They were huge, and Longarm had to ask himself if their eyes were actually glowing or if it was just a trick of the light. Their slow, awkward movements were familiar to Longarm, as was the way they jerked but did not fall from the bullets fired by the gunmen. Clearly, the explosion and this attack were presents from the Voodoo Queen.
Longarm could wonder how Marie Laveau had known of the danger he and Annie were in later, after things had settled down. For the moment, he was still concerned with keeping the two of them alive, and the best way to do that was to remove the threat of Clement and Millard.
From the corner of his eye, Longarm saw one of the men from the wagon grab hold of a gunman. The hired killer shrieked and emptied his pistol into the man's chest, but the effect of the shots was too late to save him. The death blow was already falling. The man's balled fist came hammering down on the gunman's head, crushing his skull like an eggshell. Longarm's hearing was starting to come back, and he could have sworn that he heard the crunch of bone. Slowly, both men toppled over, dead before they hit the floor.
Longarm scooped up the pistol Clement had dropped and swung around toward Millard. A desperate look was on Millard's face as he shouted, "Scott! Willie!" at the two remaining henchmen who were still on their feet. Scott and Willie had problems of their own, however, and couldn't come to his help. Both of them were trying to avoid the lunges of the zombies who were after them.
Millard grimaced and pegged a shot toward Longarm. The bullet whipped past Longarm's head as he returned fire. Millard was already darting aside, and Longarm's shot missed. Millard threw himself toward the piles of crates, intending to use them for cover. Longarm ran after him.
Millard knew the layout of the warehouse a lot better than he did, Longarm realized. Once Millard got in that maze of stacked-up boxes, he would be as difficult to track down as a rat in a hole. Longarm snapped another shot at him, then grated a curse as he saw the slug kick up splinters from the crate behind which Millard had just disappeared.
"Custis!" Annie cried out behind him.
He jerked around to see that she was on her feet, pointing toward the other side of the warehouse. One of the gunmen was dangling limply by the neck from the hands of one of the Voodoo Queen's men, but the other one was still struggling with his almost inhuman opponent as flames danced around their feet. Longarm saw the shattered chimney of a lantern shining in pieces on the floor near them, and knew that in their struggle they must have jostled it off the crate on which it had been sitting. The kerosene that had spilled when the lantern broke had ignited furiously, and now the flames were spreading rapidly across the floor to more of the crates.
Longarm cast a glance over his shoulder toward the spot where Millard had vanished. There was no time to try to root him out now. Instead, Longarm ran across the big room toward Annie. As he reached her, he saw the broken body of the final gunman being cast aside. The zombie shambled a couple of steps as if confused, then stopped and sank to his knees. His shirt was sodden with blood, the spreading stain black in the harsh glare of the flames. He pitched slowly forward onto his face, and then lay still as death claimed him. Longarm realized that he and Annie were the only ones still on their feet.
He grabbed her arm and hustled her over toward the wagon. The horses were trying to rear up in their traces, driven mad by the smoke and the smell of blood. Longarm helped Annie up into the bed of the wagon, then ran back for the one gunman who was still alive, the one who had been trying to choke Longarm to death until he had busted the man's eardrums. Longarm saw trails of blood leaking out of both ears as he stooped to grab the unconscious man under the arms and drag him toward the wagon. Deaf or not, he could still testify against Clement and Millard.
Longarm hoisted the man and threw him into the back of the wagon. Annie cringed away from him. Longarm turned back for Clement and realized angrily that the mastermind behind the slave-running scheme was gone. "What the hell!" Longarm exclaimed aloud. Only moments ago, Clement had been lying right there on the floor where he had fallen after Longarm knocked him out... hadn't he?
Longarm didn't know. In the noise and confusion, almost anything could have happened and he might not have noticed. What mattered now was that he was running out of time. One entire wall of the warehouse was already ablaze, and the flames were spreading toward the jagged opening where the doors had been.
There was no sign of Millard either. Longarm didn't know if he had gotten out of the building by some other way or was still somewhere in those small mountains of crates. Being careful that he didn't get anywhere near the lashing hooves of the horses, Longarm hurried to the front of the team and reached up to grab the harness of one of the leaders. It took all of his strength to haul the animal back down and bring it under some semblance of control. Straining and pulling, he led the team in a circle until they were pointed back toward the opening.
"Hang on!" Longarm shouted to Annie, then he slapped the closest of the leaders on the rump as hard as he could and jumped back out of the way.
With the sight and smell of open air in front of them, the horses lunged forward, pulling the wagon behind them. Longarm saw Annie holding tightly to one of the sideboards as the vehicle rocked and clattered out through the opening. Longarm cast one more look around the inside of the warehouse, making certain that everyone else was dead. There was still no sign of Clement or Millard.
Longarm ran out into the fresh air after the wagon. It was an overcast day, but the sunlight that made it through the clouds still seemed almost painfully bright after the dimness of the warehouse. Longarm saw a crowd of dockworkers converging on the burning warehouse, and somewhere in the distance he heard bells clanging. The fire wagons would be here soon.
He gulped down deep breaths of air, and despite the humid stickiness and the rotten fish odor, nothing had ever smelled quite as good to him. When he looked back at the building, thick gouts of black smoke were billowing up from the warehouse, filling the sky above the Crescent City and the mighty river that ran through it. The roof was blazing now, and with a roar, part of it fell in. All the contraband Clement and Millard had stored there was going to be consumed in the fire.
The thought of Clement and Millard made a bitter taste clog Longarm's mouth. The two ringleaders had gotten away. They were responsible for the murder of a federal lawman, as well as untold suffering on the part of the men and women who had been kidnapped and forced into slavery. Add to that the suffering of the loved ones left behind by those victims of the slavery ring, and the toll was high.
Longarm was not going to rest until Clement and Millard had paid for it.
One of the dockworkers came running up to him and grasped his arm. "Hey, mister, you all right?" asked the man. When Longarm managed to nod, the dockworker went on. "What in hell happened?"
"Hell," murmured Longarm, but it wasn't a curse. "You're closer to right than you know, old son."
Longarm turned away from the man, who had a confused expression on his face, as a woman called urgently, "Custis!" The voice didn't belong to Annie Clement, though. When Longarm turned around, he saw Claudette hurrying through the crowd toward him.
She threw herself into his arms and kissed him. Instinctively, Longarm embraced her, pulling her close against him. After a moment, Claudette moved her head back, breaking the kiss, and asked anxiously, "You are all right, you?"