David Robbins - Thief River Falls Run

“Hey, Blade!” Bertha yelled down the stairs.

Quickly, Blade replaced the cap and ran up the steps, closing the door behind him.

Bertha was sitting on her mattress, holding the Henry in her lap.

“Geronimo wants you,” she said as Blade emerged from the basement.

Blade joined Geronimo by the doorway.

“Saw something,” Geronimo stated. He was staring at the park on the other side of the street.

“What was it?” Blade scanned the vegetation.

“Don’t know. A glimpse of something big and brown. Do you want me to investigate?”

Blade thoughtfully chewed his lower lip. “No. Might be another one like the thing that attacked me.”

“What if it steps into the open?”

“Kill it,” Blade directed.

Geronimo nodded.

Blade walked to the table and sat down. Big brown brutes outside, hordes of rats inside. More Watchers might return at any time. Blade frowned. He had wanted to stay put until Bertha was recovered from her ordeal, until she was fit enough to travel without hardship. That option was becoming untenable. Too many threats faced them if they remained in Thief River Falls. The mission came first. Getting to the Twin Cities was their paramount concern, eclipsing all other considerations. Besides, the faster this trip went, the sooner they’d see the Home again.

Hickok and Joshua were walking by the table, their arms laden with supplies.

“I thought you said you’d give us a hand,” Hickok reminded him.

“Have something to attend to first,” Blade replied. He stood and walked behind the bar. The whiskey bottles were standing under the counter on a shelf located on the left side of the bar. He grabbed one of the bottles by the neck.

“What have you got there?” Bertha asked him as he came around the bar and sat down on the floor next to her mattress.

“Isn’t this what you wanted?” He displayed the bottle.

“Lordy!” Her eyes widened. “Prime drinkin’ whiskey! Can’t hardly believe it! That stuff sure is hard to come by in the Twins.” She reached for the bottle.

Blade hesitated. “You sure this stuff is good for you in your condition?”

“I ain’t having a baby, honey.” She impatiently took the bottle.

“Would you like something to eat?” Blade inquired.

“I never drink on a full stomach.” She grinned, looking at him expectantly, then frowning when he didn’t laugh. “Don’t you get it? I never drink on a full stomach.”

“I distinctly heard your statement,” Blade responded. “Why? Does it have some special significance?”

“Ain’t you ever drank whiskey before?” Bertha unscrewed a black plastic cap.

“No.”

“No?” She gawked, unbelieving.

“No. Why?”

Bertha laughed. “Here. I’ll let you go first. Take a deep swig.”

Blade held the bottle in his right hand. “A deep swig?”

“The deeper, the better.” Bertha grinned. “This stuff will set your hair on fire.”

“Why would I want to set my hair on fire?”

“Just drink the damn whiskey,” she urged him.

Blade shrugged, tipped the bottle, and swallowed as much as he possibly could in one gulp.

“That’s it!”

Blade placed the bottle on the floor, wondering what in the world she was grinning about, considering her a bit strange, when the whiskey hit him. A tremendous burning sensation exploded in his stomach, his throat tingling, his mouth puckering. He screwed up his face and glared at the bottle.

Bertha was laughing hysterically, slapping her hands on her thighs.

“Oh, beautiful! Just beautiful!”

Blade began coughing uncontrollably, his eyes watering.

“Blade, you’re something else!”

Hickok and Joshua walked over.

“What the blazes is going on here?” Hickok demanded.

“I’m making a man out of your friend here,” Bertha was still giggling.

“You’re what?”

Bertha picked up the whiskey bottle. “Here. Try this. You’ll see what I mean.”

Hickok raised the bottle to his nose and sniffed.

“Thanks, but no thanks.” He gave the bottle to Bertha.

“What’s wrong?” she asked, surprised.

“That stuff smells awful,” Hickok said. “I have this policy against drinking anything that smells like horse piss.”

Bertha shook her head. “You boys sure are weird! Any man in the Twins would kill for a drink of this.”

“We’re not from the Twins,” Hickok stated.

“That, White Meat, is what makes you so beautiful.” She beamed up at him.

Blade had stopped sputtering and wheezing.

“What’d you think?” Bertha smiled.

“Terrible!” Blade exclaimed, his voice a ragged whisper. “But I think it killed the pain in my throat.”

Bertha gulped several mouthfuls. “This stuff will sure enough kill whatever ails you,” she agreed.

“Are you finished with the supplies?” Blade faced Hickok.

“Almost.”

“Would you get it done as quickly as you can? I need to talk with Bertha. Alone,” he emphasized.

Hickok stared from one to the other. “Whatever you say, pard.” He strolled off, Joshua in tow.

Bertha swigged some more whiskey. “What do you want to talk with me about?”

“The Twins.”

Bertha frowned. “I told you last night, Blade. I ain’t goin’ back there. Not for any reason.”

“What if I can give you a good reason?”

“Fat chance.”

“How would you like to come live with us at our home?”

Bertha paused, the bottle touching her lips. “Say what?”

Blade smiled. “I asked if you would like to live with us?”

“Are you serious?”

“Completely.”

“You mean I could?” She set the bottle on the floor.

“Would you like to?”

“White Meat told me all about this Home of yours,” Bertha said softly.

“Sounds too good to be true. You just can’t imagine how bad it is in the Twins. The Home almost sounds like heaven.”

“Then you’d like to come back there with us?”

“What’s the catch?” she eyed him warily.

“Catch?”

“Don’t play innocent with me! White Meat also told me that you’re one clever son of a bitch. What’s your angle?”

Blade stared gravely into her eyes. “Be our guide when we reach Twin Cities, help us, and we’ll take you back to the Home when we return.”

“You mean if you return,” she said, disgusted. “I knew it! I knew there’d be a catch!”

Blade remained silent.

“Tell me, Blade.” She grinned craftily. “What’s to stop me from going to the Home on my own? From what I’ve learned, the folks there are real nice. Nicer than you anyway. I bet they’d take me right in, no questions asked.”

“They probably would,” Blade agreed. “The question, though, is whether you could find the Home on your own. Do you think you could without a map? And remember, the country around the Home is literally swarming with mutates. How do you expect to get by them? It’d be awful rough going for one person.”

“I could do it,” Bertha said, her tone lacking conviction.

“Then forget I brought the subject up.” Blade made a move to rise.

“Wait!” she said hastily. “Don’t be in such a hurry. I’m thinking it over.”

“Listen, Bertha.” Blade held her eyes with his own. “I’m not trying to pressure you…”

“Don’t jive me, honky!”

“…because in the final analysis the decision is all yours. You don’t have to come with us to the Twins. Stay here in Thief River Falls and we’ll pick you up on our way back to the Home.”

“If you make it back!” she snorted.

“My point exactly. Which is why we need you. We have a better chance of making it with you to aid us. You can still stay here if you like. We’ll leave you ample food and ammunition. But what happens if the Watchers pay this place a visit? They must make periodic supply runs from wherever their headquarters is located. What about the rats? Do you really want to stay here alone?”