“All right, I’ll tell you where they’re headed. Not that the information will do you any good. Even you can’t prevail against Longat and the others.”
“Where?” Blade demanded harshly.
Yeddt told them.
“Thanks,” Blade said. He stood, slipped the Bowies into their sheaths, and looked at Achilles. “I’d like to borrow your Bullpup for a minute.”
“Be my guest,” the novice responded, and banded the weapon over.
Blaze gazed at the mutation. “Close your eyes and open your mouth.”
Yeddt obeyed.
“Wider.”
The mutation opened its mouth as wide as it could.
Without displaying a flicker of emotion, Blade inserted the shotgun barrel between the creature’s lips and squeezed the trigger.
CHAPTER EIGHTEEN
Hickok sprang erect, as did the rest of his companions, and took a stride toward the leader of the Breed. “Get your paws off her!” he snapped.
“What do you mean by breakfast?” Priscilla queried, watching the pair of bearish mutations start to convey Milly Odum to the center of the clearing.
“Surely a smart human like you can figure it out,” Longat replied, and turned.
Eagle Feather’s features registered profound shock. He ran up behind Longat, grabbed the creature by the left shoulder, and spun the genetic deviate around. “You didn’t!”
Umgat’s visage became a mask of sheer hatred. “You dare lay a hand on me, you human scum!” he bellowed, and raised the tomahawk overhead.
With a swift bound Hickok launched himself into the air and tackled Eagle Feather, looping his arms around the Flathead’s waist and bearing both of them to the ground before the mutation could strike. He let go and rolled to his feet.
Over a dozen of the Breed converged on the captives, surrounding the humans to prevent them from interfering.
Glowering, Longat slowly lowered the tomahawk. “You were lucky this time,” he said to the Flathead. “I don’t want to waste food. But well take you next.” He wheeled and stalked off.
“What does he mean by food?” Priscilla inquired of no one in particular. “He can’t mean what I think he means.”
“He does,” Hickok confirmed, and offered his hand to Eagle Feather.
“You saved my life,” the Flathead said, and allowed the gunfighter to pull him up.
“Think nothin’ of it.”
“I wish you hadn’t.”
“Why?”
Eagle Feather gazed toward the middle of the clearing, where the rest of the Breed were forming a circle around Milly Odum. “Because now I know what happened to my family. I wish I was dead.”
“Would your loved ones want you to give up without a fight?” Hickok asked, noticing the sorrow etching lines in the Flathead’s face.
Eagle Feather appeared not to hear the question. He looked blankly down at the grass. “My wife and sons are gone,” he said softly, shinned.
“And what a horrible way to go.”
“Don’t you want to get revenge?” Hickok commented.
Again the Flathead did not respond. “Those I loved most have been taken from me! Murdered by these monsters!”
Geronimo placed his bound hands on Eagle Feather’s right shoulder. “I know how rough this is for you. We’re here if you need us.”
“I’m too late,” Eagle Feather said numbly, “Too late.”
“What are they doing to Milly?” Priscilla interjected.
The petrified woman was standing with her arms hanging limp and utter helplessness reflected in her expression, gaping at the ring of hostile creatures surrounding her. Her lower lip trembled and her fingers twitched.
“We’ve got to help her!” Priscilla declared.
Hickok scanned the 14 mutations enclosing them. “How?”
“I don’t know. But there must be something we can do.”
One of the Breed laughed. “There’s nothing you can do, human. Watch closely, because it will be your turn before you know it.”
His stomach tightening into a knot, Hickok saw Longat weave through the pack of abominations and walk directly up to Odum. The woman gazed fearfully into the mutation’s eyes.
“Oh God. No!” Priscilla said. “Please no!”
Four of the Breed detached themselves from the main group and hurried into the forest, returning within a minute bearing limbs and sticks which they carried to the middle and deposited near Longat and Odum. They made another trip to gather wood, and came back with even more.
“That should be enough,” Longat told them, and nodded at the pair who usually attended him.
The duo seized Odum by the arms and held her fast.
“Brothers and sisters of the Breed,” Longat said, raising his arms and beaming, “The time has come for us to feed again. Because we’ve been fortunate enough to obtain a supply of our favorite delicacy, we’ll enjoy a feast and remain here until noon. But before we fill our bellies, I must address you on an important issue.”
“How soon before we return to our valley?” a husky mate interrupted.
“We’ll be home in two weeks,” Longat stated. “We’ve seen enough of the outside world to know that the humans will pose no serious threat to our plans to expand the territory under our control. We’ll start slowly at first and subjugate those towns nearest to our valley. In ten years we should control all of the former state of Idaho.”
Hickok couldn’t resist the opportunity to taunt the mutation. He cupped his hands to his mouth and shouted, “You’re out of your gourd, jerk-face. There aren’t enough of your bozos to lake over a whole blamed state.”
Longat stared balefully at the Warrior. “There will be once we convert half of the humans we capture.”
“Convert them to what? Your slaves?”
“No, you pathetic imbecile. We have the means of transforming humans into the genetically superior species we are.”
The revelation jolted Hickok. For a few seconds be believed that Longat might be lying to get his goat, until he saw the leader’s smug countenance.
“That’s impossible,” he blurted out.
“You wish it was impossible. But we can transform hundreds, even thousands of lowly humans given time and their unwitting cooperating.”
“How?”
“We have a way.”
“You’ll never get the time you need,” Hickok said. “The Federation will send in an army to eliminate every last one of you.”
“We know about the Federation. And we know the Federation can’t destroy us without first locating our home, which they’ll never do. There’s no way the Federation army can cover every square inch of the Pacific Northwest.”
“The Federation will stop you crumbs,” Hickok stated, hoping he projected more confidence than he felt.
Longat gave a contemptuous wave of his hand, dismissing the statement as irrelevant, and faced his followers. “You’ve heard this human babble, and you all know how insignificant humans are in the grand scheme of things. Back in the early days, when the Breed initially appeared, there were those of our ancestors who viewed the transformation as a curse. They were still new to their condition and foolishly persisted in regarding humans as the acme of development on his planet.” He paused and smirked. “But we know better now. We know that humans are a blight, a demented species who nearly obliterated all life on Earth. They have no natural right to rule this world. They lost any claim to ascendancy by conclusively demonstrating their inherent insanity.”
“Humans suck!” one of the creatures yelled.
“Death to all human scum!” chimed in another.
“No, not to all of them,” Longat corrected him. “We’ll cultivate some of the humans as a food source, but our primary priority must be to increase our own ranks, to render us invincible. That is the reason I’ve proposed using the lake water to transmute large numbers of humans. Between natural reproduction of our species and the transformation process, we can triple our population in a single generation. In two generations the Breed will number over one hundred thousand and the humans will crumble before our combined might.”