David Robbins - Atlanta Run

“We’ll stand out like sore thumbs in there.”

“Then let’s conk a couple of citizens on the noggin and swipe their clothes,” Hickok recommended. He pointed at a door in the middle of the rear wall. “Look. There’s some bushes near that door. We’ll hide there and grab the first two civilians who come out.”

“Lead on, brilliant one.”

“Remind me to have you put that in writing,” Hickok quipped, and headed across the parking lot. He was within 15 feet of the door when he realized the doorknob was turning, and he drew his right Colt as he closed the gap, hoping a citizen about his size would step through the doorway.

Instead, a giant emerged.

“What will you do?” Locklin asked.

“We’ll continue searching for a means to return to the Home,” Blade answered.

“At the rate we’re going, we’ll wind up walking there,” Hickok said.

They stood on a hill 20 miles northwest of the metropolis. A blue, cloudless sky stretched to the far horizon.

“I can’t wait to get to the Home,” Chastity mentioned. “Walk fast.”

“If you become tired,” Rikki said with a grin, “Hickok will carry you.”

“We’ll all take turns carryin’ her,” Hickok stated.

Chastity took hold of the gunfighter’s right hand. “Uncle Rikki and Uncle Blade are really nice. Are all the people at the Home like them?”

“All except one,” Hickok replied.

“Who?”

“A mangy, low-down Injun by the name of Geronimo.”

“What does he do?”

“He makes fun of me all the time.”

The child’s forehead creased. “But everyone does that.”

Blade slapped his right thigh and laughed. “She’ll make a wonderful addition to your family. I hope I’m there to see the expression on Sherry’s face when you walk in the door.”

“Forget it. This is a personal matter,” Hickok said.

“Will your wife like me?” Chastity asked.

“Of course she will, princess,” Hickok assured her.

Blade shook hands with Locklin. “It was a pleasure meeting you. I will report your case to the Freedom Federation Council.”

“I hope they agree to aid us,” Locklin said.

“We’ll return and let you know,” Blade promised.

The Warriors and the Freedom Fighters exchanged farewells. Chastity skipped to Rikki’s side as the Warriors started down the hill.

Blade leaned toward the gunman. “How will you break the news to Sherry?” he whispered.

“I don’t know,” Hickok admitted. “But I have fourteen or fifteen hundred miles in which to come up with a bright idea.”

“If she kicks you out of your cabin, you can always stay with us,” Blade offered.

“Thanks, pard. But my missus would never boot me out. She’s the sweetest, kindest person I know,” Hickok said. Then he shook his head.

“She’ll probably stomp me silly, won’t she?”

“Yep.”

The gunfighter sighed. “I just hope she’s in a good mood when we get there.”

Chastity looked back and beamed. “Hurry up. Daddy!”

“A real good mood.”