The Devil's Cat

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The Devil's Cat Page 11

by William W. Johnstone


  Becancour lay still and hot under the fierce early summer sun. Most people were still at lunch; perhaps taking a nap under air-conditioning, refreshing their bodies for the afternoon's work that lay ahead of them.

  "I thought I would spend the rest of my life pastoring in a quiet little town," Javotte mused aloud. "One never knows."

  "Ever think what is shaping up here, facing us, was all planned, Padre?"

  "The thought has crossed my mind during the last few hours. I'm being very selfish taking up this much of your time, Sam. You must be terribly worried about your wife."

  Sam grinned boyishly. "Nydia is a witch, Padre. Any mortal who tries to mess with her will be in for a very unpleasant surprise. I don't know where Dog came from, but he's no ordinary animal, and my son has powers that will boggle your mind. They're all right."

  "You would know, mentally, if they were not?"

  "Yes."

  "Growing up, Sam … you were not aware of, well, your fate?"

  Sam shook his head. "Perfectly normal childhood. Cars, girls, rock and roll music."

  "Mine was cars, girls, and Tommy and Jimmy Dorsey." Javotte smiled at Sam.

  "Always wanted to be a priest?"

  "Oh, no. That came while in college. I set out to be an actor. But I soon realized I had zero talent for that. Slow down." Javotte's voice hardened. "Look over there." He pointed.

  A man was staggering along the sidewalk, a bottle of whiskey in his left hand. He stopped and took a swig, then staggered on his stumbling way.

  "You know him?" Sam asked.

  "That is, was, one of the finest young doctors I know. Dr. David Whitson. Let's pull over and see if we can help."

  "Be careful," Sam warned. He pulled over to the curb.

  "Peter!" the priest called. "Could we give you a lift home?"

  The young man lurched to a stop and turned, his misty eyes focusing on Javotte. "Well, now. Look who's here. I think I'll pass, priest."

  Javotte did not change expression. "How long have you been drinking, David?"

  "Well, let me see." He leaned against a trash can. "Since last night. I came in and found my wife humpin' our neighbor. Isn't that cause to get drunk, buddy?"

  The trash can tipped over, spilling the young doctor to the gutter.

  Sam and Javotte got out and helped David into the backseat of the car. The doctor started giggling.

  "Where to?" Sam asked.

  "Let's try his house."

  "Let's put him in that room," Tony said, pointing. "Jesus, what is happening in this town?"

  "I think you know, Tony," Javotte said. "You just won't admit it."

  "If you're implying that the devil is taking over Becancour, Father, I'm sorry, but I sure as hell won't accept that answer."

  "You will in time," Sam said.

  Tony gave him a dark look.

  "How is Andrea?" Javotte asked.

  "Resting. Her parents have yet to show up, and I find that odd."

  "She was raped?" Javotte asked.

  "Repeatedly. Brutally. But unlike Judy Mahon, Andrea is cooperating fully." He looked at Sam. "Sonny told me all that you discussed this morning. You may have convinced all of them, but you've got a ways to go with me."

  "I'm not even going to try to convince you," Sam told him. "If you want to walk around with blinders, that's your business."

  Tony opened his mouth to speak, then closed it as Andrea's parents walked in.

  The first thing all three men noticed was the filthy clothing on the parents. As they approached, their body odor struck the nostrils of the trio.

  Sam glanced at the doctor. "Maybe they just don't like to bathe every day," Tony muttered.

  "There ain't gonna be no charges against them boys," Mr. Golden said. "Andrea just showed off one time too often and finally got what she deserved, that's all."

  His wife giggled. "Yeah. Just think of it. Four guys at once."

  The husband giggled. "I'll have to round up some of the boys and we'll try that, baby. Is that a good idea?"

  "Great!"

  "Send the kid home when you get done with her, Doc. Me and the old lady got to lay in a stock of booze. We're havin' a party tonight. Come on out if you've a mind to."

  Husband and wife turned around and walked out of the clinic.

  Tony stood with his mouth open. He seemed unable to speak.

  "Their parental concern was quite touching," Javotte said. "Don't you agree, Tony?"

  A nurse walked swiftly up to Tony. "Doctor? You've got to see this. I saw it, but I'm not believing it."

