The Invaders - Benjamin Ferris

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Episode Transcript

Speaker 1 (00:00):
The Invaders by Benjamin Ferris. Big Joe Merculous was the
first of them. He appeared at the White Bend National
Bank one day, cash in hand. The charm of him,
his flashing smile, the easy strength in his big body
were pervasive recommendations. But the banks of praisal scarcely got

(00:22):
that far. Wasn't he the first fire in fifteen years
for that bone yard of lonely dreams? Dark Valley, the
county seat of Wide Bend, presided over three valleys corresponding
to the forks of the Salamook River. Once Dark Valley
had been the richest of these, solid houses and barns

(00:43):
stood among orchards laden with fruit fields chalked full of
heavy bearded green. Till one spring the middle fork of
the river had dried up. The farmers called in specialists
who sank wells in pilot holes measured the slopes. They
heard much talk about water tables, about springs undercutting rock formations,

(01:04):
But when it was done, the fact remained. Dark Valley's
water supply was choked off beyond man's ability to restore it.
In the end, the farmers gave up. They left their
dusty houses and shriveled orchards and dark valley died. Boys
hiked over there. Occasionally men scouted for fence posts or pipe.

(01:24):
Young couples passed quickly through on moonlight nights, and at
least two stubborn old timers squatted at the upper end.
Now that Joe Merculos had bought it, of course they
would have to move. Whill, wouldn't they, Henderson asked. Jerry
Bronson looked around at the other members of the White
ben Businessman's Club. Doesn't take a lawyer to answer that.

(01:45):
Hen damned shame, said Curso, the barber, who always championed underdogs.
They've had no equity in that land for years. The
bank just let them stay on it. They can move
over the hill. Jerry nodded. Somebody ought to suggest that
to them. Don't look at me, Carso said. Those old
coots ain't been near my shop for years. When the

(02:08):
chuckles died, McAlister, the Druggist voiced the thought that rested
unspoken on all their minds. I wonder if that fellow
realizes what a worthless piece of land he's bought. He
looked over it. This was Hammond of the bank. Course,
you didn't try to talk him out of it, would
you have? Hammond retorted indignantly. Henderson jabbed the air with

(02:29):
his cigar. I think he was a coal miner back east,
saved up his money to get on the land. I
think he's a gypsy. Carsu said, you ought to know.
Tipton the grocer laughed. Caruso got fined for his reply,
and with the tinkle of coins in the luncheon club kitty,
the men disappeared. Joe mrcalo's relatives arride that night. Henderson,

(02:53):
who told Jerry Bronson about it, had made an early
morning delivery of feed nearby and driven on to take
a look at Murpho's purchase. From the river. He viewed
dark valleys three miles of width and six or so
of length. Figures were moving about the gaunt and windowless
farm buildings. At least one plow was in operation, and
the good blue friendliness of smoke arose here and there.

(03:16):
Looked like a lot of people, Jerry, But you know,
I didn't see any cars or trucks around. Jerry's blue
eyes crinkled. Human nature didn't like puzzles any more than
it liked strangers. He returned to the tedious civil case
he was working on. About three o'clock, he decided he
was tired and bored enough to call the day. He
got into his car and headed for Dark Valley. Aside

(03:39):
from his curiosity, he thought he might talk to the
two old squatters at the far end. The carvers were
independent and trusulent. Now that Joe Murcose relatives had arrived
in full force, there was a danger of a clash.
As the road topped the bridge, it left green fields
and orchards abruptly behind. But Dark Valley had a wild
sort of beauty, cupped as it was between two rows

(04:02):
of hills while curved together as higher jumbled foothills to
the west. Jerry's car trailed a plume of dust as
it slid down to the dry river bed. He made
a left turn and started up the valley road. At
the first farm, he saw dark, plump women in billowing
dresses wearing peasant scarves over their heads. They moved a

(04:23):
bed the barnyard, raking dead leaves and scratching busily at
the baked earth of the old truck gardens. Chickens and
ducks strayed, and Jerry caught a glimpse of the children.
He waved to the group and was answered by nods
and flashing smiles. Then he had a shock. One of
the women was working the handle of a pump that

(04:44):
had been bone dry for fifteen years, and a slender
stream of clear water spilled into a wooden tub. Somewhat dazedly,
Jerry drove on. He saw more of the Mercalos people
at other farms. Men were work working in the withered orchards.
New fence posts and rails were going up. Bright axes

(05:05):
flashed in the dry and scraggly Jerry's thoughts kept returning
to the water in that first pump. Could it be
that they had learned the valley how to supply again?
That would be a mighty joke on Hammond In the
first National Bank, the road, badly rutted by erosion and
drifted over with sand and dry leaves, began to rise.

