The Devil's Cat Part 40

The cats almost completely covered the mansion. Those inside could hear their hissing and snarling and spitting on the walls and roof. They could hear their claws digging and scratching, seeking entrance. The mansion seemed to breathe with the cats.

Sam had prepared as wisely as he could, with what materials he had on hand. He had tried to cover every window that could not be guarded, nailing boards and anything else that could be found over the windows.

For the moment, everything seemed to be holding. But he knew it was only a matter of time before the sheer numbers of cats overwhelmed them all.

A cat managed to work its way through two hastily nailed boards. The head, then the clawed paws. It snarled and spat and ripped the air with claws. Several hundred more were pressing close behind it.

James Norris stuck his shotgun into the cat-filled cavity and pulled the trigger, for the moment clearing that hole of cats.

"Water!" Tess panted the words. "Hot water-boiling water."

Several rushed to the kitchen and began boiling water on the stove. Hot water taps were turned on full blast and containers filled and handed out. The scalding water was tossed onto the cats. They howled and ran, some blindly, into the heated night.

A new sound was heard coming out of the hot night. The sounds of barking and hissing.

Those in the house stopped their frantic work to stare through the cracks in the windows. They stared in wonder and shock and disbelief.

Dogs and cats had appeared behind the attacking cats; the newly arrived dogs and cats seemed to be cooperating with each other in their a.s.sault on the devil's cats. It was a dog and cat fight to end them all ... literally.

The snarling and barking and hissing and yowling filled the night around the mansion. The blood odor grew thick.

It was impossible for those in the house to determine what side any cat was on-they all looked alike. But one thing was certain, the cats that attacked the mansion seemed to be losing ... and pulling away from the house and grounds.

A crashing sound came from the back of the house. Sonny Pa.s.son whirled around, his face paling at the sight before him.

"That's Bob Savoie!" he whispered, his words barely audible above the yowling and barking and hissing and screeching outside the mansion.

His clothing hanging in stinking rags from him, his white, seemingly sightless eyes staring, the soles of his shoes flopping, Bob Savoie lurched and staggered toward Sonny. Matt Comeaux darted past the chief, a stake in his hand. The schoolteacher drove the sharpened stake deep into the chest of the walking dead, the point penetrating the darkly beating heart. Bob's cold hands closed around the neck of Matt Comeaux and clamped down in a death grip.

Sonny and C. D. and Tess beat at Bob's arms, attempting to break the hold. They could not. James Norris ran out of the kitchen, a heavy butcher knife in his hand. "Get out of the way!" he shouted.

Raising the knife above his head, the trooper brought the heavy blade down, completely severing one arm, slicing just above the elbow. Still the dead fingers held fast.

James sliced off the other arm and Bob Savoie fell back, finally dead.

The others ripped loose the fingers, breaking them off and dropping them one by one to the floor. The fingers crawled around like large white worms. One tried to crawl up Tess's leg and she screamed and kicked it away.

"b.u.m them!" Sam yelled. "Burn them!"

Matt was helped to a chair, the marks on his neck raw and red and turning blue. He struggled for life-giving breath.

Then those in the house felt it.

The silence around them.

They walked to the windows and looked out into the lighted night. The grounds were littered with the bodies of hundreds of cats and dogs. Nearer the house, a line of dogs and cats stood, facing the b.l.o.o.d.y battleground, guarding those in the house.

"Call the clinic," Romy said. "See about them."

"They need help," Sam said, hearing Nydia's voice in his head. "It's far from being over." He grabbed up an armload of stakes. "Holy Water, Padre?" he asked the priest.

Javotte nodded.

Sam said, "James, Padre, Romy, Tess ... let's go."

24.

Gangs of wild-eyed men and women and teenagers, some armed with clubs of all kinds, beat at the cars and pickup as the small band fought their way through the night, shattering windshields and side windows as the small team drove past them. Gunfire from the vehicles slashed at the night, rolling thunder boomed from the muzzles of pistols and shotguns.

"It's insanity!" Romy yelled.

"Hang on!" Sam told him. "The worst is yet before us."

Romy crossed himself and in the next instant shot a man between the eyes.

A teenage girl leaped onto the hood of the pickup truck. Her eyes were savage and filth rolled in profane waves from her mouth. She beat at the windshield with a claw-hammer.

Sam slammed on the brakes, sending the girl sliding off the hood. He swerved around her. The car behind him ran over her, crushing her beneath the tires.

"Connie," Sam heard Romy whisper. "I was her softball coach two years ago."

"She just struck out," Sam said shortly.

"I can't take any more of this!" Romy screamed.

Sam's right hand left the steering wheel and struck the man on the mouth, backhanding his head back, b.l.o.o.d.ying his lips.

