Cat's Cradle (17 page)

“I’ve been trying to tell people that stuff like this goes on,” Mille said. “Nobody wants to believe me.”

“It doesn’t go on very often, Mille,” Dan said. “And we’re all trying to end the abuse of power. I may have found a way. I’ll know in a couple of days.”

“Sheriff, go public with it,” she urged. “It’s simple.”

“I can’t do that, Mille. Not yet.”

She opened her mouth to protest and Kenny said, “Shut up, Mille. It fits. It’s beginning to jell. I’m thinking about that deal we stumbled into about five years ago. We were just out of college—you remember?” She nodded. “What was the name we uncovered? Yeah. Code Blue, I think. Something like that.”

She looked at Dan. He said, “Same bunch, Mille. Different name.”

“Monsters, Sheriff?” she questioned.

“That’s the only word I can think of for what we’ve all seen.”

Mille stood up. “We’re going to prowl some, Sheriff. If we discover anything-anything at all—we’ll call you. That’s a promise.”

“I would appreciate it, Ms. Smith.”

“Mille,” she said with a smile.

“Mille,” Dan said with a smile. And a very uneasy alliance was formed.

Chuck, looking at Kenny, still looked very dubious about the entire matter.

Kenny, looking at Chuck, wondered how anyone could look so . . .
straight
?

* * *

The teenagers strolled through the woods not far from the truck terminal. A tiny creek lay to their left. Two boys, two girls. The boys were seniors in high school, the girls juniors. None of them believed any of the stories being whispered around town. All that barf about monsters. Everybody knew that cops were stupid; they probably made up all that garbage ’cause they were so dumb they couldn’t catch the real killers. All the kids were having a big laugh about it.

The four kids shared a very vulgar vocalizing about what Denise and Reynolds might be doing, together, at that very moment.

Who would have thought it? Been lots of jokes about that, too.

“Reckon how long she’s been giving it to him?” one wondered aloud.

They all laughed.

The young people had not noticed the flitting shadows that seemed to be trailing them as they ambled along. The small quick shadows were all around them. In front, in back, on both sides.

And more were gathering, gradually tightening the loose circle around the strolling quartet.

The kids were having a good time, enjoying their unexpected break from school. Their parents didn’t believe there were any monsters about the county. So, heck, let the kids wander a bit. Nothing’s going to happen.

Uh-huh.

Had the kids been a bit more observant, they might have noticed the flitting shapes following them, pacing them, gathering numbers. But that would have only heightened their fear, lengthening the fear period. There was no escape for the teenagers.

No one really knows the cat population in America. Some conservative guesses put it in the millions.

“I heard we’re not even going to have finals this year,” one of the girls said. “Really!”

“Boy, that’d be great.”

“No, I’m serious. They’re just going to average out our grades and that’ll be that.”

“Failed again,” a boy said glumly.

Young laughter in the woods and rolling hills. Very soon it would be stilled. Forever.

They walked further away from the fence line. One of the boys thought he heard a faint bubbling sound, accompanied by a very foul odor. The wind changed. The bubbling sound and putrid odor faded.

“That’s not what I heard,” he said. “I heard when the killers-the
monsters
!—are caught, back to school we go.”

“Great,” a girl said, “there goes my summer job.”

“Aw, maybe not. Depends on when they catch the guys who done it.”

“I thought it was monsters?”

More young laughter.

The older of the boys stopped, holding up his hand for the others to stop.

“What’s wrong?”

He shook his head. “I don’t know. Weird. Listen. I don’t hear nothing.”

“Hear what? There isn’t anything to hear.”

“That’s what I mean. There’s nothing. A few minutes ago, all the birds were singing. Now it’s just ... it’s just dead quiet.”

“So what?” a girl demanded. “Just means we scared them off, is all. Right?” She looked around her as something caught her eye. Something was moving through the trees. Then the movement stopped. “Something is kinda weird around here,” she said.

“Year,” the boy said. “That’s what I mean.” He looked around him. He saw the cats, sitting patiently, motionlessly, watching them. Fear touched the boy, lightly at first; why be afraid of a cat? Ten cats. Jesus Christ, he thought, his eyes shifting rapidly. There must be three or four hundred cats. Never seen so many cats. What are they doing? What do they want?

The cats began swishing their tails, looking at each other, as if seeking some silent signal.

To do what? the boy thought.

“Good Lord! ” a girl said, pointing. “Look at all the cats.”

The kids stood in silence, looking at the silent cats, looking at them.

“Aww,” the second girl said. “That’s Nanny.” She pointed. “That’s my neighbor’s cat.” She knelt down. “Come here, Nanny,” she called. “Come on, Nanny. Here, kitty, kitty, kitty.”

The big house cat slowly and majestically rose to all four paws. It blinked at the sound of the voice. It stretched, arching its back. It padded softly to the girl, never taking its eyes from her face.

