“We don’t need to vote,” Reverend Paul interrupted. “My brethren will do whatever I tell them to do.”
“A vote wouldn’t hurt,” Joshua tactfully offered.
“Maybe,” Paul replied, unwilling to commit himself.
Joshua shrugged, deciding if he pressed the point, forced Paul to agree to a vote, contention might result. “If everyone accepts the move, begin your preparations.”
“Like what?” Bear asked.
“Store what food you can for the journey. Make packs for carrying extra clothes and tools and books and whatever else you want to take along. When you leave the Twin Cities, it might be forever. Whatever you can reasonably take along, take, just so it won’t slow you down.”
“When do you think we could leave?” Zahner brought up the question uppermost on their minds.
“If all goes well,” Joshua answered, “and the Spirit guides us in wisdom and understanding, you could conceivably depart the Twin Cities in late spring or early summer of next year.”
“That long off?” Bear complained.
“We couldn’t possibly be ready before then,” Joshua explained. “And as I noted earlier, you couldn’t make the trip in the winter.”
“Out of the Twins,” Zahner said to himself, realizing the feelings Bertha must have felt. No wonder she had refused to return.
“Is there anything we haven’t covered?” Joshua queried them.
“How soon will you return with news of the Family’s decision?” Reverend Paul wanted to know.
“Give us a month.”
“You won’t run out on us?” Bear demanded.
“Do you believe Hickok would run out on you?” Joshua retorted.
Bear grinned. “No way. If he says he’s gonna do somethin’, then it’s as good as done.”
“I have another suggestion to make,” Joshua said slowly.
“What?” Zahner asked.
“Impose a truce between yourselves. Cease the foolish fighting. Try and work together to prepare for the march to the Home. I know what I am asking is not easy for you, but I pray you will give it a try.”
“It will be difficult,” Reverend Paul admitted. “But not impossible. If I lay down the law, my brethren will comply.”
“The Nomads are more democratic,” Zahner commented acidly. “Still, all of us are committed to achieving peace. I don’t anticipate any trouble in our camp.”
“How about you. Bear?” Joshua faced him.
“Some of the Porns might not like the idea too much,” Bear conceded.
“How will you handle them?”
“Easy.” Bear grinned. “I’ll just tell ’em that whoever don’t like the idea can take it up with Hickok.”
Chapter Twenty-Six
She was patiently waiting for him, sitting up on the cot, propped against three pillows.
Hickok pushed the tent flap aside and entered. “Hello, Black Beauty,” he said softly.
“Don’t just stand there, White Meat!” She motioned with her left arm, her right side still swathed in bandages. “Come over here!”
Hickok complied, stopping next to the cot.
“Don’t I get a hug?” Bertha baited him. “I missed you, honky!” She reached up and pulled him down to the cot, pressing him close with her good arm. He responded, but she sensed an aloof coolness about him, his embrace light and constrained. “Is somethin’ the matter?” she asked as he drew back.
“What could be the matter?” Hickok placed the Henry on the ground.
“I don’t know,” she answered uncertainly. Something was wrong, but what? Why was he acting so cold? Hadn’t he missed her the way she had missed him?
“I’m happy you’re okay,” Hickok stated quietly, smiling.
“I thought you were dead,” she informed him. “I hear that Joshua is alive too. What about Blade and Geronimo?”
Hickok looked down and sadly shook his head.
“I’m really sorry,” she soothed him. “I know how much those two meant to you.”
“They were my best pards.” His voice was choked with sorrow.
“What’s goin’ on out there?” Bertha quickly changed the subject.
“They’re making plans to evacuate the Twins.”
“Really?”
“Yep. They all want to come and live with us, just like you did.”
“Like I still do,” she corrected him. “I’m lookin’ to set up house with a crazy bastard I know.” She noticed he didn’t grin, and her blood raced.
What the hell was wrong? What had she done? Had he found someone else?
“How was it with the Porns?” she questioned him.” I hear you killed thirty of them in a gunfight.
