David Robbins - Thief River Falls Run

How many were there? What was their firepower? He needed some answers.

What would the Watchers expect him to do? Make a mad dash for the building? Or sit it out in the SEAL? They would have snipers posted to cover the building side of the transport, to cut him down if he did try to get back. But would they have the park side of the SEAL covered?

Blade grinned.

Why should they? The last thing they would anticipate would be for him to attempt to reach the park. They were in the park. They knew he knew he was outnumbered. One man, if he was endowed with any brains, wouldn’t conceive of attacking their superior force. It would be the least likely move for anyone with common sense to make.

So he would do it.

Later.

Blade scanned the area. He could distinguish trees and bushes in the park, thanks to the light from the jeep. Were they intending to keep the headlights trained on the SEAL all night? It would make his task considerably more difficult. If only…

The headlights flicked off.

Blade reacted instantly, silently unlocking the door on the park side and rolling onto the ground. He reached up and quietly closed the door, depressing the latch, insuring the SEAL was locked this time.

He would have just seconds to attain the cover of the park, the seconds it would require for any of the Watchers looking at the SEAL when the headlights went out to adjust to the abrupt darkness around the transport.

Move!

Blade ran, his body hunched over, making for the nearest vegetation.

One thing bothered him, though. What had made that terrific roar he heard earlier? A mutate? What if he blundered across it in the gloom of night?

Ten yards remained.

If he reached the trees, he would search for any hidden Watchers and slit their throats, reduce the odds before morning.

Five yards.

Almost there! Thank the Spirit!

The bushes to his left parted, and a tall Watcher, his M-16 cradled in his arms, stepped from concealment. “I tell you,” he whispered to someone else, “I think I saw something near it right after the captain killed the lights.”

“Get back in here!” the other person hissed.

“I need to be sure,” the Watcher countered, taking a step. “I can’t see clearly from in…” He stopped, his senses registering another presence. He began to bring the M-16 around.

Blade spun and let loose with the Commando. The heavy bullets caught the Watcher in the chest and lifted him off of his feet, sending him sprawling in a mangled heap.

Damn!

Just what he needed!

Blade sprinted the few yards to the trees and dove into the undergrowth. Gunfire crackled from different directions, snapping nearby branches and twigs and striking several trees.

Blade stayed prone, waiting for the firing to cease.

Doubledamn!

A Watcher, the companion of the one he shot, came into view, his M-16 on automatic, deliberately spraying the area, meticulously moving the rifle from left to right, covering every inch.

Stupid move!

Blade twisted and fired, ripping the Watcher from his crotch to his brain, flinging him against a tree.

Move! Move! Move!

Blade scrambled forward, knowing most of the Watchers would converge on this spot. He plowed under an overhanging plant and paused.

Which way?

Did it matter?

Yes.

He turned to the left, making for the parked jeeps and the truck. If the Watchers concentrated on the spot he just left, they might leave their vehicles unattended.

The soil was loose under his elbows and knees, dampening any noise he made. The air near the ground was cool, refreshing his sweaty brow.

A single shot sounded from the direction of the building his friends were in.

Hickok’s Henry.

Blade grinned. Hickok wouldn’t shoot unless he had a target. In all the years Blade had known him, Hickok had never missed. So there were five less Watchers to contend with.

This is almost too easy, Blade told himself.

The Watchers, apparently angered at Hickok’s shot, opened up on the building with a deafening crescendo of gunfire.

Good. There was no way they could hear him now.

Blade rose to a crouch and hurried toward the parked jeeps and the truck. He wanted to ascertain the contents of the truck. If the jeeps were unguarded, should he sabotage them? No. The Family would be able to use them after this was over.

Who was he kidding?

The Family would only get to use them if he and the others survived this fight.

Which was problematic at this point.

Blade reached the final fringe of vegetation and paused to reconnoiter.

He could see the jeeps and the larger truck, parked in a row, their front ends all pointing at the Watchers’ former headquarters in Thief River Falls.

There was no one in sight.

Perfect!

Blade rose, about to step from cover, when he detected motion to his right. He quickly dropped, lying flat, holding his breath.

Someone was near the vehicles, coming his way.

Blade spotted three figures walking past the jeeps. One of them was obviously a Watcher, but what in the world were the other two? They were huge, towering over the Watcher like adults over their children.

Something about the manner in which they moved stirred Blade’s mind.

They were oddly familiar.

The trio came abreast of his hidden position.

Dear Spirit!

It couldn’t be!

But it was.

In the center was a Watcher, in full uniform. He held a leash in each hand. And at the end of the leashes, one on either side of the Watcher, ambled two of the savage brutes, a male and a female.

It just couldn’t be!

Blade closed his eyes, doubting his vision. The brutes were in league with the Watchers, serving as some sort of pet? Impossible! Simply impossible!

The Watchers were still firing on the building.

Blade opened his bewildered eyes.

The bizarre trio had stopped directly in front of him. The Watcher was observing the gunfire, the brutes standing mutely at his side.

What was going on here? Were the two brutes they killed, the male Geronimo slew and the female Joshua shot, a pair? Were they in Thief River Falls because they were with the group of Watchers headed by Joe?

Were the brutes utilized as guard beasts? Blade absently shook his head, confused.

His hair brushed a leaf.

Instantly, the male brute stiffened and spun, growling, its beady eyes probing the foliage.

Damn!

Blade froze.

“What is it?” the Watcher asked the male brute. “What do you see, Krill?”

Krill? Blade’s mind spun. The brutes had names?

Krill was sniffing loudly, attempting to detect a scent.

“What about you, Aria?” The Watcher faced the female. “Is there something out there?”

The female seemed uncertain, fidgeting on her leash.

Krill had calmed. He stood with his shoulders hunched and his head lowered.

“Guess not,” the Watcher commented. “Heel.” He began to turn, to take the brutes back the way they had come.

Maybe the brutes are kept in the rear of the truck, Blade silently speculated. This development added an entirely new dimension to the Watchers. Maybe he should return to the building and warn…

Blade’s nose began tingling.

No!

Not now!

Before he could even try to control the impulse, he involuntarily sneezed.

Terrific!

Blade leaped to his feet, the Commando coming to bear, the stock pressed against his right hip. He fired, even as the two brutes jumped aside, their momentum wresting their leashes from the startled Watcher.

The Watcher was struck in the chest, his body jerking backward and colliding with one of the jeeps.

The brutes plunged into the park, one on either side of Blade.

Just great!

Blade ran into the street and whirled, covering the vegetation, his nerves taut.