Benjamin Ferris

“ They moved about 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 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 had been bone-dry for fifteen years—and a slender stream of clear water spilled into her wooden tub!
Somewhat dazedly, Jerry drove on. He saw more of the Merklos people at other farms. Men were working in the withered orchards. ”

“ The women are the same as the men, the same as the thing that killed Ed. Don't worry about them. Hold the cross in front of you, and for God's sake hang onto 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—bangings 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 the other hand brought the torch down. Blue sparks jumped out at him. ”

“ Jerry met Henderson's glance. "All right," he said. "Let's get the gang together for lunch today."
Sheriff Watson joined them in the back room of 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 it could turn out to be mighty nasty. Hen and I thought it was time to talk it over."
Briefly he recapitulated Dark Valley's reawakening. He described Joe Merklos and his people—their odd clothing, their independence, their alien language.
"Point one," he said, "most people don't like strangers." ”

“ Henderson, who told Jerry Bronson about it, had made an early morning delivery of feed nearby, and driven on to take a look at Merklos' purchase. From the ridge, he viewed Dark Valley's 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.
"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. ”

“ The Carver brothers looked out over Dark Valley and shook their heads. "We've lived alone," Ed said. "We'll fight alone."
When Jerry told the sheriff about the giant spoor, Watson gave a derisive snort. "Those old coots got bats in their belfries!" ”

“ Jerry finally banged on the table with a sugar bowl. "Let's hear from the sheriff."
Watson hoisted his big frame, and sighed. "Jerry's right, boys. We got a nasty situation building up. Right now, my old woman's so mad at the Dark Valley people she could spit. And why? Only because she can't figger 'em out."
He brushed his mustache and looked at Tipton. "Them people are human bein's, ain't they?" ”

“ Jerry's thoughts kept returning to the water in that first pump. Could it be that they had learned the valley had a supply again? That would be a mighty joke on Hammond and the First National Bank.
The road, badly rutted by erosion and drifted over with sand and dry leaves, began to rise. Jerry shifted into low gear. Then, suddenly, he stopped. He'd had another shock. ”

“ The smile lingered on his face. "We are a careful people. We plan a long way ahead."
Watson opened his mouth for another question—and shut it. Merklos' 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 swiftly away.
Wordlessly, Jerry and the sheriff got back in the car. "Could you hear what he was listening to?" Jerry muttered.
"I didn't hear a thing."
"Notice anything else about Dark Valley?"
Watson shook his head.
"No flowers. Not one dog." ”

“ Said water in the forks is way down."
"He's right."
"Said people were gettin' the idea Dark Valley was livin' off the rest of the land. Feedin' on it, like 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 'a been dead if a critter ever was. Then I seen it go after Ed."
"You know what all this means, don't you? Witchcraft. Something people haven't believed in for hundreds of years." ”

“ Jerry sighed inwardly. "Maybe. They look like hard workers."
The Carver brothers cackled suddenly. "They better be! To farm that land."
Jerry passed back through the valley. A man knocking out stumps waved to him. A woman in a barnyard swished out her big skirts, shooing chickens. ”

“ 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 he met Watson, talking to a farmer on the courthouse steps.
"Listen to Carson, here," the sheriff said grimly.
Carson's straw hat bobbed as he talked. "I'm waitin' to see the farm adviser. Somethin's gone wrong out at my place on the South Fork. I'm on good bottom land—highest yield in the county. But in the last two, three weeks my corn, my wheat, even my berries has stopped growin'!" ”

“ Jerry said mildly.
One of them—he thought it was Ed—spat.
"Ah, now," Jerry went on in an 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.
"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 been here forty years," said Ed. ”

“ Believe me, boys, the only thing to get excited about is the stuff that's missin'. If they're pinchin' it, we can catch 'em, and punish 'em. They may be foreigners but they sure as hell have to obey the law of the land! ”