Damballah slid onward, making a mindless circuit of the arena, moving slower and slower. In less than a minute the Snake God had devastated those who worshipped it, and the destruction didn’t stop until Damballah plowed into the Sacred Drum and sounded the resounding beat for the final time. The serpent sagged, its head jutting from the ruptured skin, and expired.
Blade ran to the posts and stopped next to the cat-man. “This is the last time I bring you guys on a mission,” he stated.
Staggered by the snake’s demise, by the havoc, by his own close call, Lynx looked at the giant in confusion. “What? What did you say?”
“I’m not bringing you bozos on another run.”
“Why not?” Lynx asked absently, gazing at Damballah.
A grin creased the giant’s mourn. “Because here I am doing all the work while you three just hang around.”
“Has anyone ever told you that you have a pitiful sense of humor?”
Epilogue
“So what the hell are we doing back here?” Lynx snapped, squinting up at the noon sun. “Unfinished business,” Blade said.
“Gremlin thought we had everything wrapped up, yes?” The humanoid commented.
“Yeah,” Ferret chimed in. “The tonton macoutes who survived have all fled to parts unknown. We freed all the prisoners held in that damn tower, and helped them break into the storehouse so they could arm themselves.
That guy Jerry seems like he knows his business. He’ll make a new leader of the Resistance.”
“Not that they need a Resistance anymore, no,” Gremlin mentioned.
“All I care about is that Eleanore is doing okay,” Lynx said. “A couple of days in bed and more food will have her on her feet in no time.”
Blade nodded. “All in all, a job well done. The people of New Orleans are free at last.” Lynx looked over his left shoulder at the temple, 40 yards to the southwest, and thought of the rotting carcass inside.
“I repeat. What the hell are we doing here?”
The giant was walking up a low mound. He halted on the crest and pointed. “We must dispose of them.”
“Of what?” Lynx snapped testily, then stopped, astounded.
An immense circular depression lay on the other side, formed in the soft grass by the weight of a great body. Lying in the center of the nest were eighteen white eggs, each one a yard in length.
“I found this when I was out searching for a suitable branch to use as a spear,” Blade related.
“Then this means Damballah was a she, yes?” Gremlin queried.
“Maybe. Maybe not,” Blade replied.
“It means there’s another one of those things out there somewhere,” Ferret said, staring out over the bayou.
“And it’s not our worry,” Blade stated. “We’ve already proven Damballah wasn’t a god. Jerry, Eleanore, and the rest will have to exterminate the mate if it ever shows up.”
Lynx gestured at the nest. “Look. Can we get this over with and take off?”
“Something bothering you?” Ferret asked.
“Not a thing,” Lynx answered, a tad nervously. “All the loose ends have been wrapped up.”
Blade drew his Bowies, “Then let’s get to it.”
“Wait a minute,” Lynx said.
“What?”
“There is one item I need cleared up. Have any of you guys ever heard about these geek octopuses—”