The Invaders

"Toldus people was losin' things all over the county--includin' two kids.Said crops has shrunk. Said water in the forks is way down."

  "He's right."

  "Said people were gettin' the idea Dark Valley was livin' off the restof the land. Feedin' on it, like a parasite. How crazy you think thatis?"

  * * * * *

  Slowly, Jerry said, "I'm not sure it's crazy at all."

  Carver brooded. "I shot that thing tonight. Should 'a been dead if acritter ever was. Then I seen it go after Ed."

  "You know what all this means, don't you? Witchcraft. Something peoplehaven't believed in for hundreds of years."

  "Mebbe they better get started again."

  They were nearing the divide that overlooked Dark Valley. "Mike, I'vebeen reading up on it, for hours. Everything I could find. And it fits.It's been the hardest struggle I ever had--admitting such a thingexisted. But it was either acknowledge that or lose my mind."

  The night seemed colder as they started downward. Unaccountably, theheadlights dimmed.

  "Somethin' watchin' us," Carver said suddenly, as the car bored onthrough the thick and swirling darkness.

  Jerry nodded. His hands gripped the wheel until the knuckles were white.Sweat began to glisten on his forehead.

  The headlights picked out a dark spot, that looked like a yawning hole.Jerry stamped on the brake, skidded slightly. But there was only ashallow rut, deformed by shadows. He pressed the accelerator ... and themotor died. Hurriedly, he jabbed the starter button, pumped the gaspedal. Again he pushed it, and again, as the lights faded from the drainon the battery.

  "What's the matter?" Carver's old voice was thin.

  "Flooded, maybe. Better let her sit a minute."

  The darkness pressed close around them, shifted and danced. Chill airmoved over their faces.

  "Mike."

  "Yeah."

  "Why didn't that animal come after, you, too?"

  Carver breathed heavily for a moment. Then he took something from hisshirt pocket and held it out. Jerry's fingers moved over it. A crucifix.

  "My mother give it to me a long time ago."

  "That's probably the only thing that could have saved you. From what Iread, they can't stand a cross. And silver's got something to do withit." Jerry reached into his own pocket. "Feel this."

  Carver's rough hand fumbled over the object.

  "Made it this evening. Took a cold chisel and hammer to an old silvertray. Not fancy, but it was all I had."

  "You done that, before I came and told you about Ed?"

  Jerry nodded grimly. "I'm convinced we're up against something terrible.And believe me, Mike, I'm scared."

  * * * * *

  The shadows drew closer, thicker still. They seemed charged with menace.

  With a catch in his voice, Jerry said, "Maybe now's the time to try it."

  Carver's head jerked around.

  "I mean smash Merklos and his tribe for good."

  "How?"

  "With fire, and the silver crosses."

  After a long pause, Carver said, "What about Ed?"

  "We'll get to your cabin. We're not far from the first farm. We can goright up the valley. If it works."

  "And if it don't?"

  "We might end up like Ed."

  Carver turned and spat out the window. "I don't want to, but I will."

  They got out of the car, into the humming darkness. They took gunnysacks and rags from the trunk compartment and soaked them in oil fromthe crankcase. They wired a bundle on the extension handle of the jack,and another on the radio aerial rod which Jerry unscrewed.

  They tried to start the car once more, without success. So they turnedoff the lights and left it. With one torch burning, they started up theroad for the first gate.

  Dark Valley's shadowy legions closed in. There was a rustling and awhispering all around them. There were shiny glints where none ought tobe. There was an overwhelming feeling that something frightfulwaited--just beyond the edge of darkness.

  "The gate," Carver said hoarsely.

  Jerry unclenched his jaws and lit the second torch. The flare-upreflected from the blank windows ahead.

  "What about the wimmen? What about the kids?"

  Jerry spoke jerkily, his eyes on the house. "There aren't any kids. Whatwe saw was something else. The women are the same as the men, the sameas the thing that killed Ed. Don't worry about them. Hold the cross infront of you, and for God's sake hang onto it!"

