David Robbins - Twin Cities Run

“What kind of cows are they?” Joshua asked.

“Beats me,” Blade said. “But if they’ve been running wild all these years, I can see where catching one is going to be extremely difficult.”

As if to accentuate his statement, the herd, having spotted the mechanical intruder, took off, following the shore of the lake towards the east.

The SEAL easily negotiated the rolling fields, circling Detroit Lakes. At one point, when they were bearing south, they crossed a pitted, worn road.

“Highway 34,” Geronimo announced. “It runs east and west.”

They maintained a southerly course until Blade was satisfied Detroit Lakes was well behind them. He turned west, and within three miles they came up on U.S. Highway 10. It turned out to be in the best condition of any roadway they had traveled on so far.

“It’s incredible that these roads have survived this long,” Geronimo mentioned.

“I recall reading in the library,” Joshua said, “that roads built by an ancient civilization called the Romans were still in existence, some even being used, at the time of the Big Blast.”

Blade had a thought. “Say, Bertha?” he called to her.

“Yeah, Big Guy?”

“You’re familiar with the Twin Cities?”

“I know my way around pretty good. I should. I’ve lived there all my life.

You know that. Why ask such a dumb question?”

Blade grinned at her frankness. “What I meant was, how well do you know what’s in the Twin Cities? What buildings are there and even more importantly, what’s inside those buildings?”

“Well,” she said, scratching her head, “I know the north and west parts of the Twins pretty good. The north part is Nomad turf, and I used to be a Porn, so I know the west real good. The south part is where the Wacks hole up, and nobody goes there unless they’ve got a death wish, so even the Porns don’t use it that much. I ain’t never been in the east part. That’s Horn turf, enemy territory. Why you askin’ these questions?”

“You know we must find certain types of scientific and medical equipment,” Blade answered. “Can you think of any buildings that might house what we need?”

“Scientific and medical equipment?” Bertha repeated doubtfully. “Don’t rightly know what you’re talkin’ about, but I might be able to help some.”

She thought a minute. “Most of the Twins, you gotta understand, was trashed long ago, right after the war. In the center of the Twins is an area that doesn’t rightfully belong to anybody. It’s kind of a no-man’s-land.

Least that’s what it’s called. You might find what you’re lookin’ for there, though you’d be crazy to go in there.”

“What makes you think we’ll find what we need there?” Blade asked her.

“I’ve been there, once or twice,” she said grimly. “There’s some big buildings called hospitals there, and one part, Zahner told me, used to be what they called a university. There’s a bunch of signs that call it the University of Minnesota. Aren’t they what you told me you were looking for?”

Blade smiled. “That sounds exactly like what we need.”

“You boys is nuts!”

“Why do you say that?”

“Cause a lot of the Wacks is there, and the Lone Wolves, and worse. The Wacks come up out of the tunnels. They’re based in the south, but you never know where they’ll appear. The Porns and the Horns and the Nomads are always sendin’ patrols in that area. You try going in there, you’ll wind up dead. I know I ain’t going in there!”

“You won’t have to,” Hickok assured her.

“No,” Blade added. “You just point us in the right direction and we’ll take care of the rest.”

“Another town up ahead,” Geronimo announced.

This one was a small town called Frazee, abandoned and disintegrating from the decades of neglect and abuse from the elements.

“We’ll keep going,” Blade said as they drove through the former business section. “I want to put more distance between Detroit Lakes and us. What was the name of the next town?”

“It’s named Perham,” Geronimo responded. “Had two thousand inhabitants before the Big Blast.”

“We’ll stop there for the night”

“But it will still be light,” Geronimo pointed out. “Shouldn’t we take advantage of the light and keep traveling?”

“I’m thinking of all of us,” Blade replied. “We must all be rested when we enter the Twin Cities.”

“We’re okay, pard,” Hickok said.

“Don’t stop on account of us,” Bertha stressed.

“I am stopping on account of us,” Blade reiterated. “We’ll be refreshed when we reach the Twins. A good sleep will help immensely.” Blade turned to Geronimo. “When do you think we’ll reach the Twin Cities?”

Geronimo spent several minutes computing, correlating the information presented on the map. “If my calculations are correct, and bear in mind this is a rough estimate…” He tapped the map, reviewing his data. “Keeping in mind Blade’s speed, which has been hovering at fifty miles per hour, and taking into account detours to avoid possible Watcher stations, and…”

“Will you just answer the blasted question?” Hickok interrupted.

“You’re beginning to sound like Plato!”

“…and subtracting time for potty breaks, we should reach the Twin Cities…” Geronimo glanced up, smiling. “By tomorrow night.”

“Yee-hah!” Hickok shouted.

“That soon?” Joshua asked.

“As near as I can tell,” Geronimo confirmed.

“Back to the Twins,” Bertha said apprehensively.

Blade looked at the speedometer. Maybe even sooner. He had picked up speed since encountering U.S. Highway 10. On Highway 59, which had been considerably narrower, and in rougher condition, he’d kept the SEAL

at close to fifty miles per hour. But he should be able to average sixty on U.S. Highway 10, just as he was doing now, all the way to the Twin Cities if their luck held. The SEAL was capable of much greater speeds, but Blade was reluctant to open the vehicle up. He still entertained lingering doubts about his driving ability, and they couldn’t afford to damage the SEAL through his carelessness.

“Back to the Twins,” Bertha said again. She shuddered.

Hickok placed an arm around her shoulders. “Don’t worry, Black Beauty. We’re not staying there long. Am I right, Blade?”

“You’re right.” Blade nodded. “I want to get in and out as fast as we can.”

“You see?” Hickok said to Bertha. “In and out. Easy as that.”

“Bet me, sucker!”

The SEAL stopped at the crest of a long, sloping grade. Below them, a quarter mile distant, loomed huge black monoliths, towering over an obscured jumble of lesser buildings, the entire scene shrouded in darkness, conveying an eerie, sinister air.

“Lordy!” Bertha exclaimed in a whisper. “I’m back at the Twins.”

“The Twin Cities,” Blade said as quietly as Bertha. “We’ve made it.”

“Why the blazes are you whispering?” Hickok asked in his usual tone of voice.

“Why is it so dark down there?” Joshua inquired, before they could respond to Hickok.

“What’d you expect, sugar?” Bertha glanced at Joshua. “We ain’t got any electricity down there. Only fire. And we only keep fires on our own turf, hidden from view, under guard. You start a fire out in the open, and the first thing you know, you’ve attracted all kinds of trouble! We go down there tonight, we go down in the dark.”

“Are we going in tonight?” Geronimo asked Blade.

Blade leaned back in his seat, deliberating.

The SEAL was stopped, the engine off, on Highway 47, just north of the Twin Cities. They had reached their destination! Finally! Blade’s mind raced, recalling their progress since dawn.