"I got a pretty good idea why you got those stakes, but lemme ask a question."

"Why wait until the day?" Javotte asked.

"Yes, sir."

"Because most likely, unless Satan has changed the rules of the game, those truly possessed will be forced to sleep during the day. We can find them asleep, and kill them.

"The rules of the ... game? Just like maybe one troop plays another in softball? A ... game?"

"The oldest game in the world's history," Sam said. "G.o.d versus Satan."

Norris nodded his head and swallowed hard. "When ever you guys are ready."

Sam looked at Jobert. "Jobert? I'll ask you to stay here and guard those in the house, with Chief Pa.s.son."

"Honored, Sam," the old ex-Legionnaire said. "I did not surrender at Dien Bien Phu, and I shall not surrender here."

"I'll go with you, too," Matt said. "If I might make a suggestion? ..."

"Sure."

"I'll ride with Father Javotte, you with Trooper Norris. We might be able to ..." He shook his head and swallowed. "... accomplish more by splitting up."

"Good idea," Sam said, handing the Louisiana trooper a half dozen stakes. "You ready?"

"I reckon."

"They are coming, Princess," Janet told Xaviere.

"They are fools!" The Princess of Darkness spat the words. "Overconfident mortals who shall soon be destroyed."

"The Dorgenois demon faced no mortal," the Princess was reminded.

Princess Xaviere's smile was ugly. "But the priest and Sam and the others coming this morning are mortals. The Master promised us victory this time."

"Yes, Princess. But of course. And there is still my daughter, Bess."

"She can destroy the Balon b.a.s.t.a.r.d tonight. Advise her of that."

"Look for them in sheds and in darkened houses," Sam told the trooper. "Be very careful and don't let one bite you."

"Just like in the movies, I'll become one?"

"Just like in the movies."

"What in the h.e.l.l is that down there?" Trooper Norris pointed.

Sam squinted his eyes against the bright sunlight. The temperature was already, before seven o'clock, in the nineties.

"I don't know."

"Oh, s.h.i.t!" the trooper said. "That's Cliff Lester and bis bunch."

"They've got enough guns, that's for sure."

Norris let off the brake and moved his patrol car forward, stopped in the middle of the street. He and Sam got out to confront Cliff Lester.

"Get out of our way!" Brother Lester shouted at the men. "Or we'll roll right over you. We are the Army of the Lord."

"I thought that's what we were," James Norris muttered.

'I wish you would all join us," Sam said. "We'd stand a better chance of defeating Satan."

But he knew when he said it, his words were falling on deaf ears.

"Satan himself is not here, you fool!" Lester shouted. "Not personally. personally. I have been instructed by an angel from the Lord to destroy all the residents of this wicked city. This city has become a modern-day Sodom and Gomorrah. It is wicked and depraved and sinful. Now stand aside, we are on our way to burn the library." I have been instructed by an angel from the Lord to destroy all the residents of this wicked city. This city has become a modern-day Sodom and Gomorrah. It is wicked and depraved and sinful. Now stand aside, we are on our way to burn the library."

"The library?" library?" James blurted. "What's wrong with the library?" James blurted. "What's wrong with the library?"

"Nasty, filthy, wicked, l.u.s.tful, profane books!" Lester shouted.

"Amen!" came the chorus.

"You ignorant redneck," James said. "Dumb white trash, that's all you are."

"I'll smite you hip and thigh!" Lester shouted, raising a club over his head.

Lester found both eyes suddenly crossing, as they looked down the barrel of Norris's .357. Man could sure get that gun out in a hurry.

"Lower that club, you hillbilly," James told the lay preacher. "Or I'll blow your head off."

"You heathen!" Lester said. But he lowered the club.

"Now you listen to me," Sam told the leader and the followers. "You're not burning any any buildings. The buildings are not our problem. And be advised of this, too: there are lots of people in this town who are not on either side ..." buildings. The buildings are not our problem. And be advised of this, too: there are lots of people in this town who are not on either side ..."

"If they are not on the side of decency then they are on the side of filth and perversion!" Sister Bertha howled from the crowd.

"That's right!" Lester stood his ground. "There is no middle road."

James said it first. "They don't understand, Sam. They're all about three bricks shy of a full load."

Lester glared at the trooper. "No," he hissed at James and Sam. "It is you who do not understand. Neither of you. p.o.r.nography has brought this plague upon us. The filthy words and dirty pictures are to blame. The mark of Cain is on this town, and on its people ..."

"It's not the mark of Cain, Lester," Sam said. "It's the Mark of the Beast."

"Stand aside!" Those behind the man lifted their shotguns and rifles and pistols.

Sam waved the so-called religious mob to move on past them.

They marched on, singing.

"Now we got that to deal with, too," James remarked.

"Yes," Sam agreed. "They're so opinionated and prejudiced they don't realize they're wrong."

"Yeah. But do you realize who is gonna be caught up in the middle of it?"

"Yes. Us."

17.

Matt Comeaux and Father Javotte came face to face with a group of young men and women. Among them, Ted Wilson.

The punk grinned at Matt. "h.e.l.lo there, Teacher. I hoped it would be me who got to you."

