Devil Dead (24 page)

What the hell was Novak thinking? The poor dirty recluse was gonna think Claire was a witch in training, or at the least a
Bewitched
devotee.

The woman actually relaxed at that, like this subject matter was right down her alley. She sat down in a very rickety rocker and started moving it back and forth. More jingling ensued. They waited some more.

Adonis finally looked at Claire, her dark eyes quite intense, almost glowing with white reflections and pinpoint lights. “It is very bad stuff, that worshippin' of Satan.”

Okay, Adonis was indeed a bona fide genius. Claire didn't say as much, however, aware now that a brief and dead silence must follow every pronouncement. But she did nod, knowing herself, and full well, that devil worship wasn't exactly Sunday school lesson material.

“Tell her about the people down here who like to do it,” Novak prodded his abnormal neighbor.

Adonis said, “They hide it, you know.”

“I should think so,” Claire said very slowly, wanting in on the conversation but not wanting to overwhelm the girl with too much verbal stimulation.

“They kill people. Have seen it, and hear the screams of the damned.”

Oookay. “Do they kill these people, well, like, next door at Novak's place?” Claire tried to just nudge her a little bit into giving out more info, but softly and gently, and yes, slowly.

Adonis threw back her head and laughed heartily. Guess the ice was broken. “Will ain't no hellster.”

Hellster? Well, okay. Good to know.

“What is a hellster, Ms. Adonis?”

Serious again. Hollow eyes still burning with those white pinpricks. “The ones who has gone down there into hell and met the devil and got some of his charms, and various and sundry other evil things, like talons of evil birds, and claws of his giant hell hounds.”

Well, she did like to talk, if you got her primed and the subject was something devil related, which she appeared to be interested in. On the other hand, she was obviously stark-raving nuts on top of the schizoid thing. Claire looked at Novak with her most intense,
Seriously? Really, Novak, really?
expression.

Novak ignored her, which was his wont.

“How do you know these things?” Claire asked the girl.

“They come around sometimes and make me do stuff.”

“Really? Like what?”

“You know, drain blood outta my animals and stuff.” She pointed at the dead animals hanging in the trees.

That explained the myriad of Folgers cans full of raccoon bodily fluids.

“Who are these demons? What do they say?”

“They whisssppeeerr what they think, like thaaaat, they whisssppeeer to me, like ghosts talllllllkin'.”

Claire could only stare at her. Not surprisingly, she was now getting even more wigged out. In fact, this whole visit was just so way past super-duper creepsville that she hardly knew what else to say. Then she noticed that Adonis had little chicken bones, or something that looked like them, thread into her dreads. After that, Claire really, really didn't know what to say.

Novak did know what to say. “What else do these evil ones say?”

“They say, ‘Weeee neeed bloooood.'”

Holy crap. Claire just wanted to get the hell outta there. Novak didn't move a muscle. Probably scared to.

“What else do they say?”

“They say, ‘Leaveeeee it undeeerr the treeeees.'”

“Do you?”

Adonis nodded and looked as clueless as her favorite stuffed crow. Claire wondered if Novak could possibly take this girl seriously, or if he was just crazy as a loon himself and Claire was just now seeing the first glimpse of it. Isolated bayou living could do that to a person, she was beginning to think.

Then, suddenly, Adonis seemed to wake up from a midday doze. “Yes, sir, Mr. Will. And then, and then, they make me do stuff, bad stuff.” She stopped right there, looked terrified, and then she started to cry, very softly, her face hidden inside her open palms.

Wow, just wow. But Adonis was sort of pitiful, too. Claire was beginning to feel sorry for the poor girl. After a moment, she decided that she might as well jump into the highly titillating repartee. “Is the voice a man's voice, or a woman's?”

“All kinds.”

“Do you know them? Their names?”

“Sounds like Miss Mary Lou, but she's a whisperin' and stuff. So it could be Becky or Pookie. Or the demons come back to get me.”

