The Kalispell Run Page 9

  It was only a matter of time.

  And then, Mr. Gremlin, Blade vowed, I’m returning to Kalispell whether you like it or not!

  Chapter Ten

  The noon sun was high overhead on the day after Blade vanished.

  Geronimo approached the SEAL from the east, having spent most of the morning searching for his friend. What, he wondered, could have happened? Ever since Blade had failed to come back the day before, he had been filled with apprehension. Geronimo stopped at the driver’s door and glanced over his left shoulder. He’d gone to investigate and found the Auto-Ordnance, the Dan Wesson, and the Bowies in a pile in the center of First Avenue East, abandoned. Blade would never commit such a foolish act, so there was only one, inescapable, conclusion: Blade was dead or captured. Geronimo had carried the weapons to the transport and left them in the rear section while he went hunting for some sign, any clues, to Blade’s disappearance. Nothing.

  With Star and Rainbow, Geronimo spent the night in the SEAL, protected from any dangers lurking in the dark. Despite Rainbow’s urging, Geronimo refused to leave Kalispell until he discovered the reason for Blade’s absence. Rainbow, recovered from her initial shock at finding her people gone, insisted on seeking her tribe immediately. Geronimo stubbornly balked.

  “I will not leave Kalispell,” he told her, “until I know beyond a shadow of a doubt that Blade is dead. Until then, we stay right where we are!”

  Rainbow, annoyed, sulked until she fell asleep.

  Star was strangely quiet all night, although she slept fitfully.

  At daybreak, Geronimo was up and out, hoping to find a trail, some tracks, anything indicating Blade’s plight. Now, hungry, tired, and disgusted by his failure, Geronimo opened the door and climbed into the SEAL.

  “Let me guess,” Rainbow said as Geronimo wearily reclined in his seat.

  She was in the front row, using the bucket seat on the passenger side. Star was lying across the back seat.

  “I couldn’t find a trace of him,” Geronimo acknowledged.

  “Why don’t you face facts?” Rainbow demanded. “Blade is dead. It’s useless for us to stay here. We should be looking for my tribe.”

  Geronimo fixed her with a probing stare, “You’re awful eager to write Blade off. Why?”

  “I am not,” Rainbow protested. “I’m just realistic. Blade is only one person. My tribe numbers about three thousand. I am sorry for Blade, but we have a greater problem to solve. Namely, what has happened to my people? We must find out!”

  Geronimo stared out the windshield, reflecting. In all fairness, he couldn’t fault her for wanting to locate the Flatheads. How would he react if he returned to the Home and discovered the Family missing? The same way, no doubt. But he just couldn’t bring himself to leave Kalispell. Not yet, anyway. He also wasn’t willing to tolerate Rainbow’s constant harping on the fate of her tribe. Maybe he could kill three birds with one stone: stay in Kalispell, take Rainbow’s mind off the Flatheads for a while, and achieve the task Plato sent them to perform.

  “Where’s this hospital you told us about?” he asked her.

  “The hospital?” Rainbow seemed surprised by the question.

  “You do recall telling us about a hospital in Kalispell,” he reminded her.

  “The one where we might find the items Plato is looking for, remember?”

  His tone was slightly sarcastic.

  “I know which hospital,” Rainbow replied. “I didn’t expect you to be thinking about it at a time like this.”

  “I think about it all the time,” Geronimo informed her. “It’s always in the back of my mind. The future of the Family is at stake. Alpha Triad was sent out twice after the medical equipment and supplies Plato needs, and each time we were unsuccessful. We won’t strike out a third time, not if I can help it. I’m getting whatever we find back to the Home, even if I have to lug it on my back.”

  “I see.” Rainbow slowly nodded. “Okay. The Kalispell Regional Hospital is north of here. We’ve got to take Highway 93 north to Sunny view Lane, then head east. It’s not far.”

  “Fine.” Geronimo reached into his right front pocket and extracted the keys. He hesitated before inserting the ignition key. This was risky. He’d never driven the SEAL before. What if he wrecked it? He’d studiously observed Blade and Hickok when they drove, and he’d studied the Operations Manual. Was it enough, he wondered, to enable him to drive the transport to the hospital and back?

