The Devil's Laughter

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The Devil's Laughter Page 16

by William W. Johnstone


  “So the devil thought about this for a time. This is great, Ol’ Nick concluded. First time in x number of years that any human has ever really made contact with me. Wow! Just think of the possibilities here. Not only can I have some fun and gain a few hundred more souls for the pits, but if I play my cards right, I can establish a real working toehold on earth, right under God’s nose. Wouldn’t that be something!

  “Ol’ Nick knows that his powers are vastly overrated. But we, the human race, don’t know that. We’ve been conditioned by books and movies to think that Satan can do anything. Make the dead walk. Fling the most hideous of monsters out of the sky. Have vampires and ghoulies and ghosties lurching about. There is no limit to our imagining what he can do. It’s all crap, of course. But there are a few things he can do. He can control minds. We’ve seen that. He’s got nearly the entire town under his control. Why have we been able to resist his mind control? I don’t know. But maybe God looked down here and thought, ’Well, now, I can’t let Satan get away with this. There’s Cliff Sweeney, he’s a good Christian man. There’s Ray and Gerard and Tom and that one and this one and the other one.’

  “And Michael, God’s mercenary, tapped Him on the shoulder and said, ’Hey, Big Boy, don’t forget Link Donovan.’

  “And God says, ’Link Donovan! Don’t make me laugh. He’s been a sinner right from the get-go.’

  “And Michael says, ’But he’s a fighter. And I like him. You either give him the nod, or I’m personally going down there and start kicking ass and taking names.’ ”

  Everyone in the room needed a laugh and that broke the tension. After the laughter subsided, Link said, “The people you tried to talk to in Shreveport, Cliff. They’re not part of this; they’re not subjects of Satan. Most of them are probably good, decent God-fearing people. And when this is over here, they won’t have any recollection of having spoken with you.

  “It’s not Satan we have to fear here, people. It’s what he’s left behind, what he’s created – with their full knowledge and cooperation –that we’re going to have to fight. It’s the human element. It’s people like Jack Matisse and Dick Marley and Dave Bradley and Ed Westcott and Nelson Marshall and four or five hundred other men and women that most of us have grown up with. Like it or not, that’s the enemy. Those people have pledged their souls to the devil. They have forsaken God and given their hearts to Satan. They are evil people. And we can’t allow ourselves the luxury of viewing them in any other light. They have no decency, no morals, no compassion, no values. They have to be hunted down and destroyed with the same coldness you would put a rabid animal out of its misery.

  “I don’t think Satan is here anymore. I think he’s gone. I think he’s done his shitty work and pulled out. He’s left a few imps behind. But their powers are limited. I ran them out of my house. They haven’t been back.

  “Carry a small pocket Bible with you at all times.” He took a Bible from his jacket pocket and held it up. “Just like this one. I’m going over to see John Lattier now and get him to bless some crosses. I’m going to wear one. I want all the insurance I can get.”

  “And then what are you going to do, Link?” Ray asked.

  “I don’t know,” he admitted. “But the thought of just sitting back and waiting for a bunch of people to come try to kill me cuts against the grain.”

  “Give it one more night, Link,” Gerard urged.

  “And then we do what?” Link challenged. “Sharpen a bunch of stakes and go drive them through hearts?” He laughed. “We don’t have any undead walking around here, ol’ buddy. Not yet.”

  Ray visibly shuddered at that thought. “You don’t think – ” he trailed off.

  “I don’t know,” Link told him. “We’re dealing with the supernatural. I’m not afraid of that. What worries me is the human element of this coven, and I say we take them out now.”

  “You’re talking mass murder, Link,” the lawman in Gerard surfaced.

  “No,” Link contradicted. “I’m talking survival.”

  Chapter 19

  Link circled the town. The three motels – one nice one and two used mainly for quick clandestine screwing – had No Vacancy signs up, although there was not a car or truck at any of them.

  “It’ll start tonight,” Link muttered. “And the first things out of the mouths of Ray and Gerard and Cliff will be all that law and order and constitutional rights bullshit.”

