New Orleans Run Read online

  None of them paid any attention to me while they were fighting Jerry, so I took advantage of it and ran."

  "And you were able to elude them. My compliments."

  Eleanore detected a slight tinge of sarcasm in his tone, which puzzled her. "It wasn't easy. They took off after me. Thank God it was night. In broad daylight they would have easily caught me. As it was, I just barely escaped them."

  "Lucky you."

  "You don't know the half of it. Anyway, I hid in this thicket until they called off the search and went back to the cabin where Adrien had been doing his broadcasting. I snuck to within twenty yards of the front door and saw the Baron and some of his goons taking Jerry, Adrien, and the shortwave."

  "They didn't keep hunting you?"

  "I was surprised too. I guess the Baron didn't figure I was much of a threat. Maybe he figured hunger would make me give up. I haven't eaten since. Besides, they posted guards at the boats, and there's no way anyone can make it through the bayou without one. There's too many gators and snakes and other things. Horrible things."

  Lynx walked in silence for the next 30 feet, contemplating her disclosure and striving to decide whether he could count her as an ally or an enemy. Although she sounded sincere, any accomplished liar could do so and maintain a straight face. Personally, he wanted to believe her. But her story contained a few glaring inconsistencies. For instance, how likely was it that the tonton whatever-they-were would up and release her when there must have been enough of them on hand to deal with the other members of the Resistance? And how feasible was her assertion that she had eluded her pursuers when she'd had maybe 60 seconds head start at the most? Another objection presented itself. "How did the Baron know about the cabin?"

  "I wish I knew."

  "Sounds to me like he knew all about your shortwave and set a neat little trap."

  "That's the way I read it."

  "And you have no idea how he knew?"

  Eleanore glanced at the hybrid. "I told you I don't. Why do you keep asking?"

  "No reason."

  "Liar. You don't believe me, do you?"

  "Sure I do."

  "No, you don't."

  Again the peculiar odor tantalized Lynx's nostrils, and he cocked his head, his nose flaring, stumped. What in the world was it? He vaguely recalled having encountered such a scent before.

  "Is something wrong?" Eleanore asked, gazing nervously at the forest.

  "No."

  "Then why were you smelling the air like that?"

  "I like to exercise my nose once an hour whether it needs the workout or not."

  "Come on. Be honest with me."

  "Why should I buck the trend?"

  Eleanore clenched her fists, then nodded to herself. "I knew you didn't believe me. Well, screw you. I'm not telling you another damn thing."

  "Suit yourself. I'll do my best to survive the shock."

  "Has anyone ever told you that you're a smart-ass?"

  "Nope. No one."

  "There you go lying again. How does your wife put up with you? She must have the patience of a saint." Lynx abruptly halted and turned.

  "Keep your mouth off of my squeeze, lady. She's got more brass than any ten broads I know."

  The fiery passion in the hybrid's eyes subdued Eleanore's anger.

  "Sorry," she blurted out. "I wasn't trying to insult your woman."

  "You'd better not," Lynx warned, and resumed hiking to the west. "And technically speaking, she's not exactly a woman."

  "What do you mean?"

  "Melody is a hybrid like me. We were bred in test tubes by sons of bitches who were tryin' to play God."

  "I never heard of such a thing. What's a test tube?"

  "A little glass container shaped like your finger."

  "Are you putting me on?"

  "Look at me, stupid. Do you think I hatched from an egg? Or came from Mars?"

  "I know you didn't come from Mars," Eleanore stated.

  "Oh?"

  "Yeah. I talked to an oldster once who told me all about this book that his grandfather had told him about. It was all about the war between Earth and Mars."

  Lynx stopped again, his brow creased in confusion. "What are you babbling about?"

  "So you don't know everything, huh? I'm surprised you haven't heard about the war. It took place a couple of hundred years ago. Started in a country called England."

  "Mars and the Earth never fought a war, you dingbat."

  "Says you. I prefer to believe the oldster. He supplied all the details he remembered. How the Martians came to Earth in these cylinders that resembled meteors, and how they landed in England and wiped out thousands of people with their death rays. They built these huge machines and roamed the land wiping out the population. According to the old man, the Martians nearly ruled the world."

