The Devil's Touch (25 page)

The phone jangled the nerves of all present.

"I thought it was out of order." Monty said.

"Only for us," Sam told him.

Monty jerked the receiver to his ear. "Yes?"

Sheriff Jenkins. "Heard about your bad news, Monty. Thought I'd call and see how you people were getting along."

"What bad news, Pat?"

"Oh—your getting fired and all that."

"Uh-huh. I'm certain you're really torn up about it, Pat," Monty replied.

The voice from the seat of Clark County chuckled darkly. "All right, Pat. We'll play it your way. When did you put it all together?"

"Although it seems like a week ago, Pat—yesterday. How long has it been going on?'

Again, the chuckle. "I don't see any harm in leveling with you, Monty. None of you people are ever going to talk about it. Long time, Monty. More than a hundred years back. Goes all the way back to my grandfather's time. Maybe even further back than that. I never question the Master, Monty. I just obey."

"You need help, Pat."

"I
need help, son? You got it all backwards, son. Boy, you don't even realize what a bind you people are in, do you? You'll know it before long, I'm thinking. I'm going to fuck your wife, Monty. And I'm going to put it to her right in front of your eyes; make you watch me hump her. Snooty bitch always did think she was too good for us small-town folks. Of course," the voice took on a softer, smoother, soothing tone, "it don't have to be that way, Monty. You could change it. Join us, Monty. Don't fight us; you can't win."

Keep him talking, Monty thought. Anything to find out the odds against us. Keep him talking. "You're that certain you're going to win this, Pat."

"In the bag, Monty. In the bag. Son, if the Master would let us, we'd overrun you people by sheer numbers. But he wants to play with you for a time. Like a big cat with a little mouse. You get it, Monty. Mouse. Like in pussy. Your wife's pussy."

Monty kept his temper in check. "I don't think God will let us down, Pat."

"God?" the sheriff said with a nasty laugh. "Don't count on that wimp, Monty. He don't have a big enough set of balls to meet the Master head on."

Monty suppressed a shudder. He could not imagine himself speaking of God in that manner. "When do you make your move against us, Pat?"

"Soon, son. Very soon. It's going to be fun listening to you beg when we nail you to a cross."

"You're insane!" Monty said.

The dark laughter rolled through the lines.

"I'll see you, Pat," Monty said grimly.

"You're going to see me all right, Monty. You're going to watch me hump your wife." The line went dead.

Monty was conscious of his wife's eyes on him. He turned and looked at her. "Trouble, Monty?" she asked. "More trouble for us?"

He had never held back the truth from her. "Yes. Sheriff Jenkins is one of them. I would imagine some of his men are in it, too. So, yeah, more trouble."

"You're not telling me all of it, Monty. Did Pat mention me?"

"Yes. And I imagine you know in what way. It was—very ugly."

"He's undressed me with his eyes every time I've been around him. Spare me the details. The things that were done to that poor girl in there—Desiree—were positively disgusting."

"Yeah," Monty sighed the reply. "I bet so."

Viv came to him and put a hand on his arm. "We're going to make it, Monty."

"You betcha, babe." He grinned at her. "We're going to hang in there and go for it."

Monty's walkie-talkie clicked. Monty picked it up and acknowledged the signal.

"Father Le Moyne here, Monty. Let me speak with Sam for a moment, please."

Sam picked up his handy-talkie. "Go ahead, Father."

"Can you and your wife meet me at your house, Sam?" the priest asked. "Leave the child with Monty and Viv, if you will."

"I guess so, Father," Sam signaled. "Sure we can. What's going on?"

"Saving a lost soul."

"We're on our way."

Monty had, of course, heard the entire transmission. "Jon or Jeanne," he said.

"Forget Jon," Sam said, and Nydia sent a silent message to him agreeing. "It's too late for Jon. He's lost forever."

"Sam!" Nydia called, as a force gripped her. All present watched her grab the arms of her chair and hold on, mentally fighting the erotic images that darkly clouded her mind.

The silent voice whispered hoarsely to the young woman, bringing back the events of that afternoon. The voice spewed profanely and vividly, carrying with it actual scenes of Nydia and Jon to her mind's eyes. Nydia relived the young man parting her legs and entering her. She groaned as the sensation became real. She again experienced, mentally and physically, his long thick push inward, filling her with pain and pleasure.