The cat’s tongue flicked in and out.

“You see!” the girl said. “You guys are all chicken. Come on, Nanny.”

The cat drew closer.

“Hi, Nanny!”

Nanny leaped, snarling and spitting and howling. Its sharp teeth bit all the way through the girl’s lower lip. Blood spurted. The other cats began moving, hissing and howling and running toward the kids. Nanny’s claws were flashing. One paw, claws extended, caught the girl in the eye, ripping the eyeball from the socket. The girl screamed and rolled on the ground.

The scent of fear and blood filled the warm air. The cats, hundreds of them, moved as one being, the blood-scent arousing them, flinging them back in time, back to when they were pets of no human, masters of all their territory, feared hunters.

The cats leaped on the teenagers, claws and teeth ripping and tearing. Some covered the head, quick claws tearing great, long strips of meat from the face.

The first girl to be attacked, now with both eyes torn from her face, rolled and screamed in agony on the ground. One of the boys ran to help her. Fifty cats rode him to the ground, their teeth and claws ripping and shredding the warm human flesh. While some tore at the meat, others lapped at the salty blood springing forth.

One of the young men was in the last trembling throes of death, his legs jerking as life left him, the cats tearing at his throat.

One girl, shock releasing her from her frozen fear, tried to run from the savage attack. Too frightened to scream her horror at the bloody and unexpected assault, she wheeled and ran. But the cats soon brought her down, kicking and wailing, the girl finally finding her voice. The short chase only heightened the cats’ delight and appetite. What fun is prey without a chase? Boring. This was fun. This was the way it used to be, that thought was in the felines’ minds. This is the way it will continue to be. For it had been promised them.

The screaming stopped. Young life was over. The cats slopped through the gore and blood, licking their chops, stretching, then bending their heads to dine again. Like a chicken-killing dog; a coyote who brings down a family pet; a bear who savored his first taste of human flesh, these cats would never again be content with food from a sack or can. They had now tasted the warm flavor of fresh human meat and blood.

They were once more hunters. They were once more feared and respected. The way had been shown to them.

And all over the country, the packs were forming.

“We might have a small problem, Sheriff,” Lou’s voice came down the line, into Dan’s ear.

“Now what?” Dan asked, waving for Taylor to pick up the extension. The trooper did, very carefully. He nodded at Dan.

“The Moore girl is gone.”

“Gone? Would you mind explaining that, Lou?”

“Yeah. Gone. Like in she ain’t here.”

Sheriff and trooper exchanged looks. “Well, what the hell did you people do with her?”

“Well, Sheriff, we didn’t do anything with her. We, ah, kind of think—” He sighed. “—that she might have walked out of here.”

Taylor sat down heavily at that news. His eyes expressed his shock.

Dan said, “Lou, Denise is
dead
!”

“No, she ain’t, Sheriff. She’s just like the mummy-man, alive.”

Captain Taylor crossed himself.

“Lamotta? . . .”

Lou’s voice hardened. “Don’t start with your civic speech, Sheriff. Now more than ever we have to keep a lid on this thing. You and your boys find her, Sheriff. My people are spread too thin as it is. You find her, Sheriff. Just do it. And keep your mouth shut about it.”

He hung up.

“Spread too thin,” Dan said. Before he could give that any further mental working, he glanced at Taylor. The man’s face was pale. Not from fear, Dan knew, but from shock. He didn’t think the captain was afraid of anything.

Taylor said, “Dan, how do you kill something that is ... that is already dead?”

Dan shook his head. “Dead people don’t come back to life through any . . . scientific means.”

Taylor looked puzzled for a moment. “What are you saying, Dan?”

“You remember when we talked about seeing a priest?”

“Yes.”

“Maybe it’s time for us to include the religious community in this.”

* * *

“This is the ickiest place I have ever seen,” Alice complained. Cockleburrs had gathered on her jeans legs, a branch had just popped back and swatted her across the face, she had chiggers working at her ankles, and she could swear she was covered with fleas.

Alice just was not the outdoorsy type.

She had packed enough gear to go on an extended safari. In a rucksack, she carried half a dozen sandwiches—with the crust trimmed, of course—a bottle of water, suntan lotion, insect repellent, a book describing poisonous plants and poisonous snakes indigenous to Virginia, a small portable radio, an address book, her binoculars, a small first-aid kit, a flashlight, extra batteries, pad and pencil, extra socks, and various other articles she felt might be useful when wandering about the wilderness. Including a roll of toilet paper. Scented, of course.

As it would turn out, Alice had planned well, even though the women were a few miles outside of Valentine and about fifteen hundred feet off the main highway.

Emily carried only a .22 caliber automatic pistol in a holster, and two extra clips for the weapon.

“Do you really know how to shoot that thing?” Alice asked.

