The Kalispell Run

by David Robbins

  Goldman was unarmed.

  Hickok inched his door open, thankful a dresser partially obscured him from the others.

  “This wench refuses the honor of sleeping with me,” Wolfe declared indignantly. “You will strip her and bind her arms for me.”

  “As you wish,” Goldman obediently responded, bowing.

  “Just try it!” Sherry warned.

  Goldman, relishing his task, walked toward the blonde, his lips curled in a vicious sneer. “You’ll do as you’re told, bitch!” He lunged for the woman.

  Sherry, retreating, lost her footing and fell.

  Goldman covered the three feet between them and stood at her feet, gloating. “I’m looking forward to this,” he growled.

  “Then I sure hope you can handle disappointment,” said a new voice, and Hickok stepped into view, the Henry leveled and ready.

  “You!” Goldman hissed, enraged. “Here!”

  “Did you think I would leave without saying so long?” Hickok asked sarcastically. “After all we’ve meant to each other?”

  Wolfe, incredibly, was smiling, at ease. “It appears I have greatly underestimated you, Hickok. I won’t make that mistake ever again.”

  “You won’t get the chance,” Hickok assured him. “Undo your belt and slide my Pythons over here. Slowly! One hasty move, and the Moles will need a new leader.”

  Wolfe carefully complied, depositing the Colts at the foot of his bed.

  “Now, Sherry,” Hickok said, keeping his eyes on the two Moles. “Stand up. Don’t get between Goldman and me! That’s it! Come over here and take the Henry.”

  Sherry’s affection was radiating from her relieved face as she raised the Henry to her shoulder.

  “Keep it on Wolfe,” Hickok advised. “If he reaches for that rope, put a bullet between his eyes.”

  “With pleasure,” Sherry assured him.

  Hickok, warily watching the red-faced Goldman, sauntered to the bed and lifted his Colts. “I’ll never let these babies out of my sight again,” he vowed.

  “What’s next?” Wolfe inquired as the gunfighter slid the Pythons into his own empty holsters.

  “If you’re a good little boy, and keep your big mouth shut, you may come out of this alive,” Hickok stated.

  “How do I rate?” Wolfe, surprised, questioned him.

  “Let’s just say I’m in a generous mood,” Hickok replied. “Plus you’re going to give me your word that you’ll stop your raids until we send a delegation from the Family and hold a conference with you.”

  “Why should I give my word?”

  “Do you care about your people?”

  “Of course I do!”

  “Then why shouldn’t you give your word? What have you got to lose?

  My Family can assist your people in learning to live off the land, in improving their lives. You keep on the way you’re going, and sooner or later the Moles will run into someone bigger and stronger. Your Mound will be reduced to a pile of rubble.” Hickok paused, studying the Mole leader. Had he read the man right? Was there a chance of striking a deal with this pompous ass?

  “Stop… raiding?” Wolfe said, his brow creased. “I don’t know if my people are ready to change.”

  “Oh, come off it!” Hickok retorted. “Are you going to spend all eternity in this mud heap? Wouldn’t you like to live above ground again, breathing fresh air and enjoying the sunlight?”

  Wolfe stared at Hickok. “You are a constant source of amazement to me.”

  “What about it?” Hickok pressed him. “Do I have your word? Prove you’re a real leader, and not just a walking hard-on with a cock for brains.”

  Wolfe, offended, almost returned the insult. Instead, he composed himself and smiled. “I give you my word I will not order any more raids until I hear from you. But I must warn you. I think you expect too much from my people.”

  “I thought you said you’d never underestimate anyone again,” Hickok remarked.

  “I take back what I said before,” Wolfe commented. “You do have an intellect. You simply hide it well.”

  “What about me?” Goldman snarled.

  “Ahhhhh. You.” Hickok faced Goldman and deliberately drew his Pythons.

  Goldman, expecting to be gunned down, flinched.

  Hickok moved forward, stopping a foot from his implacable foe.

  “Go ahead! Shoot!” Goldman defiantly blustered. “I didn’t think you had the guts to take me on one-on-one.”

