Dakota Run

Chapter Twenty-Four

“Can I tell you something, pard?”

“Of course.”

“You promise not to tell anyone?”

“I promise.”

“Are you sure you won’t tell anyone?”

Blade sighed. “Nathan, if you’re that worried about it, then don’t tell me.”

Hickok was nervously rubbing his hands together. “But I’ve got to tell someone.”

“Then tell me.”

Hickok scanned their immediate vicinity to insure they were alone. The two Warriors were standing near one of the few trees in the commons area, attired in their best clothes. Hickok wore a new set of buckskins and new moccasins, his Pythons were polished, the pearl handles gleaming in the afternoon sunlight, and his hair was neatly combed. Blade wore clean fatigue pants confiscated from the Watchers, a white shirt stitched together from the remnants of an old sheet, and his black vest. His Bowies were strapped around his waist.

The Family was assembled twenty yards from the Warriors, every member wearing their finest clothes. Omega Triad was on duty on the walls, but Spartacus and Seiko were temporarily relieved from guarding the prisoners for this special occasion after first binding the two soldiers and Ferret with so many loops of rope only their faces and feet were visible.

“Don’t let this get around,” Hickok said quietly, “but for the first time in my entire life, the very first time, I am so scared I could pee my pants!”

“You’d better not,” Blade advised. “Sherry made those for you herself, and I don’t think she’d like it too much if you put a stain in them.”

“Aren’t you just a mite edgy?” Hickok asked.

“What’s to be edgy about?”

“You’re binding, pard! You’re getting married! You’re giving up bachelorhood for an anchor and chain!”

Blade chuckled. “Is that how you view it?”

Hickok pondered a moment. “No, I reckon not. I guess I’ve been listening to Spartacus too much.”

“He’s a fine one to talk,” Blade snorted. “I’ll bet you anything he’s the next one to tie the knot.”

“I almost wish he was doing it now instead of me,” Hickok mumbled.

“Sherry’s a fine woman,” Blade stated. “You’re a lucky man.”

“But what if I ruin her life?” Hickok inquired in a plaintive tone.

“What are you babbling about?”

“What if I ruin her life?” Hickok gravely repeated. “I’m a Warrior, plain and simple. I can’t promise her a fancy spread or ritzy clothes, because I know I couldn’t deliver…”

“So who in the Family has a fancy spead or ritzy clothes?” Blade interrupted.

“I mean,” Hickok went on, ignoring Blade’s comment, “we could starve to death, couldn’t we? If we’re ever out in the world, on our own, what happens if I can’t deliver? What happens if I can’t do my job as a man, as the provider for my family?”

“Are you planning to leave the Home soon?” Blade interjected.

“Well, no,” Hickok admitted.

“Then you won’t need to worry about providing, will you? The Tillers take care of our needs here, as far as food is concerned. All you have to do is your job as a Warrior. The rest will take care of itself.”

“But what if I get shot?” Hickok queried, his face a study in self-torment. “What if we have kids and I get killed? Who’s going to look after Sherry and the kids? Who’s going to stare into their cute little faces and tell them their papa was blown away in the line of duty and won’t be home that night to tuck them in or read them a bedtime story?”

“More to the point,” Blade stated, “who’s going to look into their cute little faces and inform them their dad was a dimwit?”

“I’m serious about this,” Hickok snapped.

Blade gazed skyward and shook his head. He placed his right arm around Hickok’s shoulders. “Nathan, listen to me. You’re working yourself up over nothing. Sherry knows you’re a Warrior and I doubt she’d want you to change. We’ve had Warriors in the Family for a century, and many of them have married and reared children. Sherry knows the best she can expect is a cabin in the Home and the security it provides. At least, in here, she’ll have a safe haven, somewhere she can raise her offspring with confidence.”

“But…” Hickok started to speak.

“Let me finish,” Blade cut him off. “As far as you’re being killed is concerned, every parent faces that prospect. You should talk to Yama sometime. He has an interesting philosophy about dying. He says death is inevitable. Everyone and everything dies. So why in the world do so many people get upset about dying? Death is merely the method for getting from where we are right now, from this planet, to where we’re going from here.

