Atlanta Run

Chapter Eight

“Where the blazes are those cow chips?”

“What’s a cow chip?”

Hickok glanced at Chastity. “Never you mind, missy.” He faced the metropolis, surveying the highway. A stand of trees and brush obstructed his view of Blade. He’d seen his friend reach the road and head for the city, and he’d expected Rikki to intercept Blade before the giant had gone very far. But Blade had proceeded for hundreds of yards, with Hickok keeping his eyes glued to his sidekick every step of the way until the vegetation blocked his view. “Rikki should have caught up with Blade by now,” he commented.

“He didn’t,” Chastity said.

“How do you know?”

“Because there’s Blade,” Chastity stated, pointing at the wall.

Hickok swiveled, recognizing, even at such a distance, Blade’s unmistakable form near a gate. Figures in blue were visible. “Blast!”

“What’s wrong?” Chastity inquired.

“Rikki was supposed to stop Blade,” Hickok said. “What went wrong?”

“I don’t know. What do we do now?”

The gunman looked at the child, then at the city. Blade was entering Atlanta, escorted by troopers!

“Do we stay here?” Chastity questioned.

“I need to chew this over a bit,” Hickok said.

Chastity’s forehead creased and she gazed at his hands. “I don’t see any food.”

“I didn’t mean food.”

“Do you have candy?” Chastity asked hopefully.

“Nope.”

“Then what are you going to chew?”

Hickok sighed and patted her head. “You’re lucky that you weren’t born a cat.”

“Why?”

“Never mind.”

“Do you know something?” Chastity queried.

“What?”

“Sometimes you say the weirdest things.”

“Hush,” Hickok told her. “I’m tryin’ to think.” He scratched his chin and stroked his mustache, debating his options. His initial impulse was to go into Atlanta after Blade, but he would need to tote the girl, risking her capture or worse. He could stay put until Blade and Rikki returned, but he didn’t cotton to the notion of twiddling his thumbs when his buddies might be in trouble. Or he could search for Rikki. He decided the third course was best. “Come on,” he directed, rising.

Chastity stood. “Where are you taking me?”

“We need to find Rikki,” Hickok said.

“Is he lost?”

“Either that or taking a nature break.”

Chastity cocked her head to the left. “What’s a nature break?”

“Never mind.”

“You sure say that a lot.”

“Walk right behind me,” Hickok instructed her. “Be as quiet as you can.”

“Like a little mouse?”

Hickok nodded, grinning. “Like a mouse.” He slung Blade’s M-16 over his right shoulder, insured the Uzi was snug under his left arm, and loosened the Pythons in their holsters.

“I can carry one of your guns,” Chastity offered.

“No thanks.”

“Aren’t they heavy?”

“No.”

“Then why can’t I carry one?”

“Because I don’t want you shootin’ yourself in the foot,” Hickok said.

“I won’t shoot it. I promise.”

“No.”

“You’re no fun,” Chastity declared.

“My missus says the same thing.” Hickok walked into the undergrowth, alert for anything out of the ordinary. Rikki’s absence confounded him.

The Family’s supreme martial artist was capable of handling any foe,and taking Rikki unawares was next to impossible. So where the dickens was he?

“Where is your family?” Chastity inquired.

“Hush up.”

“You’re not being nice.”

Hickok halted and looked back. “We can’t make any noise, Chastity.

There are a lot of bad things in the forest. We must be very careful.”

Her eyes widened as he gazed at high weeds to the right. “Do you mean more icky things?”

Hickok nodded.

“I’ll be quiet,” Chastity promised.

The Warrior turned and resumed his hunt, his hands resting on his Colts. There wasn’t a clear path in sight, and he had no way of knowing the exact direction Rikki had taken toward the highway. He skirted a tree and threaded through a cluster of bushes, constantly checking on Chastity.

Her fright was transparent, and she repeatedly bumped into his legs as she tried to stick close to him.

Birds were chirping in a tree to the left.

Hickok became increasingly annoyed the farther they traveled. The forest had swallowed Rikki-Tikki-Tavi without a trace. He reached a clearing and stopped, his blue eyes narrowing as his gaze fixed on the great hole in the center.

“What’s that?” Chastity whispered anxiously.

“A trap,” Hickok answered, then advanced. He moved to the rim of the pit and examined the caved-in covering. Someone had done a dandy job of camouflaging the affair. With Rikki in a hurry to reach Blade, the martial artist might not have noticed until too late.

“Did Rikki fall in?”

“Maybe,” Hickok replied, stepping around the pit, inspecting the ground. He found scuff marks on the far side and partial footprints leading to the east. The bottom of the pit did not contain spikes or stakes, and there was no evidence of blood. Rikki must still be alive!

“Hickok.”

“Not now.”

“It’s important.”

The gunman stared at the girl. “What could be so danged important?”

“I have to tinkle.”

“What?”

“I have to tinkle.”

“You have to go to the bathroom?”

Chastity nodded sheepishly.

“Now?”

“I’m sorry,” Chastity said.

“Don’t be sorry,” Hickok declared. “When you have to go, you have to go. So go.”

“Will you watch me?”

Hickok motioned at the trees. “A lady doesn’t let a man watch her tinkle.”

Chastity looked at the woods. “An icky thing could get me.”

“I’ll stand guard,” Hickok offered. “You can go behind one of the trees.”

“You won’t let an icky thing get me?”

“I said I’d stand guard,” Hickok reiterated, leading her to the trees to the south. “Now get to it.”

Chastity nervously walked around the wide trunk of a lofty maple tree.

Hickok leaned against the trunk and impatiently waited for her to finish. He watched the tops of the trees rustle and saw a flock of sparrows winging to the west.

Several minutes elasped.

“Are you done?” Hickok demanded.

Chastity did not respond.

The Warrior straightened and turned. “Are you done, little one?”

“Yes,” she replied, but whispering so softly the word was barely audible.

“Speak up,” Hickok said.

“I can’t,” Chastity whispered.

“Why not?”

“The thing might get mad.”

“What thing?” Hickok asked, hastening to her aid, taking four strides and freezing in midstep, his hands on his Pythons, his skin prickling.

“Don’t move!”

“I won’t,” Chastity said softly.

And well she shouldn’t. The slightest move could cause the creature ten feet away to launch itself at her. The thing was a mutant, a hideous beast with a squat torso and long, thin arms and legs. Shaggy brown hair covered its form. An oversized head rested on sloping shoulders. Above a slit of a mouth and a flat nose were baleful black eyes, fixed on the girl.

Hickok had never seen anything like it. The creature somewhat resembled photographs of apes in the Family library, but he was at a loss to explain the presence of apes in Georgia—unless several had escaped a zoo or circus during the Big Blast and their progeny had survived. The thing vaguely reminded him of a chimpanzee, but a monstrous, deformed caricature of the breed.

The beast growled, its lips stretching to reveal nasty, tapered teeth.

“Hickok,” Chastity said, sounding extremely scared.

“Don’t move!” Hickok advised.

But she did.

The creature growled again and took a lumbering pace forward, its arms reaching out.

Chastity screamed and bolted, dashing past the Warrior, fleeing into the clearing.

With a feral snarl, the mutant gave chase, astoundingly swift for such an ungainly animal. Relishing the prospect of a fresh meal, slavering at the mouth, the thing was not inclined to tolerate any interlopers.

Hickok’s Pythons were sweeping free of their holsters when the mutant slammed into him.