Madman Run

Chapter Four

She stood behind a shadowed pane crisscrossed with cracks, a vague, slim figure attired in what appeared to be a flowing white dress. Raven tresses cascaded over her shoulders. Unfortunately, the murky interior shrouded her facial features.

“Look!” Blade exclaimed.

Hickok and Geronimo spun, the gunfighter starting to go for his guns until he saw the reason for the cry. “It’s a woman!” he blurted.

“What was your first clue?” Geronimo asked.

Suddenly, her white dress flowing, the phantom disappeared to the right.

“We’ve got to get inside,” Blade said and ran to the rear wall. He scrutinized the vines, then reached out and tugged on one to test it. “These might hold our weight.”

“Might?” Geronimo said, glancing at the nearest window.

“Let’s give it a try,” Blade said, slinging the Marlin over his shoulder and jumping with outstretched arms. He grabbed a stout vine and held on fast. “Let me go first. If the vines support me, we know they’ll support the two of you.”

“Good point,” Hickok said. “You have been gettin’ a mite big in the breadbasket.”

“I’m all muscle, and you know it,” Blade stated, commencing the ascent.

“Keep me covered.”

The gunman stared at the windows and the battlement, ready to fire at the slightest hint of a threat.

“At least now we know there’s someone home,” Geronimo noted. “I wonder who she is.”

“The tooth fairy,” Hickok quipped and stiffened at a loud crackling and snapping noise from above. He took one look and tackled Geronimo, bearing both of them backwards.

“What the…!” Geronimo declared.

Blade fell onto the ground, his powerful legs braced for the impact, and stumbled a few feet before he caught himself. “The vines won’t hold,” he informed them.

“No foolin’,” Hickok said, rising to his knees. “You could have yelled or something. We were almost squished into pancakes.”

“Sorry. It all happened so fast.”

Geronimo stood. “No harm done.”

The giant regarded the window, scowling, and walked to the right.

“We’ll keep searching until we find a way in.”

“And what if we don’t?” Geronimo inquired.

“Then I vote we stay here overnight and try again in the morning.”

The gunman snickered. “Now you want to have a democracy, huh?”

“What do you guys say?”

“If you want to stay, it’s fine with me,” Geronimo said.

“Good,” Blade stated. “I’d really like to get to the bottom of this.”

“Where you guys go, I go,” Hickok said. “Count me in.”

They rounded the southeast corner, passing a compact jumble of vines, and worked their way back to the front entrance without discovering a means of getting in.

“Now what?” Hickok asked.

“We’ll patrol the ground, then make camp,” Blade answered.

“I have a better idea. There are a lot of big trees in these woods. Why don’t we chop one down and use it as a battering ram?” the gunfighter submitted.

“How many times must I tell you that we’re not going to damage the property?”

“Listen to you. You’re the one who said we shouldn’t go bargin’ in on them, and yet you were all set to climb up to a window just because you saw a pretty woman.”

“I have no way of knowing whether she was pretty or not,” Blade responded.

“Listen,” Geronimo interrupted.

“What is it?”

“The little plane.”

Sure enough, Blade heard the unmistakable buzzing of the tiny aircraft and peered skyward to observe it flying in a wide circle above the castle.

“A woman in white, some horse’s butt who likes to laugh to himself, tombs decorated with space cadets who fought bulls for a living, and a midget plane.” Hickok listed their finds. “This is too weird for words.”

“It beats fishing in the moat,” Blade said. “Besides, look at the bright side. Except for the mutates, we haven’t been in any danger.”

“There’s plenty of daylight left, pard.”

Blade headed toward the trees, intending to prowl the area, and was halfway there when the buzzing grew in volume. He gazed upward and saw the plane sweeping toward him. Amused rather than disturbed, he watched the craft dive closer and closer, puzzled by its performance. What purpose did it serve? Was someone foolishly attempting to drive them off using such a toy?

“Can I plug that contraption?” Hickok requested. “It annoys me.”

“No.”

Geronimo raised his hand over his eyes and squinted. “What are those small things attached to the bottom of its wings?”

“Your guess is as good as mine,” Blade said, as he saw the aircraft arc into the heavens again. As it did, a small spherical object dropped from the right wing directly toward them. Blade’s intuition flared, and he gave his friends a shove. “Into the forest! Move!”

Confused, Geronimo and Hickok nonetheless trusted the giant’s judgment enough to obey him instantly and without question. They darted to the northwest.

Blade raced on their heels, his gray eyes glued to the spherical object.

When it was 15 feet from the soil, he threw himself to the ground and bellowed, “Get down!”

Again the pair complied, and not a moment too soon. For when they hit the ground, a blast with the force of a quarter-stick of dynamite rent the air and rocked the ground, sending a shower of dirt upward like an erupting geyser.