Plato and Joshua say we pass on from here to the mansions on high. So…”

“But…” Hickok tried to interrupt.

“Will you let me finish?” Blade demanded. “So it’s useless for you to become so upset over death. Besides, Sherry is a Warrior now, and it could happen to her as easily as to you. Your children will understand, and they’ll have everyone in the Family here to look after them. I personally guarantee Jenny and I will treat your kids as our very own if something ever happens to Sherry and you. What more…”

“But…”

Blade, annoyed, removed his arm from Hickok’s shoulder. “Here I am, trying to have a heart-to-heart talk with you, and all you can do is interrupt. But! But! But! But what?”

Hickok’s face was decidedly pale. “I appreciate what you’re saying, pard,” he said, “but the whole matter is moot.”

“Why’s that?”

“Because binding time is here.” Hickok pointed.

Blade turned and saw several of the Family beckoning for them to approach.

“They’ve been wavin’ at us ever since you started yapping,” Hickok mentioned.

“Why didn’t you tell me?”

“I tried,” Hickok replied. “But you were on a roll.”

They walked toward the Family, which was divided into two groups of comparable size, standing with their backs towards the two Warriors. The entire Family was facing due south, their eyes on the man presiding over this most meaningful of ceremonies, the Family member viewed as the most intensely spiritual man ever to arise in Family history.

“I hope old Josh doesn’t flub his lines,” Hickok whispered as they neared the clustered Family.

“Joshua is the same age you are,” Blade absently remarked, his mind on the impending ceremony.

As was Family tradition, the two Warriors stood at the rear of the narrow aisle between the two waiting groups. Standing alone in front of the Family, at the end of the cleared pathway, was Joshua, his long brown hair blowing in the cool breeze, his beard and moustache meticulously groomed, his large Latin cross visible in the center of his chest, suspended from a golden chain draped around his neck. He wore a faded but clean black suit and a white shirt with a ruffled front.

“Josh looks like a sissy,” Hickok quibbled.

Blade turned toward B Block, wondering what was keeping the women.

That’s when he saw them, already half the distance to the gathered Family.

“Maybe I should give Sherry more time to think about this,” Hickok was thinking to himself. “After all, you don’t want to rush into anything as important as marriage. I’ll bet…”

Blade smacked Hickok on the left shoulder and nodded toward the women.

Hickok swiveled, his mouth dropping. “Dear Spirit! Aren’t they a sight!”

Blade was experiencing similar emotions. In all his days, he could recall nothing as beautiful as the vision of Jenny coming toward him, dressed in a replica of the typical wedding garment worn by women in the pre-war society. She’d taken a photograph from one of the books in the library and, with the aid of several of her friends, after sewing and cutting and experimenting with crude patterns for two days, produced a marvelous reproduction of a wedding dress.

Sherry had opted for a white pants suit, remarkable because white clothing was at a premium. One of the older women owned a swatch of white material preserved from the pre-war times, and she generously gave it as a gift, after bleaching it to remove the discoloration.

Smiling, the two women reached their intendeds.

“You’re beautiful!” Hickok whispered to Sherry.

Blade stared down the long path to Joshua, then at Hickok. “You can go first,” he graciously offered.

Hickok gazed along the rows of expectant faces, then grinned at Blade.

“Thanks, pard, but you can go first.”

“No, you go first.”

Hickok politely shook his head. “No, you go first. You’re bigger than me.”

“What’s that got to do with anything?”

Joshua was watching them in bewilderment, perplexed by the delay.

Jenny glanced at Sherry, rolled her eyes heavenward, and took Blade’s right hand, forcefully pulling him the first few feet down the aisle.

Hickok leaned toward Sherry. “Listen,” he said softly, “if you’d like to postpone this for a year or so, I’d under…”

He nearly lost his footing when she unceremoniously yanked him along the pathway.

Joshua, hoping his beard and moustache hid his grin, stood solemnly until the couples reached him. Blade and Jenny standing to his right, Hickok and Sherry to his left.

Plato and his wife, Nadine, were in the front row of the Family, Nadine with tears in her eyes.