Novak stood straighter, impressed by Claire's expert questioning, no doubt. Could be the mention of demons roaming the neighborhood, though. Demons did not make good next-door neighbors, she suspected.

Novak said, “You talkin' about Mary Lou Picard? The lady you sell your animal carcasses to?”

Maybe demons didn't throw him as much as it did Claire. Maybe he had a soft spot for swamp demons.

Adonis was back to the nodding. Once. Up and then down. 'Nough said.

“You know this whispering girl?” Claire inquired of Novak.

“Another neighbor of mine.”

“Maybe we ought to pay her a call.”

“Maybe.” He took out his wallet and pulled out a twenty-dollar bill. “Here you go, Addie, thank you for coming outside. I know you don't feel safe comin' outside.”

The timid, little kooky gal took the money and the squirming puppy and ran back inside. Yep, she ran inside, not walked, ran, as if Novak had released her from a tether and set her free to dash about. Back in the truck, Claire stared across the front seat at Novak and waited. She really didn't know what to say. Just too explosively weird to wrap her mind around. Crazy town, swamp-style, and to be sure.

“Mary Lou lives about two miles down the road. She's owns a business in Covington. I don't think it's her buying the blood. I think Adonis is confused about that.”

Claire just stared at him, nonplussed. “So you believe her about all that crazy stuff. That whispering people come in the night and make her drain blood out of swamp critters. That what you're sayin', Novak?”

“Yep. I've heard whispering in the bushes outside my windows, too. Never could catch anybody. Just thought it was restless spirits.”

Uh-oh. Swamp living had gotten to him, too. “Does that mean you believe in ghosts and goblins?”

“I believe there are things out here in these swamps that we don't understand. This place has always had all those kinds of myths and legends and stories about evil spirits and monsters in the night.”

“Well, I'm beginning to see why. Especially after having met Adonis. You sure she isn't the one running these satanic rituals? She seems to fit the part. Not that she isn't a sweet kid and all. You know, a bit eccentric maybe, but still endearing, in a
Creature from the Black Lagoon
sorta way.” Claire grinned, teasing—sorta.

Novak paused then and just stared at the front of the girl's deserted house. Claire looked, too. Adonis was nowhere in sight. Then he sighed, heavy and tired. “She's messed up in the head because some guys broke into her house, killed her mother, and then dragged Adonis out into the swamp. They kept her out there for days, doing God only knows what to her. She was never quite right in the head after that. Always terrified out of her wits, to be truthful. I've been trying my best to help her.”

“Oh, my God, I'm sorry. I really am.” Claire looked back at the house. And yes, she felt two inches tall. Maybe even one inch tall. Poor kid. But, still, yikes. She chose her next words very carefully. “Well, that's just terrible, poor kid. But don't you think that, maybe, she might oughta be in a hospital getting some kind of therapy, or something? Isn't it dangerous to leave her way out here, you know, with her running around and killing animals and collecting blood in coffee cans? I mean, think about it, Novak. That can't be a healthy pastime for a young girl.”

“She's too frightened to go anywhere else, and nobody around here wanted to take her in, so she just stayed here in her own home. The neighbors didn't want her to go into foster care, so we all watch out for her. I bring her food and give her enough money to survive. So does Mary Lou and the others. She doesn't need much. But she's never gonna leave that house again. I don't think she can.”

Well, okay. Didn't seem like such a good solution to Claire, though, speaking from her own experience with mental patients and from hanging around with an ace psychiatrist. “Sorry. I didn't know any of that. That's very nice of you to help her that way. But, you know what, Novak? Black's a helluva good shrink. Maybe he could do a house call out here? Something like that? I know he'd find her, well . . . interesting.”

“Listen, she doesn't need to be bothered. She's just fine where she is. I just told you all this because I want you to know her backstory. Let's go pay a call on Mary Lou Picard, just to make sure she doesn't know anything that might help us. Then we'll stop at my house and look around, since you're probably already paying somebody to research everything about me anyway. Might as well show you myself because you're gonna find out about me, come hell or high water.”