"You'll take it or you'll die!" Sam said. "Think about that."

Romy began praying.

The small convoy reached the clinic. The men jumped out, weapons of the Lord in their hands.

The men and women attacking the clinic turned to meet them.

Those inside the clinic rushed out, boxing in the attackers.

It was a quick, b.l.o.o.d.y, and savage few moments. The night grew eerily silent. Someone vomited on the ground. Others were weeping; some gasped for breath in the hot night. Others were trembling uncontrollably.

Father Javotte, his clothing splattered with blood, walked among the carnage. "The Claverie brothers," he said, his voice carrying through the night. "All three of them."

"This is Mr. Authement," Romy said.

"Earl Morris and his wife," Mike Laborn said.

"Cliff Lester's wife here," another called. "Lucille."

"Mayor Jolevare and Betty here."

Other names were called out. But a lot were missing. And Sam knew they would have to be dealt with at first light. He looked up as Nydia joined his side. He glanced at Father Javotte. "Take care of Little Sam for us, Padre. We have things to do while it's still night."

"All right," the priest said.

Sam glanced at his watch. Just about an hour until dawn. "I think we're going to be too late.

Sam and Nydia drove to the old Dorgenois home, parking in the drive. The gates had been opened, slung back hastily. Weaponless, husband and wife walked through the large old home. The inner foulness was hideously offensive to both of them. They prowled every room, opened every door, looked in every closet, under every stinking bed and pile of filthy clothing. Nothing. The home was deserted.

On the ground floor, Sam found a box of matches and set the drapes blazing. As he did so, a hot, stinking wind picked up outside.

Sam lost his temper. "Do something!" something!" he shouted. "We're only human. We're mortals. he shouted. "We're only human. We're mortals. Help us!" Help us!"

The sounds of a hard slap was heard, the sound of it thundering across the skies. The stinking wind ceased. The night was dead calm.

Nydia looked at Sam. "I don't believe I would have had the courage to speak to Him in that tone of voice."

Sam allowed himself a very small and tight smile. "It worked, didn't it?"

Hand in hand, the couple left the burning house and walked out into the now-flame-lit night.

THE LAST DAY.

At dawn, the men and women and few teenagers who had been barricaded at the clinic and in the Dorgenois mansion split up into teams. They all carried stakes. They started at the south end of town and worked north, going from house to house, store to store, building to building.

It seemed the awful screaming and the seemingly endless hammering would never end.

But it did, finally. And finally, the population of Becancour changed.

For the better, most thought.

But the searchers, b.l.o.o.d.y and weary, never found the great black panther. And they never found Mary Claverie.

And Dave Porter had vanished.

They found the orderly from the clinic and returned him to the grave, with a little bit of extra wood in the casket.

But they never found the torn man.

Carl Nichols was in the princ.i.p.al's office at the high school, snarling and spitting and hissing like a cat.

Matt Comeaux ended Carl's life.

Sister Ilene was found by Cliff Lester and Father Javotte. Javotte handed the man a stake.

Half a dozen times the searchers felt eyes on them, silently watching. Sam told them they were probably feeling the dead orderly's eyes.

And probably always would.

It was high noon and very hot when all felt they had found all they were going to find.

Mrs. Wheeler joined them, a shotgun still in her hands. The old woman looked at the blood-splattered men and women.

"Now comes the interesting part," the old woman said.

"What do you mean?" Don Lenoir asked.

"Explaining why we did it."

25.

Romy Dorgenois didn't mess around. He went straight to the top.

"Are you serious?" the governor asked.

"Yes, sir," Romy spoke into the phone. "And I would suggest you do something very quickly, for the bodies are going to be presenting quite a health hazard before very long."

"I'll be there just as fast as I can," the governor promised.

Attorney General Millet and Governor Andrews and Colonel Piper of the Louisiana State Police made a flyby of the town before landing at the small airstrip. Colonel Piper had ordered the troop commander of that area to meet him ... and bring every G.o.dd.a.m.ned trooper he could find.

"Look at the bodies down there!" Attorney General Millet breathed, gazing down from five hundred feet at the town of Becancour.

"Please G.o.d," Governor Andrews muttered. "No press on this. Please?"

On the ground, Colonel Piper met the troop commander. "You say you had a man in here while all this was going on?"

"Yes, sir. Trooper James A. Norris."

"Get him!"

After listening to James for ten seconds, Colonel Piper took off his hat. Twenty seconds later he threw the hat on the ground. A minute later he was jumping up and down on it.

"G.o.ddammit, Norris, you are a Louisiana State Trooper. You do not go around hammering stakes into peoples' hearts." The colonel paused. "Did you read them their rights?" The colonel frowned. "What am I saying!"

"Are you ill, sir?" Norris asked.