  “What’s wrong with that?” Suzanne Perrin asked when Link repeated his thoughts to the growing group at his house.

  “The courts have forced cops to take it too far,” Link told her. “And I’m speaking about normal times. What we’re facing here is anything but normal.” He looked at the pair of young reporters. “Do either of you know anything about guns?”

  They didn’t.

  Link shook his head. “When the shit-storm starts, you two find a closet, or better yet, the basement, and keep out of the way. It’s going to get real busy around here.”

  Troopers Jeff Miller and Dennis Holt pulled up in their State Police units. Neither one of them had their current girlfriends with them.

  “What’s the matter, boys?” Link met them outside the fence. “Where are your girls?”

  “Gone to the other side,” Jeff said in a very cold voice. “We’ve both been working and haven’t seen either of them in a couple of days. I would not have believed the change in Gloria. She hasn’t bathed or washed her hair or washed her hands or changed her clothing. You cannot believe how she smelled.”

  “Made me sick,” Dennis said. His eyes were dark with anger. “I told Carol I felt like puking at the sight of her. She laughed and told me there was about four miles of cock in this town and she was going to try to see how much of it she could get. I left right then. If I hadn’t, I would have hit her.”

  “I’ve had Jimmy and Paul cleaning up the rooms in the barn, if that’s all right with you two. The rooms have wood burning stoves in them and the walls are insulated.”

  “That’s paradise compared to our hunting camp,” Jeff said with a grin. “Come on. Trunks and the back seats in both units are jam-packed with gear.”

  Link remembered that he was going to drive over to the rectory to talk to Father Lattier and pick up some crosses. He asked Anne if she’d like to ride in and soon they were on their way, leaving the others working.

  Anne was very quiet, almost subdued. As they rolled past the city limits sign, she said, “It’s going to be awful, isn’t it, Link?”

  “Yes.”

  “Why don’t we just leave?”

  “This is my home. No bunch of worthless sons of bitches is going to run me out.”

  Her smile was both sad and knowing. “There’s more to it than that, Link. You like this. You enjoy this. You’re just like my father. For years these very same people have threatened you and ostracized you; they’ve gotten you fired from the paper, and they’ve threatened to do harm to the things you love: your animals. You want them to attack you, Link. I understand you now, Link. And I’m not faulting you for the way you are. I have no patience with people who would deliberately harm an innocent pet, be it a cat or an elephant. But you want this fight, Link. You’re spoiling for it.”

  He lit a cigarette and said nothing.

  “I heard you say this Dave Bradley person shoots any dog that crosses his bean fields. This is a good excuse for you to get rid of him, isn’t it, Link?”

  Link smiled. The lady was very quick. He kept his eyes on the road and his mouth shut.

  “Just like my father.” She told him about the gang that had threatened her in New York City and how (she suspected) her father had taken care of the matter.

  “That sounds about right. He did the only thing he could do and be sure that you’d be safe. He got some of his buddies, kicked in the side door of their club building, and hosed the place down with lead. Then he made sure the other gangs in the area got the word. Good for him. That’s the only way we’re ever going to reclaim the st
reets, Anne. And that’s the only way we’re going to clear this parish. And you’re right in your thinking. That’s exactly what I intend to do.”

  “Could we leave, Link?”

  “I don’t know, Anne. And that’s the God’s truth. They let me leave to take the animals to the vet. Maybe they weren’t even watching; but I doubt that. They were watching; they just knew I’d be back. You and the kids? I don’t know. They’re not going to breach the house, Anne. Put that out of your mind. We’ve got too much firepower and I haven’t even set out my little surprises yet.”

  She shook her head and smiled. “Just like my father. And the complete opposite of the man I married. I guess the chick always looks for a familiar nest.”

