The Fox Run Page 7

  Jenny didn’t argue. She wiped around her swollen eyes, and dried her cheeks and nose. “Thanks. I needed that.”

  Blade tossed the shirt onto the table. He embraced her again, savoring the closeness of her pliant body, the warmth she generated.

  “I can’t help myself,” she explained. “I don’t want you to go.”

  “I don’t want to go, either,” he admitted.

  “Then why…?” She stood back, puzzled.

  Blade clasped her to him. He couldn’t bear to look into her eyes, afraid he would lose control. “You heard Plato. Someone must go, and Alpha Triad has as good a chance as any of the others. I don’t want to leave you, honey, but the Family’s welfare must come first. You know that.”

  Jenny silently nodded her understanding. She took a deep breath. “Take me with you, Blade. Please.”

  “I can’t.”

  “Please!” she pleaded.

  Blade drew her to the table and she leaned against the edge, staring up into his face, her expression appealing. Give me strength, he prayed to the Spirit.

  “I can’t take you with me,” he stressed, his deep voice turning husky with sentiment. “Much as I want to.” He placed a finger over her red lips to prevent her from interrupting when she started to speak. He had to finish, to get it all out in the open before he weakened and she saw how affected he really was. “If I took you along, I’d be constantly concerned for your safety. I’d worry about you first whenever danger threatened. It wouldn’t matter if only my safety was involved, but we must think of Hickok and Geronimo and Joshua. I have an obligation to them, a duty, a responsibility to perform at my peak, to mesh with them as one member of a well-trained team. If I permit myself to become distracted, my attention to waver during crucial moments, I could endanger all of them and cause their deaths. We can’t allow that to happen. You can understand, can’t you?”

  Jenny looked down at the floor, and Blade wondered if she would cry again. He couldn’t blame her.

  “Can’t you?” he repeated.

  Jenny nodded. She wiped another tear from her left eye.

  Blade placed his hands on her shoulder, “Dearest, if there was any way possible to take you along, I would. You’ll be safer in the Home with the Family. I’ll be able to completely concentrate on the matters at hand. It won’t be easy, being separated. Who knows for how long it will be? But be assured, I will return. We’ll all come back. It will be harder on you, I think.

  The waiting, with little to occupy you. The bottom line is, we have no other choice. Try and look at the bright side.”

  “The bright side! What bright side?” she demanded skeptically, brushing her blonde bangs from her eyes with her left hand.

  “When I return,” Blade said, smiling, his eyes conveying the warmth of his tender affection, “I intend to ask a certain lovely lady to bind to me, to become my eternal mate. If she’ll have me,” he amended hastily.

  Jenny’s eyes widened and brightened. She gripped his arms. “Do you mean it, really and truly?” she asked excitedly.

  “Really and truly,” he affirmed. “Truly and really.”

  “Oh, Blade!” She laughed and clung to him, trembling.

  “Are you okay?” he asked, overjoyed he had managed to cheer her up.

  “Couldn’t be better!” Jenny grinned and kissed him, hard, on the lips.

  “To marry, to be man and wife! I can hardly wait!”

  “You mean you still want me, after learning about all of my quirks?”

  “Silly. Your quirks are your more loveable aspects. Oh, darling!”

  They embraced in a long, lingering kiss. Blade felt the pressure of her full breasts against his chest, and his manhood, aroused, strained against her.

  “Mmmm. Nice. I hope you know that tonight you are all mine,” Jenny stated.

  “I wouldn’t have it any other way,” he agreed. “But right now I’d better join Geronimo and Hickok and assist them in stocking our supplies for the trip.”

  “I’ll walk with you to F Block.” she remarked.

  Blade picked up his weapons, one at a time, strapping the knives to his body as he’d planned. The Commando was equipped with a brown leather shoulder strap, and he slung the automatic over his right shoulder.

  Jenny watched him, apprehensively.

  Blade took her proffered hand and they walked from A Block and headed in a northeasterly direction, toward F Block.

  “You’re armed to the teeth, aren’t you?” she casually asked.

