The old man opened his eyes, trying to make out the shapes standing by his bed. He could hear the sounds of his wife's breathing beside him. The man hoped she would not wake up and have to see what faced them out of the night. Was he awake? Marie Fowler, Dan Golden, and Jerry Jackson stood at the foot of the bed. Marie was still wearing her blood-stained sheet, circles of dried blood denoting where her breasts had been. The paramedics were dressed in hospital garb. The three were grinning at him, their grins a terrible sight in the darkness of the bedroom.
'You are old,' Marie spoke to the man. 'You have lived your time and more.' Her words were hollow sounding, as if coming from far away. 'But we are prepared to give you eternal life.'
'I'm dreamin',' the retired farmer said.
'You are not dreaming,' Dan said.
'I knew I shouldn't 'ave watched 'at 'oddamn movie 'ast night,' the old man said. His teeth were in a glass by the bed, the words coming out slurred. 'I 'new 'at sum-bitch would gimmie nightmares.'
'He is a fool,' Jerry said.
'Then we shall send them both to the pits,' Marie said.
She stepped around the old four-poster bed and put a hand on the old man's chest. He tried to rise but found he could not. It was then, while he experienced the supernatural strength of the mangled woman and the coldness of her hand, that he knew it was not a dream. This was real.
He opened his toothless mouth to scream.
The bloodied woman covered his lips with hers. Her breath was foul, stinking of death. She gnawed at his mouth, sucking the blood that began to flow. Then he felt lances of pain in his mouth. The woman was eating his tongue. His mouth filled with blood. Beside him, his wife of fifty years thrashed on the bed as the paramedics sucked at her neck, pulled life from her.
Marie tore open the man's neck, lapping at the blood that erupted in fountains from the wounds. The old woman had ceased her strugglings. Only the twitching of her hands signaled that within her a spark of life remained. Soon that was gone.
The trio dragged the old man and his wife from the blood-soaked sheets, dragging them out the back door. In the darkness low growls greeted them.
The bodies were dumped on the ground. The two men and the woman lurched and faded into the night. The Beasts lumbered forward, red-rimmed eyes hot in the night.
They feasted.
Janet Sakall heard the car doors slam. Lying on the couch in the den, she smiled. Janet had no fear of Sunday. Very few in this coven did.
Janet heard the storm door open. She hid her smile. All was ready in her dark world.
For Sam Balon, a young man whose faith had been tested to the limits and had stood firm against the evil; a young man who had spoken with and fought alongside the mightiest of God's warriors ... his faith was again to be tested. As was his wife, Nydia. The town of Logandale was set to erupt like pus from a large boil, spewing its corruption over all who came near.
Sam stepped into the room.
'Hi, Sam,' Janet said, smiling sweetly.
BOOK TWO
—Poe
ONE
'You lookin' a sight better,' Joe said to his wife. 'How you feelin'?'
'I feel better than I have in months, Joe,' she replied with a smile.
Something about his wife had changed. Joe recalled the words he'd heard back at the chiefs house: 'Trust no one. Be suspicious of everyone. But don't be overt with your suspicions. Let them think everything is all right. We're outnumbered.'
But Nellie? Joe couldn't believe she would be a part of such horror.
Joe tried to pretend that nothing about her had changed. But it was no good. She had changed. When he'd left the house, she had been pale and listless, her hair containing no body or life. Now, just a few hours later, Nellie appeared to be a new person. Eyes shining with health, color to her face. And what was that smell? Smelled like … Jesus! It was the odor of sulphur.
Joe sighed. Was any of this true? Was the Devil in Logandale? Aw, shit… he didn't know what to think or believe.
Nellie smiled at him and walked toward him, holding out her arms.
The phone rang.