“Not quite,” Hickok replied.
“Meet any good-lookin’ foxes?” she joked, laughing, except in her eyes.
“Nope.”
“You feelin’ okay?”
“Yep. I was bruised a bit, and I had to take a bath…”
“Had to?”
“Don’t ask. Beyond that, it wasn’t any big deal. How are you holding up?” He gently touched her bandaged side.
“They tell me I can’t get out of this cot for a couple of weeks at least,” she said bitterly. “I took an arrow in the chest. I’ll live, but I’ll be a while healing.”
“Who did it?” he demanded angrily. “The Wacks?”
“Uhhhh,” she hesitated, fearful of what he might do if she told him the truth. If Z was right, and peace was just around the corner, it wouldn’t do to have Hickok gun down Tommy and Vint. Well, Vint maybe. But she liked Tommy. “It’s all kind of hazy…” she finally answered.
“You don’t need to talk about it,” Hickok told her.
“Thanks.”
Hickok shifted, trying to find the right words to say to her. Should he tell her about Bear? What Bear had said? Or let her learn for herself, firsthand, from the horse’s mouth, so to speak?
“What are your plans?” she demurely inquired.
“Josh and I are going back to the Home.”
“Oh.” The single word conveyed her depth of despair.
“Hey! Cheer up!” He tenderly stroked her neck. “I’m coming back.”
Bertha averted his gaze. She was confused and emotionally torn by his reserved demeanor.
“I will be back,” Hickok vowed. “We’re going to the Home to see if the Family will accept the relocation scheme. After the Family votes on it, I’m coming right back. Even if they vote against the plan, I’m coming back. I have a number of things to settle here.”
Bertha was at a total loss for words.
“You have some settling to do yourself,” he advised her.
“I do?”
“You do.”
“I don’t understand.”
Hickok sighed, weariness pervading his soul.
“What do you mean?” Bertha asked him.
Hickok stared at the tent opening. “I met a friend of yours. Says the two of you are very… close.”
“Who?”
“He calls himself Bear.”
“Bear?” Bertha leaned forward, delighted. “My good buddy Bear! He’s still alive!”
“Yep. He is a… friend… of yours, then?”
“You bet your white ass!” Bertha giggled. “We went through a lot together. He saved me from Maggot.”
“I know.”
“Good ol’ Bear!” Bertha exclaimed cheerfully. “There wasn’t anyone I was closer to when I was with the Porns.” She failed to detect the hardening of Hickok’s jaw and the narrowing of his blue eyes.
“That’s what I gathered,” Hickok slowly* commented.
“Where is he?” Bertha inquired.
“He’s outside.” Hickok stood. “I’ll tell him you’re in here. I don’t think he knows.”
“No!” she began to protest. “I didn’t mean…”
“It’s okay.” He bent over and grabbed the Henry. “I can use the fresh air.” He walked to the tent flap.
“Hicko
k!” Bertha attempted to rise, to follow him, but she was overcome by severe dizziness.
Hickok paused in the tent opening. “Like I told you, I’ll be back to see you. While I’m gone, get your affairs straightened out.”
“Hickok!”
He was gone, the flap swaying in the breeze.
“Hickok!”
Bertha pushed herself to the edge of the cot and swung her legs over the side. The effort proved too much, and she collapsed onto the pillows, coughing, her right side in agony.
“Hickok,” she mumbled, tears filling her eyes, her heart breaking.
“Why?”
Chapter Twenty-Seven
They were walking north on State Highway 47, just the two of them, the afternoon sun beating on them mercilessly.
“The SEAL isn’t far,” Joshua commented. “I can see the trees up ahead where we hid the transport.”
“Yep,” Hickok absently nodded.
“You certain you’re all right?” Joshua asked.
“How many times do I have to tell you?” Hickok snapped, irritated. “I’m just dandy.”
“And rocks can sing.”
“What?”
“I realize your personal life is your affair…”
“You got that right.”
