David Robbins - The Kalispell Run

“All the same, yes?”

“How do they know so much about everything?”

Gremlin gazed skyward. “Spy in the sky, yes?” He glanced at Blade.

“And parabolic ears, yes? Understand?”

Blade shook his head, confused.

“Rest!” Gremlin directed. “Talk more later.”

“But…” Blade began.

“Rest!” Gremlin curtly cut him off. “Now!”

Blade shrugged and reclined on the grass. What was he to make of all this new information? The Watchers and the Doktor were related in some respect. Did the Watchers hail from the Citadel? Was the Doktor the head of the Watchers, or simply part of their organization? What in the world was a spy in the sky and a parabolic ear? Was Gremlin deliberately speaking in riddles? Each answer received created dozens of new questions and only compounded the overall picture, producing additional uncertainties.

Of one thing he could be certain, though.

He was positive his wrists were bound by stout rope, and no matter how firm a rope might be, if it was worked on long enough, pulled and stretched and tugged at every opportunity, any rope would eventually slacken. Surreptitiously, during his conversation with the creature, he’d applied his powerful arm muscles to work on the rope.

It was only a matter of time.

And then, Mr. Gremlin, Blade vowed, I’m returning to Kalispell whether you like it or not!

The noon sun was high overhead on the day after Blade vanished.

Geronimo approached the SEAL from the east, having spent most of the morning searching for his friend. What, he wondered, could have happened? Ever since Blade had failed to come back the day before, he had been filled with apprehension. Geronimo stopped at the driver’s door and glanced over his left shoulder. He’d gone to investigate and found the Auto-Ordnance, the Dan Wesson, and the Bowies in a pile in the center of First Avenue East, abandoned. Blade would never commit such a foolish act, so there was only one, inescapable, conclusion: Blade was dead or captured. Geronimo had carried the weapons to the transport and left them in the rear section while he went hunting for some sign, any clues, to Blade’s disappearance. Nothing.

With Star and Rainbow, Geronimo spent the night in the SEAL, protected from any dangers lurking in the dark. Despite Rainbow’s urging, Geronimo refused to leave Kalispell until he discovered the reason for Blade’s absence. Rainbow, recovered from her initial shock at finding her people gone, insisted on seeking her tribe immediately. Geronimo stubbornly balked.

“I will not leave Kalispell,” he told her, “until I know beyond a shadow of a doubt that Blade is dead. Until then, we stay right where we are!”

Rainbow, annoyed, sulked until she fell asleep.

Star was strangely quiet all night, although she slept fitfully.

At daybreak, Geronimo was up and out, hoping to find a trail, some tracks, anything indicating Blade’s plight. Now, hungry, tired, and disgusted by his failure, Geronimo opened the door and climbed into the SEAL.

“Let me guess,” Rainbow said as Geronimo wearily reclined in his seat.

She was in the front row, using the bucket seat on the passenger side. Star was lying across the back seat.

“I couldn’t find a trace of him,” Geronimo acknowledged.

“Why don’t you face facts?” Rainbow demanded. “Blade is dead. It’s useless for us to stay here. We should be looking for my tribe.”

Geronimo fixed her with a probing stare, “You’re awful eager to write Blade off. Why?”

“I am not,” Rainbow protested. “I’m just realistic. Blade is only one person. My tribe numbers about three thousand. I am sorry for Blade, but we have a greater problem to solve. Namely, what has happened to my people? We must find out!”

Geronimo stared out the windshield, reflecting. In all fairness, he couldn’t fault her for wanting to locate the Flatheads. How would he react if he returned to the Home and discovered the Family missing? The same way, no doubt. But he just couldn’t bring himself to leave Kalispell. Not yet, anyway. He also wasn’t willing to tolerate Rainbow’s constant harping on the fate of her tribe. Maybe he could kill three birds with one stone: stay in Kalispell, take Rainbow’s mind off the Flatheads for a while, and achieve the task Plato sent them to perform.

“Where’s this hospital you told us about?” he asked her.

“The hospital?” Rainbow seemed surprised by the question.

“You do recall telling us about a hospital in Kalispell,” he reminded her.

“The one where we might find the items Plato is looking for, remember?”

His tone was slightly sarcastic.

“I know which hospital,” Rainbow replied. “I didn’t expect you to be thinking about it at a time like this.”

“I think about it all the time,” Geronimo informed her. “It’s always in the back of my mind. The future of the Family is at stake. Alpha Triad was sent out twice after the medical equipment and supplies Plato needs, and each time we were unsuccessful. We won’t strike out a third time, not if I can help it. I’m getting whatever we find back to the Home, even if I have to lug it on my back.”

“I see.” Rainbow slowly nodded. “Okay. The Kalispell Regional Hospital is north of here. We’ve got to take Highway 93 north to Sunny view Lane, then head east. It’s not far.”

“Fine.” Geronimo reached into his right front pocket and extracted the keys. He hesitated before inserting the ignition key. This was risky. He’d never driven the SEAL before. What if he wrecked it? He’d studiously observed Blade and Hickok when they drove, and he’d studied the Operations Manual. Was it enough, he wondered, to enable him to drive the transport to the hospital and back?

There was only one way to find out.

Geronimo placed the key in the ignition and held his breath. He’d remembered to throw the red lever located under the dashboard to the right first thing in the morning. This lever activated the solar collector system. On a sunny day, the batteries required about an hour to reach full charge. A gauge above the red lever indicated when energization was complete, and the red lever was then replaced in the straight-down position.

“Something wrong?” Star asked. She rose to a sitting position and leaned foward between the bucket seats.

“I’ve never driven the SEAL before,” Geronimo revealed.

“You haven’t?” Star asked.

“What?” Rainbow interjected. “You’re kidding.”

“Nope,” Geronimo shook his head. “Wish I were. Blade and Hickok did all the driving. Frankly, I didn’t want the responsibility.”

“Just great!” Rainbow snapped. “Do you think you can get us to the hospital in one piece?”

“I’ll do my best,” Geronimo promised.

“I hope so,” Rainbow muttered.

Brother, was she in a crabby mood! “If you think you can do any better,” Geronimo proposed, “you’re welcome to try.”

“No, thanks,” Rainbow declined. “I wouldn’t know the first thing about driving this vehicle. The cars and trucks my people owned wore out long ago. We had no idea working vehicles still existed until the army from the Citadel attacked. They had a lot of jeeps, I think they were called, some trucks, and three things called tanks.”

“How many soldiers were there in this army?” Geronimo inquired.

“My best guess would be a couple of thousand,” Rainbow replied.

“Well, here goes nothing.” Exactly as he’d seen Blade and Hickok do on dozens of occasions, Geronimo twisted the ignition key. The engine turned over, purring softly, producing a muted whine. So far, so good. Mentally enumerating the steps, Geronimo carefully followed the correct procedure.