David Robbins - Twin Cities Run

“Yes. Abnormal. Unusual. Out of character,” Plato elaborated.

“None to speak of,” Blade stated as he reached Brian and hefted him onto his shoulder. “Why?” They headed for C Block.

“Don’t you think he recovered a bit too fast from Joan’s demise?” Plato questioned.

Blade considered the query. Joan, a Warrior, had been killed by the Trolls. According to the gossip, Hickok and Joan had been very much in love, both for the first time. “I was there, remember?” Blade said to Plato.

“I saw how her death tore him apart.”

“At first,” Plato agreed. “Oh sure, he moped for a while, about a month. He was severely depressed up to the time he saved Rainbow and Star. Don’t you recall?”

“Now that you mention it,” Blade admitted, “I do. Right after that incident, he became surprisingly cheerful. And on the ride to Thief River Falls he was downright happy. Odd. I never paid any attention to it until just now.”

“You had weightier matters to handle,” Plato said. “I probably wouldn’t have noticed either. It was Joshua who brought it to my attention.”

“Joshua?”

“Yes. He is an Empath, after all. Our youngest and most inexperienced, to be certain, but still talented. Joshua told me he believes Hickok’s soul is in danger,” Plato intoned gravely.

“I’ll keep my eye on him,” Blade promised.

“Please do.”

They reached C Block and stopped.

“I must go see Catherine,” Plato stated, frowning. “Will you insure adequate provisions are loaded into the transport for your departure this afternoon?”

“No problem.”

“And tell Hickok, Geronimo, and Joshua so they may bid adieu to their loved ones beforehand.” Plato added, walking off.

“I will,” Blade promised. He entered the infirmary and gently positioned Brian’s limp form on one of the dozen cots, next to the one containing the intruder.

Another run. Blade thought of his darling Jenny and grimaced. Twice he’d ventured from the Home in the SEAL, and each time he’d left the safety and security afforded by the encircling brick walls he’d nearly lost his life. Would it happen again? Would his luck fail him this time around?

He was finding it harder and harder to leave Jenny. Maybe he should tell Plato to send one of the other Warriors. Rikki-Tikki-Tavi would be the logical choice. Rikki was a supremely skilled fighter, and he was well liked by both Hickok and Geronimo.

Blade moved to the doorway and peered out at the budding day. Jenny would be overjoyed if he remained, but how would the other Family members react? Would they speculate he was losing his nerve? Would they question his ability to lead the Warriors and, perhaps one day, lead the entire Family as Plato intended him to do? More to the point, how would Hickok and Geronimo take the news? They were more than his best friends, companions since childhood; the three of them together were a highly trained unit devoted to the protection of the Home and the preservation of the Family. Everyone knew of the creeping senility affecting the older Family members. How could the future of the Family be assured, the Family itself be preserved, when they were confronted by the bleak prospect of eventual extinction within several generations?

Blade sighed.

No. He had to go. All of his training, all of his instincts, and the pricking of his conscience prodded him to go.

“I need an edge, though,” he said aloud.

And he had one.

Plato expected Alpha Triad and Joshua to make this run to the Twin Cities. Well, one other person was going to make the trip.

Whether she wanted to or not.

He located her shortly after the midday meal, seated under a tree all by herself, on the inner bank of the moat. Her back was against the trunk of the maple. The water slowly flowed past her position at the northern edge of the Home, due north of D Block.

“I’ve been expecting you, Blade,” she greeted him as he approached.

“Really? Mind if I join you?” Blade knew she had missed the noon meal and wondered why.

“No,” she replied.

Her response caught him off guard. He hesitated in the act of sitting.

“No, Bertha?”

She brushed at a fly on her yellow, short-sleeved blouse. Her top complimented her green pants nicely. Someone had given her a pair of moccasins. “Oh, you can sit down.” She grinned.

Blade obliged, studying her.

“When I said no,” she explained, “I meant the other.”

“What other?” he asked.

Bertha deliberately stared into his gray eyes.

“Did I do something to stir you up?”

“No. Why?”

“I can’t understand why you’re insultin’ me,” she said.

“I’m not insulting you,” Blade objected.

“Yes, you are,” she countered. “I’m not as stupid as I look.”

“I never said you were.”

“But you must think I’m stupid,” Bertha said harshly, “if you think I don’t know why you’re here.”

“You know?” Blade fidgeted. This wasn’t going as he wanted. He needed to regain the initiative.

“Of course. And the answer is no.” Bertha turned away and watched a leaf float past.

“You haven’t heard what I want to say,” Blade commented.

Bertha glared at him. “Who you kiddin’? It will be the same bullshit you fed me in Thief River Falls. I fell for it that time, but not now. I can’t seem to get through that thick head of yours.”

“Get what through?”

“THAT I DON’T WANT TO GO BACK TO THE TWINS!” Bertha shouted.

Blade, nonplused by her outburst, averted his gaze and played with the grass near his right leg.

“You just don’t know, Blade,” Bertha said sadly. “You just don’t know how bad it is in the Twins. Like I told you before, the place is a madhouse.

It isn’t bad enough we’ve got wild animals all over the place, and rats everywhere you turn, but you’ve also got all the different groups fightin’ for control of their measly turf. I’m a Nomad, and we hold most of the north part of the Twins. The Porns control the west, the Horns mostly the east, and the Wacks…” Bertha paused and shuddered. “The Wacks have their base in the south. You never know from one day to the next whether you will still be alive and kickin’ that night.”

“I can appreciate your position,” Blade sympathized.

“You can’t appreciate shit,” Bertha angrily retorted.

“Can I ask you one question?” Blade asked, ignoring her barb.

“I don’t see as how I can stop you, Muscle Head!” Bertha shot back.

“Do you think Hickok, Geronimo, Joshua, and I will be able to locate the items Plato wants with a minimum of difficulty?” Blade queried.

Bertha shook her head. “You ain’t ever been to the Twins…” she began.

“We’ve got a map,” Blade interrupted.

“Map, schmap!” Bertha bitterly exclaimed. “Hickok showed me one of those funny maps of yours. They’re real good at telling you the names of streets and the like, but they don’t let you know whose turf you’re on, or which areas are most likely to get raided. When you get right down to it, them maps don’t tell you shit! You count on your maps, and I can guarantee you you’ll be wasted before a day is out.”

“The Family needs the equipment and supplies on the list Plato gave me,” Blade reminded her.

“Can’t you find the stuff somewhere else?” Bertha pleaded. “Like you did that generator?”

Blade knew she was referring to the generator taken from the Watcher station in Thief River Falls, currently being stored in D Block. “It isn’t that easy,” he replied. “Plato and the Elders need specialized scientific and medical equipment. The Twin Cities have several major hospitals and the University of Minnesota. They have probably been ransacked since the Big Blast, but there is always the off chance some of the equipment we require is still there. Thanks to the hundreds of thousands of books Kurt Carpenter stocked in the Family library, many dealing with medicine, chemistry, and related fields, we possess the knowledge necessary to indicate probable causes for the premature senility affecting the Family.