Green Bay Run

Chapter Three

“How are you feeling?” Plato inquired.

“Much better, thank you,” Andrew Wolski replied. He lay on the cot with three plump white pillows propped under his shoulders. “That Healer did a great job of bandaging me up. And after the venison soup I ate, I feel terrific.”

“Then you’re ready to talk?”

“I was ready when I got here, but I wasn’t in the best of shape,” Andrew said. To his left stood the Family Leader. On his right, side by side, were the giant and the man in blue.

“You mentioned that you came looking for us,” Blade stated. “Why?”

Andrew frowned and closed his eyes for a moment. When he opened them and gazed at the head Warrior, they were filled with a profound inner sadness. “It’s my wife and daughter. I need your help or they’ll die.”

Blade and Plato exchanged glances.

“Start at the beginning,” the giant directed. “Tell us everything.”

“Okay. You’ll need some background first,” Andrew said, and launched into his tale. “I’ve been a farmer all of my life. I was raised on a farm west of Green Bay, and I took over the farm after my parents were killed in a freak accident. They were coming back from a neighbor’s in a buggy and something must have spooked their team. When they didn’t return on time, a search got underway.” He paused. “We found the buggy smashed to bits against a tree. Their bodies were in the wreckage.”

“Do you have any brothers or sisters?” Plato tactfully asked, hoping to take Wolski’s mind off the tragic mishap.

“One of each,” Andrew responded. “My sister married a guy who lives about twenty miles from our place. He’s a farmer too. My younger brother tired of the farming life and took off. I don’t know if he ever found what he was looking for because I never heard from him again.”

“How long ago did he leave?” Plato queried.

“Sixteen years ago. I expect he’s dead by now.”

“How does all of this relate to your wife and daughter?” Blade interjected.

Andrew looked up. “I’m getting to that. Fourteen years ago I met the most beautiful woman who ever lived, Sandra. And I don’t mean the kind of beauty that’s only skin deep either. She’s beautiful inside, where it really counts.”

“Any man who finds the ideal love of his life is indeed fortunate,” Plato commented.

“Sandra and I were inseparable. I live just to make her happy,” Andrew said. “Our daughter, Nadine, was born nine months after our wedding.

She’s our only child. Not that we haven’t tried to have more.”

“And Sandra and Nadine are in danger?” Blade prompted.

Andrew nodded. “The Mad Scientist has them.”

The giant’s eyebrows arched. “The who?”

“The Mad Scientist is the name we’ve given to the bastard who showed up in Green Bay about six months ago,” Andrew disclosed. “You see, until the madman arrived, we didn’t have any major problems. Oh, we had our share of scavengers and mutations and whatnot. But not the sheer terror we have now. We grew our crops and traded for whatever we needed with the Indians and the townspeople.”

“Just a second,” Plato interrupted. “There are a few facts that require clarification. Who controls Green Bay?”

“The Mad Scientist does now, but before he came no one did. There were people living there, but they weren’t very organized. They lived hand to mouth by scrounging items they found in all the abandoned buildings.

Green Bay wasn’t hit during the war, but most of the folks left. My grandfather told me they were forced to leave by the government and taken somewhere else. The city is rundown. Most of the stores and houses are falling apart. Rats and cockroaches are everywhere,” Andrew said distastefully. “I don’t see how anyone could live there.”

“Where do the Indians live?” Plato probed.

“I wish I had a map,” Andrew stated.

“We can get one,” Blade offered.

“I won’t need it. Just follow me on this. The city of Green Bay is located at the south end of Green Bay. Due west of the city—bordering it, in fact—is the Oneida Indian Reservation, which is only about ten miles wide. Just west of the Reservation, near a deserted town called Seymour, is where I have my farm.”

“I take it the Oneida Indians stayed on the reservations after the war?”

Plato inquired.

“Most did. They don’t like to refer to it as a reservation, though. To them, it’s just their land. They’re very peaceful and have never caused any trouble for the farmers and ranchers.”

“Go on with your story,” Plato said.

“Okay. About six months ago a rumor started circulating that a strange man had shown up in Green Bay with an escort of forty soldiers and taken over the old University of Wisconsin campus.”

“Soldiers?” Blade repeated.

“Yeah.” Andrew nodded. “Technics.”

For the first time since the conversation commenced, Yama stirred. He straightened and stepped closer to the cot. “How do you know these soldiers are Technics?”

“The farmers in my area deal with the Technics on a regular basis.

