The Devil's Touch (24 page)

"That will come soon enough, Noah," Sam said. "And when it does it will come suddenly."

"I believe it."

They came to the Fox Estate. Both men could feel the evil emanating from the grounds of the Giddon House. Noah commented on it.

"It's all right there," Sam said. And for a moment his mind went back to Falcon House and the siege.
(The Devil's Heart)

"You think you—or one of us—will have to enter the Giddon House?" Noah asked.

"No doubt in my mind, Noah. And I am not looking forward to it."

He pulled into the curving driveway of the Fox Estate and abruptly stopped. He looked at Noah. "Noah? Something just popped into my mind. Tell me, if you can, who founded Nelson College?"

"Why—Norman Giddon's great-grandfather. He—" Noah paused, deep in thought. "Yes. That's it, isn't it? The college is a training ground for Satan's converts." He slapped the palm of his hand on his forehead. "My God! Why didn't I see that before!"

"You were probably blocked from it. No telling how many covens have been established around the nation by graduates of Nelson. Satan's turned his movement into a big business."

Before Noah could reply, hard screaming cut the night. Both men searched the surrounding gloom. "There!" Noah pointed to Sam's left.

It was Desiree. She was naked. Sam spun the pickup and kicked on his high beams. The lights flashed on the young woman's nakedness. She had been beaten, the cruel marks of the whip crisscrossed her skin. Small silver chains dangled from the nipples of her breasts.

"Oh, my Lord!" Noah cried. "What has been done to that poor girl?"

"Desiree!" Sam shouted, opening the door. "Over here. It's Sam!"

The panicked and frightened young woman turned and almost slipped on the damp grass. She raced toward the sound of a friendly voice. "Behind me!" she managed to gasp out the warning.

A dozen or more men and boys were chasing Desiree, some of them clad only in their underwear. They had been taking turns raping and beating the young woman. Some of them were armed.

Desiree fell exhausted into Sam's arms and he picked her up and literally tossed her into the cab of the truck. He spun around. Using a two-handed grip on the .41 mag, Sam lined up a near naked man and gently squeezed the trigger. The pistol roared in the night, fire lancing from the muzzle. The man stopped abruptly and was slung backward, the big hollow-point slug ripping into his belly and tearing out his back, taking a fist-sized chunk of meat as it exited.

Noah's .357 roared twice. Two men dropped to the grass, one of them gut shot, the other howling in pain, part of his hip torn away.

"In the truck!" Sam yelled. He jumped behind the wheel. He gunned the engine just as Noah slammed the door, the back tires biting into the concrete drive.

The truck fishtailed as Sam slid onto the road in front of the mansion and headed for the Draper home. Noah removed his jacket and placed it around Desiree's shoulders. He felt slightly sick to his stomach as his eyes picked up the whip marks, the silver chains dangling from her nipples, and the studded dog collar around her slender neck.

"Filthy perverted sons of bitches!" Noah said. He worked at the clasp of the collar and removed it, tossing the studded leather out the window.

Desiree almost screamed in relief as she removed the silver alligator clips from her swollen nipples. Small silver chains dangled from the clips.

"They used these to force me into submission," she sobbed. "They were going to pierce my nipples and insert permanent rings. They forced me to my knees and took me like a
dog!"
she wailed. "Then two of them raped me at once. Oh, God!" she cried. "What kind of place is this? Sam—those things we did this afternoon. We did do them, didn't we? It's—all kind of a blur in my mind. When I woke up, I thought it had been a dream. Then Perkins brought those men and—"

"Perkins?" Sam asked. "Did you say Perkins? Jimmy Perkins?"

"Yes. Jimmy Perkins. He's a caretaker, a grounds-keeper at the estate." She glanced at him. "Why do you ask? Do you know that—horrible man?"

"Yeah, I know him," Sam said, conscious of Noah's eyes on him. "Tall lean fellow. Walks with a shuffle."

"Yes, that's him. He's—a terrible person." Desiree shivered from fright and shock and the cold against her bare skin. "He's a terrible man."

"He isn't a man," Sam said. "He's one of the undead." Very briefly, he told them what he knew of Jimmy Perkins.

"Good Lord!" Noah said. "You first encountered this—creature up in Canada?"

"Yes. But my father fought him back in Nebraska, in 1958. That's when Perkins died, and was reborn with the Devil's help."