  “Eleven weapons, in all,” he answered. “If they get me, it won’t be without a fight.” Instantly, he noted her eyes watering, and he regretted making the stupid statement.

  “What all are you taking?” she kept the conversation going, her voice level.

  “The Commando.” He touched the carbine. “Two Vega automatics, one under each arm. My Bowies, of course. The three throwing knives on my back, a dagger on my right leg and another on my left arm, and a Buck knife in one of my pockets.”

  “You sure that’s enough?”

  He looked at her, thinking she was joking, but she was quite serious. “I think it’s enough.”

  Jenny became silent, thoughtful, and they continued walking, covering half the distance to F Block, nearing a small stand of oak trees to their right. Blade glanced at the growth and was surprised to note someone sitting at the base of one of the trees, leaning with his back against the trunk.

  “Isn’t that Joshua?” Jenny saw him too.

  Blade realized it was. Joshua was sitting in the lotus position, his eyes closed, apparently meditating.

  “I don’t think we should disturb him,” Jenny said.

  “I agree.”

  They were abreast of the trees now, and Blade’s attention was arrested by movement in the tree above Joshua.

  “Did you see that?” he asked.

  “What?”

  Something small, with reddish brown fur, was moving along a limb directly over Joshua’s head.

  “I see it,” Jenny declared. “Looks like a squirrel.”

  Blade thought so too, but he was bothered by the movement. If it was a squirrel, the motions it was making were erratic, different from normal.

  Was his imagination playing tricks on him, or was there some unusual element about this animal? Squirrels and other small game were not uncommon in the Home. They couldn’t pose any threat unless they became rabid or…

  The squirrel paused on the end of one branch, exposed, the sun revealing the reason it was moving oddly.

  Blade heard Jenny’s sudden intake of breath as he reached for the Vegas in a cross draw, thanking the Spirit he had left his shirt in A Block, that there was no chance the guns could snag on any fabric.

  “Joshua!” Jenny screamed in warning, and Joshua’s eyes opened.

  Blade was running, closing the range. He wasn’t Hickok. He needed to be sure. “Move!” he shouted.

  “Roll to your right, now!”

  Joshua obeyed immediately, the roll saving his life.

  The squirrel chattered and launched itself from the limb, narrowly missing Joshua’s leg. It landed agilely on the grass and whirled, facing Joshua.

  Joshua saw the menace and he braced for the next attack.

  Blade couldn’t wait any longer. He raised the right Vega and fired three times, trying to aim as he ran.

  The shots missed.

  The squirrel, distracted by a spray of dirt from one of the bullets, spun, spotted Blade, and charged.

  Blade tried three shots from the left Vega. The small red squirrel, a male only eleven inches in length, could cover the ground at tremendous speed.

  One of the shots nicked it on the right side and it twisted, but didn’t slow, pus spraying into the air.

  “Blade!” Jenny yelled.

  Frustrated by his lack of marksmanship, Blade tossed the Vegas to one side and drew his right-hand Bowie.

  The red came in low and fast, fearless, intent on biting and rending.

>   Blade crouched, knowing he had one chance, realizing the rodent would be on him if he missed.

  The red was four feet from Blade when it sprang, launching its body at his midsection.

  Blade swung, the Bowie arcing, the blade connecting, catching the red at the neck, slicing off the deformed head.

  “You got it!” Jenny exclaimed.

  Blade watched the headless body flop on the grass, blood and pus forming a pool around it. He repressed an urge to continue hacking the body, to chop it into tiny little pieces. How he hated the mutates!!! Every damn one of them had to be exterminated! After all, one of them had killed his father.

  “What’s going on, pard?”

  Hickok and Geronimo ran up, guns at the ready. Joshua joined the group.

  “Blade got a mutate,” Jenny explained proudly.

  They saw it. Geronimo knelt and carefully, visually, inspected the body and the head.

  “A squirrel!” Hickok stated in sheer disgust. “There’s no telling what shape and size these things come in. Remember that time a mutated frog hopped up from the moat and attacked some of the Family? A frog!