  They all followed the nurse to Walt Davis's room. The four of them stood in open-mouthed shock at the sight before them.

  Walt Davis was naked, on the floor, on his hands and knees, lapping at a bowl of water. He looked up at the quartet.

  He purred in contentment.

  Mary Claverie looked up as she heard the back door opening. She lifted the .38 pistol.

  "I know you got a gun," a guttural-sounding male voice came to her. "But don't shoot. If you're who I think you are, we can deal."

  Mary cocked the big .38. The clicking was very audible in the small and silent house. Mary had not turned on the air-conditioning, and it was very hot.

  "Little Mary," the voice said. "Has to be Little Mary Claviere. It's Jackson Dorgenois, Mary."

  Mary lowered the .38 and smiled. "The voice told me you'd be here."

  Jackson stepped around the corner. He grinned at Mary. She knew that grin. She loved that grin for what it was. Evil.

  "You're still a handsome man, Jackson."

  "Didn't do me much good in that nut house, Mary. Damn, why don't you turn on the air? It's hot in here."

  "The owner might come back."

  "We can deal with him." Jackson leaned close to Mary and whispered in her ear, his big hands roaming her body, squeezing her breasts, pinching the nipples. She moaned and moved against him.

  "That's a good idea, Jackson. I've been waiting for you for so long."

  She wriggled around and hiked up her nurse's uniform and the two mated in the chair, in the den of the hot house.

  • • •

  Xaviere Flaubert said, "It's slowed some, Janet. But events are still moving much too fast to suit me."

  "They got restless," the girl said.

  "The people?" the Princess of Darkness asked.

  "Yes, Princess."

  "I don't think that's it entirely. I think Evil sensed that Good was near and is challenging Sam Balon to make a move."

  "Then let us hope he does that soon."

  "He won't. Not Sam Balon. He's going to play right by the rules. Sanctimonious son of a bitch!" she cursed her father.

  Janet remained silent. The Princess was growing very angry, and when the Princess of Satan grew angry, matters tended to become very nasty, very quickly. Janet knew that the Princess was still a virgin, saving herself to breed with Sam Balon, to produce a pure evil child, a boy-child to rule on earth. It would be wonderful if that were possible … but Janet doubted it would ever happen.

  She pushed those thoughts from her mind before the Princess could read them.

  A knock sounded on the heavy oak door leading to the darkened chambers of the Princess.

  "Come!" Xaviere said.

  A man shuffled into the darkened room, moving with zombielike steps. Jimmy Perkins was one of the survivors from Whitfield, back in '58. He had been serving the Master ever since. First as the servant of Roma, and then Roma's daughter, Xaviere.

  Jimmy was not looking forward to once more meeting Sam Balon.

  "What is it, Jimmy?"

  "Blood." Jimmy spoke in his heavy voice.

  "You may leave the grounds tonight, Jimmy," Xaviere told him. She shook her head in anger. It was very nearly time. For Jimmy only craved hot human blood when the Master was approaching. He had not requested blood for well over a year.

  "We're moving too quickly, Jimmy," Xaviere said.

  "I cannot help it, Mistress.
I know only that a strange new force has entered our perimeter, speeding up our inner clocks."

  "Sam Balon?"

  "No, Mistress. Someone much stronger and much more powerful than he."

  "Good or Evil, Jimmy?"

  "I cannot tell, Mistress. But the Beasts are awake and stirring."

  Xaviere suppressed a groan. She had heard that the Dorgenois male who practiced black magic had escaped from his prison. But she doubted that was what Jimmy and the Beasts were feeling. But … she couldn't be sure. Bonnie Rogers was very strong and very faithful to the Master. But there again, she doubted it was Bonnie.

  Xaviere brushed back silken hair from her pale face, her dark eyes glowing with evil and bottled-up hatred. Dave Porter was only a minor figure in the scheme of things, so she was sure it was not Dave.

  Of course, it might possibly be someone from the side of Light. But she doubted that.

  Unless there had been a rules change between the Dark One and that, that … puke who ruled the Heavens. But she very seriously doubted that.

  She cut her eyes to Janet. "Janet? Didn't you say Balon brought a dog with him?"

