Miami Run Read online

  “For you maybe,” the giant said. “But try killing an alligator with a Bowie knife sometime. It isn’t easy.”

  “It gave you an excuse to take your annual bath,” the gunman remarked. “Besides, you like doing things the hard way.”

  The giant placed his Bowie knife in a sheath on his right hip.

  Ernestine realized the giant was carrying an identical Bowie on his left hip, and for the first time she noted the two ammo belts crisscrossing his broad chest.

  “Do you think that critter might have a hubby hereabouts?” the gunman asked as his enormous friend stepped onto the bank.

  “Maybe,” the giant answered. He glanced at the carcass. “What makes you think that one was female?”

  “Anything that contrary had to be,” the gunman joked.

  “And you talk about me being lucky,” the giant muttered.

  “What’s that supposed to mean?”

  “It means you’re the lucky one,” the giant said. “If Sherry wasn’t such an understanding wife, she would have booted you out the door years ago.”

  The gunman elected to change the topic. He faced Ernestine and smiled. “Howdy, ma’am. The handle is Hickok,” he disclosed, crossing to her and extending his right hand.

  Ernestine gazed up into a pair of alert blue eyes. “Hello,” she responded, shaking.

  “The Spirit smiled on you today,” Hickok remarked, nodding at her brother.

  Leo was lying on his back, grimacing, his right forearm on his forehead.

  The short man in black had deposited his backpack on the dirt and removed a brown leather pouch. Having lifted Leo’s shredded pant material to one side, he was administering a greenish powder to the deep lacerations.

  The giant walked over to the man in black. “How is he, Rikki?”

  The one called Rikki looked at the man with the Bowies. “I believe the leg is broken,” he replied. “He requires stitches in two of the gashes. The rest is not as serious.” He paused. “The herbs will prevent an infection, but the leg should be set and the wounds cleansed with hot water as soon as possible.”

  “We could start a fire here,” the giant proposed.

  “Our cabin!” Ernestine blurted. “Bring him to our cabin!”

  “Is your cabin nearby?” the giant inquired.

  “It’s five miles or so that way,” Ernestine said, pointing to the east.

  “The cabin would be better,” Rikki mentioned.

  “Then the cabin it is,” the giant stated. “I’ll carry the boy. Hickok, you bring the girl. Rikki, my gear.” He nodded at a point behind Ernestine.

  She turned and discovered another camouflage backpack and an automatic rifle ten feet to her rear. The giant must have dropped them when he came to their rescue. She began to rotate toward the giant, and was startled when a strong arm encircled her waist and another scooped her up by the knees. “What?” she exclaimed.

  “Don’t fret none,” Hickok advised, holding her close to his chest.

  Ernestine could see the giant lifting Leo with extreme care. “Put me down! I can walk!”

  “It will be quicker this way,” Hickok told her.

  “I can walk!” Ernestine protested.

  “You’ve just been through a nasty ordeal,” Hickok observed. “You rest and leave the runnin’ to us.” He jogged to the east, heading up the hill.

  The giant was following with Leo.

  Rikki was donning his backpack.

  “But it’s five miles!” Ernestine emphasized.

  “So?” Hickok responded.

  “You can’t carry me five miles,” Ernestine assured him. “It’s too far.”

  “This is nothin’. I once had to lug him,” Hickok said, indicating the giant with a jerk of his head. “It about near gave me a hernia.”

  Chapter Two

  “Where the devil can those children be?”

  “I don’t know, Clara,” the man responded, his brow furrowed with worry.

  “Go look for them, Ted,” Clara urged.

  Ted stepped from the wooden porch to the ground and placed his brawny hands on his hips. His stocky frame was clothed in a patched blue shirt and ragged jeans. “I swear. Sometimes those youngsters are more bother than they’re worth!”

  “The good Lord blessed us with healthy, normal children,” Clara stated.

  “We should be grateful.”

  Ted nodded. “At least their minds haven’t been turned to mush.”

  “Go find them,” Clara reiterated.

  Ted sighed and began walking across the cleared expanse in front of their small cabin. “Those twins!” he declared, then stopped, shocked.