(05:26):
Jerry's shifted into low gear. Then suddenly he stopped. He'd
had another shock. He had just realized this road was unused.
He recalled the twin ruts patterned with rabbit and bird
tracks clear back to the turn off. Without question. His
car had been the first to mark the road since winter? Then,

(05:46):
how had these dozens of people come with their chickens
and ducks and children and tools. He had seen no cars,
no wagons, no carts. How would these people come? Jerry
sat back in the seat and grinned fist out his
tobacco pouch and filled his pipe. There were times when
he considered himself fairly mature, fairly well balanced. Yet he

(06:08):
was as ready as the next to build a house
of mystery out of the insubstantial timber of ignorance. Of course,
there was a reasonable explanation. They must have walked from
the railroad. It was a good many miles, but it
was perfectly possible. Feeling better, Jerry followed the tortureous road
to the western Crest. His long legs hadn't taken him

(06:29):
far from the car when he heard a harsh hold up.
First one, then the other. Carver brothers stepped out from
a scrub oak thicket. Short, leathery old men with ragged
whiskers and dirt seamed into their faces and wrists. They
eyed him malevolently over raised shotguns. He came to talk
to you, Jerry said mildly one of them. He thought

(06:53):
it was Ed's spat ah. Now, Jerry went on in
aggrieved tone. That's a fine way to treat a son
of Jack Bronson. The Carver brothers glanced at one another,
then the shotguns lowered. Come along, they said, gruffly. In
the littered yard by their cabin. They pointed to a
bench and squatted down before it on their thin old shanks.

(07:14):
New people in dark valley, They nodded. They've bought it
from the bank. They own it clear to the ridge line,
including your place here. We've been here forty years, said Ed.
If I owned it, you could stay forty more. They
send you. The voice was sharp, suspicious. Jerry shook his head.
I just thought you'd like to know about it. For

(07:35):
a couple of minutes, the Carver brothers chewed tobacco in unison.
They stood up, reached for their guns. We'll see, they said.
Jerry nodded. They walked beside him, kicking thoughtfully at the leaves.
The brother named Mike rubbed his whiskers. Get much of
a look at him when you passed through Some they foreigners,
Jerry sighed inwardly. Maybe they look like hard workers. The

(08:00):
Trever brothers cackled. Suddenly, they'd better be to farm that land.
Jerry passed back through the valley, A man knocking out
stunt's waved to him. A woman in a barn yard
swished out her big skirch, shewing chickens. At that first farm,
a trickle of water still ran from the pump. Wide
bend was a normal community along with it. In natural curiosity,

(08:22):
there was a genuine feeling of neighborliness, heightened by the
conviction that these hard working strangers had thrown their money
away on the hopeless venture. So one way and another,
a fair percentage of the town's population found excuses in
the next few days to get out to Dark Valley.
Bit by bit, the reports filtered back to Jerry, and

(08:42):
they all added up about the same. Joe Mercilus and
his people were incredibly industrious already. They had cleaned up
the yards, repaired sagging barns and roofless sheds, curtains flooded
at the windows, cows had appeared, and sheep even a
few small horses. Somehow, perhaps from accumulated seepage, they were

(09:03):
still bringing water from the rusty pumps, And though it
was surely an illusion, Dark Valleys seemed to have taken
on a tinge of green again. White Ben's women folk
brought gifts of homemade preserves, jelly canned vegetables, and came
away puzzled. No, they hadn't been badly received. All was
politeness and smiles, But there was well a sort of

(09:25):
remoteness about these people. The kids went out of sight
the minute you turned into a place, and you just
couldn't get close to the grown ups. Dark they were
and heavy looking. They smiled a lot, jabbering an unknown language.
They had beautiful white teeth, but no jewelry or ornaments,
such as gypsies might wear. They always appeared pleased that

(09:47):
you had brought them something, but on the way home
you discovered you still had your presence after all. The
best guest says to the number in the tribe. Somehow,
that seemed the best way to describe them was sixty
take a few. The general verdict was expressed by Henderson
at the next club luncheon. They're odd, but they're hard workers.

