David Robbins - The Fox Run

What happened?”

Buck was trembling in wretched terror. “I don’t know, Saxon! I don’t know! Please don’t hurt me! Please! Please!”

“Hurt you, Buck?” Saxon said. “Why hurt you?”

“You mean you won’t hurt me?” Buck asked, amazed at his good fortune.

“No,” Saxon grinned. “And don’t you want to know why?”

Buck was afraid to ask.

“Don’t you want to know why?” Saxon repeated.

“Why?” Buck finally, timidly, inquired.

Saxon jerked Buck off his feet, suspending him in midair. “The reason I won’t hurt you is because you are the one who is going to go after the bitch. You will take two others with you. You will find her trail and track her until you catch up with her. You will not come back until you do. Is that understood?”

Buck nodded his understanding.

Saxon dropped him to the ground. “Then get going before I decide to cut your fingers off and make you eat them!”

Buck scrambled to his feet, still nodding. “On my way, Saxon.”

“If you catch up with Galen and Trent,” Saxon stated, referring to the two Trolls he had sent to check for pursuit from the Family, “have them help you. You must stop her from reaching their Home. We’ll cover our tracks once we cross the stream, but she can still help them find us. You must find her first.”

Buck motioned for two other Trolls to follow him. He ran to the brush and stopped. “What do we do with her when we find her?” he asked.

“You can have some fun, if you want.” Saxon grinned.

“And after?” Buck licked his thin lips. He liked the idea of having fun with her. It would pay her back for what she had done to his nose. Damn, how it hurt!

“After?” Saxon stared at Jenny. “Kill the bitch!”

“Right.” Buck stooped to enter the brush.

“Buck!” Saxon called.

Buck froze, fearful Saxon had decided to chop his fingers off after all.

“Yes?”

“Bring me her head.”

“Her head?”

“Her head,” Saxon ordered.

“You got it.”

“We’ve wasted enough time as it is,” Blade said, peeved. “We are leaving, now.”

All the Family members were gathered for their departure, except for the Warriors on the walls. Plato had checked and rechecked the SEAL and wanted to go over it one more time.

“I agree,” Hickok chimed in. “Enough delays, already! Let’s get this critter rolling.”

“After what you went through,” Geronimo said, kidding him, “I’m surprised you’re in such a hurry for your second ride.”

“Something tells me,” Hickok remarked, sighing, “I’ll never hear the end of this.”

“Count on it.” Geronimo beamed.

“We should study this map,” Plato said, holding up a map of Minnesota.

“We need to determine the fastest route to Fox.”

Blade took the map. “We’ll read it as we go along.”

Joshua walked up to them. “I’m ready to go,” he announced.

“You’re not going along,” Blade informed him.

“But…” Joshua started to protest, looking at Plato for support.

“But nothing,” Blade interrupted. “If Plato wants us to take you with us when we go to the Twin Cities, we will. Not now.”

“Why not?” Joshua asked.

“Because we aren’t on a peaceful mission,” Blade patiently explained.

“We’re going to rescue the women. There will probably be fighting and killing. It’s no place for someone like you, someone who won’t kill under any circumstances.”

“Maybe I could reason with them,” Joshua objected. “I could talk to them and prevent any bloodshed.”

“Like you did with the one earlier?” Blade reminded him.

Joshua frowned, downcast. He tried one last appeal. “What do you say?” he asked Plato.

“Reluctantly,” Plato said, “I must agree with Blade. This time. You can go with them to the Twin Cities. By then your shoulder will be healed.”

“It’s not my shoulder that hurts the most.” Dejected, Joshua strolled off through the massed Family.

“I didn’t mean to hurt his feelings,” Blade said, apologizing to Plato.

“I know,” Plato replied.

“Have you seen my violin?” Hickok asked Geronimo.

Blade grinned. “Hickok has a point. We’re leaving.” He opened the driver’s door and climbed up into the bucket seat.

Hickok winked at Plato. “Don’t worry, old man. I’ll take real good care of your protege.” He walked around the transport and clambered into the front on the passenger side.

Geronimo silently climbed into the back seat.

“Rikki!” Blade called to the diminutive Warrior.

Rikki-Tikki-Tavi, katana in hand, stepped up to the window.

“You’re in charge of the Warriors until we return,” Blade directed.

“Put your mind at ease,” Rikki responded. “The Home will be secure while you are away.”

“Don’t forget to post guards on all the walls from now on,” Blade fretted.

“It will be done,” Rikki stated.

“And begin selecting candidates,” Blade said. “We must pick three new Warriors and add another Triad after I return.”

“I understand,” Rikki replied.

“He knows what to do, pard,” Hickok interjected. “Maybe you want to stay here and babysit and Geronimo and I will go after the Trolls?”

“See you when we return,” Blade said to Rikki.

“Be well.” Rikki moved aside, and Plato moved next to the window.

“Take care of yourselves.” The Leader gripped Blade’s shoulder. “Bring our sisters back to us.”

“We will,” Blade predicted.

“I can’t emphasize enough how crucial it is that you avoid damaging the transport,” Plato stressed.

“Darn!” Hickok threw in. “Does this mean I can’t enter the SEAL in the Indy 500?”

“What’s the Indy 500?” Geronimo asked.

“It was an annual auto race before the Big Blast,” Plato answered. “It’s mentioned in several books in the library.”

“Time to go,” Blade announced. “Get everyone away from the SEAL.”

“Stand back!” Plato shouted so everyone could hear. “Step away from the vehicle!”

The Family promptly obeyed, giving the SEAL a wide berth, many remembering Hickok’s earlier attempt at navigation and hoping Blade could perform better. The path in front of the transport was completely cleared.

“The Spirit be with you!” Plato spoke on behalf of the Family.

Blade nodded and reached for the key. “Here we go.”

“Say, Blade…” Geronimo spoke up.

“What is it?” Blade paused, ready to turn the engine over.

“You aren’t, by any chance,” Geronimo asked, grinning from ear to ear, “a graduate of the Hickok School of Driving, are you? If so, I think I’ll change my mind and stay here.”

“Ouch.” Hickok slumped in his seat and folded his arms across his chest.

“Knew I wouldn’t hear the end of it.”

Blade turned the key, relieved when the SEAL started. “Hold on,” he said to the others, just in case. He shifted into Drive and gently pressed on the proper pedal. The transport slowly moved forward.

The Family cheered.

Blade waved as the SEAL crossed the compound. The drawbridge was already open, Brian and several men at the control mechanism.

“Aren’t you doing something wrong?” Geronimo leaned over the bucket seat.

“What?” Blade nervously asked.

“Well, you seem to be avoiding the trees,” Geronimo pointed out. “As I recall, that’s not the way Hickok did it.”

Hickok made a show of closing his eyes and groaning.

Brian and the others waved as the vehicle drove over the drawbridge.

“We’re on our way,” Blade said, stating the obvious. He gingerly turned the steering wheel, directing the SEAL on a southerly course. Once they were past the brick wall, he would turn the SEAL due east. Blade realized his palms were sweating. He couldn’t help himself, fearful the vehicle would break down at any moment.