Cat's Cradle (30 page)

8

The crew chief of the power crew stared at Sheriff Garrett in utter disbelief. Finally, he blurted, “Jumpin’ Jesus Christ, Sheriff! Do you have any idea what you’re asking me to do?”

“I am perfectly aware of what I am requesting,” Dan said.

The man shook his head. “The devil caused this weather, huh?”

“That is correct.”

“Sheriff,” the crew chief said. “Let me get this straight. You want me and my boys to divert all the power from those high lines,” he pointed, “and feed it into a metal grid your people are laying down?”

“That is correct.”

“Sheriff, are you aware of just how many volts are running through those lines?”

“Not really. But it’s ample, I’m sure.”

“Ample!”
the man yelled. “Ample! The man says ample. Oh, yeah, yeah, it’s ample all right. Sheriff, when all that juice hits that wire, I don’t want to be within ten miles of this place. It’s gonna look like the Fourth of July. It’s gonna fry that wire. It’s gonna . . .”

“Calm down,” Dan told him. “It isn’t a question of whether you like it or not. It isn’t even a question of
whether
you’re going to do it. If it can be done, you are
going
to do it. The question is: can you do it?”

Just think, the crew chief thought—I voted for this nutso! “Oh, yeah, Sheriff. Yeah, we can do it. But what if we refuse? What if we decide to take your threat of jail instead?”

“Then I’ll have it blown down,” Dan told him. “I have the people to do it, and the explosives are right over there.” He pointed.

“You’re really serious!”

“Yes, I am.”

The crew chief sighed. “For the record, you are ordering me to do this, knowing I am opposed to it?”

“That is correct. I will take full responsibility.”

“Along with the state police,” Captain Taylor said.

“Okay, Sheriff. Do we get hazardous duty pay for this?”

“Free sandwiches and all the coffee you can drink.”

“And then you’ll tell us what’s going on in the county? Really going on?”

“I’ve already told you.”

“Wonderful. I can tell my boss the devil made me do it. Come on, Sheriff!”

“You’ll see. If we all live through it.”

The man paled. “See
what
?”

“Let me put it this way, chief. What would happen if several million volts of electricity were to hit . . . well, atomic matter?”

“I don’t know! I’m a lineman, not a scientist. Probably blow up, I guess. How much atomic matter are we talking about?”

“I don’t know,” Dan admitted.

“Oh, that’s just great. Wonderful.” The crew chief removed his hard hat and wiped the sweat away. “The devil is in Ruger County? This place belongs to Satan? We got monsters crawling around the county? Little bugs that eat people? Zombies? You know what I think, Sheriff? I think you’re
nuts
!”

“Think what you like. Just get to work. Before I lose patience and blow that tower down.”

“Yes, sir!” The lineman saluted. “Right now, General.” He yelled to his men. “Call the plant in Valentine. Tell ’em to stand by for a shut-down. Get that cherry-picker right over there. Adjust those spotlights.” He looked back at the Sheriff, Captain Taylor, and Father Denier. “Sheriff, you know this is going to knock power out all over the place.”

“I know. But only for a short time. When you’re finished with the bypass the power can be restored until we need it, right?”

The crew chief sighed. “It’s not quite that simple, Sheriff. I still think you’re nuts.”

He turned and walked away.

“Perhaps we are,” Denier muttered.

“Why do you say that, Father?” Taylor asked.

“Mere mortals doing battle with Satan.” He looked at Dan, a strange glint in his eyes. Almost as if he could see something about the man that Dan did not know.

It made Dan uncomfortable. He said, “You’re a mortal, Father. And you’ve fought him before.”

“Not on this scale.”

“Are you a betting man, Father?”

“I have been known to dabble from time to time.”

“How would you put the odds in this?”

Denier shrugged in the deep night. “Oh, fifty/ fifty.”

“That good, huh?” Taylor smiled.

When the new troopers arrived, Taylor assigned them out, putting most of them helping to lay the many rolls of wire, most of it four and five foot fencing. About an hour after Lou and his people had pulled out, Captain Taylor stood straight up and looked around him, his eyes large.

“Holy cow!” he said.