(10:08):
Darned good thing for the community. Miller the jeweler agreed vigorously.
Self interest Jerry murmured, it is a wonderful thing. They
turned on him. They haven't bought a thing from us?
What if they did? Kidding boys, I've got something to
sell too. Then Jerry frowned, they haven't bought anything around

(10:28):
the table head shook. Probably, Carcro growled, they wear their
hair long too. In the laughter, the matter was forgotten,
but Jerry remembered it that night, sitting on the porch
of his house. There must have been hundreds of items
tools and nails and hinges, and glass and wire and
sandpaper and oil and rope and seed and salt and

(10:50):
sugar that tribe needed. How could they? There was a
step on the path. You there, Carcerro called, yep. The
barber sat in the other hoisted his feet to the railing.
You know how kids are. That boy of mine. He
couldn't stand about dark valley. He was out there with
a couple of pals poking around. Yes, Jerry didn't realize

(11:13):
his voice was sharp. Oh, no trouble. But the middle
fork of the river started to run again. For a
long time after Carcrot had gone, Jerry sat with his
cold pipe in his mouth. There were reasonable explanations for
every one of the small oddities that had cropped up
with Joe Merklos and his people, but he couldn't shake

(11:33):
a growing feeling of uneasiness. Jerry went to bed muttering,
for he was a man well trained to keep a
motion in fact separate, but the feeling was still with
him when he awoke, and he recognized it later on
Henderson's face. We got to get the boys together and
talk this thing over. The feed and fuel owners said,

(11:54):
what's up the stuff that's missing? Jerry gave a start.
He had just spent at least half an hour looking
for this garage lock every day this week. Henderson went
on heavily. I've had people in to replace some little
thing that was lost. Hatchets and feeding troughs and spare
parts and panes of glass and things like that, a
couple of the old chicken broughders that were stored ten

(12:17):
salt blocks Andersen had in his barn. Just then mc
allister stepped over from his drug store to join them.
Damn it, he said, plaintively, dusting off his store jacket.
I've been in the basement the last hour looking for
an old pipe wrench. I swear I left it there.
Jerry met Henderson's glance. All right, he said, let's get

(12:38):
the gang together for some lunch. Today, Sheriff Watson joined
them in the back room the restaurant. When the coffee came,
Jerry rose to explain the purpose of the meeting. Our problem,
he began, may amount to nothing at all, or could
turn out to be mighty nasty. Hen and I thought
it was time to talk it over. Briefly, he recapulated

(12:59):
Dark Valley's reawakening. He described Joe Mercalos and his people,
their odd clothing, their independence, their alien language. Point one,
he said, most people don't like strangers. He described the
tribe's arrival without cars of wagons, without even a mark
on the abandoned road. He spoke of the pumps that
came to life, the river that now ran again. Progress

(13:22):
the tribe had made seemed almost beyond human capacity. Point two,
Jerry said, most people don't like mysteries. He turned okay. Hen. First,
Henderson explained that none of the tribe had bought supplies
of any kind in West Bend. He got corroboration from
other business men present. Then, as he summarized the missing articles,

(13:46):
heads began to nod, faces got red, and lists were clenched.
Jerry got to his feet again. Point three I don't
need to spell out much more of this than carloads
of men with guns will be heading for that ridge.
They'll be the kind to trouble we don't want on
wide Ben's conscious. Should we let him rob us blind?
Shouted Tipton, No wonder they do so good? Cursio cried,

(14:09):
how about the water? Hammond asked sarcastically, you think they
stole that too? Someone showed it back, and a heated
discussing raged. Jerry finally banged on the table with the
sugar bowl. Let's hear from the sheriff. Watson hoisted his
big frame inside Jerry's right. Boys, we got a nasty
situation building up right now. My old woman's so mad