  Mutates can be anything.”

  “I’ve never seen a mutated insect or bird,” Geronimo observed. “Only animals and reptiles and amphibians.”

  “That must be important,” Jenny stressed.

  Joshua placed his right hand on Blade’s shoulder. “Thank you, my brother, for the rescue. I am not yet ready for the trip to the other side.”

  Blade was glaring at the remains of the mutate.

  “Are you all right?” Joshua asked.

  Blade grimly nodded.

  “I see you bagged the critter with your Bowie.” Hickok grinned. “Didn’t you hear shots? Ten or twenty?”

  “Blade fired six times,” Jenny detailed.

  “And missed?” Hickok asked, feigning amazement. “Maybe, instead of the Vegas, you should take a flame thrower.” He paused, snapped his finger, and playfully poked Blade in the side. “Too bad the Family doesn’t own a flame thrower, isn’t it? Then you’d really be cookin’!”

  Despite his revulsion and resentment at the mutate, Blade allowed himself to relax.

  “Better yet,” Hickok quipped, “a tank! That way, if you missed with the cannon, you could still run it over and crush it to a pulp.”

  “Will you lay off him?” Geronimo stood. “He creased the thing once. A squirrel isn’t the easiest of targets, not even for you.”

  “I’ll lay off when he gives me some sign he’s still the same adorable hombre we’ve come to know and appreciate as loco.”

  “One more crack from you,” Blade said, smiling, “and this loco is going to see if you’d like having pearl handles for your supper.”

  Hickok laughed. “Now that that’s settled, shouldn’t someone go tell the Family everything is fine? They had to hear the shots.”

  “I’ll go,” Joshua volunteered, and jogged towards the digging site.

  “I should bury the remains,” Geronimo said. “I’ll get a shovel and be right back.” He departed.

  “We’ve got most of the food packed,” Hickok informed Blade. “Come and check it when you want.” He strolled off.

  “I can’t get over the way he constantly picks on you,” Jenny said, criticizing Hickok. “Why in the world does he do it?”

  “Because he cares,” Blade answered.

  “You call that caring?”

  “Yes.”

  “Well, Nathan has a funny way of showing he cares for someone. He’s always riding you.” Jenny wouldn’t let the matter rest.

  Blade retrieved the Vega automatics. “Jenny, he doesn’t ride me any worse than he rides himself. You’ve got to understand that Hickok has trouble relating to people. He likes to get his guns do his talking, and you can only do that with your enemies. He’s uncomfortable around his friends because he has difficulty showing he cares, and he tries to mask his genuine feelings behind a flippant attitude and wisecracks. Believe me, Hickok would give his life, gladly, for any member of the Family. That’s one of the reasons he makes such an outstanding Warrior.”

  “If you say so,” Jenny said, her tone implying she had her doubts. “I just can’t understand what Joan sees in him.”

  “Ask her,” Blade advised, scouring the trees, searching for any sign of life, wondering if other mutates were lurking in the foliage. Highly unlikely. Mutates never stopped hunting, never ceased seeking flesh to consume. If any were still in the trees, they would be coming after the humans as precipitously as the red squirrel had done.

  “Hickok mentioned the frog that attacked us.” Jenny was staring at the dead squirrel. “If memory serves, that was about eighteen months ago. Right?”

  “Right,” Blade agreed.

  “We know the frog clambered out of the moat,” Jenny continued her line of reasoning. “How do you suppose this squirrel got in here?”

  “I wish I knew.”

  Jenny gazed at the distant walls. “Do you think it could get over the walls? Could there be enough for its claws to grip?”

  “I don’t know.” Blade had seen squirrels perform remarkable climbing feats, including running straight up the trunk of tall trees. The walls protecting the Home were constructed of brick, the joints even and the mortar smooth. How could a squirrel get inside the Home?

  “I don’t believe the mutate came over the walls.” Geronimo was back, bearing a shovel, and he had overheard the last part of their conversation.

  “You don’t?” Jenny asked.

