A Crying Shame (141 page)

Yes. I am certain of that, at least. The rapist's seed. Has to be; your blood is normal.”

Somehow he found out.”

Ja
. I cannot imagine how he felt knowing he could not—or should not—marry and produce offspring.” He rose from his chair, a bear of a man. He sighed.
Perhaps Jon is right; perhaps all the Links should die. I will not presume to push my moral beliefs on him.” He smiled. ”You run along, dear. Tell Jon the good news. You two may have many healthy, normal babies.”

She blushed.

It did not take long for the press to conclude that something big was happening, had happened, or was about to happen in Fountain Parish. They descended upon the area like a plague of locusts, pushing, shoving, jockeying for position, asking a never-ending stream of questions, many of them making perfect nuisances of themselves in their quest for sensationalism.

But Colonel Jeansonne had shut the area down tight, and his troopers were not talking to the press. No one was allowed inside Fountain Parish. But as soon as the first carload of frightened and panicked residents of Fountain crossed the Fain River Bridge, the press fell upon them like carrion after a meal.

The press listened and grew quiet. Several tittered, but as they listened, the snickering tapered off into a hush. They allowed the motorists to continue on to a motel. The press interviewed several more, then spoke with a busload of people from a home for the elderly. Included in the group were several medical personnel. They corroborated the original report.

The press raced off to file their stories.

MONSTERS, the headlines blared across the nation. MISSING LINK FOUND IN LOUISIANA.

And way down in south Louisiana, a Cajun punched his buddy in the ribs and quipped,
Hell, Rufus, dey come see me I could ‘ave tole them 'bout ma Uncle Odey. He been missin' a link of sumthang for years.”

Colonel Jeansonne had sent in teams of troopers to assist Sheriff Saucier in the evacuation of Fountain Parish. But they all knew, as the deadline approached, that they would never to able to reach all the people in the parish. Some would be fishing, swimming, sunbathing; others would be working in their gardens or on their lawns, and would not hear the loudspeakers or answer their phones. But the men had to try.

By mid-afternoon the swamp was once more silent and foreboding, as if time had not touched it, as it must have been five thousand years before the first upright man looked at its primitive beauty. In the deepest parts of the swamp, bodies—and pieces of bodies—littered the waters, floating among the lilies and the hyacinths. Occasionally there would be a great thrashing as a 'gator or gar struck from below the water, pulling a floating carcass under—to dine.

A man whose rifle had accidentally discharged, shooting him in the foot, had been taken back to Laclede by two other men. The trio was completely unaware of the disaster that had befallen their comrades. They were caught up in the evacuation and hustled out of the parish. The state police didn't seem to be all that interested in their story about Joe's Christian crusade, or about the sixty-odd men still in the swamp.

Who gave them authorization to take the law into their own hands?” Captain Sundra asked.

The men were silent.

Get them out of here,” Sundra said.
And keep them away from the press. That's all we need at a time like this: rumors about a massacre.”

We heard a lot of shooting,” one crusader insisted.

And a lot of screaming.”

What's this about shooting and screaming?” a reporter asked, walking up to the men.

Oh, shit!” Sundra said.

 

Doug Cooper's scream echoed over the deep swamp. He fought the clawed hands that dragged him toward the pit.

Joe Ratliff stood before the leader of the Links, the eldest of all Links. His face was impassive as he listened to Doug's begging. The Links had used this pit for over a hundred and fifty years. Not often, for they were not a vicious race—not until the madness struck the young males. But occasionally they would have to punish one of their own, and if the punishment warranted death, this was how it was inflicted.

Doug's screaming intensified. The man was crying and begging for his life.

The elder, the possessor of strange blue eyes and human features signaled to Joe. Joe understood the grunts and gestures.

Are you not ashamed of what you and your cousin have done—tried to do to us?”

No,” Joe replied in a grunting tongue, using hand gestures to punctuate the grunts.

Why?” The Link cocked his head to one side, confusion in his eyes.

Because you and the others like you are evil.”

Evil? That word is unfamiliar to me.”