All of a sudden I’m glad I’m with a cop,’ Jackson said. He shifted the brown bag he held from one arm
to the other. Inside was a small jelly jar filled with holy water wrapped in waxed paper, and a Gideon
Bible.
They stepped inside and Hunton snapped up the light switches by the door. The fluorescents flickered
into cold life. At the same instant the mangler shut off.
A membrane of steam hung over its rollers. It waited for them in its new ominous silence.
‘God, it’s an ugly thing,’ Jackson whispered.
‘Come on,’ Hunton said. ‘Before we lose our nerve.’
They walked over to it. The safety bar was in its down position over the belt which fed the machine.
Hunton put out a hand. ‘Close enough, Mark. Give me the stuff and tell me what to do.’
‘But -‘
‘No argument.’
Jackson handed him the bag and Hunton put it on the sheet table in front of the machine. He gave
Jackson the Bible.
‘I’m going to read,’ Jackson said. ‘When I point at you, sprinkle the holy water on the machine with
your fingers. You say: In the name of the Father, and of the Son, and of the Holy Ghost, get thee from
this place, thou unclean. Got it?’
‘Yes.’
‘The second time I point, break the wafer and repeat the incantation again.
‘How will we know if it’s working?’
‘You’ll know. The thing is apt to break every window in the place getting out. If it doesn’t work the first time, we keep doing it until it does.’
‘I’m scared green,’ Hunton said.
‘As a matter of fact, so am I.’
‘If we’re wrong about the hand of glory -‘
‘We’re not,’ Jackson said. ‘Here we go.’
He began. His voice filled the empty laundry with spectral echoes. ‘Turnest not though aside to idols,
nor make molten gods for yourself. I am the Lord thy God . . . and the land will vomit you out for
having defiled it, as it vomited out nations before you.’ Jackson looked up, his face strained, and
pointed.’ The words fell like stones into a silence that had suddenly become filled with a creeping,
tomblike cold. The mangler remained still and silent under the flourescents, and to Hunton it still
seemed to grin.
Hunton sprinkled holy water across the feeder belt.
There was a sudden, gnashing scream of tortured metal. Smoke rose from the canvas belts where the
holy water had touched and took on writhing, red-tinged shapes. The mangler suddenly jerked into life.
We’ve got it!’ Jackson cried above the rising clamour. ‘It’s on the run!’
He began to read again, his voice rising over the sound of the machinery. He pointed to Hunton again,
and Hunton sprinkled some of the host. As he did so he was suddenly swept with a bone-freezing terror,
a sudden vivid feeling that it has gone wrong, that the machine had called their bluff – and was the
stronger.
Jackson’s voice was still rising, approaching climax.
Sparks began to jump across the arc between the main motor and the secondary; the smell of ozone
filled the air, like the copper smell of hot blood. Now the main motor was smoking; the mangler was
running at an insane, blurred speed; a finger touched to the central belt would have caused the whole
body to be hauled in and turned to a bloody rag in the space of five seconds. The concrete beneath their
feet trembled and thrummed.
A main bearing blew with a searing flash of purple light, filling the chill air with the smell of
thunderstorms, and still the mangler ran, faster and faster, belts and rollers and cogs moving at a speed
that made them seem to blend and merge, change, melt, transmute -Hunton, who had been standing
almost hypnotized, suddenly took a step backwards. ‘Get away!’ he screamed over the blaring racket.
‘We’ve almost got it!’ Jackson yelled back. ‘Why -‘
There was a sudden indescribable ripping noise and a fissure in the concrete floor suddenly raced
towards them and past, widening. Chips of ancient cement flew up in a starburst.
Jackson looked at the mangler and screamed.