David Robbins - New York Run

Yama glared at the fallen Technic for a second, then whirled and raced to the stairs.

Farrow tried to grin as he dashed up to her. “Nice,” she mumbled feebly. “Real… nice.”

Yama dropped the scimitar and took her in his arms. “Don’t talk!” he cautioned her. “Help is on the way! The Healers…”

“No,” Farrow said weakly. “Too late…”

“Don’t say that!” Yama said, his voice raspy.

“Need to know…” Farrow stated in a ragged whisper.

“What?” Yama asked, his face an inch from her.

“The girl… this morning…” Farrow managed 10 squeak.

“The girl? What girl?” Yama declared, perplexed, in anguish. “You mean Marian? My niece?”

“Niece?”

“My brother’s daughter,” Yama said. “What about her?”

Farrow eyes widened. “Your brother’s daughter…”

“I don’t see…” Yama began, then paused as an intuitive insight flooded his mind. “You didn’t think she and I…?”

Farrow mustered a smile. “Never… was too bright.” She coughed, blood smearing her lips and chin. “Kiss me. Please.”

Yama bent down and touched her lips with his own. He could taste the salty tang of her blood on his lips and tongue, and then she stiffened and gasped, expelling her dying breath into his mouth.

Yama felt his eyes moisten, and he buried his face against her left shoulder.

It was another minute before footsteps pounded on the stairs, and Rikki-Tikki-Tavi appeared, gleaming katana in his right hand. He reached the third step and paused, then proceeded to the rampart. Shouts and yells were mingling in the compound below. He scanned the bodies, then moved down to Yama’s side. “Yama?”

“Go away.” The voice was muffled by the fabric of Farrow’s shirt.

“Are you all right?”

Yama’s response, when he finally answered, was tinged by an immeasurable melancholy. “No. I’ll never be all right again.”

The day was marked by a bright sun and a clear blue sky. The drawbridge was down as a party of Hunters prepared to leave the Home. Although the Family included four Hunters in its ranks, the Warriors frequently assisted in hunting the venison so necessary for their continued survival.

The four Hunters were hard pressed to find the quantity of game the Family required, and they gladly welcomed any help the Warriors offered.

Rikki-Tikki-Tavi was on duty on the west wall, watching the Hunters preparing to depart. The Hunters and one other. Yama had volunteered to go along. Rikki suspected Yama needed the activity, needed to do anything to take his mind off Lieutenant Alicia Farrow. They had buried her four days ago with full honors.

A muted whine arose from the west.

Rikki looked up, elated to see the SEAL traveling toward the Home at breakneck speed. “Alpha Triad is coming!” he called out. “The SEAL is coming!”

The word spread like wildfire. Family members were running toward the drawbridge. Rikki could see Plato in the vanguard. And there was Sherry, Hickok’s wife, carrying little Ringo. And Jenny and Cynthia, Blade’s and Geronimo’s spouses, toting their children. And all of the other Warriors except Teucer, who was on the north wall, and Ares, who had agreed to fill in for Yama on the east wall.

The SEAL rolled from the trees and across the field, up to the lowered drawbridge. It braked and the engine was shut off.

Blade vaulted from the transport, a beaming smile on his face. He surveyed the assembled crowd and spotted his wife. “Jenny!” He ran forward and clasped his wife and son in his arms.

Geronimo was next to emerge. He jogged the ten feet separating the transport from the gathered welcomers, and took his wife in a tender embrace.

Rikki saw Sherry staring apprehensively at the SEAL. He glanced at it, suddenly worried, wondering why Hickok hadn’t appeared. He cupped his hands around his mouth. “Hey! Where’s Hickok?”

Geronimo released the raven-haired Cynthia and crossed to the transport. He leaned in the passengerside door. “Wake up! We’re being attacked by mutants!” he yelled, and stepped back.

A sleepy Hickok stumbled from the SEAL, his Pythons in his hands, swinging the revolvers from left to right, seeking the mutants. It took a moment for the reality of the situation to dawn on his fatigued senses.

When the Family began laughing at his stupefied reaction, his face turned a livid scarlet and he glared at Geronimo, bolstering the Colts. “I should of known! You never can trust an Injun!”

Geronimo, chuckling, draped his right arm around Hickok’s shoulders.

“I wish you could have seen your face!”

“I know what I’d like to do to yours!” Hickok groused.

Sherry and Ringo hurried toward the gunman.

“I want you to know,” Geronimo said as she neared them, “we had our chance and we blew it.”

Sherry, too relieved at finding her husband returned and unharmed, paid scant attention to Geronimo. “Oh?” she replied absently.

“Yeah,” Geronimo said as Hickok hugged his family. “We could have left him back on Highway 94, but Blade insisted we had to pick him up.

Personally, I think the walk back might have done him some good. Get rid of that flab…” He stopped, realizing his barbs were being wasted.

Hickok and Sherry were kissing passionately.

Rikki grinned, delighted at the arrival of his three companions. Now Blade could assume command of the Warriors, and things would go back to normal, the way they should be. His eyes happened to alight on Yama.

Not everything would be the way it was.

Rikki thought of Alicia Farrow, and of his own beloved Lexine, and he thanked the Spirit she was safe, ever eager to share her love and laughter with him. He saw the Family milling about Alpha Triad, happy, engaged in lively banter.

All except one. Yama was walking toward the forest, Wilkinson in hand, going hunting.

Rikki sighed. He knew, given time, Yama would recover. Time, so the cliche went, healed all wounds. Which was true. But Time couldn’t erase human memory, couldn’t deliver a person from periodically experiencing pangs of heartfelt grief. What was it that religious book in the library had taught? “The supreme affliction is never to have been afflicted. You only learn wisdom by knowing affliction.” Which must make Yama, temporarily at least, the wisest man in the universe.

Enough!

Rikki dismissed such somber reflections from his mind, and watched a cardinal winging on the wind. Affliction might be inevitable, but life went on. Life invariably went on.

And such was the way it would always be.