  There was only one way to find out.

  Geronimo placed the key in the ignition and held his breath. He’d remembered to throw the red lever located under the dashboard to the right first thing in the morning. This lever activated the solar collector system. On a sunny day, the batteries required about an hour to reach full charge. A gauge above the red lever indicated when energization was complete, and the red lever was then replaced in the straight-down position.

  “Something wrong?” Star asked. She rose to a sitting position and leaned foward between the bucket seats.

  “I’ve never driven the SEAL before,” Geronimo revealed.

  “You haven’t?” Star asked.

  “What?” Rainbow interjected. “You’re kidding.”

  “Nope,” Geronimo shook his head. “Wish I were. Blade and Hickok did all the driving. Frankly, I didn’t want the responsibility.”

  “Just great!” Rainbow snapped. “Do you think you can get us to the hospital in one piece?”

  “I’ll do my best,” Geronimo promised.

  “I hope so,” Rainbow muttered.

  Brother, was she in a crabby mood! “If you think you can do any better,” Geronimo proposed, “you’re welcome to try.”

  “No, thanks,” Rainbow declined. “I wouldn’t know the first thing about driving this vehicle. The cars and trucks my people owned wore out long ago. We had no idea working vehicles still existed until the army from the Citadel attacked. They had a lot of jeeps, I think they were called, some trucks, and three things called tanks.”

  “How many soldiers were there in this army?” Geronimo inquired.

  “My best guess would be a couple of thousand,” Rainbow replied.

  “Well, here goes nothing.” Exactly as he’d seen Blade and Hickok do on dozens of occasions, Geronimo twisted the ignition key. The engine turned over, purring softly, producing a muted whine. So far, so good. Mentally enumerating the steps, Geronimo carefully followed the correct procedure.

  Place right foot on the brake, shift the lever on the steering column from PARK to DRIVE, place the right foot on the acceleration pedal and gently depress.

  The SEAL creeped forward.

  “You did it!” Star exclaimed, delighted, clapping her hands.

  Geronimo forced his tense muscles to relax. He wheeled the transport in a tight U-turn, heading north on Main.

  “What are those for?” Star inquisitively inquired, pointing at a row of toggle switches in the center of the dash. There were four of them, each with a single lever below it. M, S, F, and R.

  “No one knows,” Geronimo said. “They’re not mentioned in the Operations Manual for the SEAL. Everyone’s been afraid to touch them until we discover their purpose.”

  “Let’s find out,” Star declared, reaching for one of the toggle switches.

  “No!” Geronimo lunged and caught her wrist in his right hand. “Don’t ever touch them! Or anything else in here, for that matter. We can’t afford to damage the transport through ignorance or negligence.”

  “I’m sorry,” Star said sheepishly.

  “She didn’t mean any harm,” Rainbow offered.

  Geronimo gripped the steering wheel with both hands, his knuckles white.

  “I’m sorry,” Star said again.

  “No problem,” Geronimo lied, smiling to reassure her. He drove at five miles an hour until they reached the intersection of Main and Sunset Boulevard.

  “Take a left here,” Rainbow directed. “Sunset Boulevard turns into Highway 93.”

 
; Geronimo followed her instructions. After several minutes, a faded sign read HIGHWAY 93 NORTH.

  Perfect.

  The junction with Sunny view Lane appeared in a few minutes more.

  “Take a right,” Rainbow guided him.

  Geronimo slowly turned onto Sunnyview.

  “The Kalispell Regional Hospital is that big building up ahead on the right,” Rainbow said, pointing.

  The area surrounding the hospital, like the rest of Kalispell, was deserted. Several rusted hulks, former cars and trucks, lined Sunnyview Lane. The hospital parking lot contained three antiquated cars parked near the main entrance.

  Geronimo braked the SEAL at the curb near the front entrance. The transport jerked a bit as he stopped.

  “Sorry,” he said, apologizing for the bumpy motion. “These brakes are touchy.”

  “It looks dark in there,” Star noted.

