David Robbins - Thief River Falls Run

“What does it say about the numbers?” Blade asked.

“In the Name of Samuel.”

Hickok read aloud. “Say! Hold the fort! Isn’t Sammy short for Samuel?”

“It is,” Blade confirmed.

“You think there’s a connection?” Geronimo inquired.

“It would seem to be the obvious conclusion.”

Hickok scratched his forehead. “So who’s this Samuel?”

“Wish I knew.” Blade reached into his other pants pocket. “There’s more. While Geronimo was getting rid of the Watchers and you were helping Joshua minister to the girl, I remembered the piece of paper we removed from the cyclist. See what you make of it.” He gave the slip of paper to Geronimo.

Geronimo inspected the paper. “A handwritten map. A dot in the lower right corner, marked with a TRF. A line running from the dot and joining another line. Where they meet, there’s a K written in. The second line runs at right angles to the first. Part way along it, just above, is a large circle.

What do you think it all means?”

“Place the paper on the table,” Blade directed, “with the dot facing south and the large circle toward the north.”

Geronimo did as instructed. Hickok leaned over to get a better view.

“Good. Now what if that dot in the lower right, with the TRF next to it, stands for Thief River Falls?” Blade reached over and ran his finger along the lines. “What if this first line is Highway 59? See this letter K, where the lines meet? Wasn’t it at Karlstad we found the junction of Highway 59

and 11? If I’m right, wouldn’t this second line stand for Highway 11? And if it is, what does that make the large circle?”

“The Home,” Hickok whistled. “I’m impressed.”

“I’m worried,” Blade confided.

“Think that guy on the cycle was deliberately keeping an eye on the Home?” Geronimo asked.

“It looks that way,” Blade admitted. “I suspect he was linked up, somehow, with the men here. The one called Joe showed a peculiar reaction when Joshua mentioned the motorcyclist.”

“Then the motorcyclist,” Hickok deduced, “was one of these guys. One of the Watchers.”

“Watching us,” Blade agreed.

“So what’s our next move?” Geronimo questioned. “Keep going to the Twin Cities or return to the Home?”

Blade leaned his chin on his right hand, his elbow on the table. “I’ve given the matter serious consideration today. These Watchers, so far, have not done anything that would lead me to believe an attack on the Home was imminent. They do exactly what their name implies. Watch. On the other hand, Plato made it perfectly clear the Family requires additional supplies. I say we continue on to the Twin Cities and stock up, then get back to the Family.”

“What about the things we’ve confiscated here?” Geronimo asked.

Blade sat back. “We’ll stash the weapons and the food and clothes in one of the other buildings, one that’s deserted and has been for a long time. If more of these Watchers come here while we’re in the Twin Cities, I doubt they would find the cache. We’ll pick it up on our way back to the Home.”

“What about that generator I found in the basement?” Hickok inquired. “And that music machine behind the bar counter?”

“I believe they were called stereos,” Blade stated. “We’ll dismantle the stereo from the bar, and carry the generator up from downstairs. We can hide them with the weapons and food. Plato had a generator on his list of supplies to obtain. This way, we won’t need to pick one up in the Twin Cities. We can bring one back, though, if we find one. Two generators would be ever better for the Family. Any objections or other points to raise?”

“I think you’ve pretty well covered everything, pard,” Hickok said.

“What about the girl?” Geronimo asked.

“She’s awake,” said a voice from the stairs.

They turned.

Joshua was standing on the third stair, his hands on the railing.

“Josh, I didn’t know you could move so quietly,” Hickok said, complimenting him. “We didn’t even hear you. Have you been taking sneaky lessons from this red savage?” He nodded toward Geronimo.

“Despite what you might think, Brother Hickok,” Joshua said, “there are a few things I do very well.”

“You said the girl is awake?” Blade demanded.

“Yes. She has an amazingly strong constitution. She’s apparently been beaten and tortured and sexually abused, but she hasn’t complained.”

Joshua paused, frowning. “She may be suffering delusions, though.”

“Why do you say that?” Blade rose from the chair.

“She keeps insisting on seeing someone called White Meat. I repeatedly told her there is no White Meat here.”

Hickok stood, grinning. “Well, well, well. Yes, Josh, there is a White Meat here.”

“You?”

“None other. I better go up and see her.” Hickok started for the stairs.

“Do you need any help?” Geronimo smirked.

Hickok bounded up the stairs, ignoring the barb.

“We’ll go up too,” Blade said to Joshua. “I have some questions that girl is going to answer. Geronimo, stay down here and keep an eye open. Never know when more of the Watchers may turn up.”

“Got it.” Geronimo picked up his Browning and walked to the front door.

Blade led the way up the stairs, Joshua following, to the room the woman was in. Joshua carried his medicine bag in his left hand, the buckskin bag containing the medical supplies, the ointments and herbs and other organic remedies and aids prepared by the Family Healers.

The woman was laughing when they entered the room.

“Hey, honky,” she said to Blade as he came in, “this bozo is something else! Know what I mean?”

“Now if we could just figure out what,” Blade said, joking with her.

The woman was clothed with pants and a flannel shirt from the other room. Joshua had washed her, dressed her, and tended to her numerous wounds during the day. He’d also placed a blanket over her to keep her warm.

“How are you feeling?” Joshua asked her.

“Better,” she admitted. “White Meat tells me I have you to thank for that.”

“It was nothing,” Joshua said modestly.

“Sure was, honey.” She looked down at the blanket. “Most folks nowadays would have killed me outright, or put me to other uses, if you get my drift.” She grinned. “Can’t hardly believe my luck! Finding out there still are some nice people in this world. Men too! Don’t that beat all!

Even the Horns ain’t as nice as you been to me.”

“Can any man or woman do less when a brother and sister is in dire need?” Joshua asked. “We are all children of the Spirit. We must never forget this truth.”

“Hey, you sure you ain’t one of the Horns?”

“What is a Horn?” Joshua asked her.

“You never heard of the Horns?” She rose on her elbows, surprised.

“No.”

“How about the Porns?”

Joshua shook his head.

“Where are you guys from anyhow?”

“We’ll get to that in a moment,” Blade interjected. “Are you hungry?”

“I could eat a whole dog,” she conceded.

“I’ll prepare some soup,” Joshua offered. “We have canned food taken from the Watchers. Would that be okay?”

“It beats what they was feeding me.”

“Which was?”

“Nothin’,” she replied. “Unless you count what they was poking between my legs.”

“I’ll get that soup,” Joshua said, blushing.

The woman laughed. “Look at him! He’s turning red! I don’t believe it!”

Joshua quickly departed.

The girl laid back down. “Whew! I’m dizzy! Better not push myself just yet.”

“You take it easy,” Hickok told her. “You’ve nothing to worry about with us around.”