'Salem's Lot(117)

'I don't think he'll be talking to anyone today,' Mark said quietly.

'What did you find out about them?' Jimmy asked Matt.

'Anything useful?'

'Well, I think I've put some of the pieces together. Straker must be this thing's human watchdog and body?guard . . . a kind of human familiar. He must have been in town long before Barlow appeared. There were certain rites to be performed, in propitiation of the Dark Father. Even Barlow has his Master, you see.' He looked at them somberly. 'I rather suspect no one will ever find a trace of Ralphie Glick. I think he was Barlow's ticket of admission. Straker took him and sacrificed him.'

'Bastard,' Jimmy said distantly.

'And Danny Glick?' Ben asked.

'Straker bled him first,' Matt said. 'His Master's gift. First blood for the faithful servant. Later, Barlow would have taken over that job himself. But Straker performed another service for his Master before Barlow ever arrived. Do any of you know what?'

For a moment there was silence, and then Mark said quite distinctly, 'The dog that man found on the cemetery gate.'

'What?' Jimmy said. 'Why? Why would he do that?'

'The white eyes,' Mark said, and then looked questioningly at Matt, who was nodding with some surprise.

'All last night I nodded over these books, not knowing we had a scholar in our midst.' The boy blushed a little. 'What Mark says is exactly right. According to several of the standard references on folklore and the supernatural, one way to frighten a vampire away is to paint white 'angel eyes' over the real eyes of a black dog. Win's Doc was all black except for two white patches. Win used to call them his headlights - they were directly over his eyes. He let the dog run at night. Straker must have spotted it, killed it, and then hung it on the cemetery gate.'

'And how about this Barlow?' Jimmy asked. 'How did he get to town?'

Matt shrugged. 'I have no way of telling. I think that we must assume, in line with the legends, that he is old . . . very old. He may have changed his name a dozen times, or a thousand. He may have been a native of almost every country in the world at one time or another, although I suspect his origins may have been Romanian or Magyar or Hungarian. It doesn't really matter how he got to town anyway . . . although I wouldn't be surprised to find out Larry Crockett had a hand in it. He's here. That's the important thing.

'Now, here is what you must do: Take a stake when you go. And a gun, in case Straker is still alive. Sheriff McCaslin's revolver will serve the purpose. The stake must pierce the heart or the vampire may rise again. Jimmy, you can check that. When you have staked him you must cut off his head, stuff the mouth with garlic, and turn it face down in the coffin. In most vampire fiction, Hollywood and otherwise, the staked vampire mortifies almost in?stantly into dust. This may not happen in real life. If it doesn't, you must weight the coffin and throw it into ?running water. I would suggest the Royal River. Do you have questions?'

There were none.

'Good. You must each carry a vial of holy water and a bit of the Host. And you must each have Father Callahan hear your confession before you go.'

'I don't think any of us are Catholic,' Ben said.

'I am,' Jimmy said. 'Nonpracticing.'

'Nonetheless, you will make a confession and an act of contrition. Then you go pure, washed in Christ's blood . . . clean blood, not tainted.'

'All right,' Ben said.

'Ben, had you slept with Susan? Forgive me, but - '

'Yes,' he said.

'Then you must pound the stake - first into Barlow, then into her. You are the only person in this little party who has been hurt personally. You will act as her husband. And you mustn't falter. You'll be releasing her.'

'All right,' he said again.

'Above all' - his glance swept all of them - 'you must not look in his eyes! If you do, he'll catch you and turn you against the others, even at the expense of your own life.

Remember Floyd Tibbits! That makes it dangerous to carry a gun, even if it's necessary. Jimmy, you take it, and hang back a little. If you have to examine either Barlow or Susan, give it to Mark.'

'Understood,' Jimmy said.

'Remember to buy garlic. And roses, if you can. Is that little flower shop in Cumberland still open, Jimmy?'

'The Northern Belle? I think so. '

'A white rose for each of you. Tie them in your hair or around your neck. And I'll repeat myself - don't look in his eyes! I could keep you here and tell you a hundred other things, but you better go along. It's ten o'clock already, and Father Callahan may be having second thoughts. My best wishes and my prayers go with you. Praying is quite a trick for an old agnostic like me, too. But I don't think I'm as agnostic as I once was. Was it Carlyle who said that if a man dethrones God in his heart, then Satan must ascend to His position?'

No one answered, and Matt sighed. 'Jimmy, I want a closer look at your neck.'

Jimmy stepped to the bedside and lifted his chin. The wounds were obviously punctures, but they had both scabbed over and seemed to be healing nicely.

'Any pain? Itching?' Matt asked.

'No.'

'You were very lucky,' he said, looking at Jimmy soberly.

'I'm starting to think I was luckier than I'II ever know.' Matt leaned back in his bed. His face looked drawn, the eyes deeply socketed. 'I will take the pill Ben refused, if you please.'