The Uninvited (26 page)

“Were you bitten, son?” Dr. Whitson asked.

“Bitten? No, sir, I wasn't bitten. Those bastards didn't have enough time to bite me. I took one look and hauled it out of that place. Came here. Vic said he was comin' over here. Vic?” He looked at the sheriff. “You made a decision?”

“Yes. We're sealing off the Parish. You with me?”

Slick said, “I ought to punch you in the mouth for even askin' that, Vic.”

Sheriff Ransonet smiled. He knew all his men would stay. He turned to Dr. Whitson. “Sir, I don't know how many government contacts you still have. You used to be a top man in D.C. But you call somebody high up. You tell them to seal off these Parishes. I'm steppin' way out of line, now, speaking for Mike. But sealing off just this one won't help. It's all or nothing time.”

“Back in my day, son, we called it root hog, or die.”

“I heard that, Doc,” Vic smiled.

“Will the President do?”

You know him?” Slick blurted.

“For about thirty years.” He shifted his gaze to Sheriff Ransonet. “You're sure, son?”

“Call him!” Vic ordered.

“Yes, sir.” Dr. Whitson gave one of the sloppiest salutes any man in the room had ever seen.

 

 

Vic tried to reach Sheriff Grant on the phone. The phone was out of order. He used his car radio. “Mike? Switch to the tach frequency.” He brought him up to date. “You gotta close off that bridge, Mike. Seal it up tight.”

“I don't take orders from you, Vic. The people of Baronne elected me. That bridge is our only way out. Our only link to safety. It stays open. I'm ordering a full scale evacuation of this Parish.”

“Mike, don't do this to me. You haven't seen what I've seen. Right now, Dr. Whitson is being patched through to the President of the United States. That's how serious it is, man.

“I'll evac the hospital, Vic. Then the kids. Then we'll talk about your plan.”

“Mike? Mike, don't do this. The bugs don't just bite adults—they bite kids, too. We don't know who has been infected. For the love of God, don't do this. We can't just think of ourselves at a time like this. Jesus Christ, this could infect the whole world!”

No way, Vic,” the voice cracked back at him.
I'll evac first, then I'll get back to you.”

You ignorant redneck!” Vic yelled at him. “You son of a bitch!” Then he spent a full minute cussing him in Cajun French.

Slick let him get it all out of his system, then said, “Let's call up the Sheriff in Ballard Parish, Vic. We don't have to tell him much. Just tell him we got a health problem down here affecting the two-Parish area. Tell him not to pay any attention to Sheriff Grant, 'cause Mike went off his nut, or something. Hell, we can get half a dozen doctors out here to lie that much for us. The Ballard Parish Sheriff can block the bridge from his side.”

Vic had calmed down. He nodded his head in agreement. “We'll get Rollie to call his commander. Captain Evans is a level-headed man. But there is still the problem of the river. There are lots of boats in this Parish and Baronne.”

“Let's do all we can inside this Parish, Vic. That's all we can do.” He put a hand on Vic's shoulder. “Those bugs I saw in the office. They must have got everybody in there. Including Luther.”

Yeah.” Vic's reply was no more than a whisper. “I got a confession to make, Slick.”

Do I look like a priest?” He grinned.

His friend returned the grin. “I sent Carol over to her sister's in Thibodaux. I guess that doesn't make me a very big man, does it?”

Slick laughed. “Hell, Vic. I sent Linda up to her momma's in Tallulah this morning. I guess we both wear the same size shoes.”

 

 

Vic drove into town, to the Bonne Terre Police Department, informing the Chief he was taking over his department, his staff, and all his equipment.

“What!” Chief Lewis thundered. “You can't do that! It ain't constitutional . . . or something. The people of Bonne Terre elected me. I give the orders inside the city limits of this town—not you!”

In one very succinct moment, in an explosion of sentences, hardly taking time to breathe, Vic told the Chief exactly what was happening, leaving nothing out. He told him furthermore that if the Chief attempted to prevent him from taking over, the Chief could rest his ass in a cell for the duration. With the bugs.

“Holy shit!” Chief Lewis said.

“I know,” Sheriff Ransonet said, “that every man I've got will stand. If you've got any weak-knees in your department, tell 'em to haul ass now! We can't get to a critical point and have them fold up.”

“I got two of those,” Chief Lewis said.
For sure.

“Get rid of them. Pull all your people in. Tell them what you think they need to know. It's going to be a long night, Carl. We might not get three hours sleep this whole weekend.”

Well.” The Chief grinned. “My boys just picked up a dude yesterday with a thousand hits of speed on him. Maybe we can put it to some use other than getting high?”

Vic slapped him on the shoulder. “Save some for me and my boys, Carl.” He looked at Slick. “Let's get back to the clinic.”

 

 

“I've spoken with the President, our Senators and Representatives,” Dr. Whitson said. “President Hospon knows I don't make jokes about things of this nature. He is sending people in now. He told me he was airlifting in the 82nd Airborne Division from Fort Bragg. The first contingents of that unit should be in place in a matter of hours.”

“And when they get here,” Dr. Ashley said. “We will be . . . ?” He allowed his question to trail into silence.

“Sealed off,” Dr. Whitson finished it.

 

 

“Pukey Bradford just got in touch with me,” Sheriff Grant shouted at Vic, rattling the speaker in Vic's car. “You son of a bitch! The President had just been in contact with him, bringing him up to date. He's got armor rolling in from Fort Polk. Whatever your Dr. Whitson said must have really shook the President. That bridge is sealed off by National Guard troops. You bastard! Who gave you the right to play God with my people?”