David Robbins - The Fox Run

“Seasons? Do you mean years?” Blade asked.

“Yeah. Seasons. Years. They’re the same thing to us.”

Hickok noticed Plato blanch and his knees sagged. Then he recovered.

“This woman…” Plato seemed to have difficulty speaking. “Did she have a name?”

“Yeah, her name is Nadine.”

Hickok quickly placed his good arm around Plato’s waist to prevent the Leader from collapsing. Plato lowered his face and groaned.

“What’s the matter with him?” Rikki-Tikki-Tavi solicitously inquired.

“Don’t you remember?” asked a newcomer. “Nadine is his wife.” Joshua entered the Block. He walked to Plato’s side and took him from Hickok.

“I’ll tend to him.” Joshua’s gaze rested on the Bowie Blade held. “Is that necessary?”

“Don’t interfere,” Blade admonished him.

“He may be our enemy,” Joshua persisted, “but he is still a child of the Creator, just as we all are.”

“Joshua.” Plato surprised everyone present by standing tall and stepping free of Joshua’s embrace. “Shut up.”

“If I hadn’t heard that with my own ears,” Hickok wryly interjected, “I wouldn’t believe it.”

“Is Nadine still alive?” Plato asked, a pleading quality to his voice. “You must tell me!”

The Troll nodded. “Yup. Sure is. Amazing too, when you come to think about it.

“Why is that?” Blade probed.

“Like I told you before,” the Troll reminded him. “They don’t usually last long once we get them.”

“Why… not?” Plato’s hands were trembling.

The Troll went to reply, but apparently thought better of it.

“Answer him,” Blade said, applying additional pressure to the Bowie.

“Go ahead. Do it!” The Troll stared at Blade. “But I won’t say a thing about the women. You’d kill me for sure then!”

Blade slowly stood and placed his Bowie in its sheath. “Rikki, take our guest to C Block and let the Healers bandage his ear…”

“Or what’s left of it,” Hickok said, smirking.

Rikki jerked the Troll to his feet. “You heard the man.” With a deft flick of his wrists he cut the rope tying the Troll’s feet. “Move it. One false move and you won’t be thinking about the ear you’ve lost. You won’t have a head to think with.” Rikki shoved the Troll towards the doorway.

“Go easy on him,” Joshua urged.

Rikki stopped for a moment next to Hickok. “I almost forget. Wanted you to know I wasn’t defying your order to protect Plato last night. Two other Warriors showed up and I left them with him while I went after you.

Plato was not in danger, and I knew I would be of more assistance where the combat was heaviest.”

“Do you hear me complaining?” Hickok smiled. “If you hadn’t shown up when you did, I’d have wasted a bullet on the creep.”

“That creep,” Joshua interjected, “was a son of God, like us.”

Rikki and the Troll left.

“I’d like to go with them,” Joshua said to Blade. “Maybe I can persuade this Troll to open up. I might learn some valuable information for you.”

Blade nodded and Joshua departed.

“So what’s our next move?” Hickok queried.

Blade was stroking his chin. “Those eight women are in great danger. I don’t know what the Trolls do with them, but whatever it is, it can’t be anything pleasant. It is imperative we leave as soon as possible and go in pursuit. We’ll go all the way to Fox if need be.”

“You would experience difficulty attempting to overtake them on foot,” Plato said. “I recommend you take some of our horses.”

“No.”

“No?”

“We’ll take the SEAL,” Blade stated.

Plato shook his head. “I would vigorously oppose any such action. The vehicle is too important. It is our only way of getting to the Twin Cities.”

“Granted,” Blade conceded. “But you just admitted we’d never catch them on foot, not with the head start they have. If we use the horses, how many of them do you think will make it back? What with the damn mutates and everything else out there, we’d be lucky if even one of them survived.”

“I still fail to comprehend any sound argument for utilizing the SEAL,” Plato stated.

“How about this for an argument,” Blade continued. “You said it was, what, hundreds of miles to the Twin Cities? Quite a trip when you consider we have no experience whatsoever with the transport. How far is it to this Fox?”

“I’d need to check the map,” Plato replied, perceiving the direction this reasoning was taking them, “but if memory serves, about forty or fifty miles.”

“There you have it.” Blade smiled. “Consider this run to Fox as our test run. It will prepare us for the longer journey to the Twin Cities. We’d have a better chance of getting to Fox and back. And if that isn’t enough,” Blade said, getting personal, “then think of Jenny and Nadine and the others.

Every minute we waste debating is another minute they’re closer to death.

I say we get the SEAL ready and leave as soon as possible.”

Plato’s brow furrowed as he considered their predicament. Finally he nodded agreement. “It’s against my better judgment, but we’ll do it. I can have the transport prepared shortly.”

“Let’s get to it.” Blade placed his left arm around Plato’s slim shoulders and they walked outside.

Hickok was grinning from ear to ear.

“What’s so funny?” Geronimo asked.

“Did you see the look on that Troll’s face when Blade shoved his Bowie into his nuts?”

“Abject terror,” Geronimo said, chuckling.

Hickok sighed happily. “I just love it when the big guy gets forceful!”

“If you fall behind,” the huge, bearded Troll angrily announced, “you die!” He motioned for the women who had stumbled to stand.

Jenny assisted Mary in rising. “You’ve got to be more careful,” Jenny warned her. “These fiends will kill us without any hesitation at the slightest provocation.”

“I’m sorry,” Mary nodded. “I’m just so tired.”

“Aren’t we all,” Jenny agreed.

“Cut the chatter!” one of the Trolls commanded. “Move!”

The women silently obeyed, Jenny in the lead. The Trolls had tied the women together using one long rope, looping it around each woman’s neck. The biggest Troll, the one with the beard, the evident leader of this foray, held one end of the rope in his brawny left hand. In his right he held a machete; around his waist he wore a cartridge belt and a revolver. Eight other Trolls flanked him, four on each side, covering the string of captured women. Behind the row of women, constantly scanning the rear for any indication of pursuit, walked seven more Trolls.

Jenny’s feet were killing her. How long had they been walking? She estimated it was well into the afternoon of the day following their abduction, and all eight Family women were extremely fatigued. They had been on the move all night and all day. The Trolls were wary, expecting the Family to swiftly retaliate. The leader, in particular, seemed disappointed when pursuit failed to materialize. Jenny had to admit her own disappointment. Where were their rescuers? Why hadn’t anyone shown up yet? If the Warriors had started on the trail immediately after the attack on the Home, they certainly would have caught up to the Trolls by now.

Where were they?

“Can’t we stop?” Mary whispered. “I don’t think I can go much further.”

Jenny glanced over her shoulder. Mary, a young Tiller, was behind her.

In order came Daffodil, Saphire, Angela, Lea, Ursa, and Joan. All of the women, Jenny noticed, were relatively young, in their twenties or thirties.

The Trolls hadn’t bothered with the older women. What was the reason?