  The streets were empty of traffic, the sidewalks barren of pedestrians. Driving through the center of town, Link noticed a gang of young people loafing in front of a closed drugstore. He slowed down, just coasting up the street. One of the young men gave him the finger. Link lifted his hand, returning the gesture. That seemed to infuriate the young punk. He reached into his jacket pocket and came out with a pistol. Link couldn’t tell what caliber it was, but it was a snub-nose; probably either a .32 or .38.

  “Get down,” he told Anne. “That punk’s going to take a shot at us.” Link accelerated and the shot went wide, missing the Bronco. He turned toward the Catholic church, leaving the knot of young men and women behind them.

  “If I hadn’t been with you,” Anne said, “what would you have done just then?”

  “I would have shot him right between his eyes. Somebody will have to before this mess is over.”

  “I hate to be the one to say this, but suppose, just suppose, that gang back there are all under this mind control we talked about, and none of them know what they’re doing?”

  “That won’t wash, Anne. The people out at the supermarket had their minds taken over, but they weren’t hostile. The people at the bank were not in control of their minds, but they weren’t dangerous. I see the pattern now. It’s only the people who have always lacked certain values and morals and codes of decency who have now turned dangerous. The others might not know, to one extent or the other, what they’re doing; but they are still strong enough morally not to commit acts of violence. That makes me feel a whole lot better about this situation.”

  “The others have just gone home and locked their doors?”

  “I think so. I hope so, Anne.”

  Link and Anne were welcomed into the living quarters of the priests. “Where’s Mark?” Link asked.

  Father Lattier shook his head. “I tried to stop him. He would not listen. He went out to, as he put it, talk some sense into the people of this town.”

  “If he tries to talk to the wrong bunch, they’ll kill him, John,” Link said.

  “I told him that as well.”

  “Have you tried to talk to some of your congregation today?”

  “I’ve made dozens of phone calls. The people are confused . . . disoriented might be a better word. Only a very few were outright hostile toward me. I received several threats and some hard cussings this day. I told those whom I felt could comprehend my words to stay home, lock their doors, and maintain a low profile.”

  “Good advice. Are your bags packed?”

  “Oh, yes,” the old priest said with a smile. “I was about to drive out to your place.”

  “There’s something I want you to do before we leave.”

  Father Lattier smiled and opened the lid on a wooden box, which was on the coffee table. Dozens of gold crosses gleamed out from the interior.

  “You’re way ahead of me, John.”

  “I’m just old, Link, not stupid.”

  Anne sat in the back seat and Father Lattier rode in the front with Link. They slowly cruised the town. It appeared deserted. But they all occasionally spotted a curtain being drawn back at their approach or a drape being slowly drawn closed as they passed.

  Link pulled into the drive of a friend’s house. “I want to check something,” he said. “You want to come along, John?”

  “I already know what you’ll find. Go ahead, son. See for yourself.”

  The man who answered the door had a very vacant look on his face. His eyes seemed to be all out of focus. “Ted,” Link said. “How are you doing?”

  “It’s the will of God,” Ted replied.

  “What’s the will of God, Ted?”

  “Armageddon is near.”

  “You’re wrong, Ted.” Link hoped. “The only thing near is a bunch of dickheads playing with black magic. Now get hold of yourself, man.”

  “I have prepared myself and my family to meet our Lord. I would suggest you do the same, Link.” He closed the door.

  Link felt sort of stupid standing on the small stoop. He shook his head, walked back to the Bronco, and got behind the wheel. “Weird,” he said. “Very weird.”

  “Did he tell you that Armageddon was near?” John asked.

  “Yeah.”

  “Those I spoke with, those who were lucid, told me the same thing. And they seemed quite convinced of it.”

  “How is this possible?” Anne asked.

  “I don’t know,” John admitted. “I’ve never encountered anything like it.”

  “Father,” Anne said. “Have you ever done an exorcism?”

  The priest smiled. “That, my child, is something I cannot say. But what would you have me do? Exorcise an entire town?” He chuckled. “I’m sorry. I’m not laughing at you. The thought struck me as amusing. Seriously, I don’t believe that anyone involved in this. . . tragedy is actually possessed by the devil. Although demonic possession is not as rare as many think. I, like Link, believe that many just succumbed to their baser instincts and, as the young used to say, just let it all hang out. And they did so willingly.”