  The child was correct. Dark and foreboding. Geronimo glanced upward, counting the stories. Five. A sign to his left, still legible in sections, proudly proclaimed the completion of the Kalispell Regional Hospital expansion project.

  “Let’s go!” Star eagerly urged him.

  “You’re staying here,” Geronimo told her, “with the doors locked.”

  “I want to go!” Star protested.

  “He has a point,” Rainbow informed her daughter. “You’ll be safe in here. We won’t be too long.”

  “I don’t want to stay here alone!” Star disputed her mother.

  “You’ll be safe in here,” Geronimo stressed. “Keep the doors locked, like I showed you, and nothing can get inside.”

  “You don’t have any choice,” Rainbow added.

  “You’re staying in here whether you like it or not.”

  Star pouted and sat back in the seat.

  “How well do you know the inside of this hospital?” Geronimo asked Rainbow.

  “I’ve only been inside it two times,” Rainbow replied, “and I never really memorized the interior.”

  “Well, I guess it doesn’t matter all that much,” Geronimo stated. He picked the FNC up from the console and reached into his left front pocket with his other hand to ensure the list Plato had given them was still there.

  It was.

  “Okay,” Geronimo announced. “Let’s get to it.”

  Rainbow and Geronimo exited the transport and waited for Star to lock both doors from the inside.

  “She’s done it,” Geronimo commented. He led the way up the front steps to the door, a shattered, gaping aperture, framing a shadowy hallway.

  “Think anyone is in here?” Rainbow whispered.

  “Never know,” Geronimo stated. “Stay alert, just in case.”

  The Kalispell Regional Hospital was deathly quiet, the air stale and musty, the floors and the furnishings covered with the dust of decades of neglect.

  “It’s spooky in here,” Rainbow nervously noted.

  Geronimo, vividly recalling his harrowing experiences in the sewers of the Twin Cities, tightened his grip on the FNC. If anything so much as squeaked, he’d shoot first and ascertain its identity later!

  The light filtering in from outside provided only marginal illumination, sufficient to reveal the interior but not with any clarity.

  “How will you find what you’re looking for?” Rainbow inquired.

  Geronimo, proceeding from door to door, glanced over his shoulder.

  “Most of the plates on the doors are still attached and legible. I’m looking for the laboratory.”

  “Why?” Rainbow questioned.

  “Because of all the rooms in a hospital,” Geronimo responded, “the lab is most likely to contain what we need.”

  “What exactly is it you’re looking for?” Rainbow queried, staying right on his heels.

  “A number of things,” Geronimo answered. “We already have the generator Plato wanted. We confiscated it from the Watcher outpost in Thief River Falls. Now we need a microscope…”

  “What’s that do?” Rainbow interrupted.

  “Makes little things big,” Geronimo said. “Plato said he needs one to examine our blood.” He paused. “That reminds me. I must find test tubes and a blood-testing machine, among other items.”

  “I’m surprised,” Rainbow mentioned, “you don’t have all of this stuff already. The Home impressed me as being well stocked by your Founder, Carpenter.”

  “We have a few test tubes,” Geronimo confirmed. “The Family owned a microscope at one time too, but some dummy broke it years ago.”

  They were nearing the end of the hallway.

  “Is this what you’re looking for?” Rainbow pointed at a sign on the wall.

  Geronimo crossed to the sign and studied the white lettering. “This may be it,” he said excitedly. The sign, faint and barely legible in the gloom, read LAB. Below the single word was a small arrow pointing at a nearby door.

  “I’ll help you carry out whatever you find,” Rainbow offered.

  “Thanks.” Geronimo walked to the door and tried the knob. “It isn’t locked!” He cautiously pushed the door open, the hallway filling with the eerie creaking of hinges unused for a century.

  The Lab was spacious and filled with a variety of medical equipment and scientific apparatus. Wide windows permitted radiant sunshine to fill the room. Cobwebs and dust overspread everything.

  Rainbow leaned against the door jamb as Geronimo anxiously went from one piece of equipment to another. “How will you know what you’re looking for?” she asked him. “I wouldn’t know a microscope if I was sitting on one.”

