Rikki’s katana was clear of the scabbard.
Teucer had raised his bow and was sighting at a target.
Yama was still immobile on the ground.
The blue jay was squawking to high heaven.
Another soldier noticed the first moving toward the tree and turned to watch.
I never did much like blue jays, Rikki told himself.
The guard reached the fallen tree and peered over the top of the log.
Rikki could only imagine the shocked expression on his face.
With a startled curse, the guard leaned forward, aiming his M-16.
Chapter Seven
“There you are! I’ve been looking all over for you.” She found him sitting beside the moat in the northeastern corner of the Home, as far from the mainstream of Family activity as he could get.
“I’d prefer to be alone,” he grumbled, his buckskin-clad form hunched over, his hands on his knees. His handsome face was a study in sorrow, a rare emotional display for him.
“We need to talk,” she persisted, staring at the reflection of herself in the water, her long blonde hair stirring in the breeze.
“We have nothing to talk about,” he groused.
“Give me a break!” She sat down next to him, examining his rugged, troubled features. “Never thought I’d see you like this. I’d heard the great Hickok never let anything affect him. Well, almost never, anyway.”
Hickok actually glared at her.
“Oooooh! Aren’t we pissed!”
“Leave me alone, Sherry,” Hickok told her gruffly.
“And what if I don’t?” Sherry retorted. “Are you going to whip out your famous Pythons and blow me away?”
Hickok studied her. “Why are you doing this to me?”
“I refuse to let you sit out here feeling sorry for yourself,” Sherry replied.
“If you knew why…” he began.
“I know,” she informed him. “Jenny just told me all about Joan. How you loved her. How she was killed. And how you’re not over her yet, not by a long shot.”
Hickok didn’t say anything.
Sherry tenderly placed her left hand on his shoulder. “I didn’t know about Joan when I proposed becoming a Warrior, but it wouldn’t have changed my mind even if I had known.”
Hickok started to speak, but she placed a finger over his lips.
“Hear me out, lover. This is important.” Sherry paused, gathering her thoughts. “I think I’ve already told you my life in Canada, before the Trolls kidnapped me, was pretty dull. Boring, in fact. I never liked it. I always wanted something more, some excitement in my life. And then you came along.”
Hickok was attentive to her every word.
“You rescued me from those miserable bastards. My own Prince Charming to my rescue! It was marvelous. I didn’t want to go back to Canada and a monotonous routine, so I persuaded you to bring me here to the Home. I want to stay here, Nathan. I thoroughly enjoy it here. But I wouldn’t feel right about it if I didn’t contribute to the Family. Everyone here has a specific job to do. Where would I fit in? As a Tiller? Don’t make me laugh. As a Weaver? It’d be duller than Canada. As an Empath? I don’t have the talent.”
“But why a Warrior?” he interjected.
“It’s the obvious choice,” Sherry explained. “I can learn to handle a handgun. You know I’m already a good shot with a rifle. Aren’t I?”
“You are,” Hickok reluctantly admitted.
“So there! Becoming a Warrior is the logical choice.”
“There’s more to being a Warrior than just being competent with firearms,” Hickok stated.
“I can learn the martial arts too,” Sherry said confidently.
“It’s not that,” Hickok said. “It’s a state of mind you must have if you’re to succeed as a Warrior. Without it you wouldn’t last five minutes in the field.”
“What state of mind?” she asked.
“You must constantly be prepared to kill or be killed. The fancy talk about preserving the Home and protecting the Family is well and good, but when you get down to it, to the bare facts, being a Warrior is synonymous with being a killer.”
Sherry inexplicably began laughing.
“What’s so funny?”
“I just realized you haven’t used your usual Wild West talk once this whole conversation.”
“I thought we were having a serious talk here,” Hickok snapped.
“Blasted contrary females!”
“I’m sorry,” Sherry apologized.
“I’ll bet.”
“Listen,” Sherry quickly continued, “maybe I’m not a natural killer like you, maybe I’m not cut out to be a Warrior. But I won’t know unless I try, will I?”
“You could be dead before you learn the answer,” Hickok rejoined, expecting her to ignore the remark. She did.
“Well, what’s so bad about being a killer? You’re one, right? And Blade and Geronimo and Rikki and the other Warriors. You don’t seem to mind your profession. How come it’s so bad for me?”
“You don’t understand,” Hickok mumbled.
“No, I’m afraid I don’t,” Sherry said. “Why don’t you enlighten me.”
Hickok sighed and gazed into the distance. “I just don’t want it to happen again,” he stated quietly.
“Are you afraid you’ll lose me the same way you lost Joan?” Sherry asked. “Is that it?”
Hickok’s reply was inaudible.
“I can’t hear you,” she prompted him.
Hickok whirled, his face contorted in anger. “Yes!” he exploded. “I don’t want to lose you! Satisfied now?”
Sherry clearly perceived the profound depth of his affection for the first time, and the staggering intensity of it shocked her. “I’m sorry,” she whispered. “I had no idea…”
Hickok was ripping handfuls of grass from the earth in unrestrained annoyance.
“If you don’t want me to be a Warrior, I won’t,” Sherry offered.
“It’s your life. Do whatever you want!”
Sherry eased her body closer to his and pressed against him. “I don’t ever want to do anything to hurt you, Nathan. You mean more to me than anyone else in the world.”
Hickok ceased his assault on the turf and looked into her green eyes.
“I’m serious,” Sherry said, conveying her innermost feelings, baring her soul. “I love you, you big lug! You know that. If it means so much to you, if it’s going to rip you apart, I won’t become a Warrior.”
“You’d give it up for me?” Hickok questioned her.
“Of course.”
The gunman nodded thoughtfully. “Then it’s settled,” he announced.
“You want me to give it up?” Sherry inquired dispiritedly.
“Sure don’t, ma’am,” Hickok answered, grinning. “I reckon I couldn’t live with myself if I forced you to do that. You’re going to become the best damn female Warrior this here Family has ever seen!”
Sherry squealed with delight and hugged him. “I knew you’d come around, you adorable dummy!”
“Just don’t tell anyone else I’m such a softie,” Hickok admonished her.
“It’d ruin my image.”
“You certainly changed your mind pretty fast,” Sherry observed, running her fingers through his yellow hair.
“Not really,” Hickok disagreed. “I was sitting here thinking about my behavior before you showed up. I realized I was being a mite selfish. It’s your life, after all. I may not be too fond of the idea, but if you really want to become a Warrior, then I won’t stand in your way.”
“I appreciate that,” she said sincerely.
“But you’re going to learn from the best,” Hickok went on. “I’ll teach you handguns, Blade will instruct you in knife fighting, Geronimo in tracking, Rikki in the martial arts, and the others in whatever they’re tops at.” He smiled. “By the time we’re through with you, you’ll be a lean, mean, fightin’ machine!”