Dr. Edmonds moved closer to the Warrior. “If you don’t mind,” he stated, “and if you promise to let me live, I’d like to examine your stitches and apply dressing and bandages.”
Blade laughed. “Be my guest,” he said. “And I apologize for what I did to you.”
“I’ll have some food brought,” General Reese mentioned. “If you feel up to it, tomorrow I’d like you to address our people at Mile High Stadium.”
“You want me to speak to your citizens?” Blade responded.
“We have already announced Samuel’s death,” General Reese revealed.
“You have become something of a hero to the populace. They would be thrilled to hear from you personally.”
“I don’t know,” Blade equivocated.
There was an abrupt commotion outside of the bedroom. A figure dressed all in blue darted into the chamber, his Wilkinson in his left hand, his normally controlled features registering his severe anxiety. It was Yama. “Blade!” he called, and dashed to the bed.
“What is it?” Blade asked apprehensively.
Yama was short of breath. “Geronimo… Geronimo is at the camp,” he announced. “He reports the Home is under attack.”
“By whom?” Blade inquired, quickly sliding from the bed.
“Geronimo says two thousand troops from the Civilized Zone were about twelve miles from the compound when he stole a jeep and came to warn us,” Yama replied.
Blade glared at General Reese.
The general’s surprise was self-evident. “I didn’t know!” he assured the Warrior. “Believe me! I didn’t know! I knew some of our troops were missing, but Samuel wouldn’t say where they were.”
“I believe you,” Blade stated.
“I’ll do anything I can to help,” General Reese proposed.
“I’ll need to borrow a set of fatigues,” Blade said. “My address to your people will have to wait. We’re leaving immediately.” He contemplated a moment. “I could use gasoline for my convoy.”
“It’s yours,” General Reese pledged.
“Then let’s get this show on the road!”
Chapter Twenty-Three
The Freedom Federation Army halted at the edge of the woods on the west side of the Home.
“We’re too late!” Geronimo exclaimed in an agonized tone. “I didn’t reach you in time!” He pounded the steering wheel in frustration.
The drawbridge and a sizeable portion of the west wall were missing.
Heaps of rubble lined the outer base of the wall.
“Where are all the bodies?” Blade asked. “There should be bodies.”
Geronimo was driving the SEAL. Blade, his arms and legs swathed in herbally treated bandages under his fatigues, sat in the passenger-side bucket seat. Rikki, Yama, and Teucer occupied the middle seat, while Lynx had reclaimed his customary post atop the provisions in the rear section.
“For that matter,” Yama said, “where is the Civilized Zone Army?”
“There’s one way to find out,” Blade stated, and nodded at Geronimo.
The SEAL raced toward the compound. Behind it, the other vehicles in the convoy lumbered from the trees and braked in the field, disgorging the Clan and Mole fighters. They hurriedly formed into their designated squads, weapons at the ready.
“Looks like your west wall has been blown all to hell,” Lynx mentioned.
Yama turned in his seat and glared at Lynx.
“Hey, chuckles, don’t blame me!” Lynx said. “I didn’t do it!”
Geronimo brought the SEAL to a stop ten yards from the wall.
Rikki leaned forward, pointing. “Someone has built a bridge over the moat.”
Sure enough, a massive wooden bridge had been erected over the stream.
“Where did they come from?” Blade demanded of no one in particular.
They all knew what he meant. Dozens of military vehicles, troop transports and jeeps, were parked in neat rows along the inner bank of the moat.
Geronimo opened his door, grabbing his FNC Auto Rifle from the console. He leaped to the ground.
The others quickly joined him.
“Be careful,” Blade warned. “It could be a trap.”
“And you’re an expert on traps, right?” Lynx sarcastically remarked.
They reached the bridge and paused.
“Do you hear laughter?” Rikki inquired.
“And singing?” added Teucer.
“It’s coming from the other side of those vehicles,” Blade declared.
Cautiously, the six crossed the bridge and stopped at the edge of the bank.
“Hold it!” someone barked.
They whirled to their left, in the direction of the voice.
Geronimo was the first to recover. He lowered the FNC, chuckling. “I should have known.”
Hickok was leaning against a nearby jeep, his arms casually folded across his chest. “You hombres ain’t goin’ nowhere unless you know the password.”
“Password?” Blade repeated.
“Yep,” Hickok said. “We’ve been havin’ a dickens of a time lately with varmints comin’ in whenever they felt like it. So now nobody gets in unless they know the password.”
Blade’s temper flared. “Password!” He stalked toward Hickok. “I’ll give you a password!”
Hickok straightened and extended his arms, palms outward. “Whoa, big fella! What’s got you all in a tizzy?”
Blade’s face was turning red. “Do you have any idea of what we went through to get here? We thought you were under attack!”
“We were,” Hickok hastily stated. “Where do you think all of these vehicles came from? They don’t sprout from seeds, you know.”
“Then where’s the Civilized Zone Army?” Blade demanded.
Hickok slowly drew his right index finger across his throat.
Blade blanched and stared in the direction of the blocks. “How many did we lose?”
“A bunch,” Hickok replied. “I’ve got a complete list for you.”
“Jenny—” Blade began.
“Jenny’s fine,” Hickok revealed. He looked at Geronimo. “So is your missus, Cynthia. Plato is okay. But we lost four Warriors.”
“Which four?” Blade asked.
Hickok frowned at the recollection. “Seiko—”
Rikki-Tikki-Tavi sadly bowed his head.
“—Carter, Gideon, and Crockett,” Hickok said, finishing the list. “We thought we lost Samson too, but he was found on the southeast bank of the moat. He was shot up a mite, but the Healers say he’ll pull through.
The lug is built like an ox.”
“What happened?” Blade asked, eager for details.
“I’ll give you a rundown,” Hickok promised, “but first you gotta give me the scoop on your mission.”
“Samuel the Second is dead,” Blade detailed. “His generals surrendered to us and agreed to hold elections within three months. The dictatorship is destroyed. Toland, the rebel leader, has been appointed interim leader until the elections are held.”
“They rolled over without a fight?” Hickok queried.
“Not exactly,” Blade replied. “They’re afraid we’ll use a thermo on Denver if they don’t comply. Besides which, I think just about everybody was tired of living under a dictator. They can’t wait to establish a representative form of government again.”
“I just hope they don’t muck it up like they did the last time,” Hickok remarked.
Lynx, silently standing to the rear of the group, chimed in. “There was one fight worth mentioning.”
“Oh?” Hickok noticed Blade averting his eyes.
“Yep,” Lynx continued. “Blade managed to get himself trapped by Sammy. He was on his last legs when we pulled his fat out of the fire.” He paused, grinning. “Blade owes his life to me!” he bragged.
“That true, pard?” Hickok asked.
Blade reluctantly nodded. “Lynx hid in the back of my jeep, and he signaled Rikki, Yama, and Teucer when I needed them the most.”