou art with me; thy rod and thy staff they comfort me.”

  From inside the timber, the siren’s song began.

  Chapter 15

  Gary and Janet didn’t wait around to be beaten to death by the baseball-bat-wielding coven members. They sprang to their feet and rushed them, the move catching the devil-worshippers by surprise. Gary tore the bat from a young man and smashed him across the back with it, knocking him to the dusty floor.

  “Run, Janet!” he yelled.

  “No way,” she said grimly, and picked up
a board from the floor. She faced those she once thought to be her friends. “Come on, you crazy bastards,” Janet taunted them.

  The coven members jumped at the pair, Gary and Janet swinging bat and board at the same time.

  Bat and board connected with flesh and the coven members began screaming in pain as the blood squirted from their bruised and torn bodies. They dropped their clubs as Janet and Gary beat them unconscious and then ran from the old house into the fading light.

  The kids ran blindly at first, then, as they paused to catch their breath, Janet said, “We can’t just run and run, Gary. We got to have a place to run to!”

  “I’m sure open to suggestions,” Gary panted. “Home is out. I don’t know who our friends are, or even if we’ve got any. That doesn’t leave us much, Janet.”

  “How about that guy that Nick was carryin’ on about the other night? That guy from Richmond who’s supposed to be some sort of coven-buster.”

  “Yeah. Okay. But he’s staying out with Miss Conners. And that’s miles from town. We don’t have any wheels.”

  She grinned at him and patted her legs. “We got these. Come on!”

  * * *

  “You’re sure you wouldn’t rather go on into town?” Carl asked.

  “I’m sure. I told you: This is my home and nobody or thing is going to run me out.”

  “Anything happens to you,” Carl said, “and your dad will have my ass.”

  She knew better than that. For the first time in her life, her father had immediately liked a boy or man that Dee liked. He had told her so, and also told her that she would be a fool to let this one slip away. And much to her surprise, her mother liked Carl, not once asking whether his ancestors came over on the Mayflower with the rest of the malcontents from England.

  “I still want a steak for dinner,” she told him. “Are the coals still hot?”

  “They should be.” He laughed aloud.

  “What’s so damn funny, Carl? I’m hungry!”

  “Yeah. So am I. And that’s what’s so damn funny. Dee, just moments ago I was tossed off the porch, and so was Father Vincent, who also got an invisible kick in the butt. The Devil, Dee, Satan, was right out there.” He pointed. “And we’re sitting here discussing having dinner! Dee, don’t think of this as a joke. It isn’t. We could be dead in the next heartbeat—”

 

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