Those sons of bitches are always in the market for food to feed the people they have crammed in Technic City. We know Technic soldiers when we see them,” Andrew assured him. “Anyway, the guy who took over the college had a barbed-wire fence erected and signs posted to keep everyone out. He warned the people living in the city to stay away under penalty of death.”

“What is this guy’s name?” Blade queried.

“No one knows. He’s real secretive. All we do know is that he’s involved in some kind of scientific research. That’s why everybody started calling him the Mad Scientist.”

“How do you know he’s engaged in research?” Plato questioned.

“Because he let it slip. When he first arrived, some of the city folk went to pay him a visit. He joked that if they didn’t mind their own business, they’d be sorry. Told them the research he was doing might be contagious, then laughed.”

“You’re certain about this?” Plato asked, pressing him.

“Positive. I talked to a couple who were there.”

Yama leaned forward. “And you’re sure this scientist is tied in with the Technics?”

Andrew scowled. “How many times do I have to tell you? Let me spell it out. Green Bay drains into Lake Michigan, in case you didn’t know, and on the south end of Lake Michigan, only two hundred miles away, is Technic city. Or Chicago, as they used to call it. The Technics have contacted farmers all along the lake, offering to trade for crops. I’ve dealt with them dozens of times.”

Oddly, Yama smiled and seemed to relax. “Excellent,” he remarked cryptically.

“What puzzles me is why the Technics would establish a research station in Green Bay,” Plato said. “What does the University of Wisconsin have to offer that the Technics don’t already have in Technic City? They adulate technology and science. Their own research facilities must be some of the best on the planet.”

“I wish I could answer that,” Andrew said. “But no one has a clue as to what those slime are up to.”

“If you think they’re slime, why did you deal with them?” Blade asked.

Andrew shrugged. “I couldn’t afford to be choosy. The Technics could supply clothes, tools, kerosene, matches, and a whole lot of other stuff that was hard to come by otherwise.”

“You still haven’t told us how your wife and daughter are in danger,” Blade noted.

The farmer’s shoulders sagged. “They’ve disappeared.”

“Explain,” Blade said.

“About a month after the Technic scientist arrived, people began to vanish. At first, no one wanted to believe the reports. When some of the folks living in the city disappeared, and the stories started circulating, everyone assumed the missing persons had left because they didn’t want to be anywhere near the creepy scientist. Then more and more people vanished into thin air. City folks. Indians. And even some of my neighbors.”

“Didn’t anyone do anything?” Blade asked.

“What could we do? We had three choices. We could march up to the barbed-wire fence and demand to know what was going on, in which case the Technics would have shot us. We could pack our belongings and get the hell out of there. Or we could stay and hope for the best,” Andrew said.

“Most of my neighbors were in the same boat I was in. We had too much invested in our property to run off.”

“How many persons have disappeared, all told?” Blade inquired.

“As near as I could guess, and bear in mind this was three weeks ago, over thirty people have vanished without a trace.”

“What happened to your wife and daughter?”

Andrew slumped into the pillows, his sorrow self-evident. “Three weeks ago, about an hour before sunset, a neighbor’s son rode over to our place and let me know that his dad had busted a leg. My neighbor, Ed, had fallen off a ladder while cleaning a gutter on his house. He needed someone to help set the broken bones, so I rode over with the son.” He stopped and took a deep breath. “Two hours later, when I got home, no one was there. Sandra and Nadine weren’t anywhere to be found.

Everything in our house was in perfect order. None of the furniture was disturbed, and there was no sign of a struggle. Supper was simmering on the stove. I scoured our house from the attic to the basement, but my wife and daughter had disappeared.”

Blade crossed his arms on his chest, the corners of his mouth curling downward. He could sympathize with the farmer. If anything ever happened to his beloved Jenny and little Gabe, he’d be devastated.

“I went crazy,” Andrew went on. “I called my neighbors together and we searched every square inch of my farm. No one found a clue. But I knew it had to have been the Technics who were responsible. I wanted to go to the University and demand to see the man in charge, but my friends talked me out of the idea. They told me that I’d be committing suicide, that it wouldn’t help Sandra and Nadine one bit.” He fell silent, his eyes moistening.

“Take your time,” Plato said. “We can wait.”

Andrew cleared his throat. “There’s not too much left to tell. I was frantic. I tried to organize my friends and the Indians to go after my wife and daughter, but they wouldn’t agree. They were scared. I can’t say as I blame them.”