  "Do you expect me to buy this fairy tale of yours?"

  "I didn't invent the story. The old man heard the details from his grandfather," Eleanore reiterated.

  "The old man must have been stoned out of his gourd."

  "He was sober."

  "Idiot," Lynx muttered, and kept going.

  "Listen to the history expert. How many books on history have you read?"

  "None, but—" Lynx began.

  "Then how do you know it's not the truth?"

  "If it was, you'd think more folks would know about a war between us and some geeks from Mars. How come I haven't heard about this great war before?"

  "No one talks about it much anymore. Why should they? Everyone with half a brain knows it happened."

  "Bet me."

  "And they weren't geeks from Mars. They were octopuses from Mars."

  "Octopuses!" Lynx exploded in exasperation, and inadvertently released her wrist. "You mean those things in the ocean with all the tentacles?"

  "Yep."

  "Let me tell you something, sister. That old man saw you coming a mile off and decided to jerk your G-string. You almost had me believing you until now. Octopuses from Mars!" Lynx snorted contemptuously, grabbed her arm, and stalked in the direction of the treeline.

  "Check with somebody else if you don't believe me."

  "If you think I'm going to waltz up to someone else and ask them if this planet was ever invaded by a bunch of geek octopuses from Mars, you're crazy."

  "Find the book. Then you'll know I told you the truth."

  Lynx thought of the enormous Family library with its hundreds of thousands of volumes stocked by the Founder of the Home, Kurt Carpenter, and speculated on whether the book she mentioned might be included. Carpenter had accumulated half a million books, shelf after shelf of reference books, history books, geography books, books on military tactics, books on gardening, hunting, and fishing. Blade had told Lynx that the library contained the greatest collection in existence, including all the classics, humorous books, scientific tomes, photographic volumes, and many, many more. He had taken the giant's word for it. Lynx wasn't much of a reader, primarily because he could seldom sit still long enough to finish an entire book.

  "And here I thought you were Mr. Know-It-All," Eleanore remarked scornfully.

  "Not that I believe your garbage for a second, but you've got me curious. Whatever happened to all these invader octopuses? There's none around now."

  "They were all killed off by germs."

  "Great. Here we go again."

  "I'm serious. Do you know how when you have a cold and you cough, you spread all these tiny germs in the air?"

  "I know you've got a germ for a brain."

  "Look do you want to know the answer or not?"

  Lynx sighed. "Sure. Why not? I've listened to this much B.S. Why not give me the rest of it?"

  "Okay. The old man told me that the germs in our atmosphere killed the Martians because they don't have the same kind of germs on their planet as we do on ours. So germs that would just affect you and me with a sore throat or a runny nose will wipe out a Martian."

  "That's some imagination you'v
e got there, sweetcheeks. One of these days you should write a book of your own. Call it War of the Geeks."

  "What's with you and geeks?" Eleanore asked, men did a double take.

  "Hey. What did you just call me?"

  "I don't remember."

  "Yes you do. You called me sweetcheeks."

  "Don't take it personally. I call chipmunks sweetcheeks, too," Lynx told her. They were now 20 feet from the woods, and for the third time his sensitive nose registered the unknown scent. Only this time the odor sparked a memory. "Do you have pigs in Louisiana?"

  "Wild pigs, you mean?"

  "I smell pig," Lynx declared. "I don't know if it's wild or tame."

  "There wouldn't be any domestic pigs here," Eleanore stated, and suddenly her visage reflected budding shock. "Oh, no!"

  Lynx drew up short and glanced at her. "Oh no, what?"

  "Boars . A lot of wild boars have spread across the bayous since the war."

  A flash of chilling insight electrified the hybrid, and he looked at the gloomy forest just as a 400-pound mass of primal fury hurtled from the undergrowth directly at them, its nine-inch upswept tusks glinting wickedly in the bright sunlight.

  Chapter Nine

  Blade rotated on his heels and stared at the bayou. He expected to see a water snake, perhaps even a cottonmouth, swimming near the bank.

  Instead, to his utter consternation, he beheld a literal monster of incredible dimensions, a reptile that dwarfed every animal he had ever seen, a creature that rivaled the dinosaurs.

