Death Devil (9781101559666) (12 page)

“Big words,” Orville said. “But while you're doin' all that cata-loguin' and comparin', people are bein' bit and foamin' at the mouth.”

“We don't know that the bites are the cause,” Belinda persisted.

“What else would cause it?” Orville challenged her. “What else made little Abigail tear out part of her own ma's neck? What else made the girl chomp off the ends of her own pa's fingers?”

“I keep telling you I don't know yet.”

“Yet,” Orville repeated, and gave his relatives a pointed look. “Tell us, Dr. Jackson. How long will it be before you
do
know?”

“There's no way to predict. I'll send blood and saliva samples to a chemist but it could take him weeks to get back to me. In the meantime the best I can do is mark their progress and see if any new symptoms develop and maybe then I'll have the clues I need.”

“Maybe then?” Orville said. He motioned at those in the yard. “And what are we supposed to do in the meantime? Twiddle our thumbs while more and more of us take to hissin' and bitin' and runnin' around all crazed?”

Belinda faced the crowd. “If you're asking my advice, here it is. Stay in your homes. Keep your children and pets inside. I'll sort this out. I'll promise you.”

“How long do we stay inside?” a man said. “A week? Two weeks? Who's goin' to feed our cows and our chickens and tend our fields?”

“Stay in our homes!” another man guffawed. “Should we hide under our beds, too?”

Some of them laughed.

“It's only until we have a handle on the situation,” Belinda said.

“We already do, missy,” a middle-aged woman in a bonnet told her. “It's rabies. It spreads when someone is bit. All we have to do is keep from bein' bit and we'll be fine.”

Orville seized the moment. “And the only way to be sure we're not bit is to round up those who have been and put them out of their misery.”

“What?” Belinda said.

Fargo cleared his throat. “He wants to shoot everyone who was bitten.”

“What?” Belinda said again, turning to Orville. “Are you insane?”

“No, I ain't,” Orville replied, “and I aim to keep it that way.”

“But you can't just kill them. What if it's not rabies? They might recover.”

“Can you promise us they will?” Orville demanded. “Can you promise us no one else will come down with it?”

From out of the throng came a gruff, “No, she can't! All she can do is make empty promises.” And out of their midst strolled Charles T. Dogood. He came to the porch and faced those in the yard and held his arms up. “Good people. All of you know me. All of you know how long and how tirelessly I have worked for the welfare of everyone in this community.”

“That's true, Charlie,” a man hollered.

“What do you say we should do?” another asked.

Dogood squared his shoulders and puffed out his chest. “Friends, I'll be honest. As much as I would like to say I have a cure for rabies, I don't. No one does. It saddens my heart that I'm powerless to help you when you need help the most.”

“That's all right, Charlie,” an old woman said. “No one expects you to be a miracle worker.”

“Thank you, Mildred,” Dogood said. “But before I offer my advice I want to be clear. I don't want anyone to accuse me of bias.” He paused to let that sink in. “It's no secret that I don't see eye to eye with our esteemed female physician. It's not just that she's female, as some would have you believe.

“I'm sure most of the women here can attest that I don't begrudge any woman her sex. No, the reason Dr. Jackson and I have been at odds is because from the day she stepped foot in Ketchum Falls she has tried to turn you against me. You've all heard her attacks, I'm sure. She's tried to convince you that the medicines I sell don't work when there are many here who can attest to the fact they do. She's tried to persuade you that she's a better healer—”

“She's no such thing,” a woman cried.

“—thank you, Clarinda. But as I was saying, she claims to be a better healer but when has she ever healed anyone my medicines couldn't?” Dogood shook his head. “No, far be it for me to level an unjust charge against someone, yet that is precisely what she has been doing.”

The looks thrown at Belinda weren't friendly. “Hold on, now,” she said to Dogood. “Perhaps I have suggested once or twice that you're not the miracle worker you pretend to be but that's hardly an unjust charge.”

“Then you admit trying to turn people against me?” Dogood said.

“You're putting words in my mouth.”

“But, madam,” Dogood said with oily grace, “you put the words there, not I.”

Muttering broke out.

Dogood turned back to his listeners. “I bear the woman no malice. She's misguided, is all. She thinks she knows better than you who you should go to when you're ill.”

“I do not,” Belinda said, but no one appeared to hear her.

“You still haven't told us what you think we should do,” a man reminded Dogood.

“Friends,” the patent medicine man said gravely, “I wouldn't presume to tell you to do anything. With your gracious consent, however, I'm willing to offer my advice.”

“Offer away,” Abner said.

“Very well.” Dogood hooked his thumbs in his vest. “It seems to me this community is at a crossroads. The question you need to ask yourselves is this. Do you want a healer who has only your best interests at heart and can treat you for ailments that medical science admits it can't? Or do you want a healer who thinks because she went to medical school, she knows better than everyone? A woman who plainly believes she has the God-given right to tell you how to think and what to do.”

“I never said any such thing!” Belinda exclaimed.

“You've asked them to get rid of me, have you not?” Dogood countered. “And before you answer, I remind you, madam, that they've heard you with their own ears.”

“You're turning my words against me,” Belinda said.

“If you want my advice,” Dogood said to the others, “you should seriously consider whether having her around is worth it. After all, she's a disrupting element. Instead of working with you, as I do, to build a better community, she spends her time enticing you to turn against me.”

“She has her nerve,” Clarinda said.

“I ask you to consider whether we wouldn't be better off without
her
,” Dogood said. “And if you do, perhaps now is the time to show her how you feel.”

“Show her in what way, Charlie?” a man asked.

“Why, I should think it would be obvious. Make her leave but be civilized about it. Make her pack her things and load her buggy and go. Don't tar and feather her as some have proposed.”

“She deserves tarrin',” someone called out.

