David Robbins - Seattle Run

“What’s a school?” Hedy replied.

“You ain’t got no schools here in Seattle?” Hickok asked. “How do you learn things?”

“From our folks,” Hedy said. “From the other Sharks. We learn how to survive. That’s all that counts.”

“Can you read?”

“No,” Hedy answered. “I want to learn,” she added quickly. “Gar and Fabiana can read. So can Tiger. And they’re the smartest of the Sharks. I bet if I could read I’d be as smart as them.”

“What do they read?” Hickok probed.

“Books, dummy. What else?”

“I was in a city once where they’d burned almost all of their books during their cold winters,” Hickok mentioned.

“Well, we have lots of books left,” Hedy said. “I’ve seen some of them. I like the ones with the pictures.”

“Why don’t you get someone to teach you to read?” Hickok suggested.

Hedy shrugged. “I’ve never found the time.”

“My Family could help you learn to read,” Hickok said. “We could help all of the Sharks. That is, if you wanted our help.”

“Why would you help us?” Hedy queried suspiciously.

“We’ll help anybody,” Hickok stated. “All you have to do is ask.”

“I can’t see Tiger asking anyone for help,” Hedy remarked.

“Looks like I’ll need to have a long talk with this Tiger,” Hickok said.

“Tiger doesn’t like outsiders,” Hedy divulged. “He thinks all outsiders are trouble.”

“You’ve been isolated here too long,” Hickok commented. “Cut off from the rest of the world. True, there are a heap of misfits out there ready to stab you in the back the first chance they get. But there are a lot of friendly folks too. People who are ready to lend a helping hand. My Family is just one group. There are others, and we’ve all joined together in the Freedom Federation.”

“Never heard of it,” Hedy said.

“I’m not surprised,” Hickok declared. “You don’t know what’s going on out there in the world. It’s about time you learned.”

“I don’t know,” Hedy said uncertainly.

“What have you got to lose?” Hickok asked. “Look at the way you live.

Hand to mouth, never knowing if the next day will be your last. The Sharks must change things around, make Seattle a safe place to live again.”

“As long as Manta and the Brethren are here, Seattle will never be safe,” Hedy asserted.

“So I gather,” Hickok said.

They lapsed into silence. Hedy rowed. Hickok idly gazed over the water, the tangy air tingling his nostrils, squinting because of the bright glare on the water.

Time passed.

Hickok checked his bearings, estimating they were in the middle of Portage Bay. He was becoming adjusted to the gentle rhythm of the boat, and he was lulled into a state of fatigued complacency. His eyelids were sagging when the first thump resounded on the bottom of the rowboat. He sat up straight, instantly awake. “What was that?”

Hedy had ceased rowing. Her features were pale, her mouth slack. “Oh, no!” she moaned.

“What was it?” Hickok asked.

“I told you!” Hedy whined.

“Was it a fish?” Hickok inquired, peering at the water.

“That was no damn fish!” Hedy snapped.

“Keep going,” Hickok instructed her.

Hedy hastily obeyed, rowing strenuously for the north shore.

Hickok drew his right Colt and held both Pythons in his hands, searching the water for any sign of motion.

“Please don’t let it be what I think it is!” Hedy said. “Please! Please!”

Hickok probed the water for signs of motion, a fish, anything. For 12

feet or so the water was relatively clear; beyond that was an alien realm of insidious shadow.

The rowboat was suddenly struck a second time, a distinct thud.

Hedy froze. “No!” she cried.

“Keep rowing,” Hickok commanded. “We can still make it!”

Hedy applied herself to the oars in a frenzy.

Hickok was feeling extremely uncomfortable. He didn’t much like being so exposed, and he regretted his decision to force Hedy to row across the bay.

Yet a third blow was delivered to the underside of the rowboat.

Hickok leaned over the bow. What the blazes was happening? What was down there? Why…

A dark shape materialized from the depths below, swimming toward the boat, toward the bow.

Hickok glimpsed a greenish, scaly figure with arms and legs and a hideous face with big, circular, pitch-black eyes.

The thing lunged from the water, grasping at the Warrior.

Hickok received a fleeting impression of scales and teeth and a pungent fishy smell. The Python barrels were resting on the top edge of the rowboat, slanting downwards, and he scarcely had to move them because the thing came up directly into his line of fire. He saw webbed hands reaching for him and a mouth stretched wide, exhibiting long white fangs, and he squeezed the triggers.

The Pythons thundered.

Taken unawares, the thing was hit in the forehead. It tumbled into the water and started to sink from sight, its arms and legs outstretched.

“I think you got it!” Hedy yelled happily.

“There might be more,” Hickok said.

The rowboat lurched to a sudden stop, as if something had grabbed it from underneath.

“No!” Hedy wailed.

Hickok glanced from one side of the boat to the other, waiting for the mutants to make their move.

They did.

But not as expected.

The rowboat unexpectedly tilted, the right side lifting a foot above the water and dropping down again.

Hedy screamed.

Hickok was jostled by the impact, but he retained his seating.

“We’re going to be killed!” Hedy wailed.

“Not if I can help it,” Hickok said. “Keep rowing!”

“What good would it do?” Hedy retorted, terrified.

“Row!” Hickok ordered.

Hedy was reaching for the oars when the rowboat rose from the water again, the left side this time, elevating two feet above the surface. She started to slip, to fall toward the right side of the boat. “Help me!”

Hickok began to rise, to go to her aid.

The left side of the rowboat shot up almost vertically.

Hickok saw Hedy upended, her legs flying out from under her, and she toppled into the water, shrieking as she fell. He lunged, trying to grab her left ankle, but she went under before he could reach her.

Blast!

The gunman was holding onto his seat with the fingertips of his left hand, his right arm outstretched, a Colt in each hand, when the rowboat was flipped completely over. He instinctively inhaled a second before his head broke the surface. The water was cold on his skin as he sank a few feet below the overturned boat.

Green figures converged on the Warrior and the woman.

Hickok’s arms were taken in grips of steel. He struggled to break free, to regain the surface before he ran out of air, but the green forms were intent on keeping him under the water.

Hedy was being overpowered by three of the mutants.

Hickok kicked at the pair holding his arms, but the water hampered his movements, impairing his blows.

The mutants took him lower.

Hickok was feeling an intense pain in his chest. He needed fresh air, and quickly! His shoulders were in excruciating torment, further hindering his efforts.

A leering visage appeared before him.

Hickok tried to butt the mutant with his forehead, but the creature retreated out of range. He felt like his lungs were going to burst! He thrashed and heaved, all to no avail. Bitter water began to seep into his mouth. He tried to fire his Colts, but his hands were strangely limp and wouldn’t cooperate. A searing spasm lanced his side and he involuntarily opened his mouth.

And blacked out.