(14:33):
at the dark valley people she could spit. And why
only because you can't figure him out. He brushed his
mustache and looked at Tipton. Them people are human beings,
aren't they. Tipton scowled but nodded. Anything they'd done that
couldn't be explained by natural causes, no matter how silly
or complicated. Tipton thought about it and had to shake

(14:54):
his head. Believe me, boys, the only thing to get
excited about is the stuff that's missing. If they're pinchin it,
we can catch 'em and punish 'em. They may be foreigners,
but they sure as hell how to obey the law
of the land. Now, Hammond said, we're talking scents. Give
me a list of what's missing. Watson added, and I'll

(15:16):
go to Dark Valley this afternoon and take a look
around the place. Everybody satisfied, Jerry asked, everybody was, Sheriff
Watson frowned at the list. As Jerry drove into the
first barnyard, they scattered. Chickens, ducks, and children seemed blurrily
as they scrambled to hide. They remained a few minutes,
then went on to the next farm, and the next beyond.

(15:39):
The last one. On the rise that led to the
Carver cabin, Jerry stopped the car. They looked at one another.
Watson rubbed his face irritably. I beat, Jerry, there's something here.
I can't get my hands gnore my head onto I know.
The sheriff banged one hand against the crumpled list. That
butter churn of Mulford's. By god, I saw it, same brands,

(16:01):
same color, even had scratches around the base. With that
old cat had sharpener claws, I know, Jerry said, again,
but it had a letter Z cut into it, worn
and weathered, so you'd swear it to have been there
for years and years. That spring tooth herald of Zimmermann's,
except the one we saw had twelve teeth instead of fifteen,

(16:22):
and even the man who made it couldn't find where
it had been altered or tampered with. It had been
the same with a score of other things, each one
slightly changed, just different enough to make identification impossible to prove. Slowly,
Jerry said, wood gets weathered, metal oxidizes. Honest, where is i'mmistakable?
And these all take time which can't be faked. His

(16:45):
implication hung in the air. If the things had been
stolen then altered to avoid identification, whoever did it had
more than human ability, magic, Watson wondered, there's no such thing. No,
they're absolutely ain't. They sat looking with troubled eyes out
over dark valley till Jerry said abruptly, I'm going on

(17:07):
up to see the carvers watch, and reached for the
door handle. They don't have no use for me. I'll
wait here. I got plenty to think of it, Jerry nodded.
The sheriff would be remembering the seeds already sprouting in
the kitchen gardens, the leaves that had jumped out of
the old fruit trees, the lambs and calves capering in
pastures washed with the green of new grass. The road

(17:30):
was smooth, its stitches cleared and deepened. Bright clothing napped
on shiny new clothes lines. Those run a list, But
how can you identify a roll of wire? Cordwood was
stacked in every yard. New shingles spotted the roofs, the
windows hauled glass again. Fresh paint glistened on porches. In

(17:51):
the fields, corner notes and hay were shooting upward. Jerry
found the carvers waiting for him, three wrinkled old faces tents.
They didn't answer his greeting, just jerked their heads. They
led him past the cabin, threw open breast, and halted
at the bear's place. Slowly, Jerry sank to his knees.

(18:13):
Except for its size, it could have been a sprayed
out cougarprint, but it was two feet across and pressed
wood an inch into the hard dry soil. Finally, ed
carver nudged Jerry. The gnarled finger pointed to a twig
of wild lilac eight feet off the ground. Caught on
the twig were several coarse black hairs six inches long.

(18:35):
Jerry looked from them back to the Carvers, then down
at the ground again. He didn't speak, what was there
to say. As they started back toward the cabin, Ed
Carver said, harshly, we found that two nights ago. Jerry
brooded for some distance. Then he said, ned Ames has

(18:56):
the best hunting dogs in the country. They looked at him, discussed,
damn it, you have to do something. Come back to
town with me. We'll get some boys together and hunt
it down. They passed the cabin and reached the car
The Carver brothers looked out over dark valley and shook
their heads. We've lived alone, Ed said, we'll fight alone.