"It's just too much for me to believe," Desiree said, tears streaming down her face. She put her face in her hands and wept. She lifted her face and wiped her eyes with a handkerchief provided her by Noah. She murmured a prayer in French and crossed herself.

Sam glanced at her, a puzzled look in his eyes. "I thought you were an agnostic."

"So did I," she replied. "1 don't know why I did that. I wasn't conscious of even knowing any prayers. 1 don't know where the sign of the cross came from."

"I do," Noah told her gently. "You're one of us now, Desiree. So welcome aboard the Good Ship Lollipop."

Sam laughed at Noah. "The more the merrier," he said. "Desiree, tell me, what do your parents do for a living?"

"Why—they own many businesses around the world. Some of them in France. For years, my father was a vice president for the Roma Companies. Something happened to the owner about—three years ago, 1 think. That's when my father branched out on his own."

"Uh-huh," Sam said. "Now it's all beginning to come together; the pieces are fitting. Tell me, do your parents ever wear any type of medallion?"

"Why—now that you mention it, yes, they do. It's—kind of a strange-looking medallion. Very intricate in design. They tried, many times, ever since 1 was a little girl, to make me wear one like theirs. But every time I tried, I got sick. I mean, really physically ill. Or this terrible rash would cover my body. Finally, just a few weeks ago, as a matter of fact, they told me I was leaving France, and going to school in America. At Nelson College. They said that would prove their findings—one way or the other. I never did understand what they were talking about. Do you know?"

"Yes," Sam answered. "I sure do. You and Nydia will get along fine, I'm thinking. You both have a great deal in common."

"1 am so ashamed for what happened today, Sam," Desiree said. "I don't—I don't know if I can even face your wife."

"As long as you do not renounce the Lord God, my dear," Noah told her, "for our God is a forgiving God. If He can forgive us our human sins, surely the least we can do for Him is to practice forgiveness among ourselves."

The young woman looked at him and smiled. She kept her opinions—if any—about his manner of dress to herself. "Thank you, Mr.—"

"Crisp. But please call me Noah. Sam, you have puzzled me somewhat. What was that line of questioning about medallions? And you, my dear, what was all that about your getting sick? Would you be so kind as to clear that up for me?"

"Nydia's mother's name was Roma. The witch. She owned the companies where Desiree's father was VP. Roma tried to force Nydia to wear the Devil's medallion, but like Desiree, Nydia's—something in her body—or mind—refused to accept the medallion. They made her very sick. My belief is that God saw good in Nydia, and in Desiree, and intervened in His usual quiet manner. That's what that was all about."

He wondered if he should tell them about the tablet. He decided against it. He had a hunch that would be left up to him—solely.

"I see," Noah said. "I—" He bit the words off before they rolled from his tongue. He was about to ask if Sam knew anything about the tablet, then thought better of it. The young man had enough weight on his shoulders without adding any more.

"You were about to say something, Noah?" Sam asked.

"It slipped my mind, Sam," he lied. "Must not have been very important."

They pulled into the Draper's driveway. Noah said, "Sam, would you be a dear boy and run into the house; ask Viv for a robe of some sort for Desiree. That jacket is positively indecent. I'll sit with her while you do that."

While Viv was getting Desiree a robe, Sam told those in the den what had happened. "And she is wondering if you can forgive her, Nydia."

"There is nothing to forgive, Sam," Nydia said. "None of us had any control over ourselves." She rose as Viv entered the den. "Here." Nydia held out her hand. "Let me take the robe to her."

Before Nydia could open the door, the sounds of Desiree's screaming and Noah's big .357 barking came to those in the house.

The house was plunged into darkness and Viv began shrieking in terror. "Get it off me!" she wailed. "Get it off me!"

"Yes," Mille told her sister. "Yes, you are most certainly coming with us. And if I have to drag your butt out of this house, I will. Now, get moving, girl!"

"Fuck you!" the teenager screamed. "You can't make me do a goddamn thing."

Mille slapped her, rocking the girl's head back and forth with the backhanded pops. Blood dotted the girl's mouth. Pete LaMeade stepped forward, his hands balled into fists. Joe stuck a pistol in the man's face.

"Just hold it right there, Pete," he told the man. "'Cause I'll damn sure blow your head off."

"This is kidnapping!" the father yelled. "And I ain't gonna stand still for it."

