David Robbins - The Kalispell Run

It was just that he seemed so naked without his Bowies!

He began jogging, suppressing his fatigue and ignoring his aching muscles.

Had Geronimo waited for him? Or was he stranded in enemy territory, alone and unarmed? What would happen to his darling Jenny if he failed to return to the Home? Would she… would she find someone new?

What was that?

There was a subdued sound, a low pitched whine, coming from up ahead.

Blade stopped, unwilling to accept his excellent fortune.

It was utterly impossible!

But there was only one thing in the world he knew of that was capable of making the noise he heard.

Was it?

Blade’s emotions soared when he spied the SEAL approaching, coming around a series of curves. The transport would be visible for a moment, then disappear from view behind a cluster of conifers.

What in the world was Geronimo doing so far south of Kalispell?

Looking for him?

Blade stood in the center of Highway 35, patiently waiting, smiling broadly. Everything was coming together perfectly. They could drive to the hospital and search for the equipment Plato wanted, then head for the Home as fast as the SEAL could take them.

The transport negotiated the last curve and hit the straight-away.

Blade could well imagine Geronimo’s surprise at seeing him. The inexperienced Indian would probably slam on the brakes in his astonishment.

Something was wrong here.

Instead of bringing the SEAL to a stop, Geronimo was accelerating.

What was he doing, playing games?

Blade peered at the front windshield, wishing he could see inside the vehicle.

That damn tinted body!

The SEAL was speeding in his direction, and there was no indication Geronimo intended to stop.

A thought hit Blade.

What if Geronimo wasn’t behind the wheel?

With the thought came action. Blade sprinted to the right side of Highway 35 as the SEAL closed in and dove for cover in the underbrush as the transport screeched to a careening halt abreast of his position. He turned, facing the road, and hugged the earth, hidden by a tangle of bushes.

For a minute, nothing transpired. The SEAL stayed still, the engine quietly purring.

Blade considered moving further into the forest and circling to the rear of the transport.

The driver’s window rolled partially down.

“Blade! I know you can hear me!”

It was Rainbow’s voice!

“I know you can hear me!” she repeated. “If you don’t come out now, with your hands up, we’ll kill Geronimo!”

Kill Geronimo? What the hell was going on here?

“You have until I count to ten,” Rainbow announced.

Rainbow must be driving, which meant she was the one who had tried to run him down.

“One…”

Why would she try to kill him? He knew she hated whites. Was that the reason?

“…two…”

There had to be more to it than her loathing of the white race. How had she managed to wrest control of the SEAL from Geronimo?

“…three…”

Where could she be heading?

“…four…”

There were so many questions, and only one way to get the answers.

“…five…”

Blade stood, raised his hands above his head, and strolled to the edge of Highway 35.

The driver’s door was flung open and Rainbow dropped to the roadway, training the Dan Wesson .44 Magnum on its former owner. “Fancy running into you again,” she said, grinning triumphantly.

Blade remained silent.

“What’s the matter, Warrior?” Rainbow mocked him, accenting the last word contemptuously. “At a loss for words?”

The door on the other side of the SEAL opened and closed and two Flatheads walked around the front of the transport. The shorter of the pair, a vicious-looking specimen with a scar on his pointed chin, carried a shotgun. The other Indian, a ruggedly handsome Flathead, held a rifle.

“I say we waste him now,” Scarred Chin proposed.

“We do what I decide,” Rainbow countered, “when I decide it.”

“What are you saying?” Scar Face objected. “You going to take this one along too? We don’t need him! We don’t even need the other one! If this thing breaks down, it breaks down.”

Rainbow was weighing his words.

“Is Geronimo really with you?” Blade asked.

Scar Face snickered. “You bet your white ass!” He threw open the door and brutally hauled Geronimo from the transport.

“Lone Cougar! Don’t!” Star yelled, trying to pull Geronimo back inside.

Lone Cougar shoved Geronimo to the cracked pavement, laughing.

Another Flathead joined them, hefting Geronimo’s FNC.

Blade took a step toward his friend.

Lone Cougar swung the shotgun up, aiming at Blade’s chest. “Make a move, white ass! I’ll blow you away!”

Blade stared at Rainbow. “He must be related to you. Breeding shows.”

Rainbow’s mouth twitched. “Think you’re funny, Warrior? I’ve got news for you. You’ve just sealed your fate, yours and poor Geronimo’s. Help him up!”

Blade assisted Geronimo in rising. Blood was seeping from a bandage on his left shoulder. “Are you going to make it?” Blade asked.

Geronimo, clutching his wounded shoulder, grinned weakly and nodded. “Just a minor inconvenience. No worse than listening to one of Hickok’s jokes.”

“Move!” Rainbow barked, waving the Dan Wesson, herding them past the front of the transport.

Star’s tear-streaked face appeared at the door. “Don’t do it! Please!”

“Be quiet, honey,” Rainbow chided her daughter. “This must be done.

Watch and learn. You’ve got to be strong if you’re going to be the wife of a chief someday.”

“But they’re our friends!” Star wailed.

“No white man can be our friend,” Rainbow stated.

“Geronimo isn’t white!”

“No, but he’s one of the Family, one of them. He may be red on the outside, but inside he’s as white as Blade. Trust me. One day you’ll understand all of this.”

Blade and Geronimo were herded fifteen yards in front of the transport and stopped in the middle of the highway.

“That’s far enough!” Rainbow snapped. “Right out in the open, with no place to hide!”

The four Flatheads formed a line, Rainbow at the eastern tip, followed by Lone Cougar, Tall Oak, and Running Hare.

“A firing squad,” Geronimo stated the obvious. “How original.”

“You had your chance,” Rainbow said. “I gave you an opportunity to join us, remember?”

“Join you!” Geronimo exploded, venting his anger in an unusual emotional display. “Why should I join a pack of murdering vultures? You constantly criticize the whites and harp on the atrocities they committed against the red race. Well, Sister, you’re no better than they are. No! You’re worse! Because you allowed the Family to take you in and heal you, you embraced our hospitality, and all the time you hated us, despised us with every fiber of your being. You’re…” he paused, coughing.

“Don’t bother,” Blade soothed him. “It’s not worth it.” He gauged the distance to the nearest Flathead, Rainbow. Maybe, if he moved fast enough, he could catch her off guard and grab the Dan Wesson.

“This is a waste of our time,” Lone Cougar declared. “Let’s finish them and get it over with.”

Rainbow, her features a grim mask, nodded. “On the count of three.”

“I wish you had stayed in hiding,” Geronimo mentioned, glancing affectionately at Blade.

The Flatheads aimed their weapons at the two Warriors.

“I never thought it would end like this,” Blade mused aloud.

Rainbow, smiling wickedly, centered the Dan Wesson on Geronimo’s forehead. “One,” she announced in a strident tone.

“I wish Hickok was here,” Geronimo casually commented.