  Hickok, grinning, shoved his lefthand Colt under Goldman’s leather belt, underneath the waistband near the navel, leaving the butt free. He took two steps backward and aligned his other Python in a similar position under his belt. “Any time,” he said in a menacing tone, “you think you’re ready.”

  Goldman, slack-jawed, gaped at the revolver at his waist.

  “Something wrong?” Hickok asked.

  Goldman glanced at Wolfe.

  “He challenged you,” the Mole leader stated matter-of-factly. “Don’t look at me for help.”

  Goldman, pale and sweating, stared at Hickok. “I don’t want to do this,” he protested.

  “Pretty feeble excuse,” Hickok remarked. “You have no other choice.”

  “What if I don’t draw?” Goldman inquired hopefully.

  “I’ll shoot you anyway.”

  “You would, wouldn’t you?” Goldman took a deep breath and relaxed his hands.

  “Any time you’re ready,” Hickok repeated, patiently standing with his arms at his side.

  “I might beat you,” Goldman commented. “I’m not bad with a handgun.”

  Hickok waited.

  “You’re not as tough as you think you are,” Goldman said, hoping his chatter would distract the gunfighter.

  Hickok’s blue eyes were centered on Goldman’s navel.

  “Silvester seemed to think you’re a dangerous man,” Goldman mentioned. “Personally, I think you’re an asshole. A dumb asshole, at that.”

  Sherry’s heavy breathing filled the chamber.

  “Go on!” Goldman suddenly shouted. “Make your play!”

  Instead, he made his.

  Goldman fancied himself fast, he’d often practiced a quick draw with a pistol he possessed, so as his hand flashed toward the Python, his astonishment was all the more compounded when Hickok’s Colt was already out and up before he even touched the butt on his revolver.

  Hickok rammed the barrel of his Python into Goldman’s stomach and pulled the trigger.

  The blast of the Colt was effectively muffled by Goldman’s abdomen. He literally flew backward as the slug exited his back, splintering his spinal column. Blood sprayed over the furniture as he stumbled and fell onto his back, his bearded features frozen in a contorted death mask, his green eyes wide in disbelief.

  Hickok slowly walked over to the body and picked up his other Colt. He wiped the Python against his pant leg, removing crimson splotches from the pearl handles.

  Finally, he twirled the Colts into their respective holsters, shook his blond head, and smiled. “Piece of cake,” he said to himself.

  Wolfe was gazing at the gunfighter in awe. “I’ve never seen anyone as fast as you.”

  Hickok patted his Pythons. “Lots of practice.”

  “You can’t wring water from a stone,” Wolfe observed. “I could practice all my life and never be as fast as you. It takes talent, and you have it.”

  “Flattery from you?”

  “No. The truth.”

  Hickok glanced around the room. “Would there happen to be a knife in the house?”

  Wolfe, chuckling, reached into his right front pocket and withdrew a small folding knife. “Will this suffice?”

  Hickok moved to the bed and took the proffered penknife. “You do understand I have to do this? Just as a precaution.”

  Wolfe nodded. “I understand. Do what you must.”

  “Lie face down on the bed,” Hickok directed. After the Mole leader obeyed, Hickok climbed onto the bed and used the kni
fe to cut a two-foot length from the rope Wolfe used to signal Goldman. He was careful not to pull too hard on the rope as he sliced it. No sense in inviting any more Moles to their farewell party.

  “Now put your hands behind your back,” Hickok ordered. As he securely tied Wolfe’s wrists, he winked at Sherry. “Hang in there, babe.

  Before you know it, we’ll be safe and sound back at the Home.” Satisfied with his knots, he jumped from the bed and began pulling the purple blankets from under the mattresses on the two kingsize beds.

  Wolfe, watching the proceedings, nodded appreciatively. “You don’t take chances. I’ll give you that.”

  Hickok paused, holding the corners of one of the blankets. “Before I wrap this up,” he said, amused by his pun, “I have a few words to say to you. I don’t know how seriously you took what I said before, but you better. You’ve been lucky so far. The Trolls never found your Mound, or you’d be dog meat by now. Oh, sure, you were able to defeat those who survived their fight with us. But if the Trolls had been at full strength, the outcome might have been completely different. There’s another bunch we’ve tangled with, called the Watchers. They’re one mean passel of hombres. I’m not exaggerating when I tell you they have more firepower than you can ever hope to muster. The point I’m trying to make is this.

