David Robbins - The Kalispell Run

“That surprises you?” asked their apparent leader.

“Relieves me,” Hickok replied.

Sandy Hair was puzzled. “What do you mean, it relieves you?”

Hickok nodded at Silvester, still plastered against the boulder. “Well, if Wimpy here was any indication, I figured all the Moles must be miserable cowards who couldn’t find their butts in broad daylight.”

Sandy Hair walked up to Hickok and smirked. “Is that what you thought?”

“Yep.”

Sandy Hair was holding a Winchester, and he savagely rammed the barrel into Hickok’s stomach, doubling the gunman over.

“Leave him alone!” Sherry yelled.

Silvester finally came to life. “Goldman,” he said to the sandy-haired Mole, “it’s good to see you again.”

Goldman ignored both the entreaty and the greeting and hauled Hickok erect by the front of his buckskin shirt. “I can tell you’re a real smart mouth,” Goldman snapped. “By the time I’m done with you, you’ll wish you never learned to talk!”

Hickok, resisting an intense pain in his abdomen, managed to force a smile. “There is one thing I wish, pard,” he stated.

“Oh?” Goldman took the bait. “What’s that?”

Hickok snickered, anticipating the reaction he would get and proceeding anyway. Submitting meekly was not his style. “I wish you would do something about your breath! It’s enough to gag a skunk!”

There was the flashing gleam of the Winchester barrel, a moment before it collided with the gunman’s head.

Hickok sagged and dropped to his knees.

Goldman cocked the Winchester and aimed it at Hickok’s heart. “If breath bothers you so much,” he growled, “let’s see how well you do without yours!”

Her name was Cindy, and she was happier than she could ever recall being. She was standing on a small rise in the northeast corner of her new home, the Home occupied by the group known as the Family. The Home was a thirty-acre compound located in northwestern Minnesota, near Lake Bronson State Park. From her vantage point, Cindy could view most of the compound. She could plainly see the encircling brick wall, twenty feet high and topped with barbed wire. Portions of the moat were also visible, the stream entering the property under the northwest corner of the wall. It branched due east and due south and reformed at the southeast corner before flowing under the outer wall. The moat, thanks to the huge trench the builder of the Home had dug, was an effective second line of defense in case of a concerted enemy assault.

Cindy caught a glimpse of the drawbridge in the center of the western wall, the only means of entry and the solitary exit. A few of the concrete blocks were partially discernible, the reinforced structures the Family utilized for various purposes. There were six of them, arranged in a triangular formation in the western section of the Home. A Block was the southern point of the triangle, and was the Family armory. One hundred yards northwest was B Block, used as the sleeping facility for unwed Family members. Another one hundred yards further northwest was C

Block, the infirmary. D Block was one hundred yards east of C Block, and was utilized as the carpentry and construction shop. The same distance east of D Block and E Block, the library stocked with hundreds of thousands of books by Kurt Carpenter, the Family’s revered Founder, himself. Southwest of E Block was the Block used for preserving and preparing the Family food and storing its agricultural supplies, F Block.

Finally, another hundred yards southwest of F Block, A Block completed the formation.

The central area of the compound was devoted to the cabins inhabited by the married couples and their children. In the remainder of the Home, in the eastern sector, the fields were cultivated for agricultural purposes or, like the rise on which Cindy stood, preserved in pristine splendor.

Cindy contentedly watched a flight of birds winging their way westward. She walked to a felled tree, a mighty oak toppled by age and the fury of the elements, and sat with her back against the trunk, facing the eastern wall. The moat, a watery ribbon lazily meandering along the base of the eastern wall, was in full view.

Funny, she wondered, that the Founder didn’t position the moat outside the wall. Why put it inside? She imagined the surprise any attacker would feel after scaling the outer wall only to find another obstacle ahead. If a hostile force did manage to breech the brick wall, the time it would require them to cross the moat would enable the defenders to rake them with devastating gunfire. Kurt Carpenter certainly knew what he was doing.

Cindy relaxed, enjoying the morning sun on her face.

She considered herself the luckiest woman alive. Thank God Alpha Triad had found her and her brother Tyson and brought them to live at the Home! Blade, Geronimo, and Hickok had been on their way to the Troll headquarters, located in the town of Fox, when the Warriors had run into the ambush Cindy’s father had planned, mistakenly believing the Warriors might be Trolls. Cindy laughed at the memory, her blue eyes twinkling and her brown hair bobbing. Her father, Clyde, an elderly farmer, had wanted revenge on the Trolls for the abduction of his wife.

Cindy’s youthful features clouded. Now they were both gone. Her mother had been taken by the Trolls and never heard from again, not even after the Warriors had defeated the Trolls. And unfortunately, during the battle, Clyde had been killed.

Cindy’s eyes filled with tears. Why did her father have to die? It wasn’t fair! The poor man had tried so hard to be a good parent. All those years of wandering the landscape, living from hand to mouth, her father did the best he could to provide them with all the things they needed, especially love. If only Clyde were alive today! After all the scrounging, the scraping to stay alive, he would have, been delighted at the conditions in the Home.

Here, life was so peaceful, so wonderful. There wasn’t someone trying to murder you every other day. You didn’t have to constantly be alert for the wild animals, or the pus horrors, or any scavengers. You could enjoy life!

How long had she been here now? Around three months! And she had loved every minute of it.

But what about Tyson? She was worried about him. He displayed a disturbing tendency toward restlessness. On the surface, he conveyed the impression of being happy. She, though, knew her brother better than anyone, and she suspected something was troubling him. But he refused to confide in her, which was highly unusual.

Cindy gazed at the flowing water in the moat. How could anyone in their right mind be dissatisfied here? You were protected from attack, you ate regularly and well, and your clothing was the proper fit and clean. She looked at her brown blouse and green pants, both provided by Jenny, Blade’s fiancee. The people here, the members of the Family, were so nice, so receptive to strangers. Outside, it was a different story. You never knew whom you could trust. The survival of the fittest was the rule of the day.

What could…

Her thoughts were interrupted by the sounds of several people approaching the rise, coming from the west.

Who could it be? Not many Family members came out this far on a regular basis. Joshua did, sometimes, to worship. And Rikki too, to do whatever he did. Could it be one of them?

Cindy twisted and glanced over her right shoulder.

Three men crested the top of the rise and paused, scanning their surroundings.

Cindy recognized them.

Gamma Triad, consisting of three Warriors.

Napoleon was the leader of Gamma Triad. He was in the lead, his balding head glistening with sweat.

Cindy was about to greet them, to announce her presence, when her intuition stopped her. There was something about the manner in which Napoleon carefully glanced in every direction, something furtive in the way he appeared slightly nervous, causing her to freeze with her mouth partly open.