David Robbins - Twin Cities Run

“Then I wasn’t imagining things!” Joshua had walked around in front of the transport.

“How do you mean?” Blade asked, keeping his eyes on the bright marvel approaching the southern horizon.

“I’ve seen that thing several times before.”

“You have?” Blade glanced at Joshua. “When?”

“Oh, about three times in the past dozen years. Most of the time at night, when the light is much brighter. I prefer to worship at night, and I spend considerable time gazing at the stars, thanking and praising the Spirit.”

“Why haven’t you said something?”

Joshua shrugged. “What could I say? I did mention a sighting to Plato once, and he expressed his belief that I’d seen a meteor or one of the satellites placed in orbit about the planet before the Big Blast. Hardly a cause for concern.”

“Maybe.” Blade thoughtfully stroked his chin. “Let’s get back inside.”

“What was it?” Hickok asked as they climbed back in. “Could it have been an aircraft of some kind?”

“We don’t know,” Blade replied. “If anyone should see it again, let me know.”

“I’ve seen them before,” Bertha chipped in.

“Oh?” Blade turned and faced her.

“Sure. They pass over the Twins every now and then. Sometimes at night, sometimes in broad daylight.”

“Interesting,” Blade commented. He resumed driving.

“Hey! Look at that! A lake!” Hickok exclaimed.

A large lake was visible to their east, the shore coming to within a couple of hundred yards of Highway 59.

“It’s called Floyd Lake,” Geronimo said, examining the map. “Or was,” he amended.

“Too bad we can’t do some fishing,” Hickok said wistfully. “I like to fish.”

“I’ve seen folks fish,” Bertha commented, “but I never have.”

“I’ll show you some day.” Hickok reached over and placed his hand on her shoulder. “You’ll like it. It’s real restful.”

“Especially the way Hickok fishes,” Geronimo quipped. “He never catches any. Just sits there, watching his line.”

“Very funny,” Hickok retorted. “Remind me to use you as bait next time.”

Blade, waiting for his opportunity, swerved the SEAL to his left, leaving Highway 59 behind, heading across the stretch of field between Floyd Lake and the road.

“What’s your plan?” Geronimo inquired.

“We’ll follow the western shore of the lake,” Blade explained, “until we can bear due east. We’ll make a half-circle around Detroit Lakes, and pick up Highway 59 on the other side. This way, we should avoid any entanglements with Watchers stationed in Detroit Lakes.”

“Sounds good,” Geronimo commented. “About ten miles past Detroit Lakes is a small town called Frazee, and twelve miles beyond that is one called Perham.”

“We’ll stop at Perham for the night,” Blade said.

The map rustled as Geronimo spread a folded section open. “Wait a minute…”

“Is something wrong?” Blade spotted a rabbit hopping away from the SEAL.

“We don’t pick up Highway 59 on the other side of Detroit Lakes.”

“We don’t?”

“No.” Geronimo bent over the map. “Detroit Lakes is at a junction of several highways. On the other side of Detroit Lakes, Highway 59 heads toward the southwest.”

“And we need to go the southeast,” Blade stated.

“I know. Let me see.” Geronimo was busy comparing symbols on the map. “The road we want to pick up beyond Detroit Lakes is called U.S.

Highway 10.”

“It takes us to the southeast?”

“Yep. As a matter of fact, it runs all the way into the Twin Cities.”

Geronimo looked up, smiling. “We’re getting there, slowly but surely.”

“I hope this U.S. Highway 10 is in good shape,” Blade said.

“Should be. According to this map, U.S. Highway 10 is something called a four-lane divided highway. It appears to be a wider road than Highway 59.”

“And we’ll have it all to ourselves,” Hickok mentioned. “I’m beginning to like this driving business. It’s fun.”

“So long as we don’t run into one of the Watcher’s vehicles,” Bertha absently commented.

“That’s a risk we’ll just have to take,” Blade remarked.

“I just hope,” Bertha stated, “you guys do better in the Twin Cities than you did in Thief River Falls.”

“What’s that crack supposed to mean?” Hickok questioned her.

“How soon we forget!”

“Forget what?” Hickok pressed her.

Bertha looked at each of them, shaking her head. “What a bunch of dummies!”

Hickok grinned. “I know what you mean, and excluding myself I think you’re right.”

“You’re included, bozo,” Bertha informed him.

“In what?”

“Who was it,” Bertha asked, “who fed the dead Watchers to the rats in Thief River Falls?”

“We did,” Hickok admitted sheepishly.

“To be precise,” Geronimo interjected, “I did.”

Bertha nodded knowingly. “And we were almost overrun by the damn things!”

“So we made one small mistake,” Hickok conceded.

“And who was it,” Bertha added, “who thought the Watchers might be friendly? What a bunch of dummies!” she repeated, laughing.

Blade was frowning. “She’s right, you know.”

“What do you mean?” Geronimo asked.

“We keep making stupid assumptions, basing our actions on our past experience, experience that’s inadequate when compared to the new realities we’re encountering away from the Home. Bertha is entirely correct.”

“What’d he say?” Bertha wanted to know.

“He said we’re dummies,” Hickok explained.

“I already said that,” Bertha reminded them.

“How were we to know that rats lived under Thief River Falls?”

Geronimo said, defending their actions. “How are we to know what we’ll encounter out here? Just how were we supposed to know about the Brutes? You can’t fault us for our ignorance.”

“I just pray our ignorance doesn’t cost us a life,” Blade said sadly.

“Life is eternal,” Joshua chimed in, “if you have living faith. Even if one of us is killed, we will pass on to the mansions on high. ‘I am come a light into the world, that whosoever believeth on me should not abide in darkness,’” he quoted from John.

“All well and good,” Blade said. “But I’d still prefer to get all of us back to the Home in one piece. I just wish there was a way to minimize our mistakes.”

“Life is a learning experience,” Joshua replied., “We learn by doing. Unfortunately, some of the lessons we must learn can only be derived from bitter experience. Have faith, Blade! All will come out for the good of the Spirit in the end.”

Blade concentrated on his driving.

The countryside was changing. Around the Home, the vegetation was lush, the forest thick with trees and brush. The same held true for Thief River Falls, its park and other natural areas. The terrain near Detroit Lakes, however, was different. The trees were sparser, shorter and gnarled.

Tall grass, waving in the wind, surrounded Floyd Lake.

“This is prime grazing country,” Hickok commented.

“Too bad we don’t have some cattle,” Geronimo said, lamenting the Family’s misfortune.

“The Family would be delighted if we could return with a cow,” Blade agreed.

“What’s a cow?” Bertha asked.

“That’s a cow!” Hickok said, excited, pointing.

Blade slowed.

Several hundred yards distant, near the southern shore of Floyd Lake, grazed a small herd of cattle.

“I don’t believe it!” Hickok pressed his face against the SEAL. “Must be twenty, thirty head out there. Do we stop and try to capture one?”

“No. We can’t spare the time. Maybe on our way back from the Twin Cities,” Blade answered.