David Robbins - Twin Cities Run

What we lack, and desperately must find, is the equipment essential to accurately pinpointing the reason for the senility. We certainly can’t manufacture the equipment, leaving us one recourse. We must go out into the world and find it.”

“Sometimes,” Bertha said when Blade stopped speaking, “you use a lot of big words, just like Plato. I have a hard time following you.”

“Sorry,” Blade apologized. “I keep forgetting you never attended a school. The Family has a fine school, taught by the Elders. Plato is just one of the teachers. He takes personal pleasure in cultivating our vocabulary.

Even Hickok knows a lot of big words, although you wouldn’t know it from the way he usually talks.”

“Ain’t he somethin’, though,” Bertha stated proudly.

“You two are getting pretty close, I take it?” Blade ventured.

Bertha’s lovely face clouded. “Not as close as I’d like, Big Guy.”

“Oh?” Blade was genuinely surprised.

“Tell me something,” Bertha said, leaning toward him. “You’ve known Hickok a lot longer than I have. What’s he up to?”

“Up to?”

“Yeah. You know how I feel about him. It’s no secret. At first, I thought he felt the same way, but lately he’s been shying away from me. I don’t know why. Do you?” Bertha inquired hopefully.

Blade shook his head. “I haven’t the slightest idea.”

“Too bad.” Bertha sighed and rested her head on the tree trunk.

“You do know about Joan, don’t you?” Blade asked her.

Bertha nodded, frowning. “Yeah. Your Jenny told me about her. Hickok was head over heels over her.”

“Then you must realize he might take a while to get over her death,” Blade remarked.

“I can understand that,” Bertha responded. “I’d expect it. No, the thing I’m talking about is something else. I don’t know what it is, but I sense he’s hiding something from me.”

“Like what?”

“I wish I knew,” Bertha said. “I can see it in his eyes sometimes, like he wants to tell me something. But he holds it back. It’s not like him, and I’m worried.

“I’ll talk with him,” Blade promised. This was extremely odd. First Joshua, then Plato, and now Bertha. All three were concerned for Hickok’s welfare.

“You will?” Bertha asked eagerly.

“Sure.”

“Great!” Bertha grinned. “I know he thinks more of you, and Geronimo, than anyone else. He might open up to you. If he does, will you let me know what it is?”

“You’ll be the first person I tell,” Blade pledged.

“Good!” Bertha appeared relieved. “Worrying about him is the only dark spot in my life right now.”

“I take it you don’t miss Minneapolis and St. Paul?” Blade questioned her.

Bertha laughed.

“Stupid to even ask,” Blade muttered. “You’re really happy here then?”

Bertha gazed at a huge white cloud in the blue sky overhead. “This has been the happiest time of my life. I never knew people could be this way, so peaceful and friendly. No one has tried to kill me or eat me for six weeks. Incredible! I keep thinkin’ this is all a dream, and any second now I’ll wake up and find a Wack chewing on my foot.”

“The Wacks eat other people?” Blade asked, amazed.

“I told you the Wacks are crazy,” Bertha replied. “The Porns aren’t much better, to tell you the truth. I should know. I used to be one before I joined the Nomads.”

“Now let me see if I remember what you said,” Blade stated, thoughtfully recalling her words, “about these groups in the Twin Cities. Each of them has its own territory, its turf as you call it. The Nomads, the ones you belonged to before the Watchers caught you, are made up of former Porns and Horns, of people who are tired of the constant fighting.”

“You got it,” Bertha confirmed. “Zahner, the head of the Nomads, is the brains behind our group. Without him, I think the Nomads would fall apart.”

“You said you call him Z, didn’t you?”

“That’s what we call him,” Bertha verified. “I like him a lot, and I feel real bad betrayin’ him the way I’ve done.”

“You betrayed Zahner?” Blade queried her.

Bertha bit her lower lip and nodded. “Yep. Z sent me out to see if there was a way past the Watchers. They don’t let anyone out of the Twins. But we can’t take it there, no more. Z figures there has to be a way all of the Nomads can escape from the Twins and find a nice place to live, a place like this.”

“And Zahner was relying on you to return with the information,” Blade concluded.

“You got it.” Tears filled Bertha’s eyes. “And I can’t do it! I can’t go back there! Never again!”

Blade turned away, reflecting. How could he attempt to force her to return to the Twin Cities? The prospect apparently horrified her. Sure, having her along would make the trip easier and facilitate their search, but how could he justify compelling her to confront a nightmare she’d rather forget? And what if she were killed on the trip? Would he be able to live with himself?

“It’s been nice talking with you,” Blade announced, rising. “Hope I didn’t upset you too much.”

“You’re leaving?” Bertha’s surprise registered on her face.

“I’ve got to prepare for our departure,” Blade explained. He began to walk off.

“You aren’t going to try and talk me into going with you?” Bertha asked incredulously.

“Nope.”

“Aren’t you going to tell me I owe it to Hickok to make sure he gets in and out of the Twins safely?” Bertha pressed him.

“Nope.”

“But I know the Twins like the back of my hand,” Bertha added. “I can help you avoid the real dangerous parts.”

Blade stopped and glanced over his left shoulder, smiling. “You stay here. We’ll do all right. We’re Warriors, remember?”

“You’re a bunch of dummies,” Bertha retorted. “You made a heap of mistakes in Thief River Falls.”

“We’ll survive,” Blade said. “We don’t need you.”

“I could get the Nomads to help us,” Bertha offered.

“You stay here.”

“You don’t stand a chance without me!” Bertha rose to her knees.

“We’ll manage.” Blade took several more steps.

“I’m going!” she yelled.

Blade faced her. “What did you say?”

“You heard me. I’m going.”

“No, you’re not,” Blade stated.

“Bet me, sucker!” Bertha defied him.

“Look,” Blade began, moving toward her. “I don’t want you to come.

Really!”

“I’m coming anyway.”

Blade reached her side and stared into her eyes. “Why? Why change your mind so suddenly?”

“You talked me into it,” Bertha replied.

“I did what?”

“You really are one clever son of a bitch, you know that?” She grinned at him.

“What?” Maybe, Blade speculated, he was the one who was dreaming!

“You knew I’d have to say yes,” Bertha was saying. “I owe it to Zahner, and I owe it to you guys, and I mostly owe it to myself. You knew that all along.”

“Sometimes,” Blade said, shaking his head and strolling away, “I’m so brilliant, it’s scary!”

Bertha, apprehensive over her decision, watched as the muscle-bound hunk headed toward the Blocks. What had he meant by that last crack?

He was ten yards from her when he began laughing uncontrollably.

Now what’s that all about? she wondered.

In the southeast corner of the Home, far from the Blocks and the cabins and the other areas where the Family normally congregated, was a section devoted to an exclusive purpose: the Family firing range. The children were taught to stay away from this area unless accompanied by an adult.