David Robbins: Boston Run

The front door opened.

“Hello,” Jenny said, greeting him, bravely mustering a wan grin. Her green eyes bored into his blue ones. Luxuriant blonde hair fell past her slim shoulders. She wore a pale green blouse and faded, patched jeans.

“Have you heard any news?”

“That’s why I’m here,” Hickok answered, and rested his hands on the pearl-handled Colt Python revolvers riding in a holster on each hip.

Anxiety contorted Jenny’s face and she placed her hands on his upper arms. “Well?”

“I don’t know how to tell you this,” the gunman said with a heavy heart.

“Out with it,” Jenny urged, shaking him. “Please.”

“All right,” Hickok said, and took a deep breath. “They took him away in a helicopter.”

The words seemed to shrink her before his eyes. She released him, her arms dropping to her sides, her chin drooping to her chest, her posture bowed as if under an enormous weight. “There’s no chance of a mistake?”

she asked almost in a whisper.

Hickok wished that he’d let someone else offer to tell her. “No chance,” he assured her.

“I was afraid of this,” Jenny said.

“It doesn’t mean he’s dead,” Hickok declared, and immediately regretted his rashness when she looked up at him, a haunted aspect to her eyes. He tried to adopt a lighthearted attitude to lessen her remorse. “I reckon I know the Big Dummy as well any anybody, and I know he’ll make it back to us safe and sound.”

“Tell me what you found,” Jenny stated.

“I didn’t find the landing spot myself. The blamed mutants found a field about a mile south of the Home where a helicopter likely landed. At least, from the way all the weeds were bent and broken, and from the impressions left in the soil by the landing gear, we reckon a helicopter was used. We would’ve found the spot sooner, but the varmints who snatched your hubby were pros. They covered their tracks real well. And they sprinkled buck musk along their trail so the mutants couldn’t track them by scent,” Hickok detailed, and frowned. “Heck. It took us four days just to find where the coyotes jumped him.”

“I know,” Jenny said sorrowfully. “I can’t believe he’s been gone a week already.”

“How’s your young’un takin’ it?” Hickok inquired.

“Gabe cried the whole first day, but he’s holding up remarkably well for a boy who isn’t quite five years old,” Jenny replied.

“I saw him playin’ with my sprout a while ago. They were havin’ fun,” Hickok mentioned, hoping to cheer her by discussing their children. The tactic didn’t work.

“Who do you think took him?” Jenny queried, returning to their original subject.

“There’s no way of tellin’,” Hickok said. “You know how many enemies we’ve made ever since we made contact with the outside world. Blade has made more than his share. The Technics, the Superiors, the Guild, the Dragons, the Lords of Kismet, or any one of the other cow chips we’ve stomped are possible suspects. Lynx, Ferret, and Gremlin are still out scourin’ the field. Maybe they’ll find a clue.”

“What if they don’t?”

“Don’t talk like that. The Warriors won’t rest until we discover who took Blade and where they’re holdin’ him.”

Jenny leaned against the jamb and gazed at the trees to the east of the cabin. “I know all of you will try your utmost, and I appreciate your efforts.

But I’m also sensible enough to realize that I may never see my husband again. Like you said, he’s made a lot of enemies. In his capacity as the head of the Warriors, and in his job as the leader of the Force, he’s defeated dozens of power-mongers and crazed killers, some of whom are still alive.”

“They’ll all get theirs one of these days.”

“I miss him,” Jenny declared passionately.

“So do I.”

She closed her eyes and bit her lower lip.

Hickok stared at her in dismay, at a loss to know what to do, deeply affected by her grief. “How about if I send my missus over to sit with you a spell?” he suggested.

“No thanks,” Jenny responded. “I’d rather be alone.”

“You shouldn’t be by your lonesome at a time like this,” the gunman observed. “A person needs friends the most when that person is down in the dumps.”

“Meaning me,” Jenny said.

“If the boot fits,” Hickok joked, then became serious. “We weren’t put on this loco world to be alone; otherwise there wouldn’t be so many folks traipsin’ over the landscape. You have a lot of friends, Jenny, and we’re here if you need us.”

A glimmer of happiness touched her features. “Thanks.”

“So why don’t I have Sherry mosey on over for some chitchat?”

“Are you sure she won’t mind?”

“Are you kiddin’? Sherry will jump at the chance to get out of our cabin.”

Jenny nodded slowly. “Okay. Send her over. I would like someone to talk to.”

“On my way,” Hickok declared, and pivoted to the right. He beamed and waved and ambled around the cabin, bearing to the south. The instant he was out of her sight his expression clouded. He felt like such a hypocrite trying to convince her to look at the bright side of the situation when, in his own heart, he felt they didn’t stand a prayer of locating Blade and bringing him back safely. For one thing, too much time had elapsed since the abduction. For another, whoever took Blade had planned the affair meticulously, which meant they had obviously wanted to specifically grab the head Warrior and no one else. Dozens of Family members used the same route Blade had taken on a daily basis, but the only one kidnapped was him. Why? And who could be behind it?

The gunfighter reflected on the events of the past week as he walked in the direction of his cabin, trying to fit together the pieces of the puzzle for the umpteenth time. Jenny had been right, he decided. It was hard to believe seven days had gone by since his pard disappeared.

The first inkling he’d had that something was wrong came when his stocky Indian friend and fellow Warrior, Geronimo, raced up to his cabin and yelled that Blade hadn’t returned from Halma and was three hours overdue. As Blade’s personal pick to be second-in-command of the Warriors during his absences. Hickok had chosen three other Warriors to accompany Geronimo and himself to the small town located approximately eight miles southwest of the Home. Halma had been abandoned during the war. Six years ago the Family had assisted a large group of refugees from the Twin Cities to settle in Halma, and now the two factions were on the best of terms. The leader of the people in Halma, who called themselves the Clan, was a man named Zahner. Blade and Zahner were close friends. On the day Blade vanished, he’d gone to Halma to visit Zahner.

And never returned.

Hickok selected Beta Triad to help with the search initially. The eighteen Warriors were divided into six Triads of three Warriors apiece.

Alpha, Beta, Bravo, Gamma, Omega, and Zulu Triads were, collectively, the fighting arm of the Family, devoted to safeguarding the Home at all costs. Beta Triad consisted of Rikki-Tikki-Tavi, Yama, and Teucer.

The five of them followed the dirt road connecting the Home to Highway 59, then took 59 south to Halma. A quick check with Zahner revealed Blade had departed almost four hours before the other Warriors got there.

The search was on.

After Hickok, Geronimo, and Beta Triad failed to find any trace of Blade, most of the other Warriors and volunteers from the Home and the Clan combed the countryside until midnight, using lanterns, torches, and the few flashlights in their possession.

It was as if the earth had swallowed the head Warrior up.

The next morning they were right back at the job, using every available person, and although they used a thorough grid pattern to cover the terrain, again nothing was found.