Thief River Falls Run

Chapter Eleven

“Josh, wake up!” Bertha smacked his left arm. “You’ve been sleepin’ long enough.”

Joshua raised his head and opened his eyes. “I’m not sleeping,” he informed her.

“Then what’ve you been doing all this time?”

“Praying.”

“Say what?”

“Praying. Don’t you know what praying is?”

Bertha shook her head.

“What kind of religion do you practice in the Twin Cities?” Joshua inquired.

“Religion? Oh, you mean the God stick.”

“The God stick?”

“Yeah.” Bertha nervously scanned the trees for the hundredth time since Blade and Geronimo had gone after Hickok. “The Horns do something called the God stick. Never did understand it myself, but then I was born a Porn and I would of died a Porn if I hadn’t met Zahner and been convinced to switch to the Nomads.”

Joshua, bewildered, pressed her for additional information. “Can you tell me anything about the God stick?”

“Not much. It’s one of the big differences between the Horns and the Porns. Has something to do with magic, I think.”

“Magic?”

“Yeah. Some mumbo-jumbo about askin’ this God for things you want.

Sounds crazy, right?”

Joshua was trying to understand. “The Porns don’t believe in God?”

Bertha studied him to be sure the question was in earnest. “Are you nuts? Of course they don’t. How can you believe in somethin’ you can’t see or touch or taste? That’s what this God bozo is, some kind of invisible thing. Imagine that!” She laughed.

“How do the Nomads feel about God?”

“The Nomads is made up of former Porns and Horns for the most part. Some of ’em believe in the God nonsense, the ones who used to be Horns. The Porns don’t, of course.”

“Of course.”

Bertha fidgeted in her seat. They had climbed into the front seats after Blade departed. She glanced at Joshua. “What are you thinkin’ about?” she asked him.

“What you just told me,” he replied. “I find it incredible that people could exist and not accept the reality of a Supreme Creator.”

“What?”

“I believe in God.”

“You do?” Bertha showed her surprise.

“Yes, I do. As a matter of fact, I was talking to God before you hit me on the arm.”

Bertha appeared startled. She quickly looked around the interior of the SEAL. “You was talkin’ to God?”

“Yes.”

“God’s in here with us, right this minute?” She bent and peered under her bucket seat.

“Of course.”

Bertha sat up, grinning. “You’re jive-talkin’ me, right?”

“I beg your pardon.”

“You’re puttin’ me on, Josh? Aren’t you?”

“No. I’m completely serious.”

“Uh-huh,” Bertha said slowly. “I can’t see no God in this thing. Where is it?”

“Right here.” Joshua reached up with his right hand and touched his forehead.

“What?” Bertha nearly screeched. “You tryin’ to tell old Bertha that God is you?”

“No,” Joshua patiently answered. “I’m simply saying that God is inside of me.”

“Don’t it get kind of crowded in there?” Bertha cackled.

“You don’t believe me?” Joshua asked.

“Do I look like an idiot?”

Joshua smiled. “I’ll try to explain.”

“Please do. I’ve been tryin’ to understand this God business for a long time.”

“God is spirit,” Joshua began, and was promptly interrupted.

“What’s spirit?” Bertha demanded. She placed her elbows on her knees and rested her chin in her hands.

“Spirit is a level of reality existing on a plane other than the material.”

Bertha made a face. “Can’t you use a language we both can talk in? I don’t understand this at all.”

Joshua sighed. He touched his leg. “This body is called material. It’s part of what’s called physical reality…”

“Cute body too,” Bertha interjected. “Not as pretty as White Meat, but cute. You got skinny legs, though.”

“How am I supposed to tell you about God,” Joshua wanted to know, “if you won’t let me finish a sentence?”

“I’m all ears.”

“Okay.”

“I won’t break in again.”

“Okay. Now…”

“I promise.”

Joshua shook his head, grinning, and rolled his eyes skyward.

“You feelin’ sick?” Bertha asked.

“No. Now can we finish our talk about God?”

“You ain’t said nothing yet,” Bertha pointed out.

“I’m trying.”

“Well, don’t let me stop you.”