Blade was on his feet and running for the trees before the thunderous detonation died away. Clods of earth rained onto his head and shoulders.

He glanced around for Hickok and Geronimo, but both were lost in the grimy cloud.

The miniature plane droned somewhere overhead.

Unslinging the rifle, Blade gazed upward, hoping for a shot. He emerged from the dust into the bright light, spied the aircraft off to the right, and snapped the stock to his shoulder.

Its wings tilting, the plane abruptly banked and flew toward the castle.

Blade tracked the craft, tempted to try even though the odds of hitting it were miniscule. In frustration he lowered the Marlin just as two hacking forms hurtled into the open.

“Where’s the plane?” Hickok asked, his hands on the Colts.

“That way,” Blade disclosed, pointing. “Follow me.” Wheeling, he jogged into the woods and took shelter behind a trunk.

“What the dickens did that thing drop?” the gunfighter asked, halting next to an oak.

“A bomb of some sort,” Geronimo said.

“A couple of feet difference and we would have been goners.”

“I had no idea planes that size could do such a thing,” Blade observed.

“How did it know exactly when to release the bomb?”

“Someone must be controlling it,” Geronimo said.

“Whoever it is, they’re worm food when I catch up with them,” Hickok vowed.

Blade didn’t argue. Whoever lived in the castle clearly wanted them dead. By all rights he should hasten to the Home and report the incident to Attila. But he was a Warrior now, and it wasn’t fitting for a Warrior to let someone else do his fighting. If he wanted to be worthy of the distinction bestowed on him by the Elders, he must prove their judgment to be sound.

Then there was another angle to consider. If the three of them departed, whoever lived in the castle would be free to conduct unwarranted attacks on others who might wander by. Because of the castle’s remote location, such a likelihood was remote. He couldn’t ignore the possibility, though, and still uphold his pledge to safeguard human lives.

“So what now, fearless leader?” Hickok inquired.

“We carry on as planned,” Blade proposed. “First we’ll scour the area, then make camp for the night far enough away to be safe.”

“How far is that?” Geronimo asked. Lacking a definite answer, Blade straightened and moved to the west, conducting a search of the forest. He didn’t know what he was looking for, but he knew he’d recognize it when he saw it. When he bisected a well-worn trail, he nodded in satisfaction.

There were many prints in the soft soil. “What do you make of these tracks, Geronimo?”

Again the Blackfoot youth examined the ground. “It’s the same as before. Lots of footprints, most naked, indicating regular, daily travel.” He paused. “Something else also uses this trail.”

“An animal?”

“If it is, it’s unlike any animal I know of. I’d say these belong to a mutation.”

Blade stepped over to inspect the tracks in question, and one look sufficed to prove Geronimo correct. The tracks were immense, 15 inches long and five wide, and were further distinguished by having only three large, oval toes. From their depth in the soil, the creature must be extremely large.

“Imagine the size of that sucker,” Hickok said.

“Let’s hope we don’t run into it,” Blade commented.

“Makes no nevermind to me,” the gunman responded. “I can always use a little target practice.”

Turning to the left, Blade stuck with the trail, curious about where it might lead. He wasn’t curious long. In no time at all the trail brought them to the edge of the yard, but from the west. He stayed in the trees and stared at the mausoleums, reflecting on their possible significance.

To the north, faint but distinct, was the buzzing of the tiny plane.

“It must still be huntin’ for us,” Hickok said.

“Let’s keep looking around,” Blade proposed and went deeper into the woods.

They hiked a mile to the west without finding anything of importance, then swung to the south, then east, and ultimately wound up back on the side of the castle in the forest near the flower garden. By then the sun hung above the horizon.

“We should think about where we want to make camp,” Geronimo mentioned. “I don’t want to be in the open if there are big mutations roaming this area at night.”

“The only place we can hole up is the castle,” Hickok said.

“We’ll make a lean-to and build a fire,” Blade suggested. “Even mutations are scared of flames.”

“You hope, pard.”

While Geronimo tended to gathering firewood, Blade and Hickok constructed a serviceable lean-to, positioning the open end to the east.

Twilight had descended by the time they were done. Geronimo collected stones and formed a ring. Then he placed tinder he’d gathered earlier in the center and removed a flint from his right front pocket.

“Want me to do any huffin’ and puffin’?” Hickok offered.

“No, thanks. I can manage.”

Blade deposited his backpack inside the lean-to and opened the flap.

Inside was ammunition, rope, an extra pair of pants, a whetstone for the Bowies, a canteen, and a brown leather pouch containing his food supply.

He removed the canteen and several strips of dried venison.

In another minute Geronimo got the fire going, and all three of them sat around the blaze, munching contentedly.