So the guy was more astute than Claire figured. Harve was hard at work on Novak's dossier at that very moment, true, no doubt about it, so he was right on about her keen interest in his reticence. “Okay, good deal, let's do it. This whole day has been quite an eye-opening experience. Glad I tagged along.”

Novak said something that sounded like
hmmph
, and then he started the truck and off they went, even deeper into the deep, deep, dark bayou swamp.

 

 

 

 

 

 

While Diana just stood on the bank and watched, the two other kids pulled off their shirts and shorts and kicked off their flip-flops, and she saw that they had on swimsuits underneath their clothes. The girl's was itty bitty and barely even covered up her body. The boy's suit was long and hung down to his knees, but he didn't wear a shirt and he had lots of bulging muscles where Diana had just gotten her new breasts started. Diana watched them jump off the bank and into the water, and then they started laughing and splashing water at each other. Diana looked around to see if anyone was watching, or any gators were lurking about, but she was pretty sure nobody would come along. Sometimes the lady up the bayou came down this way fishing in her boat, but she had never seen anybody come out to this spot. It was where she came when she wanted to be alone to think about things and to get away from Bad Luna, but that was only now and then.

“C'mon, Diana, jump in!” cried the girl.

“I can't swim.”

“I'll teach you,” said the boy. “Just go ahead, jump in. It's not deep, not up there close to the bank. You can stand up on the bottom.”

Undecided at first, Diana hesitated, but that was true. Mommy had thrown her in right here once and she'd been able to wade out. Then she just did it. Jumped right in with all her clothes on. The water felt cool and good. It was hot today, and she was all sweaty. She wondered what they'd think if they knew she was a Wiccan and her mother was a Disciple of the Devil and knew Satan personally and bled Frankie and burned up his body. She didn't think they'd like any of that very much. Probably wouldn't want to be her friends, either. Then she wondered what regular people did when the moon was full.

She had never ventured very far out into the water. She was scared of meeting up with those gators. When she reached the boy, he suddenly grabbed her, swooped her up in his arms, and spun around with her, as if she weighed nothing. The water surged out away from them in waves, and she laughed some at how it felt. He seemed very strong and more than capable of holding her up. She decided that she liked the way his arms felt. He was really cute. Kinda like the boys she saw in some of Luna's magazines.

“C'mon, now, Diana, you gotta relax. C'mon, just relax. You're all tense and stuff. Can't learn to swim if you're that uptight. Just go limp. I'm not gonna hurt you.”

Trying to do that, she let him turn her over until she was facing down into the water. He had her around the waist and was moving her through the water like a boat and making her skirt float up all around her legs. He was very strong, stronger than anyone she'd ever met, stronger than Luna, even when she went crazy. “Go ahead, kick your feet, and move your arms like I was doing a minute ago.”

So she tried to do what he said and was about to get the hang of it, when he suddenly had his hand up under her dress and was feeling around between her legs. She struggled to get loose at first, but then he whispered in her ear. “Don't fight me. It'll feel good. I promise. You'll like it. Everybody likes it. You'll see.”

The other girl wasn't watching them. She was wading out of the water. “C'mon, guys, let's smoke some weed and get out the beer.”

“In a sec,” he called out to her, but he kept on smiling at Diana. “You sure are a soft little piece of work,” he muttered, his fingers still feeling her. She was beginning to feel pretty good down there, too, just like he said she would, but she wasn't sure why.

“You shouldn't be doin' that. Why are you doin' that?”

“You're pretty damn innocent, aren't you? I bet you're still a virgin.”

“What's a virgin?”

“Whoa, man.” He laughed softly to himself. “You really are an innocent little thing, aren't you? I think I like innocent ones better than I thought I would.”

“Would you hurry it up and get out, guys! What are you doin' out there, anyway?”