  “Ted!” Clara exclaimed, looking out across the clearing.

  “I see them,” Ted confirmed. He wheeled and stalked toward the open cabin door.

  “Ted?” Clara said, wringing her hands in the fabric of her pink dress.

  “I’m getting the gun,” he announced as he reached the porch.

  “Ted Butler! You’ll do no such thing!” Clara rebuked him sharply.

  Ted hesitated, staring to the west. “But they’re white.”

  “They’ve got Leo and Ernestine,” Clara said.

  Ted disappeared into the cabin.

  “Ted! No!” Clara objected. She gazed at the figures, now 40 yards distant and closing at a dogtrot, and perceived they were well-armed.

  Her husband emerged with their ancient double-barreled shotgun cradled in his arms.

  “Put that away!” Clara stated.

  “No.”

  “You don’t even know if it’ll work!” Clara reminded him. “Those men are armed to the teeth!”

  “No,” Ted said with finality. He moved to the edge of the porch, interposing himself between the approaching threesome and his wife.

  “Leo looks hurt!” Clara cried.

  Ted gritted his teeth and leveled the shotgun.

  The three strangers never slowed. They fearlessly crossed the yard and halted ten feet from the porch.

  “That’s far enough!” Ted warned needlessly.

  “Howdy,” said a blond man in buckskins.

  Ted glanced at his children, his eyes narrowing as he saw Leo’s right leg.

  “Your son requires prompt medical attention,” the short man in black stated.

  “We come in peace,” added the giant bearing Leo.

  “Put down my kids,” Ted directed.

  “You’re not being very neighborly,” commented the one in buckskins.

  “Put down my kids!” Ted repeated.

  “Suit yourself, mister,” the blond man said, and gently lowered Ernestine to the grass. He moved a pace to her right, his hands dropping to his sides.

  Ted could see the sunlight glinting off the man’s pearl-handled revolvers.

  “We just toted your young’uns five miles,” the man in buckskins mentioned. “Your boy here needs help. Now.”

  “Hickok!” the giant interjected.

  The gunman glanced at his companion. “We don’t have time for this, pard.” He looked at Ted. “Put down that shotgun.”

  Ted wagged the barrel. “I’ve got you covered.”

  Hickock smiled. “I don’t mean to brag, you understand, but if you tried to shoot one of us, I’d plug you before you so much as moved a muscle. I’m askin’ you nice. Put down the gun.”

  “Poppa!” Ernestine exclaimed. “Do it! These men are our friends!”

  Ted balked.

  “Please, Poppa!” Ernestine prompted. “I’ve seen Hickok draw. You wouldn’t stand a chance! He’d kill you!”

  The gunman glanced at her. “Kill him? Are you loco? I might shoot him in the foot for being such an obstinate cuss, but I’m not about to kill your pa.”

  “Put down the damn gun!” Clara snapped.

  Surprised at his wife’s rare use of profanity and the tone in her voice, Ted slowly lowered the shotgun.

  “Thanks,” Hickok said, beaming. “I hate pluggin’ folks in the foot. It’s a pitiful waste
of toes.”

  The giant walked up the porch, his gray eyes scrutinizing Ted. “Your son was attacked by an alligator. He needs a Healer.”

  Ted reached out and touched his son’s forehead. “A Healer? There’s Doc Stone, but he lives fifteen miles from here.”

  “I am not a Healer,” the small man in black remarked. “But I do possess some small skill at treating injuries. With your permission, I will tend to your son. You can send for the physician after his condition is stabilized.”

  Ted glanced at Clara, who nodded.

  Leo appeared to be woozy. His eyeslids fluttered as he grinned at his parents. “They saved my life, Poppa, Momma. I was a goner.”

  Ted looked into the giant’s gray eyes. “Thank you. Come in.” He motioned at the doorway. “My name is Ted Butler. This is my wife, Clara.”

  “I’m Blade,” the giant said. He nodded at the gunman. “That’s Hickok—”

  “Right pleased to meet you folks,” the gunman stated.

  “—and that’s Rikki-Tikki-Tavi,” Blade said, nodding at the man in black.

  “Let’s get inside,” Clara suggested.

