David Robbins - The Kalispell Run

Blade glanced at Geronimo, his eyebrows knitting. “What?”

“Two,” Rainbow continued her countdown.

“We do almost everything else together,” Geronimo explained. “Why should he miss out on this?”

Blade, despite their predicament, threw back his head and laughed uproariously.

Rainbow, about to give the final number, hesitated, bewildered by their lighthearted attitude. “What the hell can you find so funny at a time like this?” she angrily demanded.

Geronimo winked at Blade and soberly faced Rainbow. “Your face.”

Blade’s mirth was seemingly uncontrollable. He actually stumbled several steps in Rainbow’s direction. Doubled over, he kept laughing, but inwardly his mind was cool and calculating as he tensed his leg muscles for a leap at Rainbow.

“Let’s plug these morons!” Lone Cougar urged.

Rainbow sighted again and drew back the hammer on the Dan Wesson.

At that moment, its tires squealing as it rounded the first curve to the south at high speed, a jeep roared into view.

“What the…” Lone Cougar blurted.

“Citadel troops!” Tall Oak shouted in alarm.

Blade, spinning, caught sight of the jeep and its occupants as he looped his steely left arm under Geronimo’s armpits and bodily hoisted him from the roadway.

It was Angier and the three other soldiers!

One of the soldiers was driving, another was beside him, and the third sat in the back behind the driver, his hands holding an ammunition belt, about to feed the cartridges into a swivel-mounted machine gun. Angier was standing, gripping the .45-caliber machine gun, steadying the lengthy barrel as the jeep closed on its quarry, only thirty yards distant.

Blade ran, carrying Geronimo, heading for the forest at the western border of Highway 35.

The Flatheads began to scatter, making for the SEAL.

They weren’t fast enough.

Angier opened up with the heavy machine gun, the slugs tearing the pavement as they tore a path down the middle of the roadway, then swerved to the left, catching Tall Oak and Running Hare.

Tall Oak was struck first, the impact of the bullets stitching a pattern across his chest, miniature geysers of crimson spurting outward. He staggered and fell on his face.

Running Hare was caught in midturn, his right side bearing the brunt of the slugs. He screamed once, falling in a disjointed heap onto the highway.

Angier swung the gun to the right, going after the remaining two Flatheads.

Blade reached the woods and hastily pulled Geronimo in after him. He glanced over his shoulder.

Lone Cougar was racing for the transport when the machine gun zeroed in. His back erupted in a spray of blood and he howled like a banshee as he dropped to his knees, then toppled over.

Rainbow almost made it.

She was inches from the open driver’s door when a stray slug sped into the top of her head and exited through her forehead. Her brains and blood smeared the door as she sank to the road.

“Mommy!” Star shrieked in horror, too terrified to leave the safety of the SEAL.

“Stay hidden,” Blade ordered, lowering Geronimo to the ground.

“I can help,” Geronimo stubbornly objected, beginning to push himself erect.

“Stay put! You’re in no condition for a fight and I can do it alone. I hope.”

Blade ran, weaving between the trees, bearing north. If he could come in behind the transport, interpose the vehicle as a shield, preventing the soldiers from spotting him, he could get inside the SEAL before them. If Rainbow had his Dan Wesson, then his Bowies and the A-1 must still be in the transport. None of the Flatheads had had them when they were shot.

Move! his brain clamored.

Watch out for rocks and roots. Mustn’t trip now!

He was ten yards past the SEAL and he cut toward the highway. One final tree loomed in front of him. He darted behind the trunk and peered to his right.

The jeep was slowly, cautiously, rolling to a stop near the dead Indians.

The soldiers weren’t taking any chances. They would probably take the time to check the Flatheads and verify their victims were lifeless. The jeep braked, momentarily placing the SEAL between Blade and the soldiers.

Blade crouched and sped to the rear of the transport.

“Check them!” Angier barked. “Then look inside.”

Only seconds left.

Blade eased to the corner behind the driver’s door and risked a peek.

The door was still wide open. Rainbow’s face was visible under the door, a pool of blood forming under her.

No sign of the soldiers.

Yet.

Blade scampered to the door.

“There’s another one!” one of the soldiers shouted.

Blade leaped into the SEAL as an M-16 chattered. The soldier had shot at his feet and ankles.

“Get him!” Angier commanded.

Blade slammed the door behind him and pressed the lock, quickly doing the same on the other side.

There!

The soldiers couldn’t get in, and the impervious SEAL body would protect him.

And Star.

The girl was curled in the back seat, weeping, her hands over her tear filled eyes.

“Star! It’s me, Blade! Don’t worry! I’ll get us out of here!” he promised.

The soldiers had regrouped at the jeep. Angier was preparing to fire at the SEAL’s windshield.

“Blade?” Star uncovered her eyes and sat up, choking and sobbing.

“They killed my mother! They killed Rainbow!”

“Your mother’s hatred killed her,” Blade amended, looking for the A-1.

Was it in the storage section?

“Oh, Blade!” Star wailed, coming toward him for comfort, her arms held wide.

“Watch…!” Blade began, too late.

All hell broke loose.

Angier started blazing away at the transport’s windshield, the slugs whining as they ricocheted aside, deflected by the unique iron-like plastic designed by Kurt Carpenter’s scientists.

Star’s right foot caught on the console between the front bucket seats.

She tripped, falling forward onto the dash before Blade could reach her.

Her outstretched left hand brushed against the dashboard, striking one of the four mysterious toggle switches in the center of the dash, the one marked with a large R.

Blade grabbed Star before she could fall further. He heard a peculiar whirring sound and saw the soldiers pointing at the front of the SEAL, in the direction of the grill. There was fear on their faces.

What was going on?

The transport suddenly lurched violently, as if a great force had shoved the vehicle backward.

Angier, the soldiers, and the jeep literally blew to smithereens, consumed by a mighty explosion and a spectacular fireball extending fifty feet skyward.

Star, stunned by the spectacle, gaped at Blade.

“Don’t look at me,” he said, watching the fireball collapse and dissipate.

“I think you caused it.”

“Me?” Star asked, her eyes reflecting her astonishment. “How did I do… that?”

Blade reached over and replaced the toggle switch in its original position. “I think you did it when you bumped this switch labeled R. It’s some type of weapon. If I was to hazard a guess, I’d say the R stood for Rocket, or Rocket Launcher.” He paused, pondering the implications.

“Kurt Carpenter must have had armament installed in his prototype,” he mused aloud. “It makes sense. Carpenter was thorough in everything he did. But it leaves us with two glaring questions.”

Star was staring at the four toggle switches. “I did it? I killed the men who killed my mother?”

Blade used his right hand to wipe the tears from her cheeks. “You certainly did, sweetheart.”

Star looked at the smoldering heap of debris where the jeep had stood.

Her eyes gleamed and she grinned. “Good!” she stated, delighted. “Those men got what they deserved!”