A Crying Shame (162 page)

. . . and the swamp,” the newscaster was saying, ”known as the Crying Swamp, is now being completely encircled by troops from Fort Polk, Louisiana. No one except high-placed officials will be allowed into Fountain Parish. We'll have more on the discovery of the missing link after this word.”

Jon turned off the radio. His bowels were in perfectly good working order and he did not wish to hear about a product that relieved plugged plumbing.

All along the road, at one-mile intervals, National Guardsmen and reserve troops were stationed, armed with M-16s. They made no move to stop him or prevent his traveling, merely looked at him curiously.

Finally Jon pulled over at one checkpoint.
Why are you men all facing the swamp?” he asked.

So we can see if one of the monsters comes out, sir,” the guardsman replied. His eyes flicked to the deputy's badge Jon had pinned on his shirt before leaving the house.

I see,” Jon said slowly.
But they have also been known to come up
behind
their victims. Have you given that any thought?”

No, sir.”

I suggest you do, Corporal.”

Yes, sir. Sir? I seen that monster that was killed last night. I mean, I seen a picture of it. Reckon how many of them things is in the swamp?”

Jon gazed at the young man, wondering how many of these inexperienced troops would get themselves shot before this was over.
A goodly number, son,” he replied.
Watch your backs.”

Yes, sir.”

Jon drove on toward Laclede.

Sheriff Saucier waved him to a halt on the outskirts of town.
The parish is clean,” he said.
But I think it was a stupid move.”