“Might teach her to hold her tongue,” a woman shouted.

“Now, now,” Dogood said soothingly. “The poor woman can't help how she is. You can't punish someone for bein' who they are.”

“We can if we want to,” a woman cried.

“It would serve her right, tarrin' and featherin' her,” asserted a white-haired matron. “Maybe it would teach her to be a little more humble.”

“Humble?” Belinda angrily exploded. “When have I ever treated any of you with anything but the utmost respect?”

“You only think of yourself,” a man said.

A companion on his left nodded. “You've been a thorn in our side long enough. It's high time we got rid of you, like Charlie says.”

“Leave me out of this, good people,” Dogood said. “If you run her out it must be your decision.”

“I'm for it,” the woman in the bonnet said. “Who else? A show of hands?”

Nearly every arm was elevated.

Orville broke his long silence with, “Anyone who doesn't want to be part of this is welcome to leave or go inside and wait until it's over.” He pointed at several men. “There are old timbers lyin' out back of the barn that will do.” He pointed at a couple more. “And there should be tar in the small shed by the chicken coop.”

“That coop's right handy,” Abner said, “seein' as how we'll need a lot of feathers, too.”

“Surely you wouldn't,” Belinda said to them, aghast.

“Lady,” Clyde said, “we're about to run you out of here tied to a rail.”

Fargo had listened to enough. He rose out of the chair with his Colt in his hand.

Abner and Clyde seized Belinda Jackson. She cried out and struggled and some in the crowd laughed. Everyone was so intent on her, they didn't notice Fargo until he was behind Orville McWhertle and jammed the Colt's muzzle against the back of Orville's head. “Let her go.”

Orville stiffened and started to turn back but caught himself. “You again.”

“I won't say it twice.”

Abner and Clyde were glaring and still holding on to Belinda.

“He's bluffin',” Clyde declared.

“Sure is,” Abner agrees. “He knows if he shoots you, we'll kill him dead.”

“Maybe you will and maybe you won't,” Fargo said, “but Orville won't be around to see it.”

Several men at the front of the gathering moved toward the porch.

“No!” Orville commanded, and they stopped. “I know how this man is. He's not bluffing. I won't have my brains blown out because you think he is.”

“What do you want us to do, then?” Abner asked.

“Release her,” Orville said.

“Like hell I will,” Clyde said. “We're runnin' her out and we'll do the same to him, besides.”

There were murmurs of agreement from the rest of the assembled McWhertles.

Fargo shot Clyde. In the blink of an eye he sent a slug into Clyde's right shoulder and jammed the muzzle against Orville again.

Clyde was jolted by the impact and lost his hold on Belinda. Stumbling against the rail, he clutched it for support and wailed, “I'm shot! I'm shot!”

Again some of the men started forward. Again Orville hollered.

“Stand where you are, damn you! Didn't you just learn anythin'?”

“Oh, God, it hurts,” Clyde whimpered, his hand on the wound. “Someone help me.”

“I will,” Belinda said, “if Abner, here, will let go of me.”

“He doesn't,” Fargo said, “and he takes a bullet, too.”

Abner jerked his hands from her.

Belinda turned to Clyde.

“No,” Fargo said. “Fetch your bag. We're lighting a shuck.”

“But he's hurt,” Belinda said. “It's my job to help those who suffer. And then there's Abby and Edna and Harold. They need me.”

“Use your damn head,” Fargo said. “Look at them.” He gestured at the yard.

Nearly every face mirrored some degree of resentment or hate, the women included.

“After all I've done for them,” Belinda said quietly.

“You've tried to help us,” Orville conceded. “But we didn't ask you to. We don't want your help, woman, now or ever. You can't seem to get that through your head.”

“Fetch your bag,” Fargo said again. He wasn't sure how long he could hold the clan at bay. There was bound to be a hothead or two who wouldn't let a little thing like common sense stand in the way of getting themselves killed. “Fetch it
now
.”

Belinda nodded and hurried in.

“This won't end it,” Orville said. “Convince her to leave Ketchum Falls or it will get ugly.”

“You come after her,” Fargo said, “and you have no idea how ugly.”

“Look how many of us there are. You can't fight all of us.”

“There will be a lot less,” Fargo said.

It took Belinda ungodly long. Some in the crowd looked ready to rush the porch when she finally emerged with her black bag in hand.

“Sorry it took so long. I was checking on Abigail and Edna. They're both sleeping peacefully and neither has a fever.”

“Would they have a fever if it was rabies?” Orville asked.

“Usually but not always. Sometimes it takes weeks or months before all the symptoms show. But as I told you before, I'm not convinced it is rabies.”

“If not, what?”

“If you give me time I'm confident I can find out.”

“Don't listen to her,” Dogood said. “She knows full well it's rabies but she doesn't want to admit she can't be of any use.”

“Were I you, you son of a bitch,” Fargo said, “I'd keep my mouth shut.”

Dogood's Adam's-apple bobbed.

“This is how we're going to do it,” Fargo said to Orville. “Have your kin move over by the barn. Every last one. They don't, I'll shoot you. Then the doc and you and me will walk to our horses. Anyone tries to stop us, I'll shoot you. Once we're on, you're to step back with your hands in the air. Try any tricks, anything at all—”

“And you shoot me,” Orville finished.

“You can do that?” Belinda said. “Shoot an unarmed man?”

“Lady,” Orville answered before Fargo could, “this friend of yours could drop me dead and not care a whit.”

“Is that true?” Belinda asked.

“Now's not the time.” Fargo jabbed Orville with the Colt. “Get them moving.”

Many were reluctant but they did as Orville told them. Only after they were clear across the yard did Fargo say, “Let's go. You first. Down the steps.”

“I won't forget this,” Orville said.