Nydia fumbled for Sam's hand and gripped it tightly. He pulled her head to his chest and held her as her mental images spilled over to him. Then the force gripped Sam's mind, and he relived his moments with Janet and Desiree. Their hands and lips on him.

Nydia and Sam first experienced anger at the shared scenes. Then a renewed spirit filled them both and they concentrated on their love for one another.

Love conquered the Dark One's force. The voice and the scenes began dissolving, breaking apart. The voice tapered off into an evil hissing; an angry dark snake, uncoiling and sliding away into the slime that is its home.

Nydia released her grip on Sam's hand. The young couple looked at each other. They were smiling. Nydia said, "We beat it, Sam. We proved we can beat it."

"Love," he said. "The Dark One cannot defeat love. The emotion is disgusting to him." He helped her to her feet. "Come on. Let's go help Father Le Moyne."

"I chose your place because it's away from town and because of the faith I felt when I drew near it," Father Le Moyne explained. "And for other reasons: an exorcism can be very unnerving, and very loud."

The priest looked at Jeanne. She snarled at him. "Mother-fucker!" she hissed.

Father Le Moyne glanced at Joe and Mille. Joe's worst fears had become reality. He was about to take part in this spook stuff. He shuddered.

The priest said, "Mille, would you please bathe the child and dress her in a white gown. Then you and Joe secure her to a bed. Tightly."

Joe and Mille literally dragged the screaming, profane, protesting teenager to a bathroom.

"You're going to have to help me bathe her, Joe," Mille told the man.

"I ain't helpin' bathe no full-growed girl!"

"Get your skinny butt in here!" Mille shouted.

"Lordy, Lordy!" Joe muttered.

"Yeah, come on in, Joe," Jeanne called. "I'll let you finger-fuck me."

"That settles it!" Joe said. "I ain't about to come in there with ya'll."

"I'll help her," Nydia said. "You people put clean sheets on the bed in there," she said pointing.

Mille and Nydia ripped the dirty blouse and jeans from the teenager and bodily tossed her into the shower, along with a bar of soap.

"Scrub it clean, sister!" Mille told her. "Don't make me have to come in there and do it. 'Cause I'll find a scrub brush and peel the hide off of you."

"Goddamn slut!" Jeanne cursed. She then smiled an evil grimace as she felt help on its way. The force entered the bathroom. Jeanne showered quickly and then faced the two women. "You wash me," she said to her sister and Nydia. "Both of you."

The force was stronger than ever before. The two women could do nothing except obey.

Mille and Nydia were in the stall with the teenager. They could not recall taking off their clothes. They could not recall stepping into the large stall. Jeanne fondled Nydia's breasts. She ran her hand over Nydia's belly and dipped downward to caress her.

"No!" Nydia screamed. She slapped the girl, knocking her down in the slippery shower stall.

Nydia pulled Mille from the shower and slapped the woman. She dressed, all the while concentrating on her love for God. "Think of God," she told Mille. "Think only of God."

The combined thoughts of pure good was too much for the force. With an evil hiss, it was gone.

"That was too close for comfort," Mille said. "Thank you, Nydia."

"It will get worse, don't ever believe otherwise. But to fight it, think of love and the Lord."

"Almost got you both that time," Jeanne said. "We'll get you yet."

Nydia tossed the girl a white gown. "Dress!" she said curtly.

They then, with Joe's help, dragged the teenager into a bedroom and tied her down. They joined the others in the den.

"I don't know if this will work," Father Le Moyne said with a long sigh. "I have already violated the first rule by not consulting the bishop. The Rituale Romanum is quite clear on that matter. But, perhaps in this case—" He shrugged. "Of the twenty-one heads prefixed in the rite of Rituale, I can safely say I meet most of them. I have not fasted, nor have I lived a blameless life. I can but hope that will be overlooked. I chose not to perform the exorcism in a church for reasons of my own.

"You people—all of you—will act as my witnesses. 1 cannot allow the Blessed Sacrament near the girl; but I have my crucifix and holy water. I am going into Little Sam's bedroom for a few moments of prayer. Please do not disturb me. When I come out, we must begin immediately."

Father Le Moyne walked softly down the carpeted hall and entered the bedroom. He closed the door behind him.

"Lordy, Lordy!" Joe said. "What in the world is a good Methodist doin' in this mess?"