  “Look at the mutate,” Geronimo directed. “Very closely.”

  Blade crouched and studied the squirrel, and only then did he notice that this mutate was unique, different from any other mutate he had ever seen. “It’s half and half,” he observed.

  “I saw the difference earlier,” Geronimo said.

  The red squirrel was a mutate, but not a complete mutate. Only the right side, the paws, the spine, and the left side of the rodent were deformed, oozing pus, covered with sores and dry brown skin. The rest of the red was your typical squirrel, covered with normal reddish brown fur.

  “I’ve never heard of one like that,” Jenny remarked.

  “Neither have I.” Blade stood. “We should inform Plato about this.”

  Joshua came jogging up to them. “Plato wants everyone at the digging site. They are ready to open a chamber they’ve uncovered,” he announced.

  “We can’t leave this lying here in the open,” Blade said, pointing out the obvious.

  “Some of the children might stumble across it.” Jenny underlined his meaning.

  “I’ll bury the mutate,” Geronimo offered. “We can advise Plato about it after this mystery chamber is opened.”

  “Want us to wait for you?” Blade asked him.

  Geronimo shook his head. “It won’t take long. You’d better be on hand when Plato unveils his secret.”

  Jenny took Blade’s hand. “First, we’ll stop and grab you a shirt.”

  Joshua was already returning to the pit.

  Jenny was eager to reach the uncovered chamber, and she hurried, pulling Blade along.

  Blade smiled back at Geronimo.

  Geronimo grinned and bent to the task of burying the mutate.

  Blade put the red squirrel from his mind for the time being, speculating on the chamber they were about to open. Was he right? Was it some kind of vehicle the Founder had buried for a special purpose? If so, and if Plato was aware of it, why hadn’t he informed any other Family members?

  Possibly, Blade reflected, Plato was afraid some of the Family might be tempted to use whatever it was before it was really needed.

  Jenny cast a backward glance at Geronimo and the squirrel. “I just hope there aren’t any more mutates in the Home,” she said.

  Blade gritted his teeth at the idea. You and me both, he thought to himself, then repeated it out loud for her benefit. “You and me both.”

  How he hated the damn things!

  Chapt
er Six

  The Family had completely uncovered the opening to the underground chamber, and tied lengths of stout rope to the three iron rings imbedded in the concrete. Ten men were assigned to each rope, and they now held the rope in their hands, their legs braced, awaiting the command to pull.

  Plato gave it. He raised his left hand over his head. “On the count of three,” he shouted for all to hear. “One.” The men tensed and tightened their respective grips. “Two.” He saw Blade and Jenny press their way to the front of those surrounding the pit. Hickok stood off to one side, his hands looped under his belt buckle. Joshua was standing quietly in the center of the crowd. “Three!” Plato called.

  The men dug their heels into the ground and pulled, their muscles straining, a determined set to their features.

  Nothing happened.

  “Pull!” someone shouted. “Pull!”

  The men grunted and heaved, exerting all of their strength.

  Plato knew the door was designed to swivel outward when the rings were pulled on. Had the mechanism rusted or broken, preventing the door from operating properly? To be so close!

  “It’s working!” a Family member yelled.

  Everyone heard a loud, grating, grinding metallic noise as the massive recessed hinges, unused and unlubricated for a century, protested a slight movement. The entranceway jerked open several feet and stopped, resisting further tugging on the ropes. A sibilant hissing, similar to the sound of steam escaping from a boiling pot of water, could be clearly heard.

  “Keep at it!” another person goaded the men on the ropes.

  The hissing, still audible, was decreasing in intensity.

  The rope pullers were striving with all their might.

  The hissing had stopped. Plato speculated it had been the sound of air being drawn into the chamber, or expelled from it, probably the former.

  The hinges squeaked as the door began swinging out and down. It was designed to pivot completely outward and rest on the ground.

  A dozen excited voices were urging the men on.

  The entranceway was now open a good six feet, and the more it opened, the less the hinges scraped, and the easier it become to pull on the ropes.