  “Plato showed us photographs of the things he wants,” Geronimo explained as he examined a white box with six silver switches and a row of colored buttons. “Many of them were in the encyclopedia or our medical reference volumes. He also provided each of us with a copy of his list.”

  “Your Plato thinks of everything,” Rainbow commented.

  Geronimo frowned. “Believe it or not, as sharp as Plato’s mind is now, he was once even sharper. Did I ever tell you he has the senility?”

  Rainbow slowly shook her head, her long black hair swaying. “No, I don’t believe so. You said the Family was affected by the premature senility, but you never mentioned names.”

  “Well, Plato has it,” Geronimo said sadly. “And, between you and me, it’s beginning to affect him visibly, to the point where others have noticed.

  Plato is not quite fifty years old, and already he has the appearance of someone over seventy before the nuclear war. His brown hair turned completely gray in the space of nine months’ time. Once he was robust and energetic, but now his body is stooped and frail. It’s pathetic.”

  “How many Family members did you say have the disease?” Rainbow inquired.

  “Only five of the oldest,” Geronimo replied. “But when you only have a population of seventy or eighty to start with, five is a lot.”

  Rainbow stepped into the hallway and looked at the front doorway. “I’m not too thrilled at leaving Star alone this long.”

  “I’ll hurry as best I can,” Geronimo promised. A table near the center window drew his interest. He peered at a thing with a glass tray at the bottom, four knobs above the tray, and a metallic tube extended beyond the knobs. “Thank the Spirit!”

  “What is it?” Rainbow walked inside the lab.

  “Found a microscope!” Geronimo elated. “And here’s a rack of vials and test tubes!”

  “Keep searching,” Rainbow urged, eager to return to the SEAL.

  “I’m on a roll now,” Geronimo stated enthusistically.

  “Say,” Rainbow mentioned, “I’ve been meaning to ask you something.”

  “What is it?” Geronimo kept scanning the tables.

  “You told me you picked the name Geronimo,” Rainbow said. “I know all about the Family practice of selecting any name you want to use on your sixteenth birthday, about how seriously you view your Naming.”

  “Yeah. So?”

  “So why did you choose the
name of Geronimo? Our tribe has some books, and many of us were taught to read by our parents. I know who Geronimo was. Why did you pick him?” Rainbow watched Geronimo move from table to table.

  “It was my Indian heritage,” Geronimo revealed as he sought the items on his list.

  Rainbow smiled knowingly. “I can imagine how proud you feel, being an Indian.”

  Geronimo glanced at her. “That’s part of it. My parents departed this sphere to join the Great Spirit on high, leaving me as the sole Indian in the Family. For all I knew, I was also the only Indian left alive in the country. This was before we discovered the members of the Family weren’t the only survivors of the Big Blast.”

  “But why Geronimo?”

  “I admired his indomitable courage. No matter how many hardships befell him, Geronimo refused to give up. He persevered against insurmountable odds. True, he ended his days an alcoholic wreck, but he was essentially a survivor. I could identify with him.”

  “That’s it?” Her voice reflected her disappointment.

  “What did you expect? Geronimo’s life story?” Geronimo asked, puzzled by her disapproving expression.

  “I thought maybe you admired him for another reason,” Rainbow said.

  “Like what?”

  “Like,” she began, walking toward him, “his intense hatred of the white man and everything the white man stood for.”

  “Geronimo?” He stopped searching and stared at her.

  “Of course!” Rainbow exclaimed. “He recognized the true character of the whites! They’re deceitful, conniving liars and hypocrites, all of them!

  The whites mistreated our forefathers and cheated them at every opportunity. You must know all of this, what with all the books in your Family library.”

  Geronimo concealed his reaction to her fiery words and flushed features. Why was she getting so worked up over events long past?

  “The Flatheads know the whites can’t be trusted,” Rainbow continued proudly. “We learned from our history. We know what the whites did to the world. After all, it was predominantly white races responsible for starting World War Three, wasn’t it?”

  “I never thought of it that way,” Geronimo admitted.