The Devil's Cat Part 1

The Devil's Cat.

by William W. Johnstone.

To James Butler. A friend, a fan, and a marvelous singer.

All hope abandon, ye who enter here!

-Dante Alighieri

BOOK ONE.

1.

They had drifted for a year, not stopping for very long at any one place. Nydia knew her husband was looking for something, and knew what it was. But they had yet to find it.

Xaviere Flaubert's coven.

Since leaving upstate New York, Sam, Nydia, and Little Sam had kept contact with others to the barest minimum.

They were hunters, but yet they knew they were also the hunted.

They were hunting Satan's followers, and Satan's followers were hunting them.

Once, Sam thought he had found them in a small town in Illinois. That proved to be false.

They drove south into Georgia, and once more Sam felt he had found the followers of the Evil One. But again he was wrong.

"Sam?" Nydia said. "Let's try Nebraska."

"Why there?" he asked.

"The beginning," she said simply.

Sam pointed the nose of the car west.

On the fringes of what had once been the town of Whitfield, Nebraska, Sam stopped the car.

"They aren't here," he said to his beautiful, raven-haired young wife. "But ... something is."

"Can we get closer?"

"We can try."

The young couple, with Little Sam asleep on the backseat, drove into the charred remains of what the ma.s.sive fireball had left when it struck the earth, several years back. They found nothing. But both were experiencing a very odd sensation.

"Do you feel it?" Sam asked.

"Yes. But I don't know what it is."

They drove on, through the cracked county road that wound through the sand hills. Sam drove slowly, his eyes searching both sides of the little-used road.

For what, he still did not know.

Then he saw the dog, loping along the side of the road, pacing them. Sam slowed to a crawl; the dog slowed, keeping pace. Sam picked up speed; the dog picked up speed.

"What the h.e.l.l? ..." he muttered.

"Stop, Sam!" Nydia said.

Sam braked and looked at her. "What is it, Nydia?"

Nydia looked at the light-fawn-colored dog, sitting on the side of the road, looking at them. "He is a friend, and we're going to need him."

Sam never questioned his wife. Nydia was a witch. But the inherent good in her had overpowered the dark side and Nydia had accepted G.o.d Almighty as her only G.o.d.

That action had infuriated the Dark One. He had schemed and plotted and sworn to have her as his own. For years Satan had tried to kill Sam and possess Nydia as his own. He had flung his awesome powers toward that end.

But whatever Satan did, it always ended in failure at bringing Sam and Nydia to their knees, to wors.h.i.+p him. Once he thought for sure he had them up in Canada. He failed, and the skies darkened and it stormed for days. Another time he was certain he had them in upstate New York. But Sam destroyed his coven and then blew up the town to spite him.

And through it all, Nydia had stood like a rock beside her husband and child.

And the Dark One cursed them.

"Call the dog, Sam," she said.

Sam hesitated.

"He won't hurt us. He is why we are here."

Sam opened the door and got out. It was warm for this early in the spring, and the hot winds fanned him.

He wondered if it was just just the wind. the wind.

He thought not.

Sam squatted down beside the car and called for the dog to come to him. "Come on, boy. Come to me."

The dog did not hesitate. He rose from a sitting position and trotted to Sam, standing in front of the young man.

Sam stayed in a squat, looking at the dog. He couldn't tell what breed it was. It looked to be perhaps a hundred pounds, with a ma.s.sive head and large jaws. The crus.h.i.+ng power in those jaws would be tremendous. The dog appeared to have some German shepherd in him, as well as perhaps some boxer. His ears were pure hound dog. He was solid, with powerful legs. A thick neck.

But it was his eyes that fascinated Sam. One was light blue, the other one was a yellow-gold color. Sam wondered if the dog was blind in his pale eye, as is so often the case. He tested the animal. The pale eye seemed to be normal.

Sam turned around and looked back. Little Sam was awake, sitting up on the backseat, looking at his father and the dog.

"You like him, Sam?" his father asked.

The boy smiled and nodded his head.

"I wonder if he has fleas?" Sam muttered.

"I doubt it," Nydia said, a touch of the mysterious in her voice.

"Dog!" Little Sam said, his voice filled with excitement. "Dog!"

"I guess that's what we'll call him," his father said.

Sam looked more closely at the big dog. No collar.

"That you can see." Nydia spoke softly.

When they first met, it startled Sam to have her read his mind. Now he paid very little attention to it. And since sometimes he did not know the true meaning behind her words-as now-Sam elected to remain silent.

The sky began to swiftly darken, announcing the forming of a savage prairie storm. Thunder rumbled around them and lightning lashed the heavens, seeking introduction with the earth.

Not G.o.d's earth, Sam thought. For he knew only too well-firsthand-that while G.o.d ruled the Heavens, the galaxies, Satan roamed the earth, ruling it from time to time.

Dog looked up at the dark sky and growled deep in his throat, baring his wet fangs at the lightning.

Little Sam, now in his fourth year, laughed at the approaching storm.

It was still unclear to mother and father exactly what power the boy possessed ... Good, or Bad.

Both felt the boy was on the side of Good, for he had exhibited signs to that effect.

But neither could be certain. They would have to wait. Wait.

The winds began to howl, screaming over the sand hills and ripping the hot air, but not cooling it. The air became hotter, and with it came a foul, evil-smelling, putrid odor. The odor a.s.sailed the nostrils of all who smelled it.

Dog sneezed and growled.

Sam looked around him, sudden realization touching him with a numbing sensation.

They were parked in the middle of what used to be Whitfield.

He said as much to Nydia.

''Yes," she replied. "I know. I can feel Dad's presence."

"Yes. But he is far away."

Dog growled and turned his big head, looking at Sam.

"Sam?" Nydia said. "Let's go."

"Are you afraid?" her husband asked.

"No. But I know where they are."

Strength filled the young man. He rose to his feet just as the first hot, stinking drops of rain began pelting the barren earth. He opened the door and Dog jumped onto the backseat, lying down beside Little Sam.

Sam slid behind the wheel and turned around. "Where, Nydia?"

Her eyes were closed and her brow furrowed in deep thought. Sweat streaked her face. Sam remained silent, for he had seen her like this before.

The storm battered the car. The winds shrieked in a familiar language to those whose lives were dedicated to fighting evil.

Sam looked back at Little Sam and Dog. The boy was patting the huge head of the animal. Dog opened his eyes and gazed into the dark eyes of the boy. Something invisible moved between them; some ... understanding, Sam felt.

Sam took his foot off the brake and the car moved forward slowly.

"They're waiting, Sam," Nydia said. "They are firmly entrenched and waiting for us."

"What do you see, Nydia?"

He was suddenly aware of Dog sitting up on the backseat, his big head resting on the back of the front seat, his mismatched eyes studying Nydia.

"Cold unblinking eyes," she said, her voice husky.

"What is behind those eyes, Nydia?"

"I don't know. Yet."

"Which way, Nydia?"

"I see cypress trees and Spanish moss. Lazy streams. No. Bayous. It's very hot. The people are friendly and open."

"Bayous? Louisiana?"

"Yes."

"What else, Nydia?"

She opened her eyes and turned her head, looking at Sam. "Black magic."