Piece of cake, he told himself.
Slowly, exercising supreme care, Hickok drew his legs up closer to his body until his knees were touching his elbows. His legs now had a firm clasp on the beam, and he laboriously rose to a sitting position.
Hallelujah! He reached his hands down, raised the buckskin covering his left leg to just above his ankle, and unsnapped the catch on the small holster for the C.O.P. .357 Magnum. Grinning, he drew the gun and sat up again.
Now let the bastards come!
As if on cue, the door abruptly opened.
Hickok swiveled, leveling the C.O.P., his finger tightening on the trigger.
Bear, just inside the doorway, threw his hands in the air, holding the Winchester in his left fist.
“Hey!” Bear said hastily. “Don’t shoot, Hickok! I’m here to help you!”
“Close the door!” Hickok commanded harshly.
Bear complied.
“Lay that Winchester on the ground.”
“You got it!” Bear began to bend over.
“Slowly!”
Bear made a show of placing the rifle on the ground, his movements measured, conveying his lack of hostile intent.
“Now stand up and come over here,” Hickok directed, his gun steady in his grip.
Bear walked over to the edge of the pit, smiling.
“What’s so funny?” Hickok wanted to know.
“You, bro. You.” Bear laughed.
“How do you mean?”
“You sure are somethin’,” Bear stated in admiration. “Maggot made a big mistake when he didn’t kill you right off.”
“Thanks.”
“I’m tryin’ to tell you,” Bear said sincerely, looking Hickok in the eyes, “that I think you got a lot of guts. You’re one mean dude, Hickok.”
Hickok smiled. “I already know that.”
“Yes, sir.” Bear nodded his head. “Maybe Maggot’s finally met his match.”
“What are you doing here?” Hickok asked.
“I came to set you free,” Bear explained.
“Like you did Bertha?” Hickok casually remarked.
Bear’s mouth fell. “How’d you know that?”
“It wasn’t too hard to figure out,” Hickok replied. “The question is, why are you helping me?”
“Ain’t it plain?” Bear frowned. “I hate Maggot!” he snapped, venom in his words.
“I take it you’re not the only one?”
“Hell, no!” Bear gestured toward the building above them. “Nearly everybody hates him! He’s the meanest leader the Porns ever had! He’s pure scum!”
“If everyone hates him so much,” Hickok said, broaching a subject he’d mentioned before, “why doesn’t someone simply blow him away?”
“Don’t think some haven’t tried!” Bear glanced at the door. “It just ain’t that easy, is all. Like I told you before, Maggot never lets anyone get close to him with a weapon, ’less they is one of his inner circle, and only they get to pack the rods.”
“You’re one of his trusted lieutenants,” Hickok observed.
“I’m the token.”
“The what?”
“The token, man.”
Hickok went to ask a question, then thought of a higher priority. “You got a knife?”
“Right here.” Bear patted his left rear pocket.
“Cut me free,” Hickok ordered.
Bear hurriedly complied, clambering onto the beam to remove the rope from Hickok’s wrists.
When he was once again on terra firma, Hickok rubbed his aching wrists, thankful to be out of the pit. “Thanks,” he said simply.
“Don’t think nothin’ of it,” Bear responded. “You’d do the same for me.”
“You think so?”
“I know so.”
Hickok grinned. “Do you expect the others back here soon?”
Bear shook his head. “Not for a while. Maggot’s eatin’, and he don’t let nothin’ disturb him when he’s feedin’ that fat face of his.”
“Good. So we got some time on our hands. Tell me, what’s a token?”
“You puttin’ me on?” Bear eyed him quizzically.
“What’s a token?” Hickok repeated.
“I’ll try and explain,” Bear answered. “You see, there’s a lot of black Porns, almost as many as there are whites. Maggot ain’t too fond of black skin, but he don’t let it show or he’d have a revolt on his hands. So to keep all the other blacks happy, and make them believe he’s all right, he made me one of his bodyguards. I didn’t know the truth myself until after I got to know him.”
“He doesn’t like blacks.” Hickok considered this new information, pondering how he could use it to his advantage. “But you said Maggot wanted to… sleep… with Bertha.”
“Maggot will screw anything,” Bear informed him. “Anything.”
“How’d Maggot get to be top dog here?”
“He did the same as all the other heads have done,” Bear replied.
“What’s that?”
“He killed the one who was the leader before him.”
“Oh? Democratic group, aren’t you?”
“What?”
“Nothing. What happens if Maggot is killed?”
Bear’s face lit up. “How do you mean?”
“Who assumes command if Maggot is killed?”
“Whoever kills him,” Bear answered.
“What if an outsider did it?”
“You don’t understand the Porns,” Bear said wearily. “Most of us are tired of bein’ bossed around, told what to do and when to do it. We’re tired of fightin’ the Horns and the Nomads, and scrapin’ to just stay alive.”
“Why don’t they change the way things are?”
“They’re just too scared,” Bear said, eyeing Hickok hopefully, “and they haven’t got someone to show them any different.”
Hickok walked to the Winchester and picked it up.
“You got a plan?” Bear asked.
“Yep.”
“Mind fillin’ me in on it?”
Hickok stared at the door. There wouldn’t be any other cover when they came. The basement room was empty, devoid of furniture, and lacked a floor. He had the impression the room had been under construction at the time of the Big Blast. Why else would they have left a room with a dirt foundation?
“Bear.” Hickok faced him. “When Maggot comes, how many you figure he’ll bring with him?”
“No telling,” Bear admitted. “At least his four bodyguards. He’s got more guards, but the four you saw are his special ones. Maggot don’t go nowhere without them. A couple more might tag along, like Rat.”
“I hope Rat comes,” Hickok stated in a quiet, hard tone.
“But if he decides to show you off,” Bear added, “he might bring a whole bunch with him.”
“That would be too bad.” Hickok approached the door, noting it swung inward to admit entry. Good. “Can I rely on you?” he glanced at Bear.
“Me?”
“You going to help me fight?”
“I don’t know…” Bear said hesitantly.
“You said you hated Maggot,” Hickok reminded him.
“I do.”
“And remember what he did to Bertha.”
“I ain’t forgettin’,” Bear said.
“So what’s wrong?” Hickok demanded. “You don’t strike me as the yellow type.”
“I ain’t a wimp, if that’s what you mean,” Bear said testily.
“So I can count on you?”
“I don’t know, Hickok. I ain’t too fond of committing suicide.”
“Suicide?”
Bear fidgeted, nervously toying with his pants, pulling at the fabric and running his hands up and down.
“Can I count on you or not?” Hickok pressed him.
“You just don’t know what he’s like,” Bear replied. “If we miss, he’ll torture us for sure. You should have seen some of the things he’s done!
Once, a guy tried to waste Maggot and was caught tryin’. Maggot hacked off the guy’s balls and force-fed them to the poor son of a bitch! The way that man screamed! It was terrible!” Bear shuddered with the recollection.