David Robbins - Thief River Falls Run

Bertha rolled on her left side, facing Hickok. “I like you, too, White Meat.”

“You certainly don’t beat around the bush none, do you, girl?” Hickok admired her finely chiseled features.

“Life’s too damn short to beat around the bush,” she said sadly. “You gotta grab what you want, when you want it!”

“That’s some philosophy.”

“Tell me about yourself,” she urged him. “I want to hear everything about you, and the others here with you, and where you come from, and what you’re doing here, and why you want to go to the Twins.”

“Anything else you want to know?” He grinned.

“You got a woman?” she bluntly demanded.

Hickok hesitated.

“Well, you got a woman or not? A simple yes or no will do just fine.”

“No,” Hickok said, his voice barely above a whisper. “I don’t have a woman.”

“Hmmmm.” Bertha frowned. “I don’t like the sound of that.”

Joshua came into the room, carrying a steaming bowl of soup and a handful of jerky.

“Food!” Bertha struggled to sit up. Hickok assisted her. “I could eat a horse!”

“You’re hungrier than when I left.” Joshua placed the soup and jerky on the floor next to her legs. “I hope you enjoy this repast. I tried my best.”

“Honey,” she said, grabbing a stick of jerky, “this could be week-old dead skunk and I’d still gulp it down.”

“I don’t know if I could cook week-old dead skunk,” Joshua said seriously.

Bertha smiled. “I like you too, beefcake! I like all of you.”

“There’s one of us you haven’t met,” Hickok told her.

“Oh? What’s he like?”

“Ever heard of a book called The Last of the Mohicans ?”

The Alpha Triad and Joshua met for a conference early the next morning, sitting around the card table. During the night the lights had flickered several times, and finally the entire building had plunged into darkness.

Blade had made a torch using a piece of cloth and a board, and they had ventured downstairs. He had studied the generator and found a cap on top of a tank, a cap similar to one on the SEAL, and had recalled watching Plato remove that cap and place an oil additive into the engine. Blade had twisted the generator’s cap off, and had placed his nose over the hole. He could smell a strong, acrid odor. A metal container had rested on the floor.

Acting on a hunch, Blade had opened the container and discovered a liquid with the same scent as the generator tank. Joshua had held the torch to one side as Blade poured some of the liquid into the tank. He had placed the cap back in position and examined the front of the generator.

Three black buttons were situated to the front. Arranged vertically, the top button was labeled START, the center button STOP, and the third something called CHOKE. Blade had pushed the START button several times, and the generator had coughed and sputtered. He had stabbed the CHOKE button twice, had hit the START button, and had been delighted when the generator caught. The lights had come back on.

After breakfast, at the table, Geronimo complimented the Triad leader.

“That was a neat trick last night,” he said. “Where’d you learn to start a generator?”

“Lucky guess,” Blade replied. “I remembered Plato telling us about the fossil fuels the engines ran on before the Big Blast. When I saw the tank, and the container, I put two and two together.”

Hickok yawned loudly. “Let’s get this meeting over with. I need some more sleep.”

“Poor baby,” Geronimo ribbed him. “Serves you right for staying up most of the night.”

“Bertha was asking more and more questions. Never saw such a curious woman. Wouldn’t let me leave. I came down after she fell asleep. You sure she’ll be all right?” He faced Joshua.

“She has suffered extensive surface damage,” Joshua explained. “The beatings were severe. Fortunately, her vital organs were not injured. A few days rest, and plenty of nourishment, and she should be as good as new.”

“Which brings us to this meeting.” Blade got their attention. “We can use her. She knows the Twin Cities. She could make our job there a lot easier. Last night she told me she might not want to go back. Do we force her to against her will?”

“Definitely not,” Joshua responded.

Geronimo shook his head.

“If the gal doesn’t want to come with us, pard,” Hickok said harshly, “she doesn’t go with us.”

“You’re getting attached to her,” Blade stated frankly.

“Bull!” Hickok said in denial. “She’s a good kid. She needs a friend, is all.”

Blade suppressed a grin. “I didn’t intend to force her to accompany us. I wanted to be sure how each of you felt. How long do you think we should stay in Thief River Falls? Until she is fully recovered? Until she’s fit enough to travel, if she does elect to come with us?”

“I don’t want to abandon her until she can take care of herself,” Hickok said, expressing his opinion.

Blade tapped his finger on the table, pondering. “Agreed. We won’t leave her until she’s fit. I don’t like the delay it’s costing us, but we don’t have any choice.” His eyes ranged over each of them. “We do have a more serious problem to evaluate. Bertha told us about the Twin Cities last night. I couldn’t understand everything, but enough to gather our trip there is going to be extremely dangerous. Several warring factions are fighting for control of the city, and we could find ourselves caught in the conflict. I’m not very optimistic about finding the equipment Plato needs either. Still, we’ve got to try.”

“What about the Watchers?” Hickok asked. “We’re bound to run into more of them.”

“I know. We’ll try to avoid them where possible. From what Bertha said, they’re covering all the roads and highways out of the Twin Cities, exactly the same way they’ve covered the only highway heading south from the Home. Any ideas on who these Watchers are and where they come from?”

No one responded.

“I know.” Blade shook his head. “We need more information. I did reach several conclusions concerning them. One, they have their base south of here.”

“What makes you say that?” Geronimo asked.

“The Watcher named Joe made a reference to the fact that Sammy, the one they take their orders from, is located south of here a ways, as he put it.”

“He could easily have been lying,” Geronimo pointed out.

“True,” Blade admitted. “I don’t doubt that much of what he told us was a smoke screen, but the statement concerning the location was ambiguous enough to be partially true.” He paused. “My other conclusion is that the Watchers are containers.”

“Come again?” Hickok’s brow furrowed.

“Look at their pattern. Bertha says they surround the Twin Cities, preventing anyone from leaving. They also blocked the only major highway leading south from Home. Their policy seems to be one of containment, to prevent inhabited areas from spreading.” Blade frowned. “One last item.

Last night I remembered the leader of the Trolls saying they had a pact with the Watchers.”

“What?” Hickok queried, startled, sitting up in his chair.

“I had no idea who he was talking about at the time,” Blade explained.

He looked at Joshua. “Any information you can supply?”

Joshua appeared taken off guard by the question. “What would I know?”

“You’re one of the Family Empaths,” Blade stated. “Plato has great confidence in your ability. Have you picked up anything, anything at all?”

Joshua lowered his eyes. “No.”

“Keep trying,” Blade ordered. “Do whatever it is you do, but get me something I can use.”