(19:16):
When Jerry told the sheriff but the Giant's boor, Watson,
gave a snort. Those old coots got bats in their
belly fries. But I saw the print. Watson dismissed such
evidence with a wave of his hand. They made it
up proudly. Forget it till you see the animal itself.
You'll have time to believe it. Then we got enough

(19:37):
worry about already. Jerry couldn't forget it, but there was
a kind of reassurance in such hearty skepticism. With each
passing minute, that huge print seemed more unreal. Half way
through the valley, they stopped to look at the river.
The bed was half full muddy debris, laden with a
sheen of dust on the surface, but it was water, wet, tangible, undeniable.

(20:00):
Watching took off his hat and rubbed his head and swore,
good afternoon. They turned Joe Mrcalos was smiling at them. Hello,
Jerry said, Watching glowered. Mircalos moved beside them and looked down.
His brilliant teeth flashed. Good is it not? The guttorial
words came out flat, one at a time, as though

(20:21):
shaped carefully, better than money in this part of the world.
Jerry's eyes narrowed. Did you know about the water when
you bought the valley? Mercalos smiled again. He was bare headed,
dressed in dark trousers and a loose, short sleeved blouse.
His neck and muscular forearms gleamed bronze in the sunlight.
You like what we do here, he asked, in his deep,

(20:43):
hesitant manner, you've done wonders, Watson said shortly. Mircalo's smoky
eyes held Jerry's. My people are used to work slowly significantly,
Watson said. The thing we don't understand is how you
managed to bring so much equipment, the exact things you needed,
right down to the last nail. Mrcalo's inscrutable gaze swung around,

(21:05):
the smile lingered on his face. We are careful people,
We plan a long way ahead. Watson opened his mouth
for another question and shut it. Mrcilo's attention had left them.
The man was listening, his head slightly cocked. After a moment,
he turned. I am happy to see you making a visit.
I hope you come again. He nodded and walked away swiftly, wordlessly.

(21:30):
Jerry and the sheriff got back into the car. Could
you hear what he was listening to? Jerry muttered, I
didn't hear a thing. Notice anything else about dark Valley?
No flowers, not one dog. Jerry's hand tightened on the
steering wheel. And who has ever gotten a single clear
look at one of the kids. Jerry spent a restless
night on the way to his office. The next morning,

(21:52):
he met Watson talking to a farmer on the court
house steps. Listen to Carson here, the sheriff said grimly.
Carson's straw hat bobbed as he talked. I'm waiting to
see the farm advisor. Something's gone wrong out at my
place on South Fork. I'm on good bottom land, highest
yield in the county. But in the last two three weeks,

(22:13):
my corn, my wheat, even my berries has stopped growing.
Jerry's eyes jumped to Watson. Yep, Carson went on, every
single eero corn is still a nublin. He threw out
his arms, and by God, even my wife's ratites has
stood still. Ain't anything on earth that'll slow up a radish.
How about other stuff? How about eggs? Same thing cut

(22:36):
right down, Hens lay one in ten now maybe, same
thing cut right down hens lay one in ten maybe.
And my alfalfa has turned to funny gray green, even
the fruit. What about the river? Watson broke in? What
about the river? Watson broke in. You still got water
in the South Fork, way down for this time of year,
but we got enough. Several people had stopped to listen.

(22:59):
One of them, a big tow headed swede, burst out
excitedly mister, you got the same trouble as my cousin
his crops. They're grown backwards. There was more of the
same impossible talk. Jerry made an excuse to get away
to his office. He sat at his desk and stared
at the window. There wasn't any problem, he tried to
tell himself. Anything he could not measure by experience and

(23:23):
logic was out. And that had to include giant paw
prints and mysteriously missing objects, as well as ratices that
wouldn't grow. Dark Valley was taking on life and freshness. Fact.
The South Fork and portions of the North Fork seemed
to be losing fertility. Fact. But to conclude from this
that Dark Valley was gaining at the expense of the others.

(23:43):
That was the road no reasonable man could allow himself
to take. From his window, he saw the huge old
trees that shaded wide bend. They looked suddenly wrong. Weren't
they less green, less thick than before? The buildings and
streets looked dingier too, And when did all all those
broken fences, cracked windows, missing shingles show up? Jerry louns

(24:05):
from his chair and strode up and down the room.
Then the telephone bell tore through his nerves. He grabbed
the instrument. Watson, I just wanted to tell you two
boys have been reported missing, No the Simon's kids, but
they've run away before they'll be back. Jerry's hand went
slowly down. The Sheriff's voice echoed hollowly from the lowered receiver.

