Harry glanced back down the street, toward the concrete building. “No sign of anyone else. Maybe he was the only one left behind when the others drove off.”
“We can’t take that chance.”
“All right, Pete. I wonder what happened to Joe and the rest.”
“I have an idea,” Pete replied, staring coldly at Hickok.
“Let’s tie him up and get out of here,” Harry suggested.
Pete reached into his pants pockets and removed a length of cord. He knelt and securely tied Hickok’s arms behind his back. “I’ll take these,” he announced, and unbuckled Hickok’s gun belt and strapped it around his own lean waist. He picked up the right Colt and slid it into his holster.
“Then I get the rifle.” Harry spotted the Henry in the tall grass and claimed it as his own.
“This was your idea,” Pete stressed again. “I agree that the general will want to question this man. But I don’t expect this guy to come along peacefully. He’ll make trouble for us, for sure.”
“That will just be too bad for him,” Harry snapped, rubbing his sore chest.
“How do you mean?”
“If this bastard gives us too much trouble,” Harry promised, “I’ll personally blow his brains out.”
Chapter Nine
The SEAL came to a stop in front of the concrete building.
“No sign of anyone,” Geronimo commented. “Maybe we should stay out here for a while.”
“Why?” Joshua asked.
Geronimo smirked. “We wouldn’t want to interrupt Hickok and Bertha if they’re getting acquainted, would we?”
“Surely they wouldn’t!” Joshua exclaimed.
Geronimo laughed. “You don’t know Hickok like I know Hickok. He’s capable of anything.”
Blade opened his door. “He better be on guard duty.”
They followed one another into the building. Bertha was sleeping, curled up on her right side.
“No sign of Nathan,” Joshua observed.
“Strange,” Blade noted. “Geronimo, check upstairs. Joshua, the basement.”
Blade turned and searched outside, surveying the street and the park.
No sign of his friend.
“He’s not upstairs,” Geronimo said, returning.
A moment later Joshua came up from the basement. He approached them, shaking his head.
“Where could he be?” Geronimo asked.
“Maybe he’s in the park relieving himself,” Blade suggested.
They waited, hoping Hickok would emerge from the park, their anxiety building.
“Would he be hiding somewhere?” Joshua asked.
“He may have his faults,” Blade replied, “but being childish isn’t one of them.”
“I have an idea,” Geronimo offered.
“What?” Blade asked him.
“I saw a trap door in the hallway upstairs. Must be the way to get to the roof. Why don’t I climb up there and look around? It’d be a great vantage point.”
Blade nodded. “Go to it.”
Geronimo ran up the stairs.
Blade walked over to Bertha, knelt, and gently shook her.
“Leave me alone,” she sleepily mumbled.
Blade shook her shoulder until she opened her eyes.
“What is it?” she drowsily inquired.
“Have you seen Hickok? We can’t find him.”
This woke her up. “White Meat? No. Last I knew, he was sitting right next to me. Where could he be?”
“Don’t know.”
“I don’t like this,” Blade said, standing. He walked to the door and leaned against the jamb.
Bertha threw her blanket to one side and stood.
“You shouldn’t be doing that,” Joshua told her.
“I can manage,” she responded. She shuffled forward and joined Blade.
“You think something happened to him?”
“It’s not like him to disappear,” Blade said. “He’s one of the most reliable people I know.”
“Says a lot for his character.”
Blade smiled at Bertha.
“Surely, if Hickok had been attacked, Bertha would have heard something,” Joshua commented.
“I’m a pretty heavy sleeper,” Bertha stated.
“Well,” Joshua said, persisting with his train of thought, “if someone attacked Hickok, surely they would have also attacked you.”
“Who can say?” Bertha answered. “Maybe they was tooty-fruity and just wanted him.”
“Tooty-fruity?” Joshua asked, puzzled.
“Gay.”
“What does being happy have to do with this situation?”
Bertha appeared surprised by Joshua’s statement. “Don’t you know what I mean? Maybe they were faggots.”
Joshua’s confused expression denoted his lack of comprehension.
“Lordy, you sure are a babe in the woods, ain’t you?” Bertha snapped, exasperated. “Maybe they liked men! Get it?”
“You mean… sexually?” Joshua asked, horrified.
“It’s been known to happen, Josh, my man,” Bertha informed him.
“I’ve never known any man who was that… way,” Joshua said.
“Yes, you have,” Blade told him.
“I have?” Joshua faced Blade. “Who?”
“Our good and former friend, Joe the Watcher.”
“How do you know?” Joshua asked skeptically.
“He told us,” Blade replied. “He told us he wanted you, and he intended to have you after they disposed of the rest of us.”
Joshua’s face visibly paled. “I had no idea,” he absently mumbled.
“You’re learning, though,” Blade noted.
There was a loud thumping sound from upstairs, followed by the pounding of feet on the hallway floor. Geronimo appeared at the top of the stairs.
“Code One!” Geronimo yelled. “The SEAL!”
The Family Warriors had developed a system of verbal and sign signals designed to convey warnings, signals, and other information. A low whistle meant danger, take cover. Code One told other Warriors a critical emergency situation existed, requiring immediate action and compliance with no questions asked.
“Move!” Blade ordered as Geronimo came down the stairs.
“What’s going on, babe?” Bertha asked, alarmed.
Joshua was staring vacantly at the floor.
“Get in the SEAL!” Blade shoved Joshua toward the door.
“What…?” Joshua began, and was immediately cut off.
“Get in the SEAL!” Blade shouted. He grabbed Bertha’s left arm and drew her out the doorway and to the SEAL.
Geronimo joined them, opening the SEAL’s door on the passenger side.
Joshua climbed in, then helped pull Bertha up onto the rear seat with him. They perched there, obviously confused.
Geronimo climbed into the front.
Blade ran around the SEAL and jumped in the driver’s seat.
“Which way?” Blade asked Geronimo.
“Turn it around,” Geronimo directed. “Head south.”
Blade started the engine, threw the transmission into drive, and wheeled the SEAL in a tight U-turn. He followed the street along the park until they came to a wide avenue bearing south. Blade turned onto the avenue and gunned the motor.
“Will someone tell me what the hell is going on?” Bertha angrily demanded. “I got a right to know.”
“I was on the roof,” Geronimo explained. “I saw three men heading south, and one of them had his hands tied behind his back. It was Hickok.”
Bertha anxiously leaned forward. “You sure?”
“Positive,” Geronimo stated. “The distance was too great to make out much detail, but from the way Hickok was moving I’d say he’s been injured.”
“Oh no!” Bertha gripped Blade’s shoulder. “Go faster, man! Move this thing!”
“What do you think I’m doing?” Blade retorted.
The SEAL was moving at fifty miles per hour, the fastest Blade could push it on streets clogged with fallen debris and litter, the transport weaving sharply to avoid each obstacle.