“This ain’t so bad,” Hickok said. “At least I’m not pullin’ guard duty.”

“What’s wrong with guard duty?” Blade asked.

“It’s boring.”

“You should take your responsibilities as a Warrior more seriously.

Boring or not, guard duty is essential to the security of the Family.”

“Lighten up, big guy. I’m not about to sleep on the job, but you have to admit walkin’ the walls leaves a lot to be desired.”

“I like guard duty.”

“You would.”

“What’s your point?”

The gunfighter took a bite of jerky and grinned. “You’re so gung-ho, you make Attila look like a goof-off.”

“I’ll let him know you said that when we get back.”

Geronimo cleared his throat. “Say, did either of you happen to hear the latest rumor?”

“What now?” Blade asked. “The last stupid rumor was something to the effect that Plato had tried to talk my dad into sending an expedition out to discover what happened to the rest of the country after the Big Blast. I checked with my dad, and he said Plato did mention the idea but never formally submitted it to the Elders. Maybe one day he will.”

“This latest rumor has nothing to do with Plato.”

“What is it, pard?” Hickok asked casually.

The corners of Geronimo’s mouth curved upward. “There’s a story going around that a certain young lady has the hots for a certain young man.”

Blade stopped chewing.

“Really?” Hickok said. “I haven’t heard. Who’s the woman?”

“She’s not exactly a woman,” Geronimo replied. “In fact, she’s the same age as us.”

“We don’t want to hear it,” Blade stated gruffly.

The gunfighter glanced in surprise at the giant. “Since when don’t you like to hear juicy gossip? If my memory serves, you were the one who went out of his way to learn everything he could about Rikki-Tikki-Tavi and Tanya. Am I right or am I right?”

Blade gazed at the sky. “You’re blowing everything way out of proportion, as usual.”

The gunfighter laughed. “Am I?” He turned to Geronimo. “Ignore him.

What’s this latest gossip?”

“I was told that Jenny has fallen head over heels for a certain novice Warrior.”

“Jenny?” Hickok snorted. “Some gossip. Everybody knows she’s warm for Blade’s form.”

The giant lost his interest in the heavens. “What do you mean everybody knows?”

“Everybody at the Home, that is. I can’t vouch for the rest of the world.”

Geronimo leaned foward. “Sure, everyone knows they’re in love. But did you know Jenny wants to bind before the year is out?”

“Do tell,” Hickok said, glancing at Blade. “You’re a mite young to be gettin’ hitched, aren’t you?”

“Geronimo doesn’t know what he’s talking about,” Blade declared testily, taking a bite of venison. In the process he accidentally bit his finger.

Hickok snickered. “Oh?”

“I heard the news from Betty, who heard it from Cathy,” Geronimo said. “And we all know Cathy is one of Jenny’s best friends. According to her, Jenny tried to talk our good buddy into tying the knot but he refused.”

The gunman grinned at the giant. “This gets more and more interesting by the moment. Why don’t you want to bind?”

“For the very reason you gave. We’re too young to get married. Maybe in a few years, after I’ve established myself as a Warrior and Jenny has become a fully accredited Healer, we’ll tie the knot. Marriage isn’t a responsibility to be taken lightly.”

“Sounds a lot like guard duty,” Hickok said and cackled.

They ate in silence for a while. Stars blossomed in the firmament, and a full moon rose to the east. A cool breeze afforded refreshing relief from the day’s heat.

“There’s something I’ve wanted to bring up,” Geronimo remarked at one point.

“It’s not more gossip, I hope,” Blade said coldly.

“No. It’s about us. We’ve been best friends since we were in diapers.

When we were kids, we adopted the motto of the Three Musketeers, remember? Well, I’d like to continue this way during our adult years.”

“Get to the point,” Hickok said.

“Okay. After I become a Warrior, why don’t we ask Blade’s father for permission to form our own Triad?”

Blade sipped at his canteen. The idea had merit. Since the Warriors were divided into combat units of three men apiece anyway, why not indeed? “I like the idea.”

“Me, too,” Hickok said. “It’ll save me the trouble of havin’ to break somebody new in to appreciating my refined sense of humor.”

Geronimo chortled. “You have a sense of humor?”

“We would work well as a team,” Blade stated. “I’m sure my dad would agree, and there’s no reason the Elders would object.”

“One for all, and all for one,” Hickok said, grinning.

Geronimo suddenly stood and peered into the shadowy forest to the south. “Do you hear that?”

The gunfighter groaned. “Not again.”

Blade was about to say he didn’t hear a sound, when from off in the distance there came the distinct sound of a large animal—or something else—crashing through the undergrowth. It took him a few seconds to realize the thing was coming directly toward them.