Joshua mentally counted to ten.

“Any time,” Bertha said eagerly.

“As I was saying,” Joshua continued, “our bodies are called material.

We live in a physical, material world. Everything we see and touch and smell is part of this material world.”

“I got that,” Bertha said proudly.

“There is also another level of reality we can’t see or touch or smell. It’s called the spiritual level, or spiritual world.”

“And where’s it at?”

“Right here. All around us. But we can’t see it.”

“Then how do we know it’s there?”

“By feeling it in our lives.”

“I just don’t get it,” Bertha snapped, annoyed at her own lack of comprehension. “How can we feel it if we can’t even see it?”

“We feel it here.” Joshua touched his forehead again. “When we talk to God, who is spirit, we feel it inside our heads. We can actually feel the presence of God, and the more we talk to God, the more we feel the presence of God.”

“Sometimes,” Bertha said hesitantly, “when I’m all by my lonesome, thinkin’, I do feel something in my head. Could it be God?”

“You need to be talking directly to God to feel God.”

“How do I talk to God?”

“The same way you talk to me.”

“Come again?”

“You talk to God exactly the same way you talk to me,” Joshua explained. “Just remember God is inside your head. The Spirit dwells in every man and woman, every child, on this entire planet. You can talk to the Spirit, but first you must open the door to your mind.”

Bertha frowned. “I’m tryin’, Josh, but I can’t say as I understand much of this. Z tried tellin’ me about God a couple of times, but it was no good then too.”

“Zahner believes in God?” Joshua asked her.

“Of course. Z used to be a Horn before he started the Nomads.”

“Of course.”

Bertha stretched. “All this talkin’ is hurtin’ my head. I think I’ll take a walk and clear the cobwebs.”

“Wouldn’t it be safer to remain in the SEAL?” Joshua anxiously inquired.

“Safer maybe,” Bertha admitted. “But I need some fresh air. Your friends have been gone a long time.” She opened her door.

Joshua reached into the back of the SEAL and picked up the Smith and Wesson Pump shotgun. “Here. If you insist on going outside, the least you can do it take adequate protection.”

Bertha happily took the gun. “Ain’t this a beaut!” she exclaimed, admiring the firearm. “I wish I’d of had one of these back in the Twins! I wouldn’t have worried about nothing.”

Joshua stayed in the SEAL, nervously scanning the trees and the nearest buildings. He didn’t like the idea of her leaving the safety of the transport. There was no telling what might be out there. More Watchers, Mutates. Or more like the thing that attacked Blade near the park.

The sun was high in the sky, white clouds floating lazily overhead. Four robins were half a block away, searching for worms and insects in a patch of grass.

It looked harmless enough.

Bertha had moved nearer the trees. She was holding the shotgun loosely in her hands, gazing at the wall of vegetation.

Joshua closed his eyes and concentrated, mentally probing, seeking any fluctuations, any disruptive patterns in their immediate area, utilizing his empathic ability as Hazel had taught him to do, trying to perceive the emanation of hostile emotions.

“Hey, Josh!” Bertha called, turning her back to the trees. “It’s beautiful out here! Why don’t you join me?”

Joshua felt… something… touch his mind,, something primitive, something elemental, something savage.

“Come on, Josh!” Bertha urged him. “Don’t worry! I’ll guard you, keep you safe from the boogeyman!” She laughed, her back still to the trees.

Joshua opened his eyes, terrified, reaching for the doorknob, knowing he had to warn her, to get Bertha back to the SEAL. Even as he opened the door, he saw the leafy green foliage behind Bertha part, revealing a hideous, leering dark face with a countenance straight from his worst possible nightmare.

“Come on!” Bertha waved to him.

Joshua’s feet touched the ground, his eyes widening as the creature stepped in view. Dear Father! No! It was a female version of the brute that had assaulted Blade, start naked except for a skimpy piece of buckskin around the waist, covering her private parts. It had the same big nose, and the same huge mouth, open now, revealing two rows of sharp, jagged teeth. The heavy body was blackish, rough, displaying dozens and dozens of scars. Two immense, pendulous breasts swayed as the creature walked toward Bertha!