The quartet walked into the bedroom where Jeanne lay tied, hands to the headboard posts, feet secured to the base of the bed. She was dressed in a white gown of Nydia's. The gown was much too large for the young girl, and she looked pathetic lying on the bed.

Until she opened her mouth.

"Goddamnmotherfuckingcockeatingpussylappingshitfacedassholesuckingbastards!" she shouted, the filth rolling from her mouth in waves.

Only Joe had anything to say about that outburst.

"Lordy, Lordy!"

Father Le Moyne entered the room. He was dressed in surplice and violet stole. He said nothing to anyone. He signed himself, Jeanne, and the others with the sign of the cross, then sprinkled them all with holy water. Jeanne thrashed on the bed and screamed in pain as the holy water touched her. She cursed them all. Father Le Moyne ignored her profanity. He placed one end of the violet stole around the neck of Jeanne, securing it. She screamed and hissed and tried to bite his hand. When she saw he was too quick for her snapping teeth, she spat at the priest, her spittle running down his face. Father Le Moyne paid no attention to it. He knelt down by the child, only Mille making the responses required.

Father Le Moyne began praying, his voice rising above the screaming hissing filth coming from the mouth of the teenager.

"You'll all die!" Jeanne howled. "You'll die horribly. I'll see to that, you cock-eaters! I'll see that it takes days for you shits to die."

Father Le Moyne prayed in Latin for a few moments, then switched to English.

"Fuck you!"
Jeanne shouted, writhing on the bed. "You piss-faced son-of-a-bitch!"

"Oh God," the priest said, "Whose property is ever to have mercy and to forgive: Receive our supplications and prayers, that of Thy mercy and loving-kindness Thou wilt set free this Thy handmaiden who is fast bound by the chain of dark sins."

The priest continued the long prayer, his voice steady, rising over the howling and screaming of Jeanne. She hissed and cursed and spat at Le Moyne.

The filth from her mouth was staggeringly profane.

"I command thee, whosoever thou art, thou unclean spirit, and all thy companions possessing this child of God, that by the mysteries of the Incantation, Passion, Resurrection, and Ascension of our Lord Jesus Christ, by the sending of the Holy Ghost, and by the coming of the same our Lord to judgment, thou tell me thy name, the day, and the hour of thy going out, by some sign: and, that to me, a minister of God, although unworthy, thou be wholly obedient in all things: nor hurt this creature of God, or those that stand by, or their goods in any way."

Father Le Moyne signed himself and Jeanne on the forehead, the mouth—being very careful to avoid her flashing teeth—and the breast. Jeanne continued to shriek profanity at the man. The priest began to read from the Holy Gospel, reading from Mark and Luke and John. His voice was low and steady. The room darkened, the lights dimming. All present could feel the presence of both good and evil. A foul odor entered the small bedroom, assailing the nostrils of the believers. Jeanne laughed on the bed and cursed them all.

Father Le Moyne began to pray: "Almighty Lord, Word of God the Father, Jesus Christ, God and Lord of every creature: Who didst give to Thy Holy Apostles power to tread upon serpents and scorpions: Who amongst other of Thy wonderful commands didst vouchsafe to say—Put the devils to flight: By Whose power Satan fell from heaven like lightning: with supplication I beseech Thy Holy Name in fear and trembling—"

A hot stinking wind rose in heavy gusts outside the home, battering the stone walls. A limb was torn from a tree, smashing on the roof and falling like living thunder to the ground. An owl hooked its claws in a window screen and tried to beat its way into the bedroom. Jeanne shrieked and howled and poured verbal filth on the priest. Her gown became dark with heavy sweat.

The priest had never stopped: "—that to me Thy most unworthy servant, granting me pardon of all my faults, Thou wilt vouchsafe to give constancy of faith and power, that shielded the might Of Thy Holy arm, in trust and safety I may approach to attack this cruel devil, through Thee, O Jesus Christ, the Lord our God, Who shalt come to judge the quick and the dead, and the world by fire, Amen."

"Fuck you!" Jeanne shouted. "Fuck all you cock-suckers!" she screamed. "All praise the Master! All praise the Dark One."

Father Le Moyne signed the cross and placed his hand on Jeanne's head, pinning the child's head to the sweat-soaked pillow.

He said, "Behold the Cross of the Lord, flee ye of the contrary part. The Lion of the tribe of Judah, the Root of David, hath prevailed—"

"Shove it up your stinking asshole, Zorro!" Jeanne shouted defiantly.