  You could use some friends in this world, an ally you could rely on to help you out if things got tough. My Family has been lucky too. We’ve been pretty insulated in our Home, out of touch with the rest of the world.

  We’ve survived as a close-knit clan all these years. But I’ve got this feeling all that is about to change. A lot of people know about us now, and for better or for worse, that spells change. My Family could use some friends.

  You think about it, Wolfe. The future of the Moles is in your hands.”

  “I will consider everything you have said,” Wolfe promised.

  Hickok nodded and started wrapping the purple blankets around the lean giant.

  Sherry joined him. “And here I thought all you did was kill, kill, kill.”

  “What do you mean?”

  “All those things you just said to him,” Sherry said. “I never thought of you as a man of peace.”

  “I have this friend,” Hickok began.

  “The one named Joshua?” Sherry interrupted.

  “Yeah. Josh. He taught me an important lesson when we were in the Twin Cities. Killing isn’t everything. There are other ways of dealing with enemies, if you can take the time to talk about your differences.”

  “I’m looking forward to meeting this Joshua,” Sherry remarked.

  “I hope your ears are in good shape,” Hickok wryly commented.

  “What?”

  “Nothing.” Hickok surveyed his handiwork.

  Wolfe was enclosed in a cocoon of purple blankets, covered from head to toe.

  “You okay in there?” Hickok asked him.

  “Just fine,” came the muted response. “A little hot.”

  “I just thought of something,” Hickok said, snapping his fingers. “Is there another way out of here?” he inquired, tapping on the bundled blankets. “I don’t want to kill any more of your people if I can help it.”

  “Look behind the big cabinet in the corner,” Wolfe replied. “There’s a hidden air shaft and a ladder. It’ll take you straight up to the surface.

  You’ll be in the forest north of the Mound proper.”

  “Thanks,” Hickok said, walking toward the door he’d used to enter.

  “Where are you going?” Sherry questioned him.

  “To get some friends,” Hickok answered, stopping at the door. “I’ll be right back.” He crossed the antechamber and stepped outside.

  Shane and Wally were now training their guns on three Moles.

  “This one showed up with a tray of food while you were inside,” Wally informed him, motioning toward the newcomer.

  The terrified Mole, still holding the tray of food, was visibly quaking, his knobby knees shaking violently.

  Hickok laughed. “Howdy, Silvester. You in the food business now?”

  “Hickok!” Silvester cried, his delight lighting up his face. “Am I glad to see you.”

  “I’ll bet.” Hickok glanced at Shane. “Take the two guards inside and find something to tie them up with. Make sure they can’t free themselves.”

  Shane nodded and led the guards into the antechamber, Wally bringing up the rear.

  “You escaped from the cells!” Silvester marveled. “No one has ever done that before.”

  Hickok draped his left arm across Silvester’s narrow shoulders. “I’d like to take the time to shoot the breeze with you, but I’ve got to run. You’ll be seeing me again.” He stared along the tunnel, insuring it was empty.

  Silvester noticed his gaze. “No one comes here unless Wolfe tells them to,” he explained.

  “Speaking of your fearless leader,” Hickok said, “didn’t you tell me you were on the outs with him?”

  “I’m not one of his favorite people,” Silvester admitted. “I saw my sister. Gloria still hasn’t gone to bed with him.”

  “I’m surprised he hasn’t forced her,” Hickok commented.

  “No. He only does that with outside women.”

  “Well, anyway, how would you like to be one of his favorite people?”

  Hickok asked.

  “I don’t see how…”

  “Trust me. After I go through that door, count to one hundred. Can you do that?”

  “I know how to count,” Silvester stated indignantly. “I can even read a little bit.”

  “Good. Then count to one hundred and go inside. You’ll find Wolfe on his bed. You’ll know what to do.”

  “What do you…”

  Hickok waved and walked to the door. “You’ll know what to do. Believe me, Wolfe will thank you for it. Take care, pard.” He stepped into the antechamber.