  The darkness swelled like a living thing. It swayed and clutched at thetorches. Somewhere a high whining began, like a keening wind.

  There were sudden sounds from the house--bangings and scramblings.Carver faltered.

  "On!" Jerry said savagely, and began to run. He touched his home-madecrucifix to the wood of the porch, and with the other hand brought thetorch down. Blue sparks jumped out at him. The dry wood hissed andblazed up furiously.

  A frightful scream rang out. There was the tinkle of breaking glass.Formless figures thudded to the ground and scuttled away on all fours,headed up the valley.

  Within minutes the farmhouse was a mass of roaring flame. Jerry backedaway from it. He saw Carver outlined against the glowing barn, which hehad fired. They came together and hurried back to the road. There theystopped to watch the pillar of flame and smoke, boiling upward.

  "It worked," Carver said.

  Jerry nodded. "We can't kill them. But we can drive them out."

  "Wimmen and kids," Carver said bitterly. "Did you see them things thatcame out?"

  "Yes." Jerry was drenched in sweat and the torch trembled in his hand."Let's get on to the next one, Mike."

  They went on to the neighboring farm, and to the one after that, whilethe shadows pulsed in an unholy turmoil. The night swarmed withmalignant invisible forces, that tried to blow the flame from theirtorches, that flayed them with the naked sword of fear. There werehideous shapes, half-seen. There were waves of terror like a physicalshock. There were puffs of ordure, so rank they gagged.

  But they plodded through it, faces set, sweating and agonized. Till,halfway up the valley _it_ came....

  Carver knew it first. His leathery face paled; his hands fumbledinstinctively for the gun he was not carrying.

  Then Jerry said hoarsely, "Mike, did you hear that?"

  Carver nodded dumbly.

  Clearly, now, came the sound of those huge paws, padding first on oneside of them, then the other. Jerry clutched his cross till the roughedges bit deep into his hand.

  It seemed that his very life was bound up with the torch that now smokedand struggled to burn. If its feeble flame went out, that meantextinction, black and final.

  Then he became aware that Carver was no longer beside him. He whirled.Ten yards behind, the other was bending down, scrabbling frantically inthe dust.

  "I dropped it!" he shouted. "I can't find it!"

  Jerry tried to reach him, but the other thing was quicker. A whirlpoolof blackness engulfed Carver, blotted him out. Then Jerry was confrontedby an unbelievable sight--a great, savage head, towering over him, itseyes glowing redly and foam creaming over gigantic, open jaws.

  * * * * *

  Desperately, he shoved his cross straight at it. The thing spat androared deafeningly. The thud of its paws shook the ground. It lashed outwith monstrous claws that sliced his skin. Half-stunned, Jerry keptlunging toward it, till finally his cross touched its coarse hide. Therewas a crackle of blue flame, a shriek that split the night, and thething disintegrated in roiling clouds of bitter smoke.

  Jerry swayed. The hand that held the cross was numb and tingling. Likean automaton, he turned, went back, and knelt beside the crumpled shapethat had been Mike Carver. Then he rose, still carrying the feeblyflickering torch, and plodded on....

  They met him as he was coming back--Watson, Henderson, Caruso, Miller,Hammond and the rest. They had flashlights and guns and tear gas, andtheir faces were grim and des
perate.

  "We found your car," they said. "We could see the flames from Wide Bend.What in hell has been going on?"

  Jerry stared at them. He dropped the dead torch. One hand tried to putthe cross back into his pocket. His face was black, his hair singed, hisside wet with blood.

  "It's all over," he croaked. "They're gone. Dark Valley is free again."

  _Big Joe Merklos was the first of them. He appeared at the RockyMountain Trust Company one day, cash in hand. The charm of him, hisflashing smile, the easy strength in his big body, were persuasiverecommendations. But the Company's appraisal scarcely got that far.Wasn't he the first buyer they had ever had for that