“What’s the matter, Captain?” one of his men asked.

“Nothing!” Taylor said. He blinked his eyes and rubbed his hands together. “Get to work, men! Time’s a-wasting. Work, work, work!” He began walking rapidly around the compound, yelling orders, unable to stand still or keep his mouth shut.

Denier watched the captain’s antics for a moment, then asked, “Is the man ill?”

“Naw, Father,” Kenny said, an amused look on his face. “He’s just speedin’ his butt off, that’s all.”

* * *

Bowie stood by a bedroom window of the Garrett house. He had walked through hundreds of cats on his way to the home. None had bothered him. They were all answering to the same silent call. The hot winds carrying dark voices. Bowie looked through the wire covering the screen and window. He could see that the window was unlocked. Carrie and Linda were asleep on the double bed. The faint glow of a digital clock was the only illumination. The hum of the central air conditioning would cover any slight noise he might make. He stared. The girls were dressed only in bras and panties.

Bowie licked his now thick lips, the lust in him rising, the now-wild blood surged through his veins.

He fumbled for his pocket knife and tried to open it, his animal fingers, gnarled and clawed, clumsy with the blade. He dropped the knife several times. Growling low in frustration, he used a long, thick, curved fingernail to quietly rip the chicken wire and screen. His wild eyes on the girls, drool leaked from his mouth, the thick ropy drool staining his shirt. He reached for the window. One of the girls stirred restlessly in her sleep. Bowie froze until she settled down. Carrie abruptly sat up in bed.

“S’wrong?” Linda muttered.

“Bathroom,” Carrie said softly. “Go back to sleep.” She padded from the room, leaving the door open.

The cats gathered around Bowie’s ankles, rubbing against him, restless, sensing prey was imminent. Their low purring a menacing soft buzz in the hot night.

Bowie opened the window and leaped into the room. He hit Linda on the jaw with a hard fist, grabbed her, and tossed her out the window, to land heavily on the ground. He jumped out of the bedroom, picking up the stunned and bruised girl, and ran off, across the road.

The cats leaped into the house through the open window. They filled the room, sitting on the bed, the dresser, covering the floor. One of the cats brushed against the door, the jar closing the door. It closed with a soft click. The cats waited.

Returning from the bathroom, Carrie stopped in the hall. The door to her bedroom was closed, and she distinctly remembered leaving it open a bit.

Maybe the wind blew it shut?

No, the window was closed; Dad’s orders. Besides, there was no wind.

Maybe Linda had closed the door?

Not likely. She was sound asleep before Carrie had left the room.

Then ... what?

Carrie put her ear to the door. She could hear something, but couldn’t quite identify the sound. Fear gripped her as she stood, undecided as to what to do.

She ran up the hall to her mother’s room. Vonne sat up the instant the door opened.

“Something’s wrong!” Carrie whispered. “Come on.

Vonne woke Carl and Mike, as they pulled on jeans, Carrie told them about the door.

“Let’s go,” Carl said, leading the way. At the bedroom door, he held up his hand for silence and put an ear to the door.

Purring.

He looked at his mother and motioned them all back down the hall. At the archway, he said, “The room is full of cats. I can hear them purring.”

“But how did they get in?” Carrie asked, close to tears. “I was only out of the room for about a minute. And the window was closed!”

“Settle down. I don’t know. But I don’t understand why Linda didn’t scream.”

“Maybe she ...” Carrie swallowed hard. “Maybe she didn’t have time to ... before the cats, I mean, got her!” She began crying softly.

Vonne pulled the girl close and held her.

“I don’t think the cats got her,” Mike said. “She would have yelled, knocked over something-anything. But we’ve got to find out. Maybe somebody opened the window and grabbed her. Carl, you game to cracking the door a bit?”

“Yeah. I don’t see that we have a choice. How are we gonna handle it?”

“Well, I guess the cats are back outside, too. Obviously, we can’t go outside. We’ll ...”

Carrie broke away from her mother and ran down the hall to her bedroom door. “Linda! ” she screamed. “Answer me, Linda. Are you in there?”

Low menacing purring greeted her question.

“
Linda!”

