David Robbins - Thief River Falls Run

“What’s that?” Hickok moved closer.

“A box of matches.”

“What?” Blade rose and took the box.

“New box.” Geronimo beamed. “New matches.”

“Can’t be,” Hickok stated.

“But it is,” Blade confirmed, frowning. The box the wooden matches came in consisted of blank cardboard, devoid of any identifying marks. “It is.”

“I thought it’d interest you,” Geronimo admitted.

“See if these interest you.” Hickok gave the coins to Geronimo.

“I don’t believe it!” Geronimo exclaimed.

“This adds an entirely new dimension to our trip,” Blade stated. He was uneasy, disturbed at discovering this stranger so close to the Home. Had the man been waiting for the SEAL?

“Doesn’t it, though?” Hickok agreed. “I love a good mystery.”

“What do we do now?” Geronimo inquired of Blade.

“We stay right where we are.” Blade had already decided. “We’ll spend the night in the SEAL…”

“Now wait a second, pard,” Hickok said, beginning to protest.

Blade cut him off with a wave of his hand. “All of us will spend the night in the SEAL. It’s the only cover we have, and this guy might have companions lurking about. It may be cramped, but at least we’ll be alive in the morning. No one will be able to sneak up on us and slit our throats in the dark. Like it or not, it’s the SEAL tonight.”

Hickok shrugged his shoulder, indicating his acceptance.

“What about food?” Joshua spoke up. “Should I prepare a meal for us?

I’m a good cook. At least, that’s what I’m told.”

“No fire tonight.” Blade shook his head. “We’ve got some venison jerky in the SEAL and other provisions. A cold meal might not be the best, but it’s the safest. Let’s get inside and lock the doors.”

“What about our departed brother?” Joshua asked, pointing at the motorcycle driver.

“He ain’t my brother,” Hickok retorted.

“All men are your spiritual brothers.” Joshua looked Hickok in the eyes.

“The Spirit gave each of us life and loves all of us equally. The Spirit is no respecter of persons.”

“Men are,” Hickok rejoined. “The Spirit may love us all, but men don’t. Some men love you, some don’t.”

“Love is derived from understanding,” Joshua said. “When we learn to understand one another, we will, in the process, grow to love one another.”

Hickok sighed. “Can’t you see it yet?” he asked, annoyed.

“See what?” Joshua asked, perplexed.

“When someone is trying to kill you, when they have a gun pointed at your head, you don’t have much spare time to develop a mutual understanding. It’s you or them. And I intend to insure that in each and every instance it’s them and not me.” Hickok pointed his Henry at the body. “Case in point.”

Joshua quietly stared at the deceased driver. He shook his head, turned, and walked back to the SEAL.

“He’s taking this hard,” Geronimo observed.

“Serves him right,” Hickok said testily. “He shouldn’t be on this expedition.”

“Plato had a reason for sending him with us.” Blade joined their conversation. “We should leave him to his own thoughts tonight. I imagine he has a lot to meditate on. Besides, we have enough to keep us busy. Let’s get inside.”

“And the body?” Geronimo inquired.

“We leave it for the carrion-eaters,” Blade responded.

“Joshua will be upset,” Geronimo noted.

“Unfortunate, but it can’t be helped. I know it’s only noon or so, but I want to stay here the remainder of the afternoon and tonight. Let’s see if anyone shows up. The biker’s ambush was too calculated for my liking. He might have friends.”

Blade drove the SEAL into a stand of trees and they settled in for the long vigil. The three Warriors remained awake until the early morning hours, discussing the ramifications of the attack. They ate a meal of venison jerky and water, their speculations continuing unabated. Why had they been attacked? Where was their attacker from? His clothing, possession, and the cycle all were relatively new. How was that possible?

Did it mean that certain cities had been spared in the Big Blast? Were some industries still intact? Had the Family, isolated in a remote corner of the country, fallen out of step with the rest of civilization? Was the Family an outcast commune, out of touch with society? The three talked for hours, finally agreeing further consideration was senseless.

“We just don’t have enough to go on,” Hickok said, summing up their deliberations.

“Agreed. Until we do, it’s useless to worry ourselves. What say we get some sleep and start off early?” Blade slouched in his seat, making himself comfortable.

“Good idea, pard.” Hickok yawned. “I’m a mite bushed.”

Geronimo leaned back, resting his head on the top of the seat. He too was weary. It had been an eventful day, and only their first on this trip. He glanced at Joshua, pitying him, imagining Joshua’s turmoil. Joshua had not said a single word all night. He had sat with his elbows on his knees, his hands cupped together, his chin resting on his hands, his eyes closed, sorting his thoughts. He had even refused to eat. Geronimo flinched. One of the tomahawk handles was poking him in the side. He shifted position and aligned the handle to alleviate the pressure. The Arminius was snug under his right arm, his Browning behind him in the rear section of the SEAL. Good thing they had brought along the firepower. It appeared they’d be needing their armament, if today was any indication. One day out, one attacker dead. How many bodies would they rack up tomorrow?

His last thought, before drifting into sleep, was to wonder if any of those bodies would be one of theirs.

Blade woke up to the sensation of a hand on his shoulder, shaking him. He opened his eyes, collecting his thoughts. “What is it?” he mumbled. The dead biker was where they had left him.

“You mentioned you wanted to start at first light,” Joshua said, withdrawing his hand.

The sun was emerging over the eastern horizon.

“Thanks.” Blade twisted in his seat, facing Joshua. “We were up so late, I might have overslept. Did you get any sleep?”

“No.”

“You should have.”

“I required time to commune with the Spirit,” Joshua explained. “I wouldn’t have been able to rest, even had I wanted to do so.”

“Understand,” Blade said, sighing. So much for his great idea. No one else had appeared during the night. “Let’s wake the others.”

“I’m awake,” Geronimo said quietly, his eyes still closed. “Hickok kept snoring, kept waking me up. If we stay inside the SEAL tonight, can we muzzle him or nail his mouth shut?”

“I don’t know,” Blade joked. “It’d be too tempting to leave it that way in the morning.”

“And you’re supposed to be my friends?” Hickok sat up and stretched.

“Pretty comfortable in here, wasn’t it?”

“For some of us more than others,” Geronimo stated.

“We’re getting an early start today, aren’t we?” Hickok stared at the pale gray sky. “Usually you don’t start picking on poor helpless me until the sun’s been up a couple of hours.”

“You want a fire for breakfast?” Geronimo asked Blade.

“Not really,” Blade replied. “Unless you do. I’d prefer to take off as soon as possible.”

“Fine by me,” Hickok said. “Just give us a moment.”

“For what?”

Hickok opened the door. “This SEAL might be a mechanical marvel, but someone neglected to install a crucial part.”

“Such as?” Blade remembered to throw the red lever.

Hickok gave Blade a searching look. “Your brain doesn’t function so hot this early, does it? Want me to put a puddle on the floor before you get the idea?”