“You bet your butt I do,” Emily replied.

Alice suppressed a giggle. It was such fun being naughty.

The women walked deeper into the timber. They would occasionally catch a glimpse of the chain link fence surrounding the terminal grounds. They could see, in many places, where the old fence had been repaired. Warning signs gleamed brightly on the fence every hundred yards or so. They followed the timberline for a few moments, losing sight of the fence.

Alice stopped, looking around her. “Oh, Lord!” she wailed. “We’re
lost
!”

“Oh, hell, Alice,” Emily said, pointing. “The power lines are right there. They were to our right coming in here. Just keep that in mind.”

“Emily, you are so ... so
woodsy
.”

Emily didn’t quite know how to take that. “Alice, weren’t you ever in the Girl Scouts?”

Alice looked horrified. “Heavens, no!”

“Stupid question,” Emily muttered. “Figures.”

“I was in the dance.” Pronounced daunce.

“That’s good, Alice. Great.”

“What activities did you engage in as a child, Emily?”

Emily hid a grin. “Well, down on the farm we used to get a kick out of watching the bulls do it to the cows.”

Alice was silent for an unusually long time.

“We had rabbits, too,” Emily said.

“That’s . . . nice.”

Then, a long forgotten but somehow familiar odor drifted to Emily. She held up a hand. “Hold up, Alice. You smell that?”

Alice sniffed daintily. She held a hanky to her nose. “Yukk! What is that?”

“Blood, Alice. Lots of blood.” Emily had worked too many accidents not to know that smell. “Come on.”

Alice pulled back. “Where are we going, dear?”

“To see what is causing that smell.”

“You go, dear. I’ll just rest here for a moment.”

“There are bears in these woods.”

Alice could move very swiftly when she set her mind to it. “I’m ready whenever you are, Emily.” She looked around her for grizzlies.

“I thought that might move you. Turn
loose
of me, Alice.”

The women made their way slowly through the brush, the odor becoming stronger. Death, Emily thought. Human death. The human body emits an odor all its own at violent death.

Something felt squishy under Emily’s tennis shoe. She looked down.

She was standing on a length of human intestine.

She lifted her eyes and saw the carnage that lay before them. Half eaten bodies, the stomach cavity all chewed out, the faces gone, exposing the whiteness of skull. Yards of intestines. Hearts and lungs and livers lay all around them. And the ground was slick with blood.

Emily heard a thump behind her. She didn’t have to look; she knew what it was. She looked anyway. Alice had hit the ground.

With the toe of her tennis shoe, Emily prodded Alice’s buttocks. They tightened. An unconscious person’s buttocks will remain loose.

“Come on, Alice. You can get up. I know you’re only faking it.”

Alice opened her eyes. “My mother always told me that in cases of great stress, a lady should promptly faint.”

“Your mother was full of prunes. Get up.”

Alice groaned, closing her eyes.

“Whoever did this might still be around.”

Once again, Alice exhibited an almost Olympian ability to recover from great adversity. On her feet, she stared at the carnage. Turning her head, she upchucked. Emily didn’t blame her a bit. Alice pointed at the remains of one girl. “I know ... I think ... that one is ... was ... Carla Andrews.”

But Emily was paying little attention. There was nothing that could be done for the kids. Except body-bagging. She had detected some slight movement in the woods around them. She pulled her pistol from leather and jacked a round into the chamber, locking the full cock.

Alice watched her. “What’s wrong? I mean, other than the obvious.” She swallowed hard.

“Back toward the fence, Alice. Move slowly. Don’t panic and run.
Don’t run
.”

Alice then noticed the movement. The movement became solid shapes. Cats. What looked like hundreds of cats.

“Cats?” Alice questioned softly.

“Yeah, Alice. Cats.”

“But? . . .”

“Move, Alice. Keep your eyes straight ahead.” The cats were circling the women. A multi-colored moving, living mass, slowly tightening the circle. Emily had never liked cats; didn’t trust them. Never had. Cats were cruel and she knew it. “Don’t look back, Alice.”

Alice, of course, promptly stopped and turned around. “Oh! Yes, I see. Look at all the kitties. Aren’t they precious?”

“No, they’re not. Move, Alice.”

“But Emily. Why? ... Where did all the cats come from?”

“Hell, Alice. I don’t know. Maybe they’re having a convention. Keep moving. Change directions right now. Turn right.”

“But you
told
me to walk toward the fence, Emily!”

“We can’t go that way now. The cats are blocking our way.”

“Oh, for heavens sake, Emily. They are not.”

“Alice, don’t argue with me!” Emily had seen the cats tightening the loose circle. The women’s only chance was to head into the woods.

Alice immediately began flapping her arms at the cats. “Shoo, kitty! Shoo, now! ” She looked at Emily. “Emily, why aren’t they moving?”

