David Robbins - Memphis Run

“Then we should head for the estate,” Blade declared.

“The King’s estate is guarded better than the Complex,” Bonnie noted.

“You’ll never sneak in there.”

“You let us worry about that problem,” Blade said. “For now, we’ll stroll around downtown Memphis. The Hounds might be expecting an attack at the estate or the Complex. If we delay a bit, they’ll slack off and make our job easier.” He nodded directly ahead. “Lead the way. You can give us a guided tour of the inner city.”

“We could run into trouble,” Bonnie predicted.

“Nothin’ I can’t handle,” Hickok said.

Bonnie shrugged and walked to the end of the block, then took a left. At the next intersection she turned right, then traveled two blocks. Voices arose, a jumble of conversations, men and women talking and laughing, children playing.

Blade quickly looped the sergeant’s gunbelt around his waist above his own belt and fastened the buckle. He aligned the holsters just behind his Bowies, and looked up as they rounded a corner.

The avenue they were entering was packed with people, most of whom were grungy and wore attire in need of repair. Pedestrians crammed the thoroughfare, while on the sidewalks were dozens of booths where shady characters hawked everything under the sun. Haggling and arguments were commonplace.

“Wow!” Chastity exclaimed. “Look at all of them.”

“You stay close to me,” Hickok advised, slinging the M-16 over his right shoulder and taking her hand in his.

A few of the milling crowd gazed at the newcomers, but the majority went about their business.

“I’ll stick out like a sore thumb,” Hickok remarked.

“I see other men in buckskins,” Blade mentioned, surveying the populace. “Why will you appear any different than them?”

“I took a bath yesterday.”

Blade stepped alongside Bonnie. The four of them strolled along the avenue observing the swirl of humanity, alert for Hounds. “I didn’t realize there were so many people in Memphis,” Blade commented. “Where did they all come from?”

“From all over the Outlands,” Bonnie answered. “A lot have arrived in the past month or so, and I’ve heard that many more are on the way.”

“Why would they come here?” Blade queried. “Memphis doesn’t have a lot to recommend it.”

“Memphis has the Hounds,” Bonnie said, “and most of the men arriving here hope to become Hounds. A lot of the people are related to Hounds.

Some come because living in the city beats living in the woods. Others want to get in on the ground floor. They expect Memphis to grow like crazy as the Hounds conquer more and more territory.”

“How much territory do the Hounds intend to conquer?” Blade asked idly.

“The whole world.”

Blade began laughing, but ceased when he realized she was serious.

“The Hounds plan to conquer the world?”

“The King does. He told me so himself when he invited me over for a candlelit, romantic supper three nights ago,” Bonnie said bitterly.

Blade remembered her earlier comment and put two and two together.

“There’s no need to go into that, if you don’t want—”

“I want to tell you,” Bonnie said, cutting him off. “I want you to know the kind of bastard you’re dealing with.”

“I can imagine,” Blade assured her.

Bonnie glanced over her right shoulder at Hickok and Chastity, who were ambling eight feet away. She stared straight ahead somberly. “I never thought it would happen to me.”

Blade did not respond.

“I mean, I heard all the tales floating around,” Bonnie said softly. “I heard that every month or so the King would have the Hounds scour the city for a bed partner, but I never expected I would be picked.”

“There’s really no need to discuss this,” Blade reiterated.

“Please, let me finish,” Bonnie requested. “I have to get this off of my chest. I’ve told no one the full story.” She paused. “I couldn’t even bring myself to confide completely in Clyde. I told him bits and pieces, but I knew he’d go off the deep end if I gave him every little detail. I didn’t want him storming to the estate and getting murdered by those sons of bitches.”

“The Hounds took you to the King?”

“Yeah. I was on my way home with a few strips of venison jerky I’d traded for, when this Hound patrol stopped me and I was ordered to go with them.”

“What do you do?”

“At first, I didn’t know what was going on. The captain in charge was a tight-lipped scumbag. I didn’t catch on until we were near the King’s mansion.”

“Did you resist?”

“Damn right I did, once I saw where they were taking me. I screamed and demanded to be let go, but the captain had me carried the rest of the way. I’d never met the King, and I wasn’t about to let the prick paw all over me,” Bonnie detailed. “But before I knew it, there I was in the King’s mansion.”

“Did they tie you up?”

“No,” Bonnie answered. “They didn’t need to tie me. There were six guards on the front steps, and I saw other Hounds on the estate and in the mansion. There was nowhere I could go.”

“Were you locked in the King’s bedroom?” Blade questioned.

“No. Nothing like that. The captain left me inside the front door. I was waiting there, nervous as all hell, when the King came down the stairs.

Man, was he something, all decked out in a black uniform with gold buttons and braid, and enough medals to gag a horse. He was all smiles and polite as could be. I told him that I didn’t want to be there, that there must be some mistake.”

“What did he say?”

“The bastard was slick as shit. He apologized for his men. then invited me to stay for supper. Claimed it was the least he could do,” Bonnie said, and frowned. “I should have said no right then, but he was so nice, so—charming—I was sucked right into his trap. I agreed to stay for supper.”

“What happened then?”

“The King took me on a personal tour of his mansion. Blade, I never imagined such wealth existed. He has fancy furniture, carpets thicker than grass, paintings and drapes and even a damn chandelier. And his throne room! The man has a gold-plated throne! I’ve got to admit it. I was really impressed.”

“Did you like him?”

Bonnie scowled. “Yeah. I hate to say it, but yeah, I found the creep fascinating. I’d always imagined he was some kind of monster. Little did I know.” She closed her eyes for a second and shuddered.

“There’s no need to go on,” Blade mentioned.

Bonnie ignored him. “So he walked me to his royal dining room, as he called it, treating me like the perfect lady all the while. You should have seen the spread! A polished table as long as a truck was covered with enough food to feed an army. Meats. Fresh fruit and vegetables. Bread and cakes. And candy bars too. Candy bars! Do you have any idea how rare candy bars are?”

“No,” Blade admitted.

“The sucker had a box of them,” Bonnie declared in astonishment. “My tummy was doing flip-flops just looking at the table. I probably drooled like a starving dog.”

“So you ate your fill?”

“I ate until I was ready to puke,” Bonnie responded. “I never knew I could cram so much food into my stomach. And the King talked on and on the whole time, about his big plan to conquer the country, then the world.

Something about a vision he had once. Everyone will worship him one day, or some such nonsense. I hardly paid attention, I was so busy stuffing food into my mouth. I topped the meal off with four candy bars. Four.” She grinned at the memory.

“And then?”

“And then the meal turned ugly,” Bonnie disclosed. “The King had his butler bring a bottle of wine. A vintage year, he said. The King poured my glass himself. I should have suspected something was up. What a jerk I was!”