  A gargantuan black snake.

  The serpent was over 50 yards from the shore, yet even at that distance its tremendous, sinuous bulk eclipsed everything around it, even trees. Ten feet in height and 40 feet in length, the snake appeared to be a throwback to the ancient era when gigantic animals ruled the earth. Its elongated head swung from side to side as it wound across the swamp, and its slender red tongue flicked outward repeatedly, testing the air.

  "Tell me I'm dreaming!" Ferret breathed in amazement.

  "What if it spots us, yes?" Gremlin declared.

  "Take cover," Blade directed, and swiveled to reach for their prisoner.

  Henri Pétion was already in motion. The sight of the snake had produced a remarkable transformation in his visage. Sheer joy lit his eyes and he beamed happily. He shoved off the ground as the giant turned toward him, brushing past his captors in a bound and darting down to the edge of the water.

  "What the—" Blade began, rising.

  "I'll get him," Ferret offered, and took a step forward.

  Suddenly Pétion lifted his arms to the heavens and shouted across the water. "Damballah! Mighty Damballah! Your humble servant is here to do your bidding!"

  "What the hell is that idiot doing?" Ferret snapped.

  "Gremlin doesn't like this, no," the humanoid offered.

  Blade saw the huge snake start to stop. "Hit the dirt," he directed, and suited action to his command by turning and diving into the undergrowth. He heard the brush rustle on either side as the hybrids obeyed, then he crawled to the north and covered a minimum of 20 yards before he halted and rose to his knees.

  Pétion had stepped a few feet into the water and was now standing motionless, his arms still raised. "Great Damballah! Hear the prayer of your loyal follower!"

  The Warrior looked at the serpent and felt his pulse quicken.

  Advancing at a slow, winding clip, the snake was approaching the bank, its gaze fixed on the tonton macoute.

  What was the fool doing? Blade marveled, and eased lower, slightly parting the weeds in front of him so he could witness whatever happened next. Fleeing was out of the question. The serpent would undoubtedly spot them and overtake them within seconds. The smartest recourse was to stay where they were, well hidden, until the snake departed.

  "You have blessed me with a visitation, oh wondrous Damballah!"

  Pétion cried ecstatically.

  The, man must be insane! Blade reasoned. He slid the Bowie into its sheath and tucked the Thompson against his right side, his finger on the trigger, ready to cut loose. A glance to his right revealed Ferret a yard away; a glance to his left showed Gremlin crouching behind a bushy clump of matted vegetation.

  "Magnificent Snake God!" Pétion raved on. "You came in response to my prayer! You came, yet I did not use the Sacred Drum!"

  Blade watched in fascination as the reptile neared the man is black. He was astounded by Pétions behavior. The man acted as if he knew the snake!

  "Now you will destroy the enemies of our Society," Pétion shouted.

  "Now you will show them our power!"

  The serpent never deviated from its course. When only 15 yards separated it from the voodoo practitioner, the snake stopped and elevated its head an additional four feet above the ground, that scarlet tongue flicking-flicking-flicking.

  Pétion waded out until the water reached his knees. He spread his arms out and stared up at the immense creature. "Go find our enemies, oh, mighty Damballah! Seek them out and devour them as you have done so many times in the past! Show them your followers do not worship you in vain."

  Blade stayed as rigid as a rock, hardly breathing, dumbfounded by the riveting tableau.

  "Wait until the Baron hears of this!" Pétion declared. "Wait until he hears how you have favored me. I will move up quickly now. Why, I wouldn't be surprised to be appointed boko. And all thanks to you!"

  The living nightmare slid slowly toward the man in black, its dark, obsidian eyes reflecting its soulless nature.

  Henri Pétion performed a sweeping, obsequious bow. "Lord Damballah, I am yours to command! Do with me as you will." He straightened, his arms at his sides.

  The Snake God acknowledged the request.

  Suddenly sweeping forward, the black serpent's enormous head darted at the expectant human, its maw opening wide enough to accommodate a horse. Exhibiting lightning rapidity, striking before Pétion could utter a single sound, the snake snapped its mouth shut over its prey, then reared back.