Joshua raised his hands over his head.

“Brothers and sisters,” he began, “fellow children of our loving Creator, we are gathered here today for a very special ceremony, for the eternal binding of these two couples. As the Spirit is our witness, we pray for their happiness together as husband and wife.”

Joshua lowered his arms and stared at the four people in front of him.

“Binding,” he continued, “is a serious responsibility. A union of a man and a woman should be an equal partnership, a mutual sharing predicated on love and loyalty. The woman agrees to go through life with her man, to assist the man in dealing with the hardships of life, and to diligently shoulder the burden of bearing and rearing children.”

Joshua glanced at Hickok and Blade.

“The man must appreciate the sacrifice the woman makes in carrying, bearing, and usually assuming the far-greater share of responsibility in raising the children. The man must be willing to offer not only protection from the evils of this world, but also the loving companionship and consideration the woman deserves.”

Joshua’s voice rose in volume.

“The man and the woman have not only joined in partnership with one another, they have also joined in partnership with the Spirit as co-directors of their destiny and as procreators of a new life, new eternal souls, for the bringing of innocent infants into the world.”

He gazed at the women.

“Do you, Jenny and Sherry, take these men as your respective mates, to love and cherish throughout all eternity?”

“I do,” Jenny stated.

“I do,” Sherry concurred.

“And do you, Blade and Hickok, take these women as your respective mates, to love and honor throughout time without end?”

“I do,” Blade promptly replied.

“I…” Hickok began, and then coughed, his throat congested.

Sherry glared at her beloved.

“I do!” Hickok hastily exclaimed, so loudly they heard him in the infirmary.

Star, standing in the front row alongside Plato and Nadine, giggled.

“Remember your vows to one another,” Joshua resumed. “When the storm clouds gather overhead, in times of sickness or danger, ever bear in mind the supernal affection you share, the unbreakable bond of love, cemented by this ceremony.”

He paused.

“I now declare you to be husband and wife. You may kiss as a symbol of this union.”

Many Family members were clapping as Blade took Jenny in his arms.

Hickok hesitated.

“You’d better kiss me,” Sherry warned.

“In front of all these people?”

“Would you rather have a kiss or a fat lip?”

Hickok reluctantly complied, embracing Sherry and gingerly kissing her on the lips.

“Oh, good grief!” she declared, and grabbed him by his hair, planting a kiss on him, her tongue boring into his mouth, that he’d never forget.

A strident horn suddenly sounded from the west wall, and the gunman stiffened and pushed Sherry away.

“Hey! Something wrong with my kiss?” she demanded.

“Shhhh!” he shushed her.

The horn blasted twice more in quick succession.

Instantly, the Family members were in motion, running every which way.

“What’s going on?” Sherry asked, alarmed.

“The danger signal,” Hickok answered. He pecked her on the cheek.

“You get inside until I see what it is.”

“I will not,” she defied him. “I’m a Warrior now, and where you go, I go!”

Blade and Jenny were racing toward the west wall.

“All right,” Hickok agreed. “But stay close to me.” He jogged after Blade, noting the drawbridge was up, relieved because any attackers would experience supreme difficulty in gaining entrance to the Home otherwise.

Hickok reached the stairs. Sherry on his heels. Blade and Jenny were already at the top.

“I make it about forty horsemen,” Blade stated as Hickok reached his side.

“Any idea who they are?” Hickok asked.

The line of riders was poised at the edge of the forest, one hundred and fifty yards from the compound walls. The fields surrounding the Home were kept cleared of all vegetation as a security precaution.

“They’re not Watchers,” Blade deduced, “and they don’t look like scavengers. The Moles don’t own horses, and neither do the people in the Twin Cities. I don’t know who they are.”

Three of the riders detached themselves from the rest and rode slowly toward the wall.

“Is one of them a woman?” Sherry inquired, squinting to see better.

Rikki joined them, binoculars in his left hand, his katana in his right.

“Here,” he said, offering the binoculars to Blade. “You’d better take a look.”

Blade did, and grinned. “Well, I’ll be damned!”

“What is it?” Hickok pressed him.

“See for yourself.”