(24:27):
Well won't they It was after midnight when the doorbell rang.
It didn't wake Jerry. He was sitting in bed, staring
into the darkness. There was a pile of books beside him.
He knocked them over. Getting up to answer the door,
Mike Carver stumbled in. He dropped into a chair, panting.
Jerry went for a bottling glass. Carver gulped the drink,

(24:47):
then held the tumbler out for another. I run all
the way down the ridge, he gasped, till I catched
a ride. I figured you'd ought to know what happened.
It got my brother ed. Jerry's lean face hardened. Yeah,
it was prowling around. We went after it and shot it.
But you said, I said it killed ed. The old
lips tightened. We gave it one slug through the heart

(25:10):
and one through the head. They didn't even slow it down.
You mean, Jerry asked carefully that they didn't have an
effect at all. Mike nodded. He tipped the glass, whipped
his ragged sleeve across his face, and rose, where are
you going back to the cabin, Mike? You can't go there.
That's where my brother's body is. Look, Joe said evenly.

(25:31):
You can't help him. Now stay here with me and
we'll go up in the morning. Carver shook his head.
My brother's there at the cabin. I got to set
up with him. There was no arguing against the tone
of simple and other finality. All right, wait till I
get some clothes on and I'll drive you back a
few minutes later they passed through West Bend's deserted streets

(25:53):
and started out the road to the valley. Carver rolled
down his window and spat tobacco juice. Fella was up
to see us, he said, told us people were losing
things all over the county, including two kids. Said, crops
are shrunk, said water and the forks is way down.
Said people were getting the idea dark valley was living
off the rest of the land, feeding on it like

(26:14):
a parasite. How crazy you think that is? Slowly Jerry said,
I'm not sure it's crazy at all. Carver brooded. I
shot that thing tonight should have been dead. If a
critter it was, then I seen it go after ed.
You know what all this means, don't you? Witchcraft? Something
people haven't bleed in for hundreds of years. Maybe they

(26:36):
better get starting again. They were nearing the divide that
overlooked Dark Valley. Mike, I've been 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
thing existed. But it was either acknowledged that or lose
my mind. The night seemed colder as they started downward. Unaccountably,

(26:58):
the headlights dimmed. Something watching its, Carver said suddenly. As
the car bored on through the thick and swerving 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

(27:18):
there was only a shallow rut deformed by shadows. He
pressed the accelerator and the motor died. Hurriedly, he jabbed
the starter button, pumped the gas pedal again. He pushed
it and again, as the lights faded from the drain
on the battery. What's the matter, Carver's old voice was thin, flooded.
Maybe better lighters. Sit a minute. The darkness pressed close

(27:41):
around them, shifted and danced. Chill air moved 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 his
shirt pocket and held it out. Jerry's fingers moved over it.
A crucifix. My mother gave it to me a long
time ago. That's probably the only thing that could have

(28:03):
saved you from what I read. They can't stand across,
and silver's got something to do with it. 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 silver tray. Not fancy,
but it was all I had you done that before
I came and told you about ed. Jerry nodded grimly.

(28:26):
I'm convinced, rough against something terrible, and believe me, Mike,
I'm scared. The shadows grew closer, thicker still they seemed
charged with menace. With a catch in his voice, Jerry said,
maybe now it's the time to try it. Carver's head
jerked around. I mean smashed Mercolos and his tribe for good?

(28:47):
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 fire from the first farm. We can go
right out the valley if it works, and if it don't,
we might end up like Ed. Carver turned and spat
at the window. I don't want to, but I will.