  Blade felt revulsion at the ghastly sight. He could see Pétion's ankles and feet jutting from between the reptile's lips, the black shoes kicking and twisting, and then the snake tilted its head upward, gulped, and swallowed. Pétion's feet disappeared.

  A bulge formed in the serpent's throat just behind the jaw. For over a minute the snake didn't move except for the rippling of its scaly skin as the bulge flowed down its throat. Pressure from within distended its neck as Pétion went into his death throes, thrashing and tossing wildly.

  Blade almost stood and fired. He wanted to kill the serpent, but the realization that their weapons might not be adequate for the job deterred him. If he was going to take the reptile on, he would prefer to do it when he had an edge, some way of evening the odds.

  At last the snake turned and headed to the southeast, its head held low to the water, moving swiftly.

  The Warrior waited until the reptile was out of sight before standing.

  "Just when you think you've seen everything," he muttered.

  "That thing scared Gremlin, yes?" the humanoid said, rising. He removed the sunglasses and tossed them aside. Ferret stood and took several strides toward the bayou, his countenance registering severe agitation. "Did you see that sucker?" he asked absently. "Who could miss it?" Blade quipped. "What the hell are we doing here?" Ferret queried, gesturing at the water. "I mean, what the hell are we doing here?"

  "You know the reason we came to New Orleans," Blade said. "To find the party responsible for the distress call and to help the people here in their fight against the Black Snake Society." His eyes enlarged in amazement as the obvious finally dawned on him. The Black Snake Society!

  "No, you came to help some poor saps fight for their freedom," Ferret corrected him angrily. "Gremlin and I came because we're morons!

  Because we let Lynx sucker us in again!"

  "It's no use crying over spilt milk, no?" Gremlin commented.

  "I'm not worried about spillin
g milk, damn it," Ferret snapped. "I'm worried about spilling our blood. Didn't you see the size of that thing?"

  "Of course, yes."

  "And didn't it occur to you that we don't stand a prayer against a mutation as big as a mountain?"

  "We'll find a way to destroy it, yes," Gremlin asserted optimistically.

  "Yeah. Sure. Right. All we have to do is round up a mongoose forty feet long and we're in business."

  Gremlin glanced at Blade. "Excuse him, yes? A few little problems and he tends to fall to pieces."

  "Little!" Ferret bellowed. "If that snake gets any bigger, it'll start snacking on elephants."

  "That's impossible, no?" Gremlin responded, and snickered. "There are no elephants in this region, yes?"

  "You know what I mean," Ferret stated.

  Blade hefted the Thompson and turned. "Enough chitchat. We've got to find Lynx." He bore to the northeast.

  "Lynx," Ferret hissed. "This is all his fault. We've got weirdos who go around talking to giant snakes trying to blow us away, and the giant snakes they talk to ready to eat us if we show our faces." He paused. "I swear. If Lynx ever suggests we go on another mission, and I don't care if it's just to step outside the Home to gather blackberries, I'm going to belt him in the mouth."

  "That's a good point," Blade said.

  "What is?" Ferret asked in surprise.

  "Is there just that one snake or dozens roaming these swamps?" Blade wondered.

  "Dozens?" Ferret repeated, and glanced around nervously. "Nah. There couldn't be. Could there?"

  "Maybe the Black Snake Society made the snake with magic, yes?"

  Gremlin theorized.

  "Don't be crazy," Ferret said. "That voodoo stuff is a bunch of crap."

  "You never know, no?"

  "I know if you keep talking like this, I'm going to belt you in the mouth."

  Gremlin glanced at his friend in dismay. "Ferret wouldn't hurt Gremlin, yes?"

  "No. Of course not. It was just a figure of speech, "Ferret replied uncomfortably. "I'd never hurt you."

  "Good."

  "But I could kill Lynx."

  Blade smiled and stepped over a log. He planned to return to the vicinity of the cabin. If Lynx had been captured, then the cat-man should be in that area. If not, taking another of the tonton macoutes prisoner might enable them to learn critical information essential to the success of the operation. For starters, he'd like to know the identity of the leader of the Black Snake Society. Locating the voodoo sect's base of operations was equally important.