“…but I can’t help being concerned. You’ve been moping since I saw you at the Porn headquarters. If there is anything I can assist you with, dear brother, you know I will.”
Hickok stared fondly at Joshua. “Sorry, Josh. I’ve had a heap on my mind. I’ve lost a lot on this damn trip, more than I counted on losing.”
“I know what you mean,” Josh said sadly. “I find it hard to believe Blade and Geronimo have passed on to the mansions on high.”
They reached the field bordering the trees and tramped through the thick grass.
“Me too.”
“I wonder if the Wacks got them, or someone else?” Joshua morbidly speculated.
“Does it matter?”
“No. I guess not.”
“I just want to get the hell out of here,” Hickok said bitterly.
“They didn’t want to let us go,” Joshua stated, referring to Bear, Zahner, and Reverend Paul. “I think they’re worried we might not make it back, despite our good intentions.”
“A person never knows when his number is up,” Hickok philosophized.
“Let’s hear it for optimism!” Joshua grinned.
“I ain’t feeling very optimistic these days,” Hickok said.
They were almost to the stand of trees.
“Did you hear something?” Hickok stopped and hefted his Henry.
“No.” Joshua came to a halt. “Did you?”
“Yep.” Hickok moved several steps ahead of Joshua. “Stay behind me. If anything happens, get back to Zahner. I trust him to take care of you.”
“But…”
Hickok motioned for silence. “Stay here,” he whispered.
Joshua nodded.
Hickok crouched and entered the trees, ducking under limbs and carefully circumventing tree trunks and bushes. Had the SEAL been discovered? If so, by whom? The damned Wacks? He doubted anyone could move the vehicle. Blade had locked the doors, and there was no way the impervious body could be breached.
Blade had locked the doors!
Hickok froze, stupefied. How the hell were they going to get inside the vehicle? Blade had the only set of keys! He’d forgotten! His only consolation was that Joshua hadn’t realized their predicament either.
The crunch on the twig alerted him to the danger behind him, and he spun, bringing the Henry up, too late.
A powerful figure slammed into him and forced him to the ground, knees gouging his stomach.
Hickok dropped the Henry, his right hand flashing to his Python, the Colt out and up and cocked before he recognized his assailant.
“You crazy Indian!” Hickok exploded. “You almost got yourself killed!”
Geronimo, astride Hickok’s chest, reared back and laughed.
“What’s so funny?” Hickok demanded.
“You should have seen your face!” Geronimo couldn’t contain his hilarity.
“Get off me!” Hickok bellowed. “Only you would pull a stunt like this!”
Geronimo rose to his feet, slapping his thigh in merriment.
“Indians always were sneaking up on the white man,” Hickok grumbled as he stood, dusting his buckskins off.
“Admit it.” Geronimo grinned. “I got you, but good.”
Hickok bolstered his Colt, smiled, and clasped his arms around Geronimo. “Damn! It’s good to see you, pard!”
There was a crashing in the underbrush behind them, and Joshua broke into view.
“Geronimo!” Joshua shouted. He ran to them and hugged Geronimo, pounding him on the back. “Geronimo! We thought you were dead!”
“And we thought you were dead.”
“We?” Hickok questioned hopefully. “Did you say we?”
Geronimo nodded. “He’s in the rear of the SEAL. He was pretty beat up when I found him.”
Hickok and Joshua rushed to the SEAL and climbed in.
Blade was dozing in the rear section. He roused as they clambered inside, his eyes widening in disbelief. “It can’t be!” he said, gaping at his two friends in the back seat.
Hickok glanced at Joshua. “If this is all the welcome we’re gonna get, I say we go back into the Twins. Even the Wacks are friendlier than this big lug.”
Blade reached for them across the seat, gripping their hands in his. “I thought we lost you,” he said, his voice shaking. “I can’t believe it!”
“Ever the eloquent sort, eh?” Hickok wisecracked.
“What happened to you?” Joshua asked Blade, pointing at the hole in his pants on his left thigh, the fabric caked with dried blood.