  “I’ll stand watch out here a spell,” Hickok offered.

  Ernestine watched her parents, Blade, and Rikki enter the cabin. She gazed at the gunman in frank fascination.

  Hickok hooked his thumbs in his gunbelt and smiled at her. “Shouldn’t you be inside with your family?”

  Ernestine shrugged. “There’s not much I could do. Leo will be okay.”

  “You think so, huh?”

  “I know it, Mister Hickok,” Ernestine assured him.

  “Drop the mister,” Hickok instructed. “And what makes you so blamed sure of yourself? You’re not much more than a sprout.”

  “I know Leo will be okay,” Ernestine explained. “We’re twins, you know.

  We’re like two peas in a pod. Sometimes we even have the same thoughts at the same time. Ain’t that spooky?”

  “Not really,” Hickok responded, his voice momentariy losing its decided western twang. “Biological twins, as Plato once said, enjoy a mental rapport.”

  “What?”

  Hickok chuckled. “Oops. Sorry. I plumb forgot myself. Yeah, you’re right. It is downright spooky.”

  “You talk funny,” Ernestine told him.

  “No one’s ever noticed it before,” Hickok said with a smile.

  “Who’s Plato?”

  “He’s the leader at the place I come from,” Hickok replied, scanning the yard and the fields beyond.

  “Where’s that?”

  “It’s called the Home,” Hickok said.

  “Your people have a name?”

  Hickok nodded. “The Family. We were named by the hombre who started the Home right before the war.”

  “Is it far to your Home?”

  “Far,” Hickok stated, grinning at her. “You sure are a bundle of questions.”

  “Am I botherin’ you?”

  “No,” Hickok said. “I’m hitched.”

  “Hitched?”

  “Yeah. I’m married.”

  “I don’t get it,” Ernestine commented.

  “You will after you’re married,” Hickok mentioned.

  Ernestine seated herself on the edge of the porch and rubbed her left side.

  “Are you all right?” the gunman inquired.

  “A little sore.”

  “We should have Rikki check you after he’s done with Leo,” Hickok suggested.

  “I’m fine,” Ernestine insisted.

  Hickok inspected their cabin, noting the craftsmanship displayed in the meticulous construction. “Did your pa build this?”

  “Yep.”

  “He did a right smart job,” Hickok said.

  “Thanks.”

  “But why’d he build it out here? Why are you folks livin’ in the middle of nowhere?”

  Ernestine frowned. “We came here about four years ago to get away from the city.”

  “Miami?”

  “Yeah. Miami. It’s about twenty miles southeast of here,” Ernestine said.

  “I know. That’s where my pards and I are headed.”

  Ernestine’s eyes narrowed. “You’d best be real careful there. Miami is a bad place. Momma says its evil.”

  “Did you like it there?”

  “No way!” Ernestine declared. “It was terrible! All those pushers after you to get stoned! Everybody on their own little trip. It was a real bummer. Being straight was out.”

  The gunman’s forehead furrowed in perplexity. “What the dickens are you talkin’ about?”

  “Don’t they have pushers at your Home?” Ernestine asked.

  “The Family doesn’t go in for pushin’ folks around,” Hickok answered.

  “And if anyone tries pushin’ us, they’re in for a world of hurt. The Warriors don’t take kindly to anyone messin’ with the Family.”

  Now it was Ernestine’s turn to be confused. “No. That ain’t what I meant.” She paused. “Are you a Warrior?”

  “Yep.”

  “Your friends too?”

  Hickok nodded. “The big dummy, Blade, is the head Warrior. Rikki and I are under him.”

  “How many Warriors do you got at this Home of yours?”

  “Let me see,” Hickok said thoughtfully. “Sometimes it seems like we’re addin’ new members every time the wind changes. We had five Triads with three Warriors apiece, and then we added the mutant Triad—”

  “Mutant!” Ernestine exclaimed.

  “Yep. Two furry runts and another ding-a-ling. They were created by a scientist, a genetic engineer. Anyway, that gives us eighteen Warriors,” Hickok detailed.

  “Mutants!” Ernestine said again, astounded.

  “You don’t like mutants?”

