A Crying Shame (127 page)

The German smiled, his gaze touching Dr. Lewis. Both men smiled, Lewis saying,
Will shotguns be quite sufficient, Jon?”

No.” His reply was terse.
You both know better. I issued you sidearms; where are they?” Both scientists shrugged; each wore a sheepish look.
Get them,” Jon said.
And bear in mind what a scratch or a bite from an infected Link will do to your brains.”

That was more than enough to brand the arms rule into the minds of the scientists. They carefully chose rifles from the well-stocked gun cabinet. Jon knew they both were expert shots and, unlike most men in their field, would not hesitate to shoot if they felt their lives—or the life of a friend—were endangered.

Sheriff Saucier walked to the door.
I have some ... heavy thinking to do. I have twelve thousand reasons to do some soul-searching. Before he returned to Baton Rouge, Governor Parker ordered me to sit on this ... situation. Give Jon a chance to clean it up—if he could. But I agree with Jon; it's too late for any one man to do much. I may be wrong, though.

I think Joe is going to gather up a bunch of good ol' boys and really muddy up the waters; they'll stir up the Links, and probably get some people killed. Maybe a lot of people. That's a big swamp out there. Thousands and thousands of acres. And I don't give a good goddamn what the state boys say; I believe there are parts of that swamp that have never been fully explored.”

 

The sheriff was right. There are some geologists who believe that the earthquakes of 1811-1812, which created Reelfoot Lake in west Tennessee, destroyed the town of New Madrid, Missouri, and caused the mighty Mississippi River to run backward for a time, also created a small lake in north Louisiana, near Tallulah. Some even go so far as to speculate that the same massive quake also created many deep caves in north and central Louisiana. Very deep caves.

They are correct in that assumption.

Almost directly in the center of the Crying Swamp there is an island, about a quarter of a mile wide, one mile long. It is a very peculiar piece of land, this island, this high ground, almost as if it had been belched up from the bowels of the inner earth, thrust forcibly upward.

That is exactly what happened.

Before the quakes of 1811-1812, the Links really had no fear of man; they were stronger, adapted to the swamps, and could and would avoid humans whenever possible. Which was always. Many people, white and Indian, have come within inches of Links ... and never known they were being watched.

That is true to this day.

But shortly after the great quake in Missouri and Tennessee, which was felt in several states, including Louisiana, settlers began moving into the areas around the great swamp, and the Links felt the island to be their safest haven. In a short time they discovered the caves beneath the island, and there they went when humans drew too near.

The caverns were dank, dark, and odious—but safe for the Links. Some of the caverns ran for miles under the swamp, gently angling downward, then upward; some dead-ending, a few with exits. It was at the spot where the deepest cave leveled before turning upward toward the exit hole that the Links placed their dead. For a hundred and seventy years their dead had been placed there, the skulls showing the evolutionary change in the bone structure of their faces, as generations marched on. The skulls grinned, shining whitely in the near darkness, amid the hair and rotting flesh.

And the snakes. And the rats. And the bats.

For years, only the clan leaders of the Links knew of the main cavern, but with the fast approach of man, who destroyed everything he touched under the name of progress, all the Links soon learned of the last refuge of safety.

The sex-starved, maddened young males knew of it, too, and knew of the escape routes under the swamp, leading not only to Fountain Parish, but to the surrounding parishes, as well.

Several fishermen over the years, when they had approached too closely to the hidden entrances and exits, had just disappeared. Their boats had been found floating upside down, miles from the actual site of their disappearances. Many a fisherman roared through the edges of the swamp in an expensive bass rig, screwing up the vegetation, destroying the delicate flowers, and forever upsetting the balance of nature by spewing gas and oil into the waters, and tossing beer cans and pop bottles into the swamp.

After the Links had learned to recognize the boats and the routes and the favorite fishing spots (honey holes), several fishermen had had trees or branches fall on them. Terrible accident, you know.

Many ecologists would loudly applaud the actions of the Links.

 

As Sheriff Saucier was pulling out, driving alone through the hot darkness, Linda said,
It's curious, you know?”

What?” Jon looked at her.

Mike Saucier. He's always alone. Knowing all the danger around him, you'd think he'd have a deputy riding with him. He's ordered his men to double up. It's almost as if he knows he won't be harmed by the Links.” She looked into Jon's eyes.
Have you ever thought of that?”