David Robbins - Twin Cities Run

“Deadwood is west of here a ways,” he answered.

“Really?” Maggot was naively buying the scam. “Who runs this Deadwood?”

“Two men.” Hickok suppressed a grin. “The Lone Ranger and his faithful companion, Tonto.”

“And why are you here?”

“We send people out from time to time,” Hickok explained. “Scouting, hunting, and the like.”

“Are you guys Watchers?” Maggot probed.

“Nope.”

“Do you know where the Watchers are from?” Maggot interrogated.

“Sure don’t,” Hickok replied. “They’re as much a mystery to us as they are to you.”

Maggot paused, mulling the information.

“Anything else you want to know?” Hickok asked helpfully.

“Did you come here alone?”

“Naw. My good pard came with me.”

“Who’s that?”

“You don’t know him. His name is Zane Grey.”

Maggot’s lower lip twitched. “Zane Grey? You don’t say.”

“You’ve heard of him?”

“As a matter of fact,” Maggot stated slowly, “I have.”

Hickok grinned. The fool! He was pretending to be knowledgeable to impress the others.

“I certainly have,” Maggot hissed. Without warning, he bent and rammed the barrel of the Henry into Hickok’s stomach.

Hickok doubled over, gasping for air, the soup gushing from his mouth and over the front of his buckskin shirt.

Maggot grabbed Hickok by the collar and jerked him to his feet. “You had me going, Hickok. I was falling for your shit until you mentioned Zane Grey.

You see, I told you that most of the books in the Twins have been used as fuel for our fires, but not all of them. I personally own a dozen. One of them is called The Day of the Beast , by a man named Zane Grey. Nice try, you son of a bitch!” He threw Hickok to the floor. “Take him to the pit!” he ordered. “We’ll fix his ass! Permanently!”

He stood framed in the tent opening, the sun revealing his brown hair and blue eyes, his white skin tanned brown, wearing black shorts and leather sandals, and carrying one of their three rifles. In this case, a Marlin 336C, a six-shot lever action. He could drop a deer at two hundred yards with one shot.

“Hello, Bertha,” he greeted her. He paused to tie the tent flap up, then entered.

Bertha tried to rise, but couldn’t. She was lying on a worn mattress and was covered with blankets. Her right side was bandaged.

“Don’t try to get up,” he told her. “You’ve lost too much blood.”

Bertha reached up and took his right hand in hers. “Z, it’s good to see you again!” She smiled, her affection genuine. “I missed you.”

Zahner sat down on the ground next to the mattress. “That’s nice to hear. I missed you too. Listen, do you feel up to talking right now? I told them to get me as soon as you woke up.”

“I can talk,” she said. “I’m hungry, though. Sure would like some food.”

“It’s on its way,” he assured her. Zahner pointed at her right side.

“Sorry about that. The boys just didn’t know if they could trust you or not.”

Bertha frowned, glancing at the bandage. “I sure am gettin’ the shit thumped out of me lately.”

“Really? Mind telling me about it?”

“How long have I been out?” she asked.

“About two days.”

“No!” She attempted to rise again, getting no further than her elbows before collapsing. “Damn!”

“What’s the rush to get back on your feet?” Zahner closely watched her features, searching for the slightest hint of deception and treachery.

“I need to get back,” she said, fuming over her debilitated condition.

“He needs me.”

“Who needs you?”

“Hickok. A friend of mine,” she said guardedly.

Zahner stared into her eyes. “I thought we were your friends. Bertha.”

“You are,” she declared. “You’re one of the best friends I’ve got.”

“Then you’ve got to understand my position,” Zahner said. “A lot of people count on me to make the right decisions, and I can’t let them down.

You know how it is, how it’s been. I got so sick and tired of all the fighting between the Horns and the Porns I couldn’t stand it anymore. You know I once was a Horn. You wouldn’t believe how regimented they’ve become, how they try to control every aspect of your life. So I thought I’d break away and form my own group. That’s how the Nomads were started. What amazed me was how many others wanted to join me once the word got out. Dozens and dozens from both sides. Any day now I half expect a Wack to waltz in and ask to join us.”

Bertha grinned. She knew all this, so what was he driving at? It was difficult to concentrate on Zahner. Her mind was filled with fear for Hickok’s safety and dread that he was dead.

“All these people relying on my judgment,” Zahner was saying, his voice low, troubled. “I can’t let them down. I thought forming my own group would solve all my problems, but it hasn’t. The fighting hasn’t stopped. It’s become worse. Now the Porns and the Horns raid us, and we raid them.

We’re caught in the same stupid, vicious cycle they are.”

Bertha, still worrying about Hickok, became aware Zahner had stopped. He was gazing at the ground, his eyes blank, dejected. “Hey, bro! Are you okay?” she asked him.

Zahner shook himself and smiled. “It gets to me sometimes, Bertha. You know what I mean?”

“I know where you’re comin’ from.”

“So, anyway,” he resumed, clearing his throat, “I came to the conclusion the only way we could escape this mess was to get out of the Twins. I picked my most trusted, capable soldier and I sent her out, hoping she could find a way out of the Twins.”

Bertha recalled her determined reluctance to return to the Twins and she avoided his gaze, feeling humiliated and a disgrace to those who had counted on her.

Zahner noted her look. “It’s been weeks, Bertha. Where the hell have you been? I was positive you’d been killed because of my harebrained scheme. Do you have any idea how bad I’ve felt? How many times I reproached myself for being a jerk?” His voice rose in anger. “Do you have any idea what you’ve put me through?”

“I’m really sorry,” she apologized. “I didn’t mean…” She stopped, faltering, overwhelmed by her betrayal. “I didn’t think of it that way.” She lowered her head, resisting an impulse to cry. Not her! No way!

Zahner came closer, sitting on the mattress next to her. “Hey, I’m sorry. I didn’t want to upset you.”

“It’s okay,” she sniffed. “I understand.”

“I’ll leave you alone and come back later.” He started to rise.

Bertha grabbed his arm. “Don’t, Z! Don’t leave! I need to talk with someone.”

“I’ve always been here whenever you needed me.”

“I know. That’s what makes it worse.”

“How do you mean?”

She raised her head, her eyes rimmed with tears. “I wanted out of here so bad, I was ready and willin’ to turn tail and desert you and the rest.”

“It’s all right,” he tried to assure her.

“I was ready to wimp out on my friends,” she went on as if she hadn’t heard. “Now look at me!” she snapped bitterly.

“I really think you need to be alone.”

“No. Look at me! I’ve lost my friends…”

“You haven’t lost us. We might have doubted you, but you’re still our friend.”

“…and I’ve lost my ticket to freedom…”

“What do you mean?”

“…and the man I was comin’ to love.” She choked on the last words, reaching for him with her good arm.

Zahner, shocked, hugged her gently, stroking her hair. “It’s okay.

Bertha. Really. There’s no need to get so upset. We forgive you.”