  Ernestine shuddered. “Who does? Some of the Dragons are mutants, you know.”

  Hickoks blue eyes locked on hers. “What do you know about the Dragons?”

  “Everybody knows about the Dragons,” Ernestine said. “Poppa says they practically own everything and everyone.”

  “And some of ’em are mutants?”

  “The ones at the top. Just ask Poppa.”

  “I will.”

  Ernestine glanced at the cabin door. “I don’t hear no yellin’. Leo’s takin’ it like a man,” she said proudly.

  “Your brother and you are real close,” Hickok noted.

  “Sure are,” Ernestine conceded. “Do you have any kids?”

  The gunman’s chest puffed up. “Yep. A little buckaroo named Ringo.

  He’s a chip off the old block.”

  “Do you let him get stoned?”

  “There you go again,” Hickok said. “Listen. Anybody throws stones at my son, and they’re liable to wind up addin’ some lead to their diet. If you get my drift.”

  “I ain’t talkin’ about the kind of stones you throw,” Ernestine stated. “I mean the—”

  Blade walked from the cabin. “Leo will be fine,” he informed them.

  “Rikki has washed the wounds and is preparing to set the leg. Leo is fortunate. It’s a clean break.”

  Ernestine stood. “I never did thank you proper for savin’ us.”

  “We happened to be in the right place at the right time,” Blade mentioned. “I heard your scream.”

  “What were you doing out there near that swamp?” Hickok inquired.

  “We heard this noise like thunder,” Ernestine answered. “And we saw this funny light in the sky.”

  “That was us,” Blade said.

  “You?”

  “The noise and the light were caused by the Hurricane,” Blade stated.

  Ernestine gazed at the blue sky. “There ain’t no hurricane in these parts.”

  Blade grinned. “Not a storm. The Hurricane I’m referring to is an aircraft, a jet with VTOL capabilities. It brought us here.”

  “I ain’t never seen no jet.”

  Hickok cleared his throat. “How long are we stayin’, pard?”
r />   “We’ve been invited to supper,” Blade said. “We’ll stay until morning. I want to learn all we can about Miami.”

  “You’re stayin’ the night?” Ernestine asked, excited. “Good!”

  There was a cry of pain from within the cabin.

  “Rikki must be settin’ the leg,” Hickok commented.

  Ernestine ran inside.

  “Sweet kid,” the gunman remarked.

  Blade surveyed the fields to the west. “Why don’t you take a walk?”

  “Is it my breath?” Hickok rejoined.

  “Conduct a perimeter sweep,” Blade directed.

  The gunman sighed and strolled to the west. “I doubt the Dragons know we’re here.”

  “Better safe than sorry,” Blade philosophized.

  “Be back in a bit,” Hickok said.

  “Just don’t get bit by a gator,” Blade commented.

  Hickok looked back, grinning. “I didn’t know you cared!”

  “We’ve already killed one alligator,” Blade noted with a straight face.

  “Giving another one food poisoning would be irresponsible.”

  “Ouch.”

  Chapter Three

  “You’re a humdinger of a cook, ma’am,” Hickok said, complimenting Clara Butler.

  Clara smiled self-consciously and shrugged. “It was a little something I threw together.”

  “Feeding you was the least we could do,” Ted remarked. “We’re in your debt.”

  The three Warriors and their hosts were sitting on the front porch, the Warriors to the right of the doorway, Ted and Clara to the left. A strikingly beautiful sunset emblazoned the western horizon. Bird and insect sounds provided a natural melody.

  “I’m beginnin’ to see why you folks settled here,” Hickok said, admiring the resplendent hues in the sky.

  “This was just part of the reason,” Ted said, then frowned. “We wanted out of Miami.”

  “Tell us about it,” Blade coaxed. “We studied the old maps in our library and read all we could on the city, but our information is outdated.

  The Founder of our compound assembled the hundreds of thousands of books we own prior to the war. All of our maps were accurate one hundred and five years ago, but things are bound to have changed since then.”

  “I have no way of knowing how it was before the war,” Ted said. “But it had to be better than it is now, what with everybody wearin’ guns and doin’ drugs. Miami ain’t fit for decent people.”