(29:08):
They got out of the car into the humming darkness.
They took gunnysacks and rags from the trunk compartment and
soaked them in oil. From the crank case. They wired
a bundle on the extension handle of the jack and
another on the radio aerio rod, which Jerry unscrewed. They
tried to start the car once more, without success, so
they turned out the lights and left it with one

(29:29):
torch burning. They started out the road for the first gate.
Dark valleys, shadowy legions closed in. There was a rustling
and a whispering all around that there were shiny glints
where none ought to be. There was no overwhelming feeling
that something frightful waited just beyond the edge of darkness
the gate, Carver said hoarsely. Jerry unclenched his jaws and
lit the second torch. The flare ut reflected from the

(29:52):
blank windows ahead. What about the women, What about the kids,
Jerry spoke jerkily, his eyes on the house. There aren't
any kids. What we saw was something else. The women
are the same as the men, the same as the
thing that killed d Don't worry about them. Hold the
cross in front of you, and for God's sake, hang

(30:13):
on to it. The darkness swelled like a living thing.
It swayed and clutched at the torches. Somewhere, a high
whining began, like a keening wind. There were sudden sounds
from the house, banging and scramblings. Carver faltered on, Jerry
said savagely, and began to run. He touched his home
made crucifix to the wood of the porch, and with

(30:34):
the other hand brought the torch down. Blue sparks jumped
out at him. The dry wood hissed and blazed up furiously.
A frightful scream rang out. There was the twinkle of
breaking glass, and formless figures studded to the ground and
scuttled away on all fours headed up the valley. Within minutes,
the farmhouse was a mass of roaring flame. Jerry backed

(30:55):
away from it. He saw Carver outlined against the glowing
barn which he had fired. They came together and hurried
back to the road. There they stopped 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, women and kids, Carver said, bitterly. Did you
see them things that came out? Yes. Jerry was drenched

(31:17):
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.
While the shadows pulsed in an unholy turmoil. The knight
sworn with malignant and visible forces that tried to blow
the flame from their torches, that flayed them with naked
sword of fear. There were hideous shapes half seen. There

(31:39):
were ways of terror, like a physical shock. There were
puffsive odors so ranked they gagged, but they plodded through it,
faces set, sweating, and agonized till halfway up the valley
it came Carver knew at first, his leathery face paled.
His hands fumbled instinctively for the gun. He was not caring.
Then Jerry said, hoarsely, Mike, did you hear that? Carvor

(32:00):
nodded dumbly clearly. Now came the sound of those huge
paws paddling, first on one side of them, then the other.
Jerry clutched his cross till the rough edges bit deep
into his hand. It seemed that his very life was
bound up with the torch that now smoked and struggled
to burn. If its feeble light went out, that meant extinction,

(32:20):
black and final. Then he became aware that Carver was
no longer beside him. He whirled ten yards behind. The
other was bending down, scrambling frantically in the dust. I
dropped it, he shouted, I can't find it. Jerry tried
to reach him, but the other thing was quicker. A
whirlpool of blackness and gulfed Carver blotted him out. Then

(32:41):
Jerry was confronted by an unbelievable sight, a great savage
head towering over him, its eyes glowing readily, and foam
creaming over gigantic open jaws. Desperately, he shuved his gross
straight at it. The thing spat and roared deafeningly. The
thud of its paws shook the ground. It lashed out
with monstrous claws that sliced his skin. Half stunned, Jerry

(33:05):
kept lunging towards it till finally his cross touched its
coarse hide. There was a crack of a blue flame,
a shriek that split the night, and the thing disintegrated
into rolling clouds of bitter smoke. Jerry swayed. The hand
at held the cross was numb and tingling like an automation.
He turned, went back and knelt beside the crumpled shape
that had been Mike Carver. Then he rose, still carrying

(33:28):
the feebly, flickering torch, and plodded on. They met him
as he was coming back, Watson, Henderson, Corsio, Miller, Hammond
and the rest. They had flashlights and guns and tear gas,
and their faces were grim and desperate. We found your car,
they said. We could see the flames from wide bend.
What in the hell has been going on? Jerry stared
at them. He dropped the dead torch one hand, tried

(33:51):
to put the cross back in his pocket. His face
was black, his hair singed, his side 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 Rocky Mountain Trust Company one day,
cash in hand. The charm of him, his flashing smile,

(34:12):
the easy strength, and his big body were persuasive recommendations,
but the company's appraisal scarcely got that far. Wasn't he
the first buyer they had ever had for that suburban
real estate fiasco hidden acres end of the invaders