David Robbins - The Fox Run

I’m resigned to it, I guess.”

Blade ran the fingers of his right hand through her hair. “I will miss you more than words can ever say,” he acknowledged.

“I wish I were carrying your child,” she announced unexpectedly.

“What?”

“You heard me. I want to have your child,” she repeated. “Our child,” she corrected. “A little Blade to remind me of his daddy.”

“You make it sound like I won’t be coming back.”

“There is that possibility,” she pointed out.

Blade stared up at the stars.

“Well, what about it?” she asked him.

“What about what?”

“About me having our child.”

“Be serious,” he admonished her.

“I’ve never been more serious.”

“You know it’s impossible,” he reminded her.

Matrimony and child-rearing were taken as the supreme social responsibility by the Family. Carpenter had attributed part of Western civilization’s decline to the breakup of the family and the instability of the home. He considered the home fundamental to the preservation and maintenance of society. In his diary he discouraged his followers from engaging in promiscuous sex. Instead, he staunchly advocated monogamy, promoting marriage and the creation of children as one of the prime duties of any daughter and son of the Spirit. Carpenter viewed marriage as an eternal binding, and this description resulted in the Family applying strict guidelines to the relations between the sexes. Children before marriage—or binding, as it become generally known—were firmly discouraged. The Family’s tight-knit structure, the genuine love of the parents for their offspring, tended to perpetuate the traditional Family values.

Violations were rare. The situation was further compounded by the constant fight for survival. Children required constant protection and supervision. Every Family member wanted children, but no one wanted more than he or she could handle. Children were a necessity for the continuation of the Family, not an idle luxury indulged in on a passing whim. Nurseries, day schools, grade schools, and the like were all things of the past. Parenthood could not be studiously avoided, nor could the responsibilities be shirked and passed to someone else. From infancy, the Family members faced the often grim realities of existence.

“You know it’s impossible,” Blade reiterated when Jenny didn’t respond.

Jenny squeezed him as hard as she could. “I know,” she admitted. “I’m just dreaming.”

“One day your dream will become a reality,” he predicted.

“I want you to know I’m holding you to your promise,” she said.

“I was serious,” Blade stressed. “When I return, if you’re willing, you and I will bind. We’ll get a cabin and start a family and thank the Spirit daily for our blessings.”

Jenny smiled broadly. “It sounds almost too good to be true, doesn’t it?”

“Plato has said that your life is only enjoyable if you work at making it what you want,” he philosophized. “If you really want something, go for it.”

“I can’t think of anything I want more than to be your mate,” Jenny said.

“I’ll be counting the days until you return.”

Blade leaned down and gave Jenny a warm, protracted kiss. She reached up and wrapped her arms around his neck.

“Think you can find us a soft patch of grass somewhere, big guy?” she whispered.

“Do you have something in mind?” he teased her.

“I want to remember this night forever.”

Blade turned serious. “Just remember what I said about not having children. I won’t have you carrying a child and bearing the responsibility of rearing it without me by your side. Don’t try and make me lose control.”

“Why, honey,” she said softly into his right ear, her hands stroking his neck, her legs pressing against his, “I don’t have the slightest idea what you mean by that. How could little old dainty, defenseless me ever make a strong, strapping hunk like you do something against his will?”

Jenny kissed him again, entwining her tongue with his.

I could be in serious trouble here. Blade reflected.

The breeze picked up.

They were standing fifty yards east of the row of cabins used by the married couples. Tilled fields and clusters of trees, preserved natural areas, continued eastward until encountering the protective moat and the outer wall. At night, Warriors were posted on the western wall, at positions nearest the Blocks. Periodically, a Warrior would patrol the compound, making a circuit of the Blocks and the cabins, but not bothering to check the eastern half of the Home, the portion devoted to agriculture. Only lovers and those enjoying a solitary stroll used the eastern section at night. They believed they were secure behind the wall, the barbed wire, and the moat. No one would attack the Home at night; there were too many mutates and other monsters abroad in the woods.

But from a tactical standpoint, the Home was most vulnerable in the eastern sector, and after dark.

Blade mentally noted that fact when he heard the twig snap.

Jenny broke their embrace. “What’s wrong?” She glanced at the rows of corn and several nearby trees.

“Why do you ask?” Blade scanned the corn. The noise had been loud, distinct.

“You suddenly tensed up.” She grinned. “Hope it wasn’t my kisses! Are they that bad?” Jenny giggled.

“Shhh,” Blade whispered. His Warrior instincts were warning him that something was amiss, some element in the night was out of place. But what?

Jenny sensed his concern and stepped back a step, freeing his arms.

Blade faced the cornfield and drew his right Vega. Were his nerves playing tricks on him? What could possibly be wrong? The odds against someone invading the Home at night were astronomical. Could it be another mutate?

“Blade…” Jenny gripped his left arm.

“What is it?”

“I thought I saw something move.”

“Where?”

She pointed to a clump of trees ten yards away, situated at the edge of the cornfield.

Blade turned, studying the trees. He wished he had Geronimo’s exceptional night vision. What should he do? Investigate? And expose Jenny to possible danger? No way. He would get her out of there, find Hickok and Geronimo, and come back.

“Let’s head back,” he said casually.

Jenny took several steps, then froze, inhaling deeply.

Blade spun, following the direction of her frightened gaze.

Something was blocking their path, standing about twelve feet in front of them, something big and bulky, the features indistinguishable in the dimness of the night.

Blade drew his other Vega and aimed both at the thing.

From behind them came the sound of rustling in the corn.

“There are more of them behind us!” Jenny stated the obvious.

“You are surrounded,” said the form in front of them in a deep, growling voice. “Drop your guns or we will kill the woman.”

Blade risked a quick glance over his right shoulder. More of them were advancing on them through the rows of corn. He counted at least six, maybe more. Who were they? What did they want?

The giant in front of them answered his second question. “We want the woman. We won’t harm you unless you interfere, don’t make the Trolls angry,” he added in a threatening tone.

Trolls? What in the world were Trolls?

“Blade…” Jenny said softly.

“Stay close to me,” Blade whispered. He had to get her to the row of cabins between the fields and the blocks. Many of the married couples would be in their cabins, and he would find help. First things first.

“You Trolls want this woman?” Blade asked grimly.

“Trolls always want women,” the Troll in front of them replied.