Hickok took one look and spun, bellowing at several men standing near the massive mechanism utilized for lowering and raising the drawbridge.

“What are you yokels waiting for? Lower the blasted drawbridge!”

The men exchanged puzzled looks as they obeyed the order.

Hickok tossed the binoculars to Blade and bolted down the stairs. He impatiently waited for the drawbridge to fully lower, then casually sauntered across it to the field.

“I don’t understand…” Sherry said to Blade.

“You will in a minute,” he predicted.

The three riders reined in when they reached the gunman.

Hickok, all smiles, strolled over to one of the horsemen, his thumbs hooked in his gunbelt. “Howdy there, pard. Long time no see.”

“Did you miss me?” Geronimo asked.

Hickok feigned a yawn. “Naw. I never even noticed you were still gone until this morning.”

“Oh.” Geronimo sounded disappointed. “Anything happen while I was away?”

“Nope. Nothing much. How about you? Run into any trouble out there in the big, bad world?”

“A very boring trip,” Geronimo answered. “Nothing much happened.”

The lovely woman on the horse next to Geronimo glanced at him, her black hair waving in the wind. “Oh? Is that right?” She wore black pants and a yellow blouse, both in reasonably good shape.

Geronimo cleared his throat. “One event of some significance did occur,” he sheepishly admitted.

“What’s that, pard?”

“I got married.”

Hickok’s astonishment showed. “You did what?”

“Her parents wouldn’t allow her to come here if we weren’t married,” Geronimo explained. “Otherwise, I’d have invited you to the wedding.”

“Don’t feel bad,” Hickok said.

“Why not?”

“Because,” Hickok smiled, “Blade and I got hitched too.”

“What? When?”

“You’re interrupting the ceremony right now,” Hickok informed him.

“We pushed it as fast as we could,” commented the third rider, a tall man with blue eyes and light brown hair, wearing buckskins and mounted on a fine Palomino.

“Hickok,” Geronimo introduced them, “this is Kilrane. the leader of the Cavalry.”

“The what?”

“I’ll explain after we’re inside,” Geronimo said.

“I’m right pleased to make your acquaintance,” Kilrane declared, extending his right hand.

Hickok reached up and shook.

“I’ve heard a lot about you,” Kilrane mentioned.

“So have I,” Cynthia stated, offering her own hand.

“You must be the lucky lady,” Hickok commented as he turned and shook with her.

“The name is Cynthia,” she revealed.

Hickok faced Geronimo and raised his right hand. “Let me be the first in the Family to offer congratulations.”

“Thank you,” Geronimo said, leaning down, completely unprepared for what transpired next.

Hickok gripped Geronimo’s wrist and hauled him from the horse.

Before Geronimo could resist, Hickok had him by the front of his shirt and was shaking the tar out of him.

“Don’t you ever do this to me again!” Hickok shouted. “Do you have any idea how worried I was? I was all set to come after you, you lousy Injun!

Ruin my honeymoon and everything! And all because you can’t find your way back here without help!”

Geronimo was beaming in unrestrained delight.

“So,” Hickok went on, his voice lowering several octaves, “why don’t you come in and meet the missus?”

“It is Sherry, I assume,” Geronimo remarked.

“Well, I wouldn’t be marrying Yama, now would I?”

They started to stroll across the drawbridge.

“Hey!” Cynthia shouted. “What about me?”

“You and the others are free to enter in peace,” said a deep voice above them.

Cynthia and Kilrane looked up. A huge man with bulging muscles was perched on the edge of the rampart, standing behind the strands of barbed wire placed all along the top of the wall.

“You sure it’s all right?” Kilrane asked, gazing at the Bowies on the man’s hips.

“You have my word,” the man assured them. “You and your men will not be harmed. The Family welcomes you in peace and friendship. Any friends of Geronimo’s are friends of ours.”

“You can’t have too many friends in this world,” Kilrane said.

Blade glanced behind him, watching Hickok and Geronimo enter the compound, exchanging lively banter. “Ain’t it the truth?” he stated quietly.

He faced Kilrane and Cynthia, smiling, speaking louder for their benefit.

“Ain’t it the truth!”