David Robbins - Yellowstone Run

He grinned.

Imagine that!

Feeling sorry for that pompous cow chip!

“What can you possibly find amusing at a time like this?”

The gruff question caused Hickok to look up in surprise.

Longat stood a few yards away. He fell in beside the gunman, studying Hickok’s features. “I asked you a question.”

“Get stuffed!”

“Childish hostility is uncalled for.”

“You’re right,” Hickok stated. “You deserve better than hostile words.

You deserve to have your brains blown out.”

The bear-man sighed. “Humans are so predictable. I foolishly believed we might have an intelligent discussion, but I should have known better.”

“What do you want to palaver about?”

“Pala-what?”

“Why do you want to shoot the breeze with me?” Hickok asked suspiciously.

“There are a few questions I need to ask.”

“I figured as much.”

“You did?”

“Yep. I was expectin’ you to torture the information out of us.”

Longat smiled. “How perceptive. Such treatment can still be arranged should you fail to cooperate.”

“I don’t understand.”

The gunfighter smirked. “Get stuffed.”

“You refuse to tell me what I want to know?”

“Bingo. You must have all the smarts in your family. You sure don’t have the looks.”

The mutation glowered for a moment, then unexpectedly chuckled.

“Very well. We’ll play this by your infantile rules. Since you won’t meet me halfway, I’ll call a halt and have the two Indians tied down and chopped into bits and pieces.”

Hickok glanced down at the tomahawk in the creature’s hairy right hand, thinking of the grisly death of Milly Odum. “You would too.”

“Damn straight,” Longat said. “As we have conclusively demonstrated, we of the Breed don’t possess the inconsistent emotional weaknesses so prevalent in you humans.”

“Yeah. I noticed. You’re all rotten to the core.”

“Be nice. What you refer to as rottenness is merely evidence of our superior will to survive. You regard us as callous brutes, when in reality we are simply treating you as you treat the lower animals. We categorically recognize human inferiority and relate to your kind accordingly.”

“One of these days a human will cram those words right down your throat.”

“Who? You?” Longat responded, and laughed. “You’re totally in our power. Your life is in our hands.” He paused. “And if you’re thinking that your giant friend and the one in the red cloak will save you, think again.

They’ve been taken care of.”

Hickok’s pulse quickened. “They have?”

“Yes. I arranged a special reception for your friends in that rocky pass we went through last night. They’re undoubtedly dead by now.”

“Has your reception committee returned yet?”

“Not yet. Why?”

The gunfighter smiled. “Don’t count your chickens until they’re hatched, turkey.”

Longat’s eyes narrowed. “You have a lot of confidence in those two, I take it.”

“In the big guy I do. He’ll make mincemeat out of your precious Breed.”

“The giant is formidable,” Longat conceded. “He’s already killed two of my people.”

“I didn’t blow away those three?” Hickok asked in surprise.

“You flatter yourself. No, you were responsible for slaying just one, which in itself is a remarkable feat. Our superior bodies can withstand more punishment than your frail human physiques.”

“Are you sure you’re not related to Achilles?”

“Who?”

“This guy I know. You and he have a lot in common. You’re both so high on yourselves that your tootsies never touch the ground.”

“I have nothing in common with a lowly human.”

“Don’t bet on it, bucko.”

The mutation gazed at the row of figures moving through the night. “By all rights I should have eliminated every one of you last night. We lost three good fighters and had four others injured. One of them is quite serious.”

“Poor baby,” Hickok said.

“Mock us while you can.”

“I will.”

Longat looked at the Warrior. “I intended to have the Flathead consumed next, but I might change my mind and take you.”

“Don’t do me any favors.”

“Enough idle conversation. Where are you from, Hickok?

From other humans we’ve captured, I know about the general organization of the Federation. Your presence in this region indicates you hail from one of the factions, probably the Civilized Zone. Am I correct?”

The gunman didn’t respond.

Longat hefted the tomahawk. “Don’t push me or the Indians will suffer.”

Hickok knew there was no other choice. He had to give in to the mutation’s demands. But—and at the thought he almost snickered—there was no reason he had to tell the truth. “Yeah. You’re right. My pards and me are from the Civilized Zone.”

“Were you sent after us?”

“Yep.”

“I thought so,” Longat declared with an air of conceit. “Humans are blatantly transparent.”

“What else were you able to figure out?”

“I suspect that your friends and you are simply a scouting party sent ahead of the main force. I’d guess that a large contingent of troops is even now en route to Yellowstone. Am I right?”

“You’re plumb amazing,” Hickok admitted.

Longat smiled. “Trying to thwart my heightened intellect is impossible.

I deduced you were sent by the Civilized Zone after your little group disposed of those scavengers, and I realized a larger force would probably be arriving soon. That’s one of the reasons I decided to return to our valley earlier than I’d originally planned. We’re not ready to take on a Federation army yet. And when we do finally engage the Federation, I want it to be on our terms.”

“Where’s this valley of yours?”

“Mars.”

“Geez. Don’t you even know what planet you’re on?”

“I admire a human who can retain his sense of humor when he’s close to dying.”

Hickok idly gazed to the south, and in the distance he spied an immense body of water, its calm, mirrorlike surface reflecting the moonlight.

Longat looked in the same direction. “Yellowstone Lake.”

“How do you know?”

“Because I consulted an old map of this territory before leaving our valley.”

“You can read?”

“Keep it up.”

“ I do my best.”

“What size is the force sent to find us?”

“Oh, a couple of regiments. About four thousand troops.”

“That many?” Longat said. “What’s the total size of the Federation Army?”

“Five hundred thousand soldiers.”

“That’s impossible!” Longat stated, “You’re lying.”

“I never lie to anyone, or anything, if it means my pards will buy the farm.”

“But there can’t be that many men in the entire Civilized Zone, let alone their Army. You’d have me believe millions of humans live in the Civilized Zone alone?”

“Afraid so.”

“But the Flatheads we captured told us there are only ten thousand soldiers in the Civilized Zone Army.”

“What do they know? The Flatheads are part of the Federation, but they’re not experts on the Civilized Zone. How could they be? The ones you captured, gave you their best guess, but I’m giving it to you straight. Why do you think I kept telling you the Federation will stomp your butts? Who cares if you double or triple your population? Even one hundred thousand of your kind won’t be enough to lick the Federation,” Hickok asserted, pleased at his performance, at the sincerity he managed to convey.

Actually, he didn’t have the slightest idea how big the Civilized Zone Army truly was, but he wanted to make the mutation sweat.