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 th
ing 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?”
Chapter Twelve
“I can’t get over it!” Hickok laughed uproariously, despite the lancing agony in his head. “I just can’t get over it!”
“You’ve made that abundantly clear,” Joshua dryly commented. “I believe we get the picture.”
“Old Josh actually blows away one of those critters! Incredible!” Hickok couldn’t seem to stop laughing.
“It wasn’t so funny for those who were there,” Bertha observed stiffly.
“Sorry, Black Beauty,” Hickok apologized. “But if you knew Josh like I know Josh, you’d be plumb amazed at him shooting that thing. Say, what are we going to call them disgusting vermin anyway?” he called out to Blade, who was driving the SEAL back to the concrete building in the center of Thief River Falls.
“I don’t know what they were,” Blade replied.
“They sure were ugly brutes,” Bertha stated, frowning.
“Then that’s what we’ll call them,” Blade said.
“What?” Joshua asked. “Ugly? I thought that was the name the people in the Twin Cities used for the mutates.”
“It is,” Blade confirmed. “No, I mean we’ll officially dub the creatures we’ve encountered the brutes. Has a nice ring to it, don’t you think?”
“The brutes?” Geronimo smiled. “It certainly is a scientific title, I’ll say that. Plato would be proud of you, Blade.”
“Do you think there are any more?” Bertha nervously inquired.
“Probably,” Blade admitted. “Whatever the brutes are, I doubt there were just the two we killed in existence. There are bound to be more.”
“Where the blazes do they come from?” Hickok wanted to know.
“If I knew that,” Blade responded, driving at a sedate pace, “I’d qualify for a position as a Family Empath.” He searched for Joshua in the rear-view mirror. “By the way, Joshua, I’m proud of the manner in which you handled yourself during the attack on poor Bertha.”
“It wasn’t much,” Joshua said softly, embarrassed.
“To the contrary,” Blade disagreed, “it was a major step for you to take.
What pleases me most, though, is that you finally brought your psychic abilities into play. It was about time.”
“I require relative quiet and a minimum of distractions to properly focus my mental capabilities,” Joshua explained. “Since we left the Home, everything has happened too fast. There’s been barely time to catch my breath.”
“Well, pard,” Hickok spoke up, “don’t expect things to change much during the rest of this trip. We seem to attract trouble like horse manure attracts flies.”
“You always did have an eloquence with words.” Geronimo chuckled.
“We’re here,” Blade announced, braking the transport in front of the Watchers’ former headquarters and parking at the foot of the front steps.
“So what now?” Bertha questioned.
“We tend to your wounds,” Blade replied, exiting the SEAL, “and hold a conference.”
Joshua, over their vociferous objections, forced Hickok and Bertha to recline on blankets next to the bar, Bertha on her mattress, Hickok by her side on the floor. The bites on Bertha’s arm were deep, and some of her flesh had been torn away by the hungry brute, but the injury wasn’t life threatening. Joshua solicitously cleaned the bites, placed a portion of herbal remedy over the exposed areas, and bandaged her arm with strips of clean cloth.
“Thanks, Joshua,” Bertha said affectionately as he finished.
“The least I could do,” Joshua responded, blushing.
“There you go again.” Bertha grinned. “You must have too much blood in your body, or something.”
“Hey!” Hickok interrupted, winking at Bertha. “Quit your flirting and check me out, okay, pard?”
“I wasn’t flirting,” Joshua said indignantly. “I never do.”
“You should try it sometime,” Hickok recommended. “It’s good for what ails you.”
“Speaking of which,” Joshua retorted, “let’s check and see what’s ailing you.”
“I can answer that one,” Geronimo interjected from his guard position at the front door. “His problem is a lack of brains.”
Hickok started to speak, but Joshua placed his left hand over the gunman’s mouth. “Be quiet,” he directed. “I can’t do this properly if you keep squirming.”
“I should take advantage of this while I have the chance,” Geronimo remarked.
Joshua’s gentle fingers probed Hickok’s wound above the right eye.
“Quite a nasty gash,” he said, “and you’ve lost some blood, but overall, I’d say you’re in good shape. Just try to avoid any sudden movements.”
“Does that mean he should keep his mouth shut?” Geronimo inquired.
“You can actually feel a draft when those lips of his start to fly.”
Hickok glared at Geronimo.
“And I wouldn’t worry about his injury.” Geronimo threw in another zinger for good measure. “Not if it’s his head. Whatever they hit him with probably broke.”
“That does it,” Hickok declared, pushing Joshua aside and rising to his feet. “I’m not a wimp. I’ll be all right.” He abruptly began swaying and gripped the bar to steady himself.
“I did warn you about sudden movements,” Joshua stated.
Blade, seated at the table, finally entered the conversation. “Nathan, lie down,” he ordered. “Don’t push yourself.”
“Yeah, White Meat.” Bertha smiled up at him. “Snuggle bunnies with me!”
“We must discuss our next move,” Blade advised as Hickok sat on his blanket, “and decide if we head for the Twin Cities in the morning or return to the Home.”
“The Home?” Geronimo repeated.
“Your Home?” Bertha said hopefully.
“Bertha,” Blade thoughtfully addressed her. “You keep telling us the situation in the Twin Cities is very dangerous…”
“You white boys just ain’t got no idea what the Twins is like!” Bertha broke in. “They are sheer murder!”
“…so we need to be at optimum effectiveness when we arrive there,” Blade said, continuing his train of thought. “Which we are not.”
“I can hold my own, pard,” Hickok mentioned. “Don’t worry none about me.”
“I’ve got to think of all of us,” Blade answered. “We must also consider the importance of our mission and the SEAL. I can’t see us going into the Twin Cities with Bertha and you at less than your best.”
“You mean you’re taking me to your Home?” Bertha asked, wonder in her voice.
“I have no choice,” Blade replied gruffly. “Besides, look at all the supplies we’ve taken from the Watchers. The generator is invaluable. We’ll dismantle it, load it and all the rest into the back of the transport, and return to our Home. We’re not that far. We’ll be back by the second day.
Thief River Falls Run Page 15