  Link backed out of the drive and continued his cruising the streets of the town. “Bankrupt,” he said.

  “Beg pardon?” the priest said.

  “Bankrupt. Morally, the nation is bankrupt. It’s been moving that way for a couple of decades.”

  John smiled. “Are you just now realizing that?”

  Link returned his smile. “No. But what is happening here is the culmination of two decades of decadence. You know, Padre, that what is happening here could conceivably move nationwide?”

  “Of course.”

  “You don’t seem very concerned about it, Father,” Anne said.

  “Oh, I’m concerned about it. I just don’t know what else I can do about it. Perhaps this is the best thing that could happen. Let the lid blow off the pot. Let the nation see what evil can do. Perhaps it’s the only way for people to understand, finally, how morally crippled we’ve become. We’ve got to return to God. And maybe this is God’s way of letting us see that.”

  “You mean . . . God might be letting this happen?” Anne asked.

  The priest shrugged his shoulders in reply.

  “There’s your son, Anne,” Link said, pointing to a knot of young people standing near a closed service station.

  Chris gave Link, the priest, and his mother the finger.

  “What a delightful young man,” Father Lattier said. “Certainly very expressive.” The old priest lifted his right hand and returned the bird to the group.

  Link busted out laughing.

  “I have always wanted to do that,” the priest said, glancing in the side mirror. Then he frowned. “Maybe it wasn’t such a good idea after all. The young people have piled in cars and they’re coming after us.”

  “If they’re lucky, they won’t catch us,” Link said. “You ever killed a man, Father?”

  “No.”

  “Would you, if your life was threatened?”

  Without hesitation, he said, “These people are in league with the devil. I would not hesitate for one second in killing them.”

  Link glanced in the rearview mirror and watched Anne’s eyes widen in disbelief.

  He punched open the console and handed the priest his .380. L
ink wore his .45 under his jacket in a shoulder holster. “Be my guest, Padre.”

  “Thank you.” He looked at the Beretta. “How do you work this thing?”

  “Show him, Anne. Here come the punks.” Link pulled the .45 autoloader from leather and jacked back the hammer.

  The lead car came up fast. The young men and women cursed and jeered and made obscene gestures, but other than that, they displayed no weapons and made no threats. They roared on past and Link turned off the street in an attempt to avoid any more contact with them.

  “We’ll be dealing with them later,” Link told his passengers. “It’s just a matter of hours now.”

  “How about all your animals, Link?” Father Lattier asked.

  “I’ve got them secured. The sick ones have been moved to a safer building. We need to get back. I’ve got some surprises for these Satan worshipers I need to get in place.”

  “If there ever is an Army of the Lord, Link, I’d recommend you to be its commanding officer. I like the way your mind works.”

  Link laughed at that. “If you’ll pardon my language, Father, you’re about the damnedest priest I think I’ve ever met.”

  “I’ll certainly go along with that,” Anne agreed.

  “I’m a realist in a world of fools and dreamers, people,” John replied. “I believe with all my heart that there comes a time when a man has to put his Bible in his back pocket and pick up a sword – or in this case, a gun – and fight. One of my great failings is that I love to read the Old Testament. Young Mark and I have had some rather . . . ah ... spirited debates on the subject of physically fighting for what one believes in.”

  “Young Mark is going to get killed if he isn’t very careful,” Link said.

  “Yes, perhaps. But Mark is strong as a bull and has a bad temper. The first time he gets knocked on his butt by some of this devil-worshiping trash, he’s going to peel off that collar and come up fighting. That is my hope, anyway.”

  “Speaking of Mark,” Link said, recognizing the young priest’s car. “There’s his car.”

  “And there’s Mark!” Anne said, just as the young priest came rolling out onto the blacktop, several young thugs right after him, punching and kicking the man.

 

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