But who could blame him for being aloof?
Hickok wasn’t proud of his actions, but he’d had little choice. First, Bertha liked him far more than he liked her. Not that he didn’t care for her, because he did, but more as a close friend than a lover. Secondly, he had been on the rebound, having lost a woman he did deeply love during a battle in Fox, Minnesota. He simply hadn’t been ready for another heavy romance, not then anyway. And finally, he had learned that Bear, the man he had installed as Porn leader, was in love with Bertha and wanted her to become his mate.
So who could blame him for walking out on Bertha?
Who could blame him for finding someone else, a woman he did truly love?
Who could blame him for marrying this woman?
Bertha. That was who.
Who was he kidding? Bertha wasn’t the type to take news like this in stride.
So how should he handle it? He wasn’t all that experienced with women, and the prospect of hurting her distressed him. Blowing away an enemy was one thing; causing profound grief to a friend was another.
Hickok sighed.
There had to be a painless way of…
Blade slammed on the brakes so hard the entire transport lurched violently.
Hickok placed his hands on the dashboard to brace himself. “What the blazes are you doing?” he demanded.
“Look,” Blade replied, nodding.
Hickok did.
The roadway ahead was covered with bodies, dozens of them.
“Dear Father!” Joshua exclaimed. “What could have happened?”
“We’re going to take a look,” Blade said, turning off the ignition.
“Joshua, remain in the SEAL with the doors locked.”
“But…” Joshua started to object.
“Do as I say!” Blade ordered. He glanced at Hickok and Geronimo.
“Ready?”
“I was born ready,” Hickok responded.
Geronimo nodded.
The three warriors cautiously emerged from the vehicle and advanced along the highway. Tall trees and shrubbery lined both sides of the road.
“Good spot for an ambush,” Hickok observed.
“Looks like somebody already had that idea,” Geronimo stated.
Blade could hear the wind rustling the leaves of the nearby trees. He cradled the A-1 in his huge arms, ready to react to the slightest sound or movement.
“Nothing to our rear but the SEAL,” Geronimo declared, covering their flank.
They reached the bodies.
“What a mess!” Hickok commented. “Looks like somebody caught them in a cross fire.”
The prone forms were shot to pieces; men, women, and even children were each perforated with multiple bullet holes.
“Doesn’t look like they had a chance,” Hickok deduced. “This guy still has a rifle slung over his shoulder. It must have happened so fast he didn’t have time to bring the rifle into play.”
Geronimo knelt and studied one of the bodies. “Couldn’t have happened more than forty-eight hours ago, probably closer to thirty-six.”
“Do you notice anything else?” Blade asked them.
“Like what?” Hickok answered.
Blade nudged a man dressed in black with the toe of his right moccasin. “I count fifty-two bodies. This one, from the way he’s dressed, is obviously a Horn. Look at this other one, the one wearing the beads and the outlandish hair style. I could be wrong, but I’d guess that this one is a Porn.”
“Horns and Porns together?” Hickok said skeptically. “I know there was a truce in effect, but they still weren’t too fond of each other. What gives?”
“And what about the animals?” Geronimo brought up.
“The animals?” Hickok repeated.
“Yeah. Look at the bodies. None of them have been touched by the animals. There are a lot of wild animals in the Twin Cities, not to mention all of the rats. Why haven’t some of them taken a few bites out of the corpses:
“Something scared the animals off,” Blade reasoned.
“Like what?” Geronimo queried.
“Your guess is as good as mine,” Blade replied.
Hickok gazed at the body of a little girl with blonde curls and a ragged cavity where her left cheek had been. “So what do we have here? Horns and Porns and possibly Nomads together, which is downright peculiar.
From the position of most of the bodies, I’d say they were trying to head out of the Twin Cities when they were ambushed from both sides.
Whoever did this never heard of the word mercy.”
“Do we keep going?” Geronimo questioned Blade.
“We gave our word to these people,” Blade stated. “When the Family gives its word, it keeps it.”
“If you want to get technical,” Geronimo said, “it was Hickok who gave his word on behalf of the whole Family. We could just leave and send them a post card explaining that Hickok is off his rocker and no one should ever believe a word he says.”
“I don’t rightly know what a post card is,” Hickok retorted, “but I do know when I’ve been insulted. Again.”
“You’re improving!” Geronimo grinned.
“We keep going,” Blade directed. He wheeled and strode to the SEAL.
Joshua unlocked the doors to admit them. “Any idea what happened to all of those people?”
“None,” Blade admitted.
“Where’s your M-16, Josh?” Hickok asked as he slid into his seat.
“In the back,” Joshua revealed.
“Better get it and make sure it’s loaded,” Hickok advised.
“I’d rather not,” Joshua stated distastefully.
“Do it,” Blade commanded, turning the engine over. He drove to the right, along the shoulder of the highway, avoiding the bodies. Once past the last of the corpses, he resumed driving on the pitted, cracked road surface.
“Where we headed, pard?” Hickok wanted to know.
“Same destination,” Blade revealed. “Moore Lake. That’s where the Nomads were camped, last we knew.”
“Take a left here,” Geronimo advised, consulting their map. “This is 61st Avenue. It should take us almost to the north shore of the lake.”
Blade complied, his gray eyes continuously roving over the vegetation on both sides of the road. The SEAL’s bulletproof structure would protect them from an ambush, but there was no sense in taking needless risks. He followed 61st Avenue until he glimpsed Moore Lake, and then left the roadway on a straight beeline to the water, the SEAL’s gargantuan tires crushing every obstacle in their path.
The others were quiet, expectant, and tense, on guard for any trouble.
Blade hugged the shoreline as he cruised around the lake.
“No sign of any wildlife,” Geronimo mentioned.
“Someone, or something, has been through this area not long ago,” Hickok speculated.
“I’ve been thinking about those bodies,” Geronimo commented, “about why the animals haven’t eaten them yet. The only thing I can think of that would scare off all the animals over a prolonged period would be steady traffic on the highway or…”
“Or frequent, periodic traffic on the highway,” Blade finished for him.
“You’ve been thinking the same thing I’ve been thinking,” Geronimo said.
“Sure have,” Blade confirmed.
“I don’t understand,” Joshua stated. “What do you mean?”
Hickok looked at the Empath. “They mean patrols, Josh. Regular patrols passing along the highway would scare off all the critters.”
“You too?” Geronimo asked Hickok.
“Yep, pard. Me too.”
“We’ll know soon enough,” Blade announced. “I just caught sight of some tents about a quarter-mile ahead.”
All four of them focused on the terrain ahead as the transport bypassed a clump of boulders, circumvented a stand of trees, and arrived at their destination, a large field with a dozen tents situated in its center.