"No, it ain't kidnapping, Pete," Joe corrected the man. "And yeah, you're gonna stand still for it. What did you plan on doin'? Callin' a cop?"

Pete shot dark arrows of hate at Joe. But he made no further attempt to interfere. "We'll get you," he warned Joe. "Bet on it, Bennett."

Mille jerked the sobbing girl to her feet and shoved her toward the front door. "Before this night is over, little sister, you'll either be free of your possession—or you'll be dead. I guarantee you, Jeanne. One way or the other."

"You goddamn bitch!" the teenager cursed Mille. "You got all the pecker you wanted, then you turned righteous on us. If you had all the cocks sticking out of you that you've had stuck in you, you'd look like a fucking porcupine."

"Shut your filthy mouth," Mille warned her.

"Lousy two-bit whore!" Jeanne popped off.

Mille balled her right hand into a fist and the girl shut her mouth.

"A crowd gathering out in the front yard," Father Le Moyne told them. "And they're armed and ugly."

Joe grabbed Pete LaMeade by the arm and jerked him to the front door. He stuck his .357 in the small of the man's back and jacked back the hammer. "We're goin' through that crowd, LaMeade. Now you tell them godless bastards to clear us a path—a wide one—or I swear before God Almighty, I'll kill you, Pete."

LaMeade believed the smaller man. Sweat formed on his face. "All right, Joe. I'll do it. But we'll meet again. Bet on that."

"I can't hardly wait, partner," Joe told him. "But for right now—move it!"

The crowd of people, teenagers to middle-aged men and women, parted at Pete's orders. But they did so reluctantly, with open hate shining in their eyes, and with filth rolling from their tongues.

"Farther back!" Joe told them, shouting at them. "I mean make a wide path and do it now! Between Mille and me, I can guarantee you ten of you will die if we have to start poppin' caps."

The crowd gave them room. In the safety of the car, driving away from the scene of ugliness, they relaxed just a bit.

Jeanne LaMeade asked Mille, "What are you gonna do with me?"

"Drive the demons from you," Mille told her. "Or kill you. Those are your only options, sister. And I'd think about that if I were you."

In the front seat, beside Joe, Father Daniel Le Moyne rubbed suddenly sweaty hands together. He silently prayed for God to give him strength. "Joe," he said, "take me to the church. 1 have to get some things."

Joe wondered if he was going to have to be a part of this spooky business of driving out demons. He sure hoped not.

"Yes, sir," Joe said.

Monty rushed to his wife's side, colliding with her in the darkness of the den. He smashed his fist into the white evil-looking face of a man who was trying to drag Viv from the house. Again and again he hit the man, smashing his nose. Blood squirted. Monty felt the man's teeth break off under his hard blows. The man finally fell to the floor, stunned, bleeding and hurt. Monty drew back his right foot and kicked the man on the side of the head.

Sam jerked his pistol from his waistband and ran out the front door in time to see Noah fighting several men, his .357 empty and useless on the sidewalk. Desiree was crouched in the cab of the pickup.

Whatever the trio of men expected from the small man, it was not the fury and skill now being shown by Noah. The man was fighting like an enraged tiger. And holding his own against the three bigger men.

Sam shoved his .41 mag back behind his belt and waded into the melee, fists swinging. The fight was over in seconds, the men moaning and bleeding on the sidewalk. Sam knew none of them.

"Two over there I shot," Noah panted, resettling his beret on his head. "They're either dead or dying." He pointed toward the darkness beside the Draper house.

But the men were gone.

"What—" Noah asked, looking at Sam. "But I
know
I hit them, and hit them accurately."

"The Beasts will feast this night," Sam said.

"I hope they get sick and die," the writer said, considerable heat in his tone. "What about this rabble?" he asked, pointing to the men on the ground.

"Leave them. Unless you want to shoot them in the head. We don't have the space nor the inclination to jack around with a bunch of prisoners."

Noah looked at the tall young man. "What would you do with them, Sam? If I weren't standing here, that is."

"I'd shoot them," Sam replied. Without waiting for a reply, he turned and helped a badly shaken Desiree from the pickup. A plan was forming in Sam's head as he walked her up to the house.

Nydia and Viv took over the job of trying to settle down a hysterical Desiree. Sam sat in the den with Monty and Noah. Monty had dragged his wife's attacker out the back door and threw him in the alley. He then found the breaker box and turned the lights back on.