David Robbins - Capital Run

“So, Lex,” said the brunette in a mocking, strident tone, “who’s your boyfriend?” She smirked at Rikki.

“Leave him out of this,” Lex stated. “It’s me you want, Terza.”

The woman named Terza glared at Lexine. “I want you, all right, sweetheart. You’ll pay for trying to desert us! And so will lover boy here!”

“Leave him go!” Lex urged.

“No can do,” Terza said, shaking her head. She looked at the bodies of Pat and the other two women. “Cardew told me what he did. This bastard is going to pay!”

“Listen!” one of the other bikers yelled.

From the west, distinctly audible, came the harsh chatter of machine guns.

“Look!” Cardew pointed westward.

Rikki shifted his stance. The red copter was perhaps a mile off, swooping above the highway. He instantly perceived the reason for the machine-gun fire: that thing was attacking the SEAL, was going after his friends. He had to reach them! But how? He was completely hemmed in by a wall of motorcycles.

“Do you think they’re after one of us?” Cardew queried.

“None of our people are out that far,” Terza said. “They must be after somebody else.”

“Should we go check?” Cardew asked her.

“No,” Terza answered. “We’re going to take these two back before that copter returns.” She paused, absently biting her lower lip, reflecting.

“Whoever the copter is after is doing us a favor. I was sure the Reds would strafe us after we shot at them. Our rifles and handguns ain’t much use against their firepower.”

The portly blonde, a squat woman with a perpetually mean expression, nodded at Lexine. “Climb up behind me,” she ordered.

“Get bent, Erika!” Lex retorted.

Terza raised her left arm and over two dozen firearms were trained on Rikki and Lexine. “What’s it gonna be?” she asked Lex. “If you and lover boy don’t mount up, right now, we’ll blow you away!”

Rikki, despite his calm exterior, was in a profound turmoil. There was no way he could hope to prevail against so many opponents. If he resisted, they would simply kill him. But if he allowed them to take him into St.

Louis, he would be unable to aid Blade and Hickok. He scanned the rifles, revolvers, and pistols pointed in his direction and knew he had no choice.

He would be of no benefit to his friends dead.

“Drop the sword!” Terza commanded.

Rikki reluctantly obeyed.

“And the knife!” Terza snapped at Lexine.

Lex angrily tossed her weapon aside.

“Now get behind Erika,” Terza told Lexine.

The redhead glanced into Rikki’s eyes for a moment, wanting to let him know how sorry she was to have involved him in this mess.

“Move it!” Terza barked.

Lexine mounted Erika’s bike.

Terza grinned and winked at Rikki. “And you, lover boy, can get behind me.”

Rikki dutifully slid his small frame behind the brunette. He stared at his bloody katana, averse to leaving it. His katana was an extension of himself, his most prized possession, a symbol of his Warrior nature, an essential component for a true samurai. Ordinarily, he would not relinquish the weapon under any circumstances. But this was an exception, and it just might save the lives of his companions.

Terza led the cyclists to the east.

As they crossed the low hill, Rikki caught his first glimpse of St. Louis.

He saw many towering buildings miles off, the skyline of the inner city.

What had they called those tremendous structures in the days before World War III, before the Big Blast—as the Family referred to the war?

After a minute he remembered. Skyscrapers. He’d seen such buildings once before, in Denver, Colorado, and after his return to the Home had researched them in the Family library. Prewar architecture fascinated him, as it did a majority of the Family. Many of the photographic books contained stunning pictures of incredible buildings: edifices reaching into the heavens, bizarre spherical structures and glistening domes, individual residences of every shape and size—some too fantastic to comprehend.

Rikki had received the impression each city was a veritable concrete and metal labyrinth. How could people have lived in such an unhealthy environment? Deprived of rejuvenating contact with the earth, denied the pleasure of experiencing the joys of nature, of strolling through a verdant forest pulsing with the vibrant rhythms of animal life? It was no wonder the cities reputedly festered with asocial, deviate, and criminal behavior.

And here he was, heading into a sweltering city.

The cyclists passed a small group of six bikers, parked at the side of the road. Rikki spotted a small trailer hitched to one of the bikes. On the blue trailer was a cage, and in the cage were the three dogs from the pack. Two other trailers, both empty, were connected to stout bars to other cycles. So now he knew how the Leather Knights transported their hunting dogs.

Small buildings appeared on both sides of the highway. Frame homes, brick houses, and others, comprising the outskirts of St. Louis, the suburbs. Some were occupied, as evidenced by their well-preserved state, their clean sidings, intact windows, and neatly trimmed lawns. One man was cutting his grass with an ancient rotary mower. Other homes were obviously vacant, their windows broken, their roofs and porches sagging or collapsed. Some of the residents waved at the Leather Knights.

“The people seem to like you,” Rikki commented in Terza’s right ear.

Terza glanced over her right shoulder. “Why shouldn’t they, lover boy? We keep the peace, don’t we? We protect ’em from the lousy Reds. The streets are safe at night. Why shouldn’t they like us?” she demanded indignantly.

Indeed. Why shouldn’t they? Had he erred in siding with Lex against the others? Rikki looked to his left and found Lexine watching him. She grinned sheepishly and averted her eyes, her long tresses whipping in the wind as Erika’s bike paced Terza’s. The sight of Lexine’s features was enough to confirm his decision; there was an air of truthful sincerity about the woman.

The Leather Knights continued into the inner city area. The further they went, the more indications of habitation they encountered. Bikers seemed to be everywhere, but there was a singular lack of other vehicles.

No cars or trucks or jeeps.

Rikki searched for a landmark and tried to read every street sign they passed. Many of the signs were missing or illegible, the letters having faded with the passing of a century. The bikers made a number of turns, some to the east, some to the south, ever bearing inward, deeper into the grimy bowels of the metropolis.

A large sign appeared. From it, Rikki learned they were traveling east on Market Street. Huge buildings lined the south side of Market Street, while there was a park bordering the northern edge. Something ahead, something gleaming in the sunlight, arrested Rikki’s attention. He couldn’t see it clearly at first, but after a minute it became visible, rearing skyward to the east.

Rikki gawked, amazed. What was it? What purpose did it serve? The structure was gigantic, some sort of tremendous, glistening arc or arch.

The bikers wheeled their cycles to the left, driving north on Broadway. As they turned, Rikki gazed to his right and saw a mysterious, gargantuan building, a circular affair. He caught only a glimpse of it out of the corner of his eye.

A city of marvels!

The street ahead became crowded with Leather Knights, most of them parked on the sidewalks and involved in idle conversations. They turned to stare as Terza’s cavalcade rode past.

Where were they going?

A dingy edifice appeared to the left. Two faint but readable words were painted on one wall: Bus Terminal. The street and lot to the south of the terminal were filled with Leather Knights. They gathered around as Terza angled her cycle up to a cracked curb and killed her motor. The other riders did the same.