“When did you decide to come here?” Blade queried. “Four days after Sandra and Nadine vanished, I saddled up my mare, packed all the supplies I figured I’d need, and lit out. All went well until seven days ago. A band of scavengers ambushed me. My mare was killed and I barely got away with my life. I decided to keep going, no matter what. And here I am,” Andrew concluded.

“Back up a bit,” Blade said. “Why did you decide to come to the Home? Why us?”

“Because I’d heard stories about how the Family had tangled with with the damn Technics and won. A Warrior reportedly killed the Technic Minister and his First Secretary. Technic City was in turmoil for weeks. I first heard about it from a drunk at a tavern.”

“Where did he hear the story?”

“From some Technic soldiers who had stopped there to wet their whistles,” Andrew replied. “Naturally, when my wife and daughter were taken, when I desperately needed aid, I thought of the Family. You’re the only ones I know of who have ever beaten the Technics. Everyone else is too afraid to take the bastards on.”

“What do you want us to do?” Blade asked.

“Let your Warriors come to Green Bay with me. Help me find Sandra and Nadine.”

Blade lowered his arms. “Your wife and daughter have been missing for three weeks. As difficult as it might be to accept, they could be dead by now.”

“They could still be alive,” Andrew said, his voice strained. “I believe they are. Call it wishful thinking if you want, but deep down inside I know Sandra and Nadine haven’t been killed. Yet.”

“You ask a lot of us,” Blade stated softly.

“I don’t have anyone else I can turn to,” Andrew responded plaintively.

“You’re my last hope.”

“I say we go,” Yama unexpectedly declared.

Blade glanced at his fellow Warrior. “The decision is mine to make, not yours.”

“I know,” Yama said. “I mean no disrespect. And if you decide not to assist him, then I’d like to request a leave of absence so I can return to Green Bay with him.”

“You’d do that for me?” Andrew blurted.

Yama looked at the farmer. “For both of us.”

“I don’t understand,” Andrew said, puzzled by the intensity of Yama’s expression.

“First things first,” Plato interjected authoritatively. “Blade and I must discuss your appeal.”

“Whatever you want,” the farmer stated.

Plato headed for the doorway. “Blade, would you join me outside?”

“In a minute,” Blade responded. He faced Yama. “I know what you went through, but I’m not about to let you go traipsing off by yourself. A Warrior should never allow his actions to be dominated by his emotions.

You know as well as I do that going into combat with your head clouded by hatred will make you careless. And carelessness can make you dead.”

“I don’t hate them.”

“Oh? You could have fooled me. If it isn’t hatred, then it’s the next best thing.”

Andrew shifted on the cot. “What is this all about?”

“None of your business,” Yama snapped.

“Oh.”

“See what I mean?” Blade queried. “You wouldn’t last ten seconds.”

“Have I ever failed to perform my duties properly?” Yama asked earnestly.

“No. But there’s always a first time.”

“At least give me the benefit of the doubt.”

“I won’t stand by and let you kill yourself.”

“Fair enough. But if you decide to go, and I expect you will, I’d like to go along,” Yama said. “You know how much this means to me. If the situation were reversed, if it had happened to you, you’d be the first one over the drawbridge.”

Blade went to reply, then changed his mind. Yama had a valid point.

“I’ll think about it,” he offered, and strode from the infirmary.

Plato stood 20 feet off, his countenance troubled, absently tugging at his beard. He looked up as the giant approached, and sighed. “You have to go. You know that, don’t you?”

“I know,” Blade stated stiffly.

“If the Technics are hatching a new plot, we must discover their plan.

The future safety of the Family is at stake.”

“I know.”

The Family Leader gestured at C Block. “And although the very notion runs counter to my better judgment, I believe you owe it to Yama to take him along.”

“I know,” Blade said yet again, then added harshly, “Damn!”

“How many other Warriors will you take with you?”

“Just one.”

“Are you certain three Warriors will be enough?”

“Every Warrior I take reduces our defensive capability that much more.

Usually only three Warriors go on a run, and I see no need to change the procedure this time around,” Blade said.

“Who will you take then? Hickok?”

“No. Hickok will be in charge of the Warriors while I’m gone. I have someone else in mind, someone who can help keep Yama in line,” Blade answered.

Plato’s brow knit, and he pondered for several seconds. He gazed to the west, in the direction of the dozens of log cabins aligned from north to south in the center of the compound, and nodded. “Oh. An appropriate choice.”

“Who else?”