Even in this gloom, he could make out the man who towered over Claudette. Longarm brought the Colt down, slamming the butt of the gun against the back of the man's skull. There was no response, so he struck again and then again. Finally, after the third blow, the man shoved Claudette aside and swung around toward Longarm, his movements slow and lumbering but no less dangerous.
From the corner of his eye, Longarm saw Claudette stumble backwards to lean against the side of a building as she gasped for breath. He flipped the gun around so that its barrel pointed toward the huge shape. Even though he knew he was probably wasting his breath, he said harshly, "Hold it right there, old son! I don't want to have to kill you!"
These men, entranced just like the first one who had stalked Longarm, were not acting of their own accord. Longarm was convinced of that. Someone had put a spell on them--or drugged them, that was the more rational explanation--and sent them after him. Who had done that, and why, he didn't know. Royale was the best bet, but he had no proof that Royale used voodoo. The zombies looked like dockworkers. They were probably innocent men who had been turned into living weapons, and now that he knew what he was facing, Longarm didn't want to have to shoot them.
But there might not be any other way to stop them. Even now, the second man, the one who had been hit by several shots from the two gunmen, was climbing ponderously back to his feet, leaving two motionless figures sprawled on the alley floor behind him, their heads set at odd angles. The Devil and Davy Crockett had come to a bad end.
And so would Longarm and Claudette if they didn't get out of here.
One advantage they had over the creatures was that the zombies were slow. Longarm darted around the one coming toward him, easily avoiding a clumsy swipe of the man's ham-like hand. He grabbed Claudette's arm and said, "Come on!"
They broke into a run, dashing from the courtyard into another alley that opened off it. Once again Longarm and Claudette raced along blindly, convinced that anything they might run into in the darkness wouldn't be as bad as what was behind them. For a moment, Longarm could hear the shuffling sounds of pursuit, but then the noises faded away as he and Claudette emerged onto another street. He had no idea where they were. They were among people again, though, and he was grateful for that. This street was nowhere near as packed as St. Charles Avenue had been, but there were enough revelers on the sidewalks for them to be able to blend into the crowd. Longarm slid his gun back into its holster before anyone could notice it, then led Claudette in a fast walk along the sidewalk. They weaved in and out of the celebrating pedestrians.
Quite a few people on this street were wearing costumes too, but none of them paid any attention to Longarm and Claudette. Longarm hoped that the pirate, the Indian, the clown, the devil, and the frontiersman had been the only assassins after him tonight. But who had sent them, and why had those zombies popped up like that? Had they been trailing him too? And what the hell had happened to Paul and Annie Clement? Longarm figured he had better get back to the Brass Pelican and find out if Millard had heard anything. If Royale had kidnapped the Clements, it had to be because of their connection with Millard, so it was natural to assume that he would get in touch with Millard to present his ransom demands.
Longarm's jaw tightened. He hoped like blazes that the next time around, Billy Vail would assign him to a case that was a mite simpler--like finding one particular blade of grass in the whole damned Great Plains!
After a few minutes, Longarm got his bearings and turned toward the waterfront. Claudette's hand tightened on his arm. "Custis," she said, "what are we to do?"
"I have to find out if Millard knows anything about what happened to Annie and Paul," said Longarm. "It's a pretty complicated business, Claudette, but Millard has an enemy who might try to get at him through his friends."
Claudette nodded. "This enemy, he is a voodoo priest, no?"
"Now, I just don't know about that," Longarm answered honestly.
"Only a priest or priestess of voudun could send those zombies after you."
Longarm shot a glance at her. "You know about things like that?"
"Gran'pere, his gran'mama was from Haiti. The slavers, they bring her there from Africa, long, long ago. Voudun was a religion there, and she was a high priestess, you see. She know all them rituals and how the religion got turned into voodoo... black magic. As a boy, Gran'pere hear the stories she tell, and he believe, you bet. I remember once, he been feudin' with this other fella who live round the bayou, and Gran'pere come to N'Awleans, buy himself a gris-gris--what you call a black magic charm--from Marie Laveau. He leave it on the fella's doorstep, and that fella, he get sick and like to die."
"But he didn't die?" asked Longarm, interested in this bizarre tale.
Claudette shook her head. "No. But he would have, you bet, if he had not come up here and bought a gris-gris of his own from the Voodoo Queen, what they call Marie Laveau."
"So he bought something to ward off the black magic your granddaddy sicced on him."
Claudette nodded.
"And he bought it from the same person who sold the original charm to Gran'pere," said Longarm.
"That is right."
Despite the harrowing night he had had, Longarm had to chuckle. "So this Marie Laveau gets 'em coming and going. Sounds like a pretty smart businesswoman."
Claudette stared at him, aghast at his lack of respect. "She is the Voodoo Queen!"
"Then maybe she's the lady I need to talk to if I want to find out who's been sending those zombies after me."
Claudette's eyes widened. "You have seen the zombies before tonight?"
"One of 'em tried to wring my neck a few nights ago," Longarm told her.
She shuddered and said, "You are a lucky man, you. Zombies come after a man, he wind up dead most all the time."
"I don't intend to let any zombie drag me back into the grave with him," declared Longarm. "I hate to ask it, but since you know something about this stuff, would you be willing to help me find this Marie Laveau?"
Again, Claudette shuddered. "It is not hard to find her. She lives in a little house on St. Anne Street. A fella who was grateful to her because she help his son give her the house. It belong to her for the rest of her days."
"You know where it is?"
She nodded. "I know."
"Will you show me?"
Stubbornly, Claudette shook her head. "I will not do this thing."
"But-"
She interrupted his protest. "I will go there and speak to Marie Laveau for you, Custis. I be safe there, but maybe you wouldn't be, no. Better for me to go by myself first."
"Damn it, that's not what I want. I don't want anything to happen to you."
She stopped and smiled up at him. Down the block, several men were serenading some women who leaned over the wrought-iron railing of a balcony on the second floor of one of the buildings. As the drunken, out-of-tune strains of "If Ever I Cease to Love" filled the night, Claudette put her hand on the back of Longarm's neck and pulled his head down to hers. Her mouth found his.
"I do this for you, Custis," she whispered as she broke the kiss. "Don't worry, you. The Voodoo Queen got no reason to put a spell on me."
"Well, all right," Longarm said grudgingly. "But be mighty careful."
"I will come to your hotel when I find out anything."
Longarm nodded and told her the room number. "Aren't you coming back to the Brass Pelican now?"
She shook her head. "No. Tell Mr. Millard how very sorry I am, but I have a more important job now, you bet. I help you find out who are your enemies, no?"
She had unofficially deputized herself, thought Longarm, and he had allowed such a thing to happen. When this case was over, he might have to be a little creative in the report he wrote for Billy Vail.
But then, a lot of things had already happened that Billy wasn't likely to believe!