The Devil's Touch

And Sam knew then what his father expected him to do. 'Dad—I can't fight an entire town.'

'I did,' the father threw down the challenge with that short statement.

Sam felt the presence of his dad leave him, leave the house. The more astute of the others in the room also picked up on the departure.

'He is gone,' Noah said.

'Yes,' Sam said. He then informed the gathering of the gist of his conversation with his father. Joe came in the room just in time to catch the last part.

'The whole damned town!' he blurted. 'There ain't no way possible, Sam. Good God, boy—think about the odds, will you?'

'Dad seemed to think there is,' Sam countered. 'And he was adamant on that.'

'Sam,' Monty protested. 'We're outnumbered three or four hundred to one!'

'I know,' the young man said. 'But so was Dad, back in Nebraska, in the late '50s.'

Joe looked mournful. 'Yeah. But he got killed.'

Sam glanced at him. 'Yes. To save the others,' he reminded them all.

'You gonna answer me or not, you son-of-a-bitch!' Jenkins yelled through the bullhorn. 'I'm damn tired of fucking around with you, Balon.'

Sam walked to a window facing the front grounds, opened it, and burned a full clip of ammunition at the gate and the crowd gathered there. Sam watched in grim satisfaction as his burst of fire knocked half a dozen sprawling on the gravel and the concrete. Three of them lay still, dying in bloods of blood. The others twitched and moaned and screamed in pain.

'There's my reply, Jenkins!' Sam yelled.

'We'll get you, Balon!' Jenkins promised. 'We'll get you all. You can't get out, none of you.'

Then the truth hit Sam. That's right—we can't get out. But for some reason I have yet to understand, you people are very reluctant to come onto these grounds.

He closed the window and turned to Father Le Moyne. He said as much to the priest, adding, 'Can you tell me the story behind this house; these grounds? Is there something special about it?'

'Sam, there is something that has been nagging at me ever since the day I met you and your wife. But I can't pull it to the surface. For some reason, I think someone is buried on these grounds, under the house, perhaps. It will come to me, in time.'

'I know something about the house,' Noah said. 'Both this house and the Giddon house were begun within hours of each other, and finished on the same day. So the stories go. For approximately forty years, this mansion was owned by a group of religious people, of all faiths. That was from—oh, 1890 to probably 1931 or '32. Then the mansion was empty for about twenty-five years. Along about 1945, just after the war, it came back on the market. It's been owned by several families since that time.'

'A group of religious people,' Sam said. 'What did they do here?'

'No one seems to know,' Noah told him. 'And 1 have done extensive research on the matter. But this one interesting fact kept cropping up: Religious leaders from all around the world have met here on more than one occasion. Very secretly. Between 1890 and 1930. People of all faiths; and I mean all faiths. But I do not have the vaguest idea what—if anything—was accomplished by or during those meetings.'

'I wonder why they stopped meeting here?' Father Le Moyne asked. 'And now that you mention it, I do recall something about that. And also about the name Balon. It will come to me, I'm sure.'

'Well,' Noah said. 'I have shared all the information I know on the subject. I will admit, it fascinated me for a time, but the well ran dry, and one can only butt one's head against a stone wall for so long.'

'Desiree?' Sam looked at the beautiful young woman. 'Does this place have an attic?'

'I'm sure it does,' she replied. 'But everything has—happened so fast I haven't even thought of looking for it.'

'Monty, you and the others keep your eyes open,' Sam said. He looked at Noah. 'Want to explore the house?'

'Delighted, Sam.'

When questioned, Desiree admitted she had no idea where any keys might be located. She had keys to the entrance doors on the ground floor and to the garage. That was it.

'See if you can find me an axe,' Sam said to Richard Hasseling. 'If the doors are locked, and I'm betting they will be, we'll break them in. I'll get us some flashlights and we'll be ready to go.'

It took four heavy swings with the axe to break down the final door leading to the attic. When the thick oak door was smashed, hanging by its hinges, the two men were met by yawning darkness, the open mouth of the cavernous room greeting them like some prehistoric monster lying in wait for prey.

For the first time Noah showed some hesitation. 'I don't like this, Sam.'

'Neither do I,' Sam admitted. 'But I think there are answers somewhere in this room. And I want to know why those Devil worshippers outside so far refuse to set foot on the grounds of Fox Estate.'

Sam fumbled around in the entrance of the room until he found the light switch and clicked it on. Naturally, nothing happened. The room remained immersed in darkness, ominously silent.

'Nydia,' he called. 'See if you can find some light bulbs, honey.'

The men clicked on flashlights, playing the beams of light into the room, the narrow lines of light touching the dusty, cobwebbed, sheet-draped contents of the attic.