“What’s the matter, Josh?” Bertha asked, noting his expression.

Joshua started to bring his hand up, to point, at a loss for words.

Bertha crouched, spinning, the Smith and Wesson up and ready. Too late.

The thing was already directly behind Bertha, calmly standing there, apparently studying her.

“Look out!” Joshua finally screamed.

The brute lashed out, its right arm knocking the shotgun to the ground.

Before Bertha could recover, the creature struck with its left arm, catching Bertha on the side of the head.

“Bertha!” Joshua shouted, taking a few steps in her direction. What should he do? Try to distract the thing, make it come after him?

Bertha was lying on the ground, groaning. The shotgun was out of her reach.

The female brute stood over Bertha, watching her, saliva dripping out of the corners of the cavernous mouth.

Joshua waved his arms, frantically striving to distract the thing. “Here! Over here! Leave her alone!” Maybe, if he could draw the creature away from Bertha, Bertha might be able to get the shotgun and shoot the brute.

“Try me! Leave her alone!” Joshua yelled.

The creature ignored him, kneeling, reaching down to touch Bertha’s hair.

“Leave her alone!”

The brute looked up at Joshua, annoyed by the noise.

“Over here, you monstrosity!”

The thing decided Joshua wasn’t much of a threat and returned its attention to Bertha.

Bertha’s eyes flickered open. “What the hell…”

The brute growled, the long fangs exposed.

Bertha tried to rise.

The creature slammed her to the ground with its left hand, then placed that hand on Bertha’s chest, pressing down, preventing Bertha from rising.

“Let me up!” Bertha screamed, furious. “Let me up, you ugly bitch!”

The brute hissed and cuffed Bertha with its right hand.

“Joshua!” Bertha shrieked. “Joshua? Help me!”

Joshua wavered, his mind racing. What should he do? If he went any closer, the thing would get him too. He had to stop the creature! But how?

“Joshua!” Bertha screeched, her voice breaking. “Where the hell are you?”

The brute, growling, picked up Bertha’s left arm with its right hand and raised the arm to its face.

Dear Father! What is the thing doing?

The creature was sniffing, running Bertha’s arm under its bent nose.

No! No! It couldn’t be! Joshua suddenly perceived what was coming.

The thing opened his mouth, wide, and bit down on Bertha’s arm.

Bertha screamed, twisting and turning, trying to break free.

The brute held the left arm in its mouth, blood dripping over its chin, the jaws slowly working.

Dear Father! It was eating Bertha!

“Joshua!” Bertha was hysterical now. “Save me!”

What do I do? Kill the thing? Could he do it? The brute appeared to be slightly human. How could he morally condone killing the creature if there was the slightest possibility that it was endowed with a minimal spiritual capacity?

The thing was licking Bertha’s arm, savoring the tangy taste of blood and flesh.

“Joshua!”

Joshua, wild with anxiety, frenziedly searched for anything nearby he could use as a weapon. A rock. A limb. Anything.

Nothing.

“Joshua!” Bertha renewed her feeble efforts to break loose.

Joshua ran toward them, then stopped. The shotgun was too close to the brute. If he tried to grab it, the thing would nail him.

Dear Father!

“Joshua! Joshua, please!”

Were there any guns left in the SEAL? Joshua dashed to the transport and jumped in. The Warriors had taken their firearms with them, and the rest of the confiscated weapons were hidden at the edge of town.

Bertha was sobbing and thrashing as the brute gnawed on her arm.

Joshua couldn’t stand to look! He glanced down, at the floor behind the driver’s bucket seat.

A gun!

The Ruger Redhawk he had dropped on the floor, the gun they’d taken from the motorcycle rider who’d tried to kill them!

“Joshua!” Bertha wailed pitiably.

Joshua leaned down and scooped up the Redhawk, flinging his body from the SEAL, running toward the brute and Bertha. Was the gun loaded? There wasn’t time to check!

The thing saw him coming and released Bertha, rising.

Joshua stopped, amazed at how tall the creature was.

“Shoot it!” Bertha had twisted onto her side, and was holding her left arm pressed close to her body.