  Shane and Wally were tying the guards with strips of torn clothing.

  “Tie them tight,” Hickok advised, then re-entered the bedroom.

  Sherry ran into his arms. “I can’t believe you’ve done it! I’ll never doubt you again.”

  “You’re a woman. Want to bet?”

  “Since when are men any better?” Sherry rejoined.

  Hickok chuckled.

  Shane and Wally joined them.

  “They won’t be getting loose this year,” Wally boasted. He spotted Goldman and his mouth dropped. “Do you always leave bodies wherever you go?”

  “He does have that habit,” Sherry answered for him.

  “Follow me,” Hickok directed.

  It was a simple matter for them to lift the cabinet from the wall, locate the hidden air shaft, and scale the ladder to the surface. They pushed aside a camouflaged trap door and clambered out of the shaft.

  “The air smells so sweet,” Sherry mentioned, taking deep breaths and brimming with happiness.

  The night sky was filled with stars and a half-moon.

  “Are you coming with us?” Hickok asked Wally.

  The big man shook his head. “I’ve got to go to Ten-strike and see if I can find my family.”

  “Good luck,” Sherry offered.

  “May the Spirit guide you,” Hickok stated. “You’re welcome at our Home any time.”

  “I’ll keep that in mind.”

  “So long,” Shane said.

  Wally, carrying a rifle, with a pistol around his waist, waved and walked into the woods.

  “Which way?” Shane asked, likewise armed with one of the door guard’s pistols and a rifle.

  “Which way do you think?” Hickok retorted. “I’m not about to sponsor someone for Warrior status if they can’t read the stars.”

  “Spon…” Shane sputtered, staring at the gunman in disbelief. “You can’t mean it! Not after the way I’ve handled myself.”

  “I intend to do it because of the way you’ve handled yourself,” Hickok explained. “You did real well down there. Although,” he pa
used, “you’re a mite too quiet for my tastes.”

  “I’ve had a lot on my mind,” Shane explained. “I’ve felt like I’ve failed everybody. You. My father. Plato. I’ve been dreading going back, thinking everyone would laugh at me.”

  “When you make stupid mistakes,” Hickok said, “you’ve got to expect folks to laugh at you. If you have a sense of humor, you’ll get through it okay.”

  “Then you’re really going to sponsor me?” Shane inquired hopefully.

  “I’m a man of my word.”

  Shane clenched his fists and spun in his tracks, laughing.

  “Try to control your enthusiasm,” Hickok stated. “We’d best put as much distance between the Moles and us as we can, and do it fast.”

  “Don’t you trust Wolfe?” Sherry asked.

  “Not until he proves he’s trustworthy,” Hickok replied. He reached out and grabbed her, pulling her into his arms and embracing her.

  “Please! Shane’s right here!”

  “So he’ll learn something. What’s with the sudden modesty?”

  Sherry squirmed playfully in his arms. “You said we had to get out of here,” she reminded him.

  “There’s always time for this,” Hickok declared, kissing her passionately on the lips.

  Shane, embarrassed, politely turned away, keeping his eyes on the trap door and the surrounding forest.

  The kiss lingered and lingered.

  Sherry, at last, pulled back, her eyes closed, her warm form straining against his hard body. “MMMMMMmmmmmm. Nice.”

  “Did you just hear something?” Shane inquired.

  “Like what?” Hickok asked, nibbling on Sherry’s left ear.

  “I don’t know…” the youth stated uncertainly.

  “Don’t move!”

  The harsh command, barked from the concealing cover of the encircling forest, riveted the trio where they stood.

  Blast! How could he have been so dumb? Hickok abruptly realized they were standing in the center of a clearing approximately twenty feet in diameter, completely enclosed by the dense forest.

  “Don’t move!” the deep voice bellowed again.

  “It was a trap!” Sherry whispered to Hickok. “They were waiting for us!”

  “They sure were,” Hickok replied through clenched teeth.

  “But how…?”

  “Wolfe,” Hickok deduced. “They found the guards we overpowered before we reached his chambers. He must have figured we’d come after you and set this whole thing up. Pretty clever of the bastard! And I fell for it, like the prize sucker of the year!”