Vonne grabbed her daughter by the shoulders and literally dragged her back down the hall. She pushed her into her bedroom and looked back at the boys. “Do you best, boys. And please be careful.”

“Let’s put on boots,” Mike said. “And get what’s left of that chicken wire. It’s on the back porch. Get enough for four or five layers. We’ll take down a closet door and cut a hole in it, nail the wire on both sides for extra protection. When you open the bedroom door, I’ll hold the other door in place while we barricade it shut, or nail it, or some goddamned thing. We’ll look through the wire. How’s that sound to you?”

“Let’s go!”

* * *

Bowie ripped the panty and bra from the girl and held her to the ground, opening her legs. Twice he was forced to stop his crazed assault and beat the girl into submission. Unhappy with the position, Bowie twisted the girl to her hands and knees, mounting her from behind, like the animal he had become.

Finished, he pulled up his trousers and stood over the sobbing and bruised girl. He threw back his head and howled at the dark sky, the howling echoing through the hot, sticky darkness.

Bowie used his belt to tie her wrists together and secure the other end to a small tree. Then he growled and trotted off into the night.

* * *

“What do you want us to do?” the oldest of the Reynolds’ kids asked the grotesqueness.

“Remain in hiding, here, until dusk of this day. If all goes well, you will know. If we fail, you will know that as well. You are all young and have reproductive abilities. That is one of the reasons you are still alive. There are others like you around this area. If by some chance we should fail, you and the others will be left to carry on. You are marked, your children will be marked. You and they are servants of the Master—forever. Do you all understand?”

They nodded their understanding.

“Then, goodbye. I hope to see you all in a matter of hours. If not? ...” It laughed evilly and shuffled out into the darkness.

The Old Ones were moving. In the church, in the auditorium, the Old One looked at the trappings of Christian faith and laughed. Its eyes glowed with fury. The pulpit exploded in a mass of flame. Lifting its eyes, the cross on the wall behind the blazing pulpit melted under the heat. The communion table disintegrated under the force, bits of blazing wood flying about, landing on the carpet, the drapes. Fire leaped to fire. The Old One looked at the piano and laughed. The keys were depressed, a loud, discordant noise filling the burning church. The Old One chuckled and shuffled out into the hot night.

In the basement of the school, the Old One stepped over the sucked bones and climbed awkwardly up the steps leading to the main hallway. At the door, the Old One’s eyes glowed. The door burst into a thousand burning pieces, the door knob shooting forward like a large bullet, white hot with heat. The door knob smashing into and through a wooden locker, setting it on fire.

The Old One laughed, filled with new strength, the laughter echoing throughout the empty school. The lockers on both sides of the long hall were blazing as the spawn of hell shuffled out into the sweltering night.

Another Old One walked the streets of Valentine, unafraid. The Old One set cars blazing, the gas tanks exploding under the force from its eyes. All the Old Ones were moving toward the location of Anya and Pet.

The cats went wild. They hurled their bodies against doors and windows, yowling and shrieking in fury, trying to gain entrance into the houses. They sought blood and human flesh. They could smell the fear of those locked inside and that scent drove them crazy. A few homes were penetrated. The screaming of those trapped inside the homes ripped through the heated air. The odor of blood hung heavy.

The cats moved, en masse, from house to house, searching, seeking, the ancient hunter’s bloodlust raging within them.

* * *

“Now! Mike yelled.

Carl pushed the bedroom door open, knocking a dozen cats spinning and sprawling and howling and hissing. Mike slammed the closet door over the opening. Several cats had their heads caught between the door and the jamb. The boys stomped the heads flat with their boots. The hall carpet oozed blood and brains. Vonne began nailing boards across the new door, securing it. She hit her thumb twice and cussed. Inside the room, the cats howled and hissed their rage at being trapped. They leaped and flung themselves at the door, at the screen covering the hole. Several managed to stick their paws through the wire. Mike and Carl hacked at the paws with butcher knives; slashed at furry heads and sharp teeth with the knives. Blood spattered the walls, leaking down the door.

“Mother!” Carl yelled. “Get Carrie. The two of you fill every container you can find with hot water. I bet that’ll get rid of them!”