  "Yes, Princess."

  "I wonder," Xaviere muttered. "I just wonder about that dog."

  A few miles out of town, on the porch of the rented house, Dog raised his head and looked toward the town of Becancour.

  And if an animal could smile, Dog did.

  16

  "He's got to be institutionalized," Tony said. "There is no question but that he's lost his mind."

  "Perhaps," Father Javotte said softly.

  "Don't start, Father," Tony warned. "You're my priest, and I respect and follow your teachings, but don't start with the devil worship bit."

  Sam was one of God's warriors on earth, but he was still a mortal. And he had to fight back a quick surge of anger directed at the doctor. "Let's go," he said to Father Javotte.

  Tony watched the men leaving the building. He even followed them as far as the door, his eyes watching them get into Sam's car and drive out. Was he being a fool? he questioned silently. Was the devil … making a play for the souls of Becancour? Was that possible?

  "Hell, I don't know," he said wearily. He reached into his pocket for a cigarette, then remembered he'd quit several years ago.

  "You say something, Doctor?"

  Tony turned, meeting the eyes of R. N. Noreen Daly.

  "Talking to myself, Noreen. What's our … patient doing now?"

  "Curled up into a ball in a corner of the room sleeping—and purring."

  "He's crazy. He is not possessed. He is just plain nuts!

  "Possessed?"

  Tony did not reply to that. "How's David doing?"

  "Well, he's either passed out or sleeping. I did a blood alcohol on him."

  "And? …"

  "Doctor, it's a wonder he isn't dead. Tony … can I ask you something?"

  "Of course, Noreen. You got a cigarette?"

  "In my purse, in the lounge. But you quit years ago!"

  "I just started again. Come on, let's get some coffee."

  The first inhaled puff almost knocking him out of his chair, Tony managed to gasp, "What's on your mind, Noreen?"

  She shook her head at his antics and said, "This town."

  Tony's second puff was not so harsh. He sipped coffee and met the R. N.'s gaze. "What about the town, Noreen?"

  "Let's not play games with each other, Tony. We've known each other all our lives. Tony, add it up and tell me what's the total in your mind?

  "Tony, in twenty-four hours, look what's happened. A drifter is attacked by cats, and now he's flipped out … he thinks he's a cat. Old Lady Wheeler has Satanic words spray-painted on her back porch. Max Comeaux uses his fists on a high school senior after said senior asks Tess Nardana if she'd like to fuck. And by the way, Tess is coming by after school; she phoned, told me what happened. Said she needs some nerve pills."

  Tony nodded. Personally, he thought, I'd like to have a drink.

  "Now … Andrea is raped by four kids, who, just last month, were some of the nicest kids in town. A lot of kids are skipping school; about twenty-five percent of them, to be exact. Rita Dantin told me that Mr. Slater, this morning, hauled his kazoo out on Main Street and took a whiz in broad daylight. David's wife is shacked up with a seventeen-year-old. Dave Porter, according to his wife, »as parading about in their backyard last night, naked, wading through cat shit, mumbling to the stars and moon. Frank and Thelma Lovern practically wrecked their place having at each other. Dave and Susan and Margie went at each other not two hours ago. The entire reserve police force just quit. Chief Passon fired Louis Black, and then Max Encalarde up and quit. The parents of the raped girl don't care if she was raped or not. Judy Mahon, or so it looks, willingly took part in a mass gang-bang. We have what's left of a body in the cooler. Attacked and eaten by … something. Word is that Jackson Dorgenois is still alive and heading this way. And so is Mary Claviere. And in case you don't remember, Mary and Dave were in that house together when Bob Savoie was killed. And the people in this town have stopped bathing. Tony, look at your waiting room. It's empty. Have you ever seen it empty? Ever? And who is Balon?"

  Tony sighed and bummed another smoke from Noreen. "It's a wild story, Noreen."

  "I got nothing but time."

  "You're fired!" Matt Comeaux was informed by telephone.

  "Good!" Matt yelled into the phone. He hung up and began packing his gear. The phone rang again.

  "Yeah?"

  Same man. "And your temporary replacement is Carl Nichols. You're a disgrace, Comeaux!"