“Arrow,” Blade replied. “The Wacks. They came close.”
“We all had our share of close calls, pard,” Hickok stated.
“We decided to come back here and wait for you,” Blade said as Geronimo climbed into the passenger-side bucket seat. “If there was any chance you were still alive, we knew you’d make it back here. We’d about given up hope.”
“Where’s Bertha?” Geronimo queried.
Hickok glanced at the floor. “She was injured too. She’s with the Nomads, recuperating. She’ll be bedridden for a couple of weeks. We’ll pick her up when we come back.”
“Come back?” Geronimo repeated. “Did I hear you correctly?”
“Sure did, pard,” Hickok said.
“Why are we coming back?” Blade inquired. “I don’t know about you, but I’ve had all of this place I can stand.”
“Joshua can explain on our way to the Home,” Hickok declared.
“What about the equipment Plato wants us to get?” Joshua commented.
“What about it?” Hickok demanded. “The old man doesn’t know what we’ve been through. He’ll understand when we come back empty-handed.
When we return to the Twins, we’ll have all the time we’ll need to scour this city for the stuff Plato wants. Another month won’t make that much difference, will it?” He turned to Blade.
Blade scratched his head.
“Hickok has a point,” Geronimo stressed. “All of us have been battered rather badly. We’re not at peak efficiency, and anything less in the Twin Cities can be fatal. I don’t see where another month will make any difference.” He glanced at Hickok. “Although I’m curious to hear the reason for returning in a month.”
“We’ll get to that,” Hickok said. “How about it, Blade? Do we head for Home, or stay and continue our search for the items Plato wants?”
“All your considerations are valid,” Blade stated. “I agree we’re not in fighting form, and we can’t jeopardize our lives, the SEAL, and our mission by obstinately pursuing our assignment when common sense dictates we should regroup and try again.” He grinned at Hickok.
“Besides, if we’re coming back to the Twin Cities in a
month, we can try and get what Plato needs then.”
“Then we head for the Home?” Joshua asked.
“We head for the Home.” Blade smiled, thinking of Jenny and the reception awaiting him.
“So why are we coming back here in a month?” Geronimo faced Joshua.
“What say we get this show on the road?” Hickok gazed out at the trees.
“We can be well out of the Twins by dark.”
“Good idea.” Blade reached into his right front pocket. “Here.” He handed the keys to Hickok.
“You want me to drive?” Hickok took the keys hesitantly.
“I don’t think I could, not with my leg the way it is,” Blade replied. “And you’re the only other one with experience.”
Geronimo made a show of rolling his eyes toward the heavens. “Great Spirit! First the Wacks! Then the rats! And now this! Hickok is going to drive again! I must have been overdue for spiritual testing and tribulation!” He smiled at Hickok.
“I see your wonderful, warped sense of humor is still intact, pard,” Hickok cracked. He climbed out and back into the SEAL, perching nervously on the driver’s seat.
“You can do it, Nathan,” Blade said, expressing his confidence in Hickok.
“Piece of cake.”
The transport flawlessly turned over, and Hickok carefully backed the vehicle from the trees. He quickly crossed the field and bore north on State Highway 47.
“Back to our Home, sweet Home,” Hickok announced as he accelerated.
“I can hardly wait,” Blade commented, reclining, placing his hands under the back of his head. “It will be great to see Jenny again.”
“I’m relishing the prospect of seeing my parents,” Joshua admitted.
“I’ve missed them.”
“The trip to the Twin Cities won’t be a total loss,” Blade stated.
“How do you figure?” Hickok asked, concentrating on his steering, thrilling to the sensation of power and speed conveyed by the SEAL.
“We know what to expect when we return,” Blade pointed out. “We won’t come blundering into the Twin Cities in the middle of the night again. We won’t walk into another trap. We’ve learned valuable lessons this time. Next time, we’ll be prepared.”
Hickok chuckled and winked at Joshua.
Twin Cities Run Page 20