David Robbins - Twin Cities Run

Blade scratched his head.

“Hickok has a point,” Geronimo stressed. “All of us have been battered rather badly. We’re not at peak efficiency, and anything less in the Twin Cities can be fatal. I don’t see where another month will make any difference.” He glanced at Hickok. “Although I’m curious to hear the reason for returning in a month.”

“We’ll get to that,” Hickok said. “How about it, Blade? Do we head for Home, or stay and continue our search for the items Plato wants?”

“All your considerations are valid,” Blade stated. “I agree we’re not in fighting form, and we can’t jeopardize our lives, the SEAL, and our mission by obstinately pursuing our assignment when common sense dictates we should regroup and try again.” He grinned at Hickok.

“Besides, if we’re coming back to the Twin Cities in a month, we can try and get what Plato needs then.”

“Then we head for the Home?” Joshua asked.

“We head for the Home.” Blade smiled, thinking of Jenny and the reception awaiting him.

“So why are we coming back here in a month?” Geronimo faced Joshua.

“What say we get this show on the road?” Hickok gazed out at the trees.

“We can be well out of the Twins by dark.”

“Good idea.” Blade reached into his right front pocket. “Here.” He handed the keys to Hickok.

“You want me to drive?” Hickok took the keys hesitantly.

“I don’t think I could, not with my leg the way it is,” Blade replied. “And you’re the only other one with experience.”

Geronimo made a show of rolling his eyes toward the heavens. “Great Spirit! First the Wacks! Then the rats! And now this! Hickok is going to drive again! I must have been overdue for spiritual testing and tribulation!” He smiled at Hickok.

“I see your wonderful, warped sense of humor is still intact, pard,” Hickok cracked. He climbed out and back into the SEAL, perching nervously on the driver’s seat.

“You can do it, Nathan,” Blade said, expressing his confidence in Hickok.

“Piece of cake.”

The transport flawlessly turned over, and Hickok carefully backed the vehicle from the trees. He quickly crossed the field and bore north on State Highway 47.

“Back to our Home, sweet Home,” Hickok announced as he accelerated.

“I can hardly wait,” Blade commented, reclining, placing his hands under the back of his head. “It will be great to see Jenny again.”

“I’m relishing the prospect of seeing my parents,” Joshua admitted.

“I’ve missed them.”

“The trip to the Twin Cities won’t be a total loss,” Blade stated.

“How do you figure?” Hickok asked, concentrating on his steering, thrilling to the sensation of power and speed conveyed by the SEAL.

“We know what to expect when we return,” Blade pointed out. “We won’t come blundering into the Twin Cities in the middle of the night again. We won’t walk into another trap. We’ve learned valuable lessons this time. Next time, we’ll be prepared.”

Hickok chuckled and winked at Joshua.

“What’s so funny?” Blade inquired.

“Nothing,” Hickok smirked.

“I know you better than that,” Blade said thoughtfully. “What is so funny about the prospect of coming back here?”

“Speaking of coming back,” Geronimo chipped in, “isn’t it about time for Joshua to tell us why we need to come back to the Twin Cities in a month?”

“Yep. Tell him. Josh,” Hickok urged.

So Joshua did, meticulously narrating his stay with the Horns, his mission to the Porns, and the resultant summit meeting of the leaders of the three factions.

“Incredible,” Blade commented after Joshua finished.

“You are a very special man,” Geronimo said to Joshua.

“Me? I didn’t do anything unusual,” Joshua disagreed.

“You most definitely did,” Blade corrected him. “Surely you realize what you might have achieved? You might be the one responsible for bringing about peace between groups who have been warring for years and years.

That’s quite an accomplishment.”

“Ideally, all men and women should live in peace with one another,” Joshua stated, glancing at Hickok, “although I am now willing to concede that occasionally circumstances arise compelling a person to violent action.”

Hickok looked at Joshua in the rearview mirror. “About time you came around to my way of thinking.” He grinned.

“Any peace between the three factions,” Joshua said to Blade, “is predicated on the Family’s reception of the relocation idea.”

“I’m positive we’ll come up with something,” Blade stated confidently.

“Plato will want to help. You can count on that.”

“I know.” Joshua nodded slowly, then sighed. “I do have one regret, however.”

“What’s that?” Geronimo inquired.

“I wasn’t able to persuade the others to include the Wacks in the peace initiative. Surely the Wacks crave peace as much as the rest. It was unfair to exclude them.”

Geronimo gazed at Blade. “You better tell him.”

“Tell me what?” Joshua twisted in the back seat so he could face Blade.

“I was a guest of the Wacks for a while,” Blade began. “I don’t recommend them as hosts.”

“What happened?” Joshua wanted to know.

For the next twenty minutes, Blade told them of his experiences with the Wacks. He detailed his capture, the staking out, the incident with the nightmarish Fant, and his escape.

“It must have been horrible,” Joshua said when Blade paused.

“Ahhh,” Blade added. “I’ve neglected to mention the best part. But it isn’t really my story. It’s Geronimo’s.”

“After Blade and I hooked up,” Geronimo said, immediately taking up the account, “we hid for twelve hours in a ruined house. Several times the Wacks came close, searching for Blade, but they didn’t find us. Blade wanted me to sneak back to their base of operations, that Hospital for the Criminally Insane, and try and spot his Commando or the Vega automatics. So, as the sun was setting, I worked my way to a building near the hospital. I climbed to the second floor and observed the Wacks from a window.” He paused, frowning at the memory.

“What did you see?” Joshua anxiously asked.

“I didn’t see the Fant thing,” Geronimo responded. “Although I wish I had! Can you imagine! Anyway, I didn’t spot the guns. None of the Wacks were carrying firearms.

“You avoided my question,” Joshua remarked.

“No. I’m getting to that.” Geronimo closed his eyes. “The creature had killed a number of Wacks by crushing them to death. I stood in that window and watched several dozen Wacks eat their fallen comrades.”

“Eat?” Hickok chimed in. “Then it’s true, the reports about the Wacks being cannibals?”

“Yes, it’s true,” Geronimo shuddered. “The Wacks were clustered around the bodies, or what was left of them. They would dip their hands into the… mess… and stuff their mouths. I can’t imagine a more grisly sight than the one I witnessed.”

“Dear Father!” Joshua exclaimed.

“Something will need to be done about the Wacks,” Blade commented.

He stared out at the passing scenery. “I can’t wait to get back to the Home,” he reiterated. “Just can’t wait.”

“I’m looking forward to it myself, pard,” Hickok said.

“Any special reason?” Geronimo idly inquired.

“Yep.” Hickok glanced down, his nose crinkling.

“Want to tell us about it?” Geronimo asked.

“I’ve never needed a new set of buckskins so badly in my whole life.”

“They look like you washed them recently,” Geronimo noted.

“I did.”

“He had to,” Joshua mentioned.