David Robbins - Thief River Falls Run

Bertha glanced around the room, her brow knit in thought. “Nope,” she answered at last. “I guess I don’t.”

“You really don’t have that many options,” Blade stressed. “I appreciate how you feel about the Twins, and I know you detest the thought of going back, but it really is your safest bet.”

“Maybe White Meat would stay here with me until you get back.” She grasped at one last straw.

“Hickok is a Warrior. He would never desert his Triad.”

“You think so?”

“Do you want to ask him?”

Hickok and Joshua were descending the stairs with yet another load of provisions.

Bertha gazed at the gunman. “No. Don’t bother him. I’d hate to put the burden on him.”

“Then you’ll come with us to the Twin Cities?”

“What choice have I got?” she said quietly, sadly.

Blade reached out and squeezed her right shoulder. “Don’t worry. We’ll take real good care of you.”

“There’s just one thing that bothers me about that.”

“What?”

“Who the hell is going to take care of you?”

Blade called a meeting and informed the rest of Bertha’s decision to accompany them. He explained his motives for leaving Thief River Falls before the day was out.

“First, we can’t be positive the Watchers won’t return in sufficient force to give us real trouble. Secondly, the rats might decide we’re too tempting a meal to pass up and attack us en masse. Third, there’s a possibility that whatever jumped me earlier has friends waiting outside to ambush us after dark. Finally, we’re under a time constraint to return to our Family.

I’ve decided we leave before sundown.”

Blade, Hickok, and Joshua were sitting at the table. Bertha was lying on her mattress. Geronimo stood at the door.

“What about Bertha?” Hickok protested. “Is she fit enough to travel?”

“Don’t worry about me none, White Meat,” Bertha chimed in. “I’ll manage.”

“We’ll clear a space in the rear of the SEAL for her,” Blade detailed.

“She’ll be comfortable and safer than she would be in here.”

“What about all of this?” Geronimo pointed at the stack of boxes.

“We load all of that into the SEAL, along with the generator, and transport it to a building on the western edge of town. Put it on the second floor in a room we can seal and protect from the rats. If the Watchers return and find it missing, I doubt they’d take the time to search every abandoned building in Thief River Falls. It would take them weeks.” Blade gazed at each of them. “Any questions? Disagreements? Now’s the time to let me know.”

“I would enjoy moving on,” Joshua said. “This place fills me with vivid memories of violent death.”

“I like it,” Geronimo concurred.

“I reckon it’s okay by me, pard.” Hickok was staring at Bertha.

“Good. Joshua, Geronimo, and I will load the SEAL and hide the provisions. Hickok, you stay here and guard Bertha.” Blade stood.

“Thanks, Blade.” Hickok smiled at his friend and walked over to Bertha.

“Looks like you got me babysitting you for a spell, Black Beauty.”

“Will you burp me too?”

Hickok grinned. “I’ll paddle you if you don’t behave yourself.”

“Yes, mother.”

“Get some rest.”

Bertha closed her eyes. “Funny,” she said in a whisper. “This is the first time in years I’m going to sleep feelin’ safe and protected.”

“Before you doze off,” Hickok mentioned, “would you answer a question?”

“What?”

“Why’re you doing this? Going to the Twin Cities? I thought you’d never go back there.”

Bertha stared at the ceiling. “I just changed my mind, is all.”

“Why?” he pressured her.

“Your friend made me see the light.”

“Blade? What’d he say?”

“Not much.”

“Come on!”

“Really.”

Hickok watched Blade heft a box and carry it outside to the SEAL.

“He’s my best friend, Bertha. If he said something I’m going to regret, I need to know.”

“He just told it like it is.”

“All right,” Hickok said gruffly. “Drop the subject.”

Bertha touched his arm. “Besides, Hickok, you know by now I kind of got a thing for you. You’re the prettiest honky I’ve ever seen.”

Hickok opened his mouth to speak, but changed his mind.

“I don’t want to let you out of my sight.” Bertha grinned. “Another woman might come along and steal you away.”

Hickok, uncomfortable, twisted and stared off into the distance. Blast her! Why did she flaunt her affection? Couldn’t she just let events develop naturally? He smiled. The girl sure had a heap of spunk! What was her background like? he wondered. Her description of life in the Twin Cities was terrible! It was amazing she still retained a sense of humor after what she had been through. He thought of the Watchers, grimacing. For what they had done to her, for the indignities and the humiliation and the pain, they would pay! He would see to it personally. Every Watcher he met from this day on would be a dead Watcher shortly after their meeting. Joshua, in a sense, was correct. No one had the right to inflict such abuse on another human being. They would be made to pay. Hickok recalled a portion of the Bible he’d read, something about an eye for an eye. That was his idea of justice. Swift, effective, and personal.

Hickok thought of Joshua. Had Joshua learned anything from the experience of the past two days? Didn’t he know by now that the men and women of the world were drastically different from the Family, that they didn’t cherish the same spiritual and moral values? Hickok felt pity for Joshua. In the confines of the Home, protected by the walls and the Warriors, insulated from the outside world, Joshua could pursue peaceful pastimes, ignoring the grim realities of existence, living love and promoting truth. Now, exposed and vulnerable, Joshua was finding it difficult to cope, to adjust to a system of survival based on a primal urge: kill or be killed. Without the Warriors along, Joshua would have died two days ago. Why had Plato sent him along? What sort of balance could Joshua provide if he bawled his brains out every time they shot an enemy?

It didn’t make much sense to him, but then those highbrows never did. All that thinking warped the brain. Give him a decent, stand-up shootout any old day. His basic instincts had served him in good stead all these years, and if he continued to trust them, to act on them, his chances of surviving were better than Joshua’s would ever be.

Memories of Joan filled his mind, unbidden, disturbing, filling him with feelings of guilt and betrayal. After all, it was only a month or so ago she was killed by the Trolls, and here he was experiencing an attraction toward Bertha, a woman he hardly knew. Was his budding affection for Bertha genuine, or was she catching him on the rebound? Was it Bertha’s personality he liked, or her strength, her toughness, so very reminiscent of Joan?

The sound of the SEAL’s engine turning over shattered his reverie.

Hickok glanced up.

Geronimo was standing in the doorway. All of the confiscated supplies had been loaded on the SEAL.

“We’re taking off to hide the boxes,” Geronimo said. “We shouldn’t be too long. Watch yourself.”

“Piece of cake.”

Geronimo smiled, waved, and ran to the SEAL.

Hickok walked to the door and watched the transport drive off, Blade behind the wheel. They’d need to return for the generator.

Outside, in the bright sunlight, the park appeared tranquil and picturesque.

So what should he do while they were gone?

Hickok gazed at Bertha. She was sleeping, her breathing deep and measured. The poor girl needed her rest. He’d need to be extra quiet to insure he didn’t disturb her slumber.