Rikki-Tikki-Tavi sighed, removed the scabbard from under his belt, and slowly placed the katana on the ground. He straightened, resigned to yet another delay. Resistance would be foolish.
The man with the red mustache and beard grinned. “That’s better. I’m glad you have some common sense.” He strolled toward the Warrior. “My name, by the way, is Locklin.”
“I am Rikki.”
Locklin stopped and extended his right hand. “I’m pleased to make your acquaintance.”
Rikki shook. “Do you treat all your prisoners with such hospitality?”
“No,” Locklin admitted. “But we don’t often snare someone like you.”
“Why am I special?” Rikki asked, releasing Locklin’s hand, impressed by the man’s firm handshake.
“Because we usually trap police or Terminators looking for us,” Locklin said. “Only once before have we caught someone who wasn’t from Atlanta.”
“And you’re certain I’m not?”
“For several reasons,” Locklin stated. “Anyone from Atlanta would be wearing a prescribed uniform. You’re not. Citizens are not permitted to leave the city unless they obtain a special pass, and the Peers never issue such a pass. And finally, no one in Atlanta would be able to use their hands and feet like you do. What was that?”
“I’m somewhat proficient at the martial arts,” Rikki answered. He nodded at the two forms sprawled on the turf. “I did not harm them. They will awaken shortly.”
Locklin looked at several of his band. “Rouse them,” he ordered. Then, to the rest, he made a twisting motion with his left hand and all the bows were lowered.
“Hand signals,” Rikki remarked.
Locklin nodded. “They come in handy at times.”
“You are the leader of these Freedom Fighters?” Rikki asked.
“That I am,” Locklin confirmed. “I started the band fourteen years ago, in the heady days of my youth.”
Rikki scanned the men and women. “Are all of them from Atlanta?”
“Yes,” Locklin said. “Each and every one was a victim of persecution, or their family was. Each and every one has a score to settle with the Peers.”
“Who are these Peers?”
Locklin pointed eastward. “Our camp is five miles off. Join us for a meal, and I’ll tell you everything of importance about the Peers and Atlanta.”
“I can’t.”
“Why not?” Locklin questioned.
“I am with two friends,” Rikki said. “I won’t leave without them.”
“Where are they?”
Rikki watched three men engaged in awakening Big John and Dale. His instincts told him Locklin was trustworthy, but he was not about to needlessly endanger Hickok and Blade by exercising a premature confidence. He looked at the rebel leader. “Sorry. I’m not at liberty to say.”
Locklin shrugged. “A person can’t be too trusting nowadays. I won’t press the issue.” He paused. “I will insist on your accompanying us to our camp. On my word of honor, you will not be harmed.”
“I will go with you,” Rikki said. For the moment, he was outnumbered and constrained to comply.
Big John was rising and rubbing his sore neck. His gaze rested on the man in black and his face went crimson. “You! You did this to me!” He clenched his fists and took a step toward the Warrior.
Locklin moved between them. “John! No!”
Furious, Big John glared at the diminutive stranger. “He hurt me!”
“He could have killed you,” Locklin commented.
“I want to tear him apart,” Big John declared.
“He is our guest,” Locklin said. “I’ve given my word that he will not be harmed.”
Big John gaped at Locklin. “You can’t be serious.”
“Very.”
The big man’s hands relaxed and he frowned. “This isn’t fair. I want another crack at him.”
“You heard me,” Locklin said harshly.
“Yeah,” Big John stated, pouting. “I heard.”
Locklin glanced at the martial artist. “I want your word that you will hear me out.”
Rikki did not respond.
“Look, I know you’ll try to escape the first chance you get,” Locklin said.
“I’m no dummy. And I’m a shrewd judge of character. If you give your word, I know you’ll keep it. So I want your word you’ll listen to what I’ve got to say. Do I have it?”
Rikki-Tikki-Tavi realized all eyes were upon him. If he declined, Locklin would still demand he accompany them to their camp, probably under close guard. If he accepted, he might be able to name his own terms. “If I agree, I want your word in return.”
“On what?”
“You will allow me to leave without interference,” Rikki said.
“Is that all? You have it,” Locklin vowed.
“Then I give my word I will hear you out.”
Locklin beamed. He looked at Big John. “Give him his weapons.”
“What?”
“Do you need your ears checked?” Locklin quipped. “Give the man his weapons.”
Big John’s features reflected utter bewilderment. “But, boss—”
“There are no buts about it,” Locklin said testily. “Do it!”
With manifest reluctance. Big John retrieved the katana and the Uzi and gave them to the man in black.
“Thank you,” Rikki said, taking his weapons.
Locklin stared at Dale. “And how are you doing?”
“I feel like I was flattened by a two-ton boulder,” Dale replied. “But I can walk.”
“Then we head out,” Locklin commanded. He raised his right arm and gestured to the east. “To camp. Scarlet and Jane on point. Partington and Stutely, the rear. Move it people.”
The band mobilized rapidly, forming a column of twos, the rear guard and the point pair hurrying to their respective positions.
“Your band is highly trained,” Rikki said, complimenting their leader.
Locklin smiled proudly. “They’ve worked hard. Our lives are on the line every day. If we don’t stay on our toes, we’re dead.”
The Freedom Fighters marched to the east, Locklin and Rikki at the head of the column.
“Why bows?” Rikki asked after they had traversed a mile.
Locklin chuckled. “It does seem an odd choice, doesn’t it? Bows and arrows against guns and flamethrowers—”
“Flamethrowers?” Rikki asked, interrupting.
“The Terminators use flamethrowers,” Locklin disclosed. “They can burn you to a crisp at three hundred feet.”
Rikki thought of the words Chastity had used concerning her mother.
The child had claimed the Bubbleheads burned her mom. “Are these Terminators known by other names?”
“Like what?”
“Bubbleheads.”
Locklin did a double take, then laughed. “Where did you hear that?
Bubbleheads is the word the children use to describe the Terminators.”
“Unusual name,” Rikki observed.
“Not really. The Terminators wear fireproof outfits, including oversized helmets. The headgear makes them look like beings from another planet.”
“Or Bubbleheads,” Rikki said.
Locklin grinned. “You’ve got it.”
“And you fight them with bows?”
“Guns are a scarce commodity,” Locklin explained. “We’ve appropriated a few, but obtaining ammunition is next to impossible. Bows are easier to locate or construct, and they’re relatively silent.”
“The odds would seem to be stacked against you,” Rikki mentioned.
“Forty against an entire city.”
“Forty against the police and the Terminators,” Locklin said, correcting the Warrior. “True, there are several hundred Storm Police and a score of Terminator squads. But justice is on our side. We’ll triumph eventually.”