David Robbins - The Kalispell Run

“Thanks. Appreciate it, yes?” Gremlin sauntered toward the designated structure.

Lieutenant Angier faced his patrol. “Resume your positions. Notify me if anyone comes along the road.” He followed Gremlin.

The soldiers vanished from view.

Blade was carried through an open doorway into a well-lit boathouse.

The building was constructed partly over the water, and waves rippled against the dock and splattered water on the moorings. Whatever vessel formerly occupied the boathouse was long gone.

“You behave, yes?” Gremlin deposited his captive on wooden planks to the left of the doorway.

Blade glanced up at the creature and grinned. “You know me.”

“That’s why I said it, no?” Gremlin surveyed the boathouse. “Smells like fish, yes?”

Blade realized Gremlin was right; the building did reek of a fishy odor.

“Watch carefully, yes?” Gremlin said to Angier, then left.

Blade’s gray eyes fell on a boat hook mounted on a rack above his head.

Angier, standing in the doorway, his thumbs hooked in his webbed belt, watched Gremlin walk to a stand of trees forty yards away and disappear in the dense underbrush. “Those freaks give me the creeps!” he muttered.

“I’m sure Gremlin will be delighted to hear your description of him,” Blade remarked, chuckling.

Angier turned and pointed his M-16 at Blade’s chest. “One word from you and I’ll cut you in half. Understand?”

“Perfectly.”

“Good. Then shut your face until the freak comes back.”

“Mind if we talk?”

Angier took a step toward Blade. “Didn’t you hear me, asshole?”

“Perfectly.”

“Then shut your mouth, jerk!”

“You haven’t answered me. Mind if we talk?”

Angier raised the M-16, preparing to bash the prisoner with the rifle butt again.

“Your mother ever tell you about your nasty temper?” Blade asked, smiling broadly.

“You asked for it!” Angier tensed, about to swing the rifle.

“Look,” Blade said quickly. “You can beat my brains in, if that’s what you want. But I don’t think Gremlin or the Doktor would like it much. Why don’t we just talk?”

Angier warily lowered the M-16. “You may be right. The Doktor might not take it too kindly if I damage the merchandise.”

“So why don’t we talk?” Blade urged him, hoping at last to learn some of the answers to the questions he had.

“Why the hell should I talk to you?” Angier snapped.

“I can give you a few reasons,” Blade told him. “How long have you been here? A month or so? You must be bored to tears. I thought you might find a little conversation a welcome break in the monotony.”

Angier studied the Warrior, assessing his character. “We are bored shitless,” he admitted.

“See?” Blade grinned. “So why don’t we talk.”

Angier walked to the doorway and leaned against the frame. “I guess it can’t hurt. What do you want to talk about? The weather?” He laughed at his own joke.

“I’d rather talk about you,” Blade said. “I have a million questions…”

“I bet you do, at that,” Angier agreed. He placed the M-16 down, reclining the automatic rifle against the wall.

“Are you guys Watchers?” Blade asked.

Angier stared into Blade’s eyes. “No hard feelings over that bop on the chin?”

“No,” Blade lied. “Why should there be? I provoked you.”

“You certainly aren’t anything like your reputation,” Angier remarked.

“I have a reputation?”

“What else did you expect? Remember, four of our troops survived the firefight in Thief River Falls. I saw the report. It was included in one of our regular dispatches. Very impressive,” he commented, extending a compliment from one fighting man to another.

“I had help,” Blade reminded him.

“Ahh, yes,” Angier nodded. “The Family gunfighter and the Indian.”

“Hickok and Geronimo,” Blade clarified.

“I’d like to meet this Hickok some day,” Angier said. He rested his right hand on a holster attached to his belt above the right hip. A protective green flap covered an automatic pistol.

“No,” Blade disagreed, “I don’t think you would.”

“Is it true?” Angier asked, looking at Blade. “Did Hickok really take on all those troops with just a pair of revolvers?”

Blade nodded.

“I wish I had been there,” Angier stated wistfully. “Instead I’m assigned to this lousy post.”

“You guys must be Watchers,” Blade deduced, prying.

“Some call us that,” Angier said. “We’re known by a lot of different names.”

“But what are you really?”

Angier thoughtfully gazed at the surface of the lake. “Haven’t you figured it out by now?”

“You tell me.”

“We’re what’s left of the U.S. Army,” Angier began. “Only now we’re known as the Army of Samuel.”

“I saw some coins in Thief River Falls,” Blade interjected. “They were imprinted with the words In the Name of Samuel . Any connection?”

“Pretty shrewd, aren’t you?” Angier nodded. “Yep. Those coins were probably minted during the reign of Samuel the First. The Denver Mint put out millions of them. Now his son, Samuel the Second, is running the Government.”

“You mean to tell me your Government is headed by a king?”

“Worse.” Angier frowned. “They don’t tell us everything, not even in school. The curriculum is designed to discourage prying minds, but you can’t help but be curious. I came across some banned books once in a house in South Dakota. We’re under standing orders to destroy all unapproved material, but I couldn’t resist the temptation to read a few of these books. From what I was able to piece together, I learned a lot about why things are the way they are. Very enlightening,” he said bitterly.

“Enlighten me,” Blade prompted him.

“The Third World War was a total mess,” Angier stated. “Neither side came out of it as well as they thought they would, despite their anti-missile systems, both land based and the ones in space. None of the leaders on either side survived. The United States Government withdrew to Denver and reorganized under the direction of the Secretary of Health, Education, and Welfare. He was in Denver at the time the war broke out and was spared. His name was Samuel. Samuel Hyde. He implemented something called Executive Order 11490, an order signed into law long ago by a President named Nixon. Under this law, Samuel was able to exercise complete control. The Government evacuated as many citizens as possible into what is now known as the Civilized Zone. Samuel confiscated all firearms, seized control of all communications channels, nationalized all industry, took control of all forms of travel, began censoring all mail, and impressed whole segments of the population into enforced national service.” Angier dolefully shook his head. “So much for the once-relatively-free country known as the United States of America,” he said acidly.

“How could he get away with it?” Blade queried.

“It was all in the name of national security,” Angier informed him.

“That Executive Order gave him the power and the legal right. I don’t think most Americans even knew it existed.”

“Why didn’t the people stop him?”

Angier snickered. “How were they supposed to do that? They’d just been through the worst war in the history of mankind. They weren’t in much shape for resisting anything. Besides, Samuel had control of the Armed Forces and confiscated all privately owned firearms. How were they going to rebel? Stones and sticks aren’t much good against tanks.”

Blade was attempting to absorb the implications of Angier’s revelations. “How much territory does this Civilized Zone include?”