  "Carl Nichols," Matt said. "That figures. The dumbest person on the staff." He hung up.

  Matt quickly packed up all that he wanted to take with him. He'd get the rest later … maybe. He looked up as the door opened. Carl Nichols.

  "Uh …" Carl said.

  "That is just about what I expected from you, Nichols. Did you bring your Silly Putty to play with? God knows, you're too stupid to do anything else."

  "I'll come back later."

  "Man, no!" Comeaux waved the assistant coach to his chair. "Please stay and take over, Nichols. You're welcome to it."

  Comeaux walked out the door. Had he turned around, he would have seen the hate shining out of Nichols's eyes.

  "It's gonna be a pleasure killin' you, Comeaux," Nichols muttered.

  Tess stopped Matt in the hall. "Where are you going. Matt?"

  "I have just been fired, Tess. It's been good working with you. You're a fine teacher."

  "Who is in your chair now?"

  "Carl Nichols."

  "Carl Nichols is an idiot! He once told me that for years he thought Dante was a rock group."

  Comeaux leaned against a locker and laughed. The laughter felt good. Almost as good as had whipping Ted Wilson's ass. Comeaux wiped his eyes and looked at Tess.

  "I'm not staying here if you're leaving, Matt."

  "For a fact, Tess, I'm leaving. But don't do anything you'll regret later."

  "School will be out in a few weeks anyway. Hell with it."

  "Anything you want to get?"

  "I must have been thinking about doing this for some time, Matt. I took all my personal stuff home several weeks ago."

  "Fine. Come on over to the house and have coffee with Martha and me. She needs someone to talk with, I think. She's been … well, behaving rather oddly the last several weeks."

  Tess watched Matt's nose wrinkle as he opened the front door and stepped into the house. The smell was terrible. Tess thought she might be sick. She fought back the nausea and stepped inside.

  Matt kicked a cat aside and took a swipe at another cat with his briefcase. He missed the fleet-footed feline. "Dammit," he cursed softly.

  "I didn't know you had pets, Matt."

  "We didn't until about three weeks ago. Then Martha started dragging in every cat she could find. At last count we had ten. Martha!" he called. "Martha!"

  Only hot silence greeted hi
s words.

  "Tess, I'm sorry about this odor. Martha ran off our maid and she just refuses to do much cleaning. The woman needs help mentally, but I can't get her in to see the doctor.

  Tess's eyes took in the mess in the den. The place was positively filthy. Matt had gone off walking through the house, looking for his wife. Tess stepped over the cats who were winding around her ankles. The sensation was annoying.

  She stepped into what she knew was Martha's bathroom, clicked on the lights, and recoiled in revulsion.

  The bathroom was just plain nasty. Worse than filthy. She stepped to the mirror and looked at her reflection. But it was not her reflection. The thing staring back at her was hideous-appearing, with matted hair and rotting and mottled flesh. Male or female; Tess couldn't tell.

  Tess started screaming.

  Noreen leaned back in her chair in the lounge. "Tony, that's the wildest tale I've ever heard."

  "I warned you."

  "And you think … what?"

  "Noreen, I don't know what to think. But somebody's going to have to come up with some hard evidence before I accept this devil worship stuff."

  "Well, whatever is happening might work out best for us at the clinic."

  "What do you mean?"

  "None of the nurses' aides showed up. Only one orderly, and the kitchen is closed."

  "I thought the place was rather quiet."

  Noreen glanced at her watch. "Tess should be coming along shortly. Want me to send her right to your office?"

  "You? Where is the receptionist?"

  "She didn't show up."

  A foul, sickening odor was drifting out of the mirror; the image in the mirror had opened its mouth, exposing needle-pointed teeth, the tongue blood-red.

  "Jesus Christ!" Matt said, jerking Tess out of the bathroom. He slammed the door.

  "Wha … what? …" Tess managed to stammer. Her heart was hammering.

  "I don't know, Tess. I don't know. And I don't know where Martha is. She's never been one for practical jokes."

  "That was no joke, Matt. Matt? Drive me to the hospital, will you? I've got an appointment to see Dr. Livaudais."

  "Sure. Come on. I can't take the smell in this house any longer."

 

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