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nged with red and black painted stones in front of the church。 Kip could see shards of timber； clothing； and what looked like shattered sections of the church pews piled in it。 At the fire's base a heap of ashes glowed a bright red…orange； and the heat of it seared his face as he left his vehicle。 He walked around the circle and hammered on the door。 No answer。 Kip knocked again with the strength of anger； the heat touching him like a hand with bright…red nails。 The church windows； like watchful eyes； reflected the flames； and no lights showed through the shutter slats。
〃BONIFACE！〃 Kip called out。
And then； very slowly； the door opened。
Boniface stood before him in a stained white shirt； bright beads of sweat； each one reflecting fire； glistening on his face。 In his eyes the blaze seemed white…hot。 〃Get away from here！〃 he said sharply。 He started to shut the door again； but Kip slammed his arm against it and forced his way in。
The church was filled with the red glow； alive with the frenzied slithering of shadows。 Many of the seats had indeed been torn out as fuel for the flames； and there was an axe propped in a corner。 On the altar were the pots and strange bottles Kip had seen at the jungle ceremony； three or four cheap metal crucifixes hung on the walls； and the floor around the altar was sprinkled with sawdust and ashes。 Kip shook his head and stared at the old man； around Boniface's neck was the glass eye； its pupil a gleaming red circle。
Boniface reached forward and bolted the door； then turned to the constable。 A drop of sweat ran down across his cheek and spattered onto the floor。
〃What are you doing； old man？〃 Kip asked。 〃What's this fire for？〃
〃Get away！〃 Boniface repeated。 〃As quickly as you can！〃
Kip ignored him and walked to the altar； examining the materials spread out there； liquids in bottles and dark things in black pots。 All voodoo things； he remembered； used to municate with the spirit world。 One of the pots had been overturned； an oily…looking liquid spilled from it； a bottle had been thrown against a wall； leaving its remains in red smears on the paint。
〃Get back to your home！〃 Boniface said。 〃Get back to your woman and child！〃
〃What's all this for？〃 he asked； motioning toward the objects。 He was beginning to feel a coldness working its way into him； slowly and insidiously。
Boniface opened his mouth； paused； his eyes fearful and half…crazed。 〃To。。。 keep them away。。。〃 he said； very quietly。
〃Talk sense！〃 Kip said； fighting to hold back his anger。
〃They。。。 fear the fire。 I've been trying to break it。。。 it's too difficult now； and I'm old； and I'm weak。。。 and I'm very tired。。。〃
〃Break it？ Break what； damn it？〃
Boniface started to say something but the words never came。 He seemed to shrivel up； even as Kip watched him； all the life leaving him at once until only a shell of flesh with weary； frightened eyes remained。 He held out a hand to steady himself； leaning on a shattered pew； he sat down； put his face in his hands； and stayed that way for almost a minute。 When he looked up his face was drawn and anxious； as if he'd heard something approaching。 His eyes glittered wildly in the red light and came to rest on Kip's face。 〃Help me；〃 he said in a whisper。 〃Can't you。。。 help me？〃
〃Help you do what？〃
〃It's too late。。。〃 Boniface said； as if he were speaking to himself。 〃I never thought they would。。。〃
〃Listen to me。〃 Kip walked over and stood next to the houngan。 〃Two more people are dead。。。 probably others as well。 I want to know what those things are； and I think you can tell me。〃
〃The boat；〃 Boniface whispered。 〃That beast from Hell。 The Night Boat。 No one can help now。 They're free； I can feel it。 They're free； all of them； and no man can turn them back until they've done what they must do。〃
Kip leaned over the pew； his gaze boring deep。 〃Tell me。〃 The chill inside him made his bones ache。
Drawing a long breath； Boniface put a hand to his face。 The gesture cast a huge shadow on the opposite wall。 He nodded； as if giving himself up to something。 〃The Sect Rouge。 Do you know it？〃
〃Only from hearsay；〃 Kip said。
〃The most powerful and secret society in all the islands。 They use the dark things as their weapons； for power or a price they cause famine and pestilence； they mit murders cold…bloodedly and efficiently。 I know。 Because I was a member of the Haitian Sect Rouge for five years； and in that time I created much that was evil。 I learned the art of fashioning the waxen images of my enemies or those I was paid to assassinate； to slowly force nails one by one through the opening of the mouth； or draw a garotte tight around the throat。 I learned the art of the wanga…poisons…and how to leave a trace of it on a marked man's pillow； or smeared along the rim of a glass； so that death came painfully and stretched into weeks。 I conjured the evil loa； and conspired with them for the souls of my enemies。 I have made a corpse scream for revenge； I have worked the sorcery that transfigures time and breaks the barriers between the living and the dead； and I have unleashed evil things onto this world。
〃I left Haiti in 1937； after the murder of a rival houngan who was threatening to expose my Sect Rouge activities to the local police。 To escape those who would avenge that man's death； I came here。 Those were my days of youth。。。 and strength。 Now I cannot control it。。。 I cannot； and I am very tired。。。〃
〃What are those things from the U…boat？〃 Kip demanded。
The fear had pooled up in Boniface's eyes； now it brimmed over。 〃Think of it。 What would be the most horrible means of execution？ A death by inches； the body and brain starving for air； flesh writhing in total agony。 The minutes stretching into hours； days； years； an eternity of torture。 Flesh drying over bones； intestines hardening； brains and skulls shriveling； nerves screaming in unendurable pain。 No air； no sun； no chance for escape； only the agony and the darkness； each a hideous partner to the other。 But still Death delays its merciful touch； he will not free them until they have paid with their flesh。 Their souls will be trapped within a rotting house； and even after their bodies have begun to fall to pieces there will be no peace。 Not until the decay is plete； or until their black； evil hearts are pierced； or until they are burned into ashes。〃 He lifted his gaze。 〃Half…human； living corpses； driven mad with pain and rage； hungering for the fluids of life in the vain hope their burning will be cooled。 I know。 Because I made them as they are。。。〃
Kip stood motionless； feeling that chill creeping around him。 Shadows flickered huge and monstrous across the walls； diminished； and leaped again。
〃When I came to Coquina in 1937；〃 Boniface said； 〃there was no constable； no officials of the law。 This church was a dilapidated ruin； the Catholic priest had caught the fever and died some months before。 So I set myself up as a minister； it was a logical way to gain some measure of power over the people； and to hide from my Haitian enemies。 The priest hadn't understood their voodoo beliefs； and I found it easy to gain a following。 The people looked t