David Robbins - Thief River Falls Run

Thank the Spirit they hadn’t! The mutates were bad enough, without having to worry about this new threat.

They rounded a turn and saw the SEAL ahead.

“Everything looks all right,” Hickok commented.

The muted blast of the Henry, three times, galvanized them into immediate action.

“Bertha!” Hickok exclaimed, running for the concrete building.

“Geronimo,” Blade ordered as he ran, following on Hickok’s heels, “stay outside with Joshua! Watch the SEAL!”

Blade followed Hickok into the building and up the stairs. As they reached the second floor the Henry boomed again.

“Take that, sucker!” they heard Bertha yell as they burst into her room.

Four dead rats were clustered around the vent opening in the wall.

“Got ’em.” Bertha beamed at Hickok and Blade. “They thought they was gonna make a meal of me, but I showed them!”

Blade walked to the vent and knelt, listening. From the dark depths below came scratching sounds. “There’s more down there.”

“Of course,” Bertha said. “Rats travel in packs. Just ’cause we’ve killed some of ’em won’t stop ’em. They’ll be back for their supper.”

“I don’t understand,” Hickok stated. “Why are they attacking us? Did they bother you once the whole time you were in this room before we arrived?”

Bertha thought a second. “Nope. Sure didn’t.”

“Then why are they suddenly concentrating here?” Hickok asked.

“Beats me, White Meat.”

Blade stood. “Bertha, what attracts rats?”

“Food mostly. Any kind of food. They’ll eat practically anything. Grain.

Fruit. Meat. They like garbage. Dead bodies are real popular too.”

“Dead bodies?” Blade repeated, jarred by an idea.

“Yeah. Dead bodies will attract them rats like nothing else will. Bring ’em in from miles and miles around.”

“Dead bodies,” Blade said again, comprehension dawning.

Blade faced Bertha. “Didn’t you say the rats live underground?”

“Yeah. In the sewers and other tunnels.”

Blade glanced at Hickok. “And where did Geronimo tell us he dropped the dead Watchers?”

“I know!” Hickok exclaimed. “Down some opening in the middle of the street!”

“What? You dropped those bodies down to the rats? You fed the rats?”

Bertha asked, astonished.

“We weren’t aware the rats were down there,” Blade explained.

“How could anyone be so stupid?” Bertha made a clicking sound.

“Honkies never stop amazing me.”

“So the bodies drew in all the rats under Thief River Falls,” Blade reasoned. “Rats that would normally be scattered in miles and miles of tunnels are converging on this area, drawn by the dead Watchers.”

“Who have probably been eaten by now,” Bertha mentioned.

“So the rats are spreading out, searching for other food in this immediate area, searching for…” Blade paused.

“For us!” Bertha finished for him.

“Damn!” Hickok glared at the dead rats.

“How many rats can there be?” Blade asked.

“Beats me, sugar.” Bertha shrugged. “Like I told you, under the Twins there’s millions and millions of ’em. Under a town this size, who knows?

Probably thousands.”

“What do we do?” Hickok interjected. “Leave?”

“Not until we’ve taken the generator and the other supplies and hidden them somewhere safe from the Watchers and the rats,” Blade stated.

“I hope you’ve got a plan, pard,” Hickok said anxiously. “Being eaten by a rat isn’t my idea of going out in style.”

“I have a plan,” Blade assured him.

“Then let’s get to it.”

Blade stared at Bertha. “Think you’re up to being moved?”

Bertha surprised both of them by rising swiftly to her feet. “I can move myself, thank you. I’m feeling lots stronger.”

“Don’t push yourself,” Blade warned. “Just take your blanket downstairs. We’ll bring the mattress down in a bit.”

“Okay by me.”

Blade’s plan took an hour to complete. They lugged the mattress downstairs and placed it along the bar. Despite her protests, they insisted Bertha lie down and rest. Blade left Geronimo in the doorway on guard, and directed Joshua and Hickok to carry all of the supplies in the one upstairs room down to the first floor. The supplies would be stacked near the door until they decided where they intended to hide their windfall.

Blade, meanwhile, found several loose boards behind the bar. He took two and went back to Bertha’s former room. Using three bottles of whiskey, he propped one of the boards over the vent opening. Blade wished he had a hammer and nails, but they hadn’t brought any from the Home and he didn’t know if the Watchers kept any tools. The board would effectively block any light from seeping down the vent, and he suspected the light attracted the rats to potential openings. On tiptoe, he reached up and removed the lightbulb in the overhead light, plunging the room into darkness. He exited, closing the door behind him. There was a thin crack between the bottom of the door and the floor. He pressed the other board against the opening to further prevent light from seeping in.

Next Blade checked the vents in the other two upstairs rooms. Unlike the open vent in Bertha’s room, the other vents were covered with a sturdy metal grill. Blade doubted the rats could gain access using them.

That left the basement.

Blade passed Hickok and Joshua in the hallway. “How’s it coming?”

“Four or five more trips should do it,” Hickok replied.

“I’ll help you if I get done first,” Blade offered.

“Fine.” Hickok stopped at the storeroom doorway. “Say, pard, what the blazes is a peach?”

“A what?” Blade paused at the head of the stairs.

“A peach. Found a box of cans labeled fruit. Some cans of apples and others of pears. Six cans of peaches, whatever they are. Ever heard of them?”

“No.”

“I believe I saw pictures of them in one of the books,” Joshua mentioned.

“Can we have some for the noon meal?” Hickok asked Blade.

“Don’t see why not.” Blade smiled and headed for the basement.

The basement door was in a far corner at the end of the bar.

“Hey, Blade,” Bertha spoke up as Blade passed her. “Was them bottles of whiskey I saw?”

“That’s what the Watcher called it,” Blade told her.

“How’s about getting me one when you have time?”

“You got it.”

Blade reached the basement door and slowly opened it. There was one dim light in the basement, placed in a dirty socket in the center of the ceiling. The generator was aligned along the north wall.

Would there be rats down there?

Blade raised his Commando and inched forward, taking the stairs one hesitant step at a time. If the rats could gain entry to the basement, they might swarm him before he had a chance to fire. Where were the vents?

A squeaking sound came from his right.

Blade pivoted, searching.

Nothing but a brick wall. The sound, apparently, came from behind the wall.

More squeaking and rustling, from all walls.

The rats had the basement surrounded!

Blade stopped. Did the underground tunnels pass by the basement?

Were the rodents attempting to dig their way in or merely passing by the wall on the other side? He didn’t hear any digging noises.

The generator was running smoothly, emitting a mild rumbling sound.

He spotted an open metal box, full of tools, under the tank.

Was that it? Would the rats shy away from something as alien as the generator? Could they hear or feel the vibrations?

Blade checked the entire basement.

No vents!

Blade smiled, relieved. The rats would need to dig their way in. Before going upstairs, he opened the cap on the generator tank and checked the fluid level. The tank was still three-fourths full. Good.