David Robbins - Thief River Falls Run

“Messed up the room a bit.”

“You’ve killed five men, five sons of God!”

“Josh, I think you better calm down. You’re starting to get hysterical.”

Hickok spoke gently.

Joshua released Hickok and slumped against the wall. His left foot slipped on something, and he glanced down at the floor, at a piece of human flesh lying in a puddle of blood.

“Joshua,” Blade began, “I’m sorry, but…”

The blast of three shots, from a shotgun, from outside, stopped him short.

“Geronimo!” Hickok was already in motion, racing out the door.

Geronimo was standing over a prone figure lying behind bushes at the edge of the town park.

Hickok, Blade on his heels, raced up to him.

“You okay, pard?”

Geronimo nodded. He pointed his Browning at the man on the ground.

“Tried to sneak up on me. Imagine that! A whitey trying to sneak up on a red man! That’s like a cat trying to teach a dog to bark.”

“It’s the one from the roof.” Blade recognized him.

“I heard the shots inside and was coming to help,” Geronimo explained, “when he popped up and let loose. His shot was hasty. He missed. I didn’t.”

“Yuck.” Hickok grimaced. “That Browning sure did a number on his face.”

“What face?” Blade asked.

Geronimo hefted the Browning. “This thing’s something! It’s like carrying a portable cannon.”

“Knew you’d like it when I picked it for you.” Hickok beamed.

“Where’s Joshua?” Geronimo wanted to know.

Blade and Hickok realized Joshua had not joined them.

“We better get back to him,” Hickok stated.

Blade put his hand on Hickok’s arm. “Let me have a few moments alone with him.”

“We should secure the area,” Hickok reminded him.

“You two stand guard outside,” Blade directed. “Let me have some time with Joshua, then we’ll sweep.”

“Old Josh did look a little bent out of shape,” Hickok agreed.

“I’m beginning to have my doubts about the wisdom of Plato sending Joshua on this trip,” Geronimo confided to his friends.

“If he’s going to get upset every time we kill someone,” Hickok added, “he’ll spend this entire trip miserable.”

Blade went inside.

Joshua was sitting at the table, his face in his arms, weeping.

Blade walked up to him and put his right hand on Joshua’s shoulder.

“Feel like talking?”

Joshua spoke without looking up. “I don’t know if I can take much more of this.”

“You can take it.”

“Do you realize,” Joshua said, sniffing, “in two days you have killed six men?”

“Seven,” Blade reluctantly corrected.

“Geronimo shot one outside?”

“Yes.”

“Seven brothers shot dead in two days,” Joshua said bitterly. “That must be a new Warrior record.”

“We don’t like killing, Joshua, any more than you do.”

Joshua lifted his tear-streaked face. “How can you say that, Blade? I would never kill another son or daughter of the Spirit.”

“They were planning to kill us.”

“They told you that?” Joshua demanded.

“Not in so many words. Their actions gave them away.”

“I didn’t notice anything!”

“You weren’t looking.” Blade paused, searching for the right words.

“Joshua, you only look for the best in everyone, and you completely overlook the worst. Those men were planning to catch us off guard and kill us in cold blood. Could we allow that to happen? What would the Family do without the supplies we’re supposed to get? It was either them of us.”

“Maybe we could have talked to them, reasoned with them,” Joshua protested. “Surely there was something we could do?”

Blade shook his head.

“But we’re required to love one another! Not kill. ‘Thou shalt not kill,’”

he quoted again from the Bible.

Blade sighed. “Joshua, what would you have us do? Should we have let them kill us? Not resisted? Submit without a fight? What would that prove?”

“I don’t know,” Joshua said sadly. “I just don’t know anymore. I’m so confused.”

Blade recalled a quote. “Didn’t the Master tell us not to cast our pearls at swine, or something like that?”

Joshua thought a moment. “‘Give not that which is holy unto the dogs, neither cast ye your pearls before swine, lest they trample them under their feet, and turn again and rend you.’”

“Wouldn’t that apply in this case?”

Joshua was struggling to regain his shattered composure. “I don’t know, Blade. I apologize if my behavior disturbs you. I never expected this to happen. I thought friendliness and love would prevail in every contact we made.”

“Is that being realistic?”

“I need time to reflect,” Joshua said to himself.

Blade squeezed Joshua’s shoulder. “I recognize the past two days have been a shock to your system, to your soul. There’s no need for you to apologize. We’ll bear with you for as long as it takes. If it’s any consolation, I thought you did a real nice job.”

“I did?”

“Sure. You were as open and friendly to these guys as you could possibly be. The fault for what happened doesn’t lie with you.”

“Where does it lie?”

“When you find out,” Blade replied, “would you let me know?”

“I’ll commune with the Spirit, see if I can perceive an answer.”

“Good. Now we’ve got work to do. You sit here for as long as you need.”

Joshua stood. “I’m ready to assist in any capacity you require.”

Blade smiled. “Good.” He walked to the door and motioned for the others.

Hickok glanced at Joshua as he entered. “You okay, Josh?”

Joshua nodded.

“How do you want this handled?” Geronimo asked Blade.

“You stay outside with the SEAL,” Blade instructed him. “We can’t afford to have anything happen to it. Keep your eyes open.”

“Eyes like a hawk.” Geronimo grinned, and left.

“And me?” Hickok inquired, hefting his Henry.

“There’s a door over there,” Blade pointed at the far corner of the room to their left. “See where it goes. I’ll check upstairs.”

“Be careful.”

“You too.”

“Piece of cake.”

Hickok made for the door.

“What about me?” Joshua asked.

Blade frowned. “I hate to ask you to do this,” he said, “but would you collect their firearms and place them on the table?”

“I can do that.”

“And if you feel up to it,” Blade continued, wondering if, perhaps, he was pushing Joshua too far, “could you pile the bodies near the doorway?”

Joshua’s face paled. “As Hickok says,” he answered gamely, “it would be a piece of cake.”

Blade stepped over the dead man at the base of the stairs and climbed to the second floor. Three doors, all closed, fronted a narrow hallway. He moved quietly to the first door, twisted the knob, and pushed it open, the Commando ready, just in case. The first room contained stacked boxes.

Blade examined them and discovered spare ammunition and dozens of cans of food. The mystery deepened. The labels on the cans were all fresh, printed not too long ago. Where had these men obtained them?

The second room was their sleeping quarters. Four worn mattresses were arranged on the floor, piles of discarded clothes strewn in random fashion. The room reeked of body odor. You certainly couldn’t say much for their housekeeping.

Blade stopped at the third and final door. He pressed his left ear against the wood, listening. Had he heard a faint sound? There it was again! Soft, almost a moan.

Hickok came into view at the top of the stairs.

Blade placed a finger over his lips, cautioning Hickok to exercise discretion. He jerked his thumb at the door.