The cats sat on the ground and stared at the women, motionless, unblinking. Cruel-looking.

“Alice, you wanna knock it off? Goddamnit, don’t get them upset.”

“What is the matter with you, Emily? My word, they’re just cats!”

“Yeah, sure. Alice, look at the light-colored one. No, don’t stop walking. Just look at it. What do you see?”

She looked. Blinked. Her face paled. “Why . . . I . . .” She almost fainted-remembered. “They’re covered with blood. All of them are covered with blood. Do you think that the cats? ...”

“Keep walking. Yeah, Alice. I think the cats attacked the ... those people.”

“But why? Why would they do such a thing? Emily, do you think this might have something to do with the strange behavior of Quinn and Bill?”

“That’s what I’m thinking, Emily. Among other things, that is.”

The cats began steadily pacing the women as they walked, always staying about a hundred feet from them. But following them, their eyes unblinking and savage-looking. There were cats of all descriptions, from pedigree to alley cat. Big cats, little cats, large cats. They followed the women silently.

When the cats had failed to attack, Alice said, “Emily, this is ridiculous. There is no reason for house cats to attack people. Right?”

“Right, Alice. Keep walking.”

“Then why would they turn on people?”

“Keep walking. Don’t stop. Alice, I don’t feel like riddles. I don’t know why. But they did. And they look like they’re still hungry.”

Alice moved a bit faster.

“Slow down, Alice. Angle a little bit more this way. Alice? Look around. See which way I’m pointing. That way. You see that old house over there? Let’s head for it.”

“Oh, Emily! That isn’t a house.”

“Well, what the hell do you call it?”

“That’s a run down shack. And it’s all falling in.”

“Alice, I don’t care—we have no choice. I can’t shoot four or five hundred cats. Now, move!”

The women began walking faster, angling off. The cats sensed the urgency in the women’s steps, and the changing direction. They picked up speed, pulling closer to the women. The women began running, a fright scent drifting to the pursuing felines. The scent enraged them, filling them with a primitive emotion that lies just beneath the surface of any cat or hunter-dog: the german shepherd, the husky, the chow, the doberman.

“They’re getting closer, Emily!”

“Yeah, I know,” Emily panted. “Just keep going, Alice.

The cats began yowling and snarling as they ran, closing the distance rapidly. One leaped on the rotting old porch just a step behind the women. Emily whirled around and shot the cat through the body, killing it.

The gunshot was familiar to the animals. En masse, they stopped for a moment. That was all the time the women needed. They rushed into the old shack, both of them looking wildly around them for a place, any place, to hide.

“There aren’t any windows in this old shack!” Alice yelled, just a step away from hysteria.

“Hang on, Alice!” Emily yelled. “We’ll make it.”

She shoved the woman into a closet, stepping in behind her and slamming the door.

Cats filled the small shack. They crawled on the roof, covering it with small bodies. They yowled and howled and screeched their rage at their escaping prey. They flung themselves against the closed closet door, claws ripping at the old wood. One stuck its paw under the door, between the door and the floor, the paw searching for flesh. Alice lifted her foot and stomped the paw with the sole of her tennis shoe. The cat screamed in pain.

The din in and around and on top of the old shack was tremendous.

The women sank to the dusty, rat-droppings-littered floor, scared and exhausted.

“Emily? ”

“Yes, Alice?”

“What are we going to do?”

“I don’t know. We’ll think of something.”

* * *

Carrie shook her head, stopping her friend’s repeated questions. “I can’t tell you any more than that, Linda. Daddy will explain it all when he gets home. He said he would. Okay?”

“It’s got something to do with all that monster talk around town, doesn’t it?”

Carrie nodded.

“Wow! This is exciting.” She leaned closer to her friend. “And just think—having two college men to protect us, too.”

Carrie looked at her brother and at Mike. “College men? If you say so, Linda.”

“I think Mike’s cute.”

Carrie sighed. Mike was like a brother to her. And brothers are okay, but not cute. At least not until Carrie had a couple more years on her. If she lived that long. If anyone in the Garrett household lived through the next few days. And nights.

“Come on, Carrie,” Linda urged. “At least tell me a little more about what’s going on.”

But Carrie knew better than to disobey her dad. She shook her head and remained mum on the subject. “Wait until Dad gets home. I told you.”

“All right. Big secrets. Oh! I meant to ask you. Is your cat still around here?”

Mike and Carl listened to the girl’s chatter more attentively with that question.

“Huh? Oh ... sure. I mean, I guess. She’s around someplace. She’s a weird cat. Doesn’t like to come inside. She’s out around the shed, I suppose. No, wait a sec. Come to think of it, I haven’t seen her in a couple of days. Why do you ask?”

“Well, it’s probably nothing, but all the cats in our neighborhood have disappeared. Including our Nanny. They just . . . well, went away. Isn’t that weird?”