Joshua raised the .44 Magnum and aimed at the thing’s face.

The creature hissed, showing a mouth filled with red froth and chunks of dark flesh.

“Shoot it!”

The brute stepped over Bertha, ignoring her, and came toward Joshua.

Joshua could feel his blood pounding in his temples, and he trembled as his finger tightened on the trigger. “Please!” he pleaded. “Don’t make me shoot you!”

Bertha struggled to her knees. “Don’t talk to the damn thing! Shoot it!”

The creature was only feet away, coming on slowly, confidently, as if sensing Joshua’s inner turmoil.

Joshua felt sweat line the palms of his hands as he tried to will his finger to fire the Magnum. “Don’t come any closer,” he warned the thing.

“Shoot it!” Bertha bent over, her head touching the grass, dreading what was coming.

“Please!” Joshua begged one last time.

The brute suddenly roared and lunged for Joshua.

The .44 Magnum fired, the bullet striking the creature in the forehead, bringing it up short, a stunned expression on its horrible face.

“I’m sorry,” Joshua said softly.

The Redhawk cracked again, and again.

The thing was slammed backward by the impact, howling as it dropped to the ground, the muscular limbs still twitching.

“I’m so sorry.”

Joshua walked up to the brute, placed the barrel against its head, and pulled the trigger.

“May the Spirit forgive me.”

Joshua, abruptly weak, sat down on the grass, the Redhawk falling beside him. He couldn’t seem to focus his thoughts. What had he just done? Killed another creature! “Thou shalt not kill.” Violated one of the Ten Commandments! Rejected every moral and spiritual imperative! He sagged, feeling a need for sleep.

“Don’t faint on me, sucker!”

A firm hand gripped Joshua’s shoulder and shook him.

“There might be more of them things around. We got to get back to the SEAL!”

Joshua tried to touch Bertha, but his arms wouldn’t rise.

“It’s okay,” she was telling him. “The thing is dead. You did real good.”

Joshua nodded. “I did real good,” he repeated, mumbling.

“What’s the matter with you, Josh?” Bertha asked. “It was it or me. I’m glad you picked me! I was beginning to wonder if you’d ever fire that gun!”

“I killed it,” Joshua said numbly.

Bertha stared at the gaping holes in the creature’s head. “You sure as hell did!”

“I killed it!”

“Hey? What’s wrong? Is this the first time you’ve ever killed somethin’?”

Joshua nodded.

“Well, don’t blame yourself. God had a lot to do with it.”

“God?” Joshua gaped at Bertha, uncomprehending.

“Sure enough. When that thing was comin’ at you, I thought you weren’t ever going to shoot. So I did like you told me. I talked to God,” she said proudly.

“You talked to God?”

“Yep. I told God I didn’t want us ending up as dead meat, and I asked if God would help you fire the gun.”

“You did what?” Joshua’s head was clearing and he stood.

“You bet. I asked God to make your finger pull the trigger. I talked to God inside my head, just, like you said I should.”

“You asked God to help me kill?”

“Sure did.” Bertha was beaming, despite her pain. “And damn if it didn’t work! Maybe there is something to this God business after all!”

Joshua began laughing, an emotional release to the recent events, his mirth uncontrollable.

“What’s so funny?” Bertha inquired, trying to understand.

“Nothing,” Joshua managed to reply, before the laughter doubled him over.

“I’m sure glad you can laugh while I suffer,” Bertha said harshly.

Joshua immediately straightened, the thought of her injury sobering him.

“That’s better.”

“How bad is it?” he asked, taking her left arm and examining the bite marks.

“I’ve been hurt worse,” she answered. “You know, Josh, White Meat sure was right about you.”

“How do you mean?”

“No offense meant,” she said, inadvertently flinching when he accidentally touched a tender spot near her wound, “but you are one strange dude!”

“Enjoy it while it lasts.”

“What do you mean?”

“I mean,” Joshua said, sighing, gazing at the dead brute, “at the rate we’re going, by the time this trip is done, I probably won’t have much strangeness left in me.”

“You’ll be normal like the rest of us?” Bertha asked.

“You call yourselves normal?”