The wild-eyed group of young men and women could not see the pistols stuck in the back pockets of Comeaux and Javotte; most of them were looking at the stakes in the men's hands.

"It isn't too late for any of you," Javotte said. "Let us help you, and you can then help us destroy the evil."

The crowd of young people laughed. Ted said, "Stuff it, Teacher!"

Javotte flushed, reaching the end of his patience.

Ted glared at Matt. "You stayed on my back for years, you b.a.s.t.a.r.d. You steady picked on me all the d.a.m.ned time."

"I tried to give you an education, Ted. I tried to make you see there is something beyond high school sports. I guess I failed."

"I guess you're gonna die, Comeaux!"

"We're all going to die, Ted." Matt spoke softly, but his words were hard-edged. He stood with a stake in his right hand, a mallet in his left.

"Oh, my, how profound, Teach." He cut his eyes to Javotte. "You gonna pray for my lost soul, Zorro?"

Javotte shook his head. "No. I think it's far too late for that."

"Man's got some smarts, people," Ted said, jerking his thumb toward Javotte. He looked at Matt. "Got any last words, Teach?"

Matt's smile was rather sad. "You poor young fool."

Ted was genuinely astonished. "Me! "Me! Man, we're in control of this town, and you feel sorry for me? You really are some kind of nut." Man, we're in control of this town, and you feel sorry for me? You really are some kind of nut."

"Just a Christian, Ted," Matt replied.

Ted lunged at the former princ.i.p.al. Matt lifted the stake and held firm, allowing Ted to impale himself on the sharpened stake. The point of the stake took the unwashed, undisciplined follower of Satan in the hollow of his throat, exiting out the back of his neck, slightly to the left.

Ted gurgled and bubbled and staggered backward, his eyes wide with the shock of finally realizing he was not immortal. He was going to die.

Matt pulled a .38 from his back pocket and shot another believer in and practicer of the Dark Arts between the eyes. The range was so close that powder burns were evident around the small hole that leaked blood and fluid. The young man dropped to the ground and kicked and trembled for a moment, then lay still as death took him winging into the foul arms of that which he considered his G.o.d.

Javotte brought his hammer down onto the head of a young man, wincing as he heard the skull pop under the steel head. The young man slumped to the ground, in a kneeling position, sort of like he might be praying in death.

Both Matt and Javotte seriously doubted that.

What remained of the gang of thugs and would-be toughs, male and female, split.

A scream ripped through the hot early-morning air. It echoed around the men, confusing them as to direction. Again, the scream clawed the air in almost mindless terror.

Javotte pointed. "Over there!"

Priest and schoolteacher ran toward the shrieking. They ran around the corner of a house just as the screaming ended with a flat bubbling sound.

R. M. Dorgenois knelt on the ground, sucking the blood from a woman he had pinned to the ground with one hairy and clawed hand. He had ripped the woman's dress from her, shredded her panties, and was attempting to mount the woman, his ragged and filthy suit trousers down around his ankles. The woman managed to scream once more while he sucked her blood from the puncture wounds in her neck.

"Too late for her," Javotte noted as the woman physically and mentally succ.u.mbed to the powers of that which lay beyond the realm of understanding.

Murmuring a prayer, Matt Comeaux ran up to the old man and lifted a stake high. He brought the stake down hard, driving the point through the man's back.

R. M. lifted his animal-like head and roared and howled as Matt worked the stake back and forth, pushing forward as he worked.

R. M.'s strength was enormous. He rose to his knees and tried to arch his back, anything to relieve the awful pain.

Matt summoned all his strength and pushed the stake further into the man's chest, the point finally reaching the heart.

A yellowish, sickeningly odious liquid gushed from R. M.'s mouth. He howled an animal-like wail as his clawed hand tried to work its way behind his back to grasp the stake.

Matt could hear the sounds of hammering but dared not lift his eyes to seek the source. He felt he knew. He held onto the stake and worked it back and forth, enlarged the gaping wound, pushing the stake deeper and deeper into the heart of the sp.a.w.n of h.e.l.l.

R. M. gave one final shriek of pain and slumped to one side.

Leaving the stake piercing the dark heart, Matt looked toward the priest. Javotte was hammering a stake into the heart of the woman, whose features were already being altered by the forces of Darkness. Hair was rapidly covering the woman's face and arms, her fingers were resembling claws. Her hands were clutching the stake being pounded into her chest. Blood was pouring from her mouth and chest. She hissed and howled and screamed curses upon the priest.

The point of the stake penetrated her heart. The woman jerked on the ground, then lay still, her claws falling away from the stake.

Both Javotte and Matt stood back, sweating and panting, and watched in horror and fascination as the features of R. M. and the woman began to change. In seconds, the man and woman had changed into human form. It was such an unexpected metamorphosis neither could do anything except stare in shocked silence for a long moment.

Javotte's voice brought the teacher out of his staring.

"Watch out! To your left!"

Matt spun around, reaching for his pistol. Matt paused, again staring in disbelief. He was looking at a huge black panther. No panthers that size in this area for years-more years than Matt had on him.

"Look at his eyes," Javotte whispered.