“Why not Mommy?” Ringo repeated.
“Blade wanted to use one of the jets for several reasons,” Sherry informed him. “First, the VTOLs are much faster than the SEAL, and he wanted to get to Miami and return as quickly as possible. Second, they’d cut down on the number of mutants, wild animals, and whatnot they’d have to face by taking a jet. Third, the VTOLs can land anywhere. They have what’s called a vertical-takeoff-and-landing capability, so they can deposit the Warriors at any spot Blade picks.” She paused. “Blade thought he was doing the right thing. We can’t blame him for what happened.”
“I don’t.”
“Good.”
They strolled in silence for a couple of minutes, engrossed in their private reflection.
Sherry raised her head as the sounds of shouting arose from the western section of the 30-acre Home. While the eastern portion was predominantly maintained in a natural state or devoted to agriculture, and the central area was occupied by a row of log cabins running from north to south, exclusively reserved for married Family members and their children, the western section was the focal area for Family socialization.
Most Family activities transpired in the western sector. The huge concrete blocks, each one exclusively reserved for a specific function, were located there. In the middle of the west wall was the only means of entering the compound, an enormous drawbridge.
“What’s that noise?” Ringo inquired.
“I don’t know,” Sherry said. “I hope it’s not another mutant.” She hurried forward.
“Not so fast. Mommy,” Ringo complained. “I can’t keep up.”
“Sorry.”
Sherry scooped him into her arms and hastened onward, her pulse quickening, hope uplifting her emotions in a tidal wave of expectation.
Despite her normal inclination to dread the worst, deep within the core of her being, sparked by her frequently accurate feminine intuition, was the conviction that Hickok was still alive, out there somewhere. The big dummy might attract trouble like honey attracted bears, but he also was endowed with lightning reflexes and could well be the quickest gunman alive. If anyone was capable of journeying great distances across the mutant-ridden landscape, he was.
Whoops and cries of delight were mingling in the air, muted but alluring.
“Someone is having a party,” Ringo said.
“Maybe,” Sherry responded, increasing her speed. Minutes later she reached a tilled field filled with growing corn, and she headed straight through, wending among the rows of stalks.
“Mommy?”
“What?” Sherry answered absently.
“When I grow up, I want to be a Warrior like daddy and you.”
She looked into his innocent eyes and frowned. “We’ll talk about this when you’re older. A lot older.”
“Can’t I do it?”
“We’ll see.”
“Daddy and you are Warriors.”
“I know.”
“Why can’t I be one?”
“I never said you couldn’t,” Sherry said.
“You don’t want me to do it. I can tell.”
“Being a Warrior is a very dangerous profession. Your life is always on the line. I don’t know if I’d want you to have a job where you might wind up being shot.”
“But you have the same job.”
“I’m your mother.”
“Aww, gee.”
“You’re our only son, our only child,” Sherry noted. “I’m not about to agree to you having any position where your life is at risk.”
Ringo digested this information as they came to another tilled field, this one with a variety of vegetables.
Sherry bore to the left, not wanting to accidentally tread on any of the precious food.
“Mommy?”
“Yeah?”
“If the stork brings me a sister or brother, can I be a Warrior then?”
“A stork? Where did you hear babies are delivered by a stork?”
“From Daddy.”
“Figures,” Sherry muttered. “What did he tell you?”
“Do you remember when the horse had the baby horse?”
“Black Beauty, when she had her foal?” Sherry asked, knowing he was referring to the delivery by one of the horses used by the Tillers.
“Yep.”
“What about it?”
“I asked Daddy where the baby horse came from,” Ringo recounted.
“He said a stork brought it.”
“He did, did he?”
“Yep. And you know what else?”
“I can’t begin to imagine.”
“Daddy said storks bring people babies too. Even deer babies and fox babies.”
“Busy bunch of storks,” Sherry muttered. She estimated they were within a hundred yards of the line of cabins, drawing near to her own.
“And you know what else?”
“No, what?”
“Do you remember the animal books in the library?”
“The books you like so much, the ones with all the pictures?”
“Those books,” Ringo confirmed.
“I asked Daddy where baby elephants came from,” Ringo mentioned.
“And he said a stork.”
“How did you know?”
“Just a lucky guess,” Sherry commented dryly.
“But not little storks.”
“Little storks?”
“Daddy says little storks bring little babies, like baby fish and baby birds. And madi—medu—”
“Medium?”
“Yep. Medium storks bring people babies. But elephant babies come from really big storks with beaks this big,” Ringo detailed, and stretched his hands apart as far as they would go.
“I’m going to have a long talk with your father when he gets back,” Sherry observed.
“Did you ever see a beak that big?”
“Just your daddy’s nose.”
Ringo laughed at the notion. “Daddy’s nose isn’t that big.”
“It will be when I’m through with him,” Sherry vowed. She was disappointed to note the uproar in the western sector had tapered off. A cluster of trees separated them from their cabin, and she bore to the left, following a well-worn trail.
The cabin came within view in seconds.
“Daddy!” Ringo exclaimed, kicking his legs in excitement.
Sherry froze in her tracks, her mouth slack, her green eyes watering.
“Let me down! Let me down!” Ringo yelled.
“Here you go,” Sherry mumbled, lowering him to the ground.
The boy was off like a shot, running toward his father, shouting with delight. “Daddy! Daddy! You’re home!”
“I’m home,” Hickok replied, standing six feet from the open cabin door.
He beamed and knelt, his arms wide, and a moment later Ringo plowed into him and nearly knocked him over. “I’m home, buckaroo.”
Father and son hugged one another, Hickok with his eyes closed, Ringo giggling and saying over and over again, “You’re back! You’re really back.”
“And I’m not leavin’ for a spell,” Hickok stated. “I promise.” He opened his eyes to find Sherry in front of him, her eyes and cheeks moist, and he kissed Ringo and stood. “Howdy, ma’am. Did you miss me?”
“No,” Sherry said, then threw herself into his arms, her face pressed against his neck. “Don’t you ever do this to us again!”
“I didn’t exactly plan it,” Hickok remarked huskily.
Sherry sighed and kissed him tenderly on the neck. “Dear Spirit, how we missed you!”
“You needed someone to help with the dishes, huh?”