Geronimo was next to emerge. He jogged the ten feet separating the transport from the gathered welcomers, and took his wife in a tender embrace.
Rikki saw Sherry staring apprehensively at the SEAL. He glanced at it, suddenly worried, wondering why Hickok hadn’t appeared. He cupped his hands around his mouth. “Hey! Where’s Hickok?”
Geronimo released the raven-haired Cynthia and crossed to the transport. He leaned in the passengerside door. “Wake up! We’re being attacked by mutants!” he yelled, and stepped back.
A sleepy Hickok stumbled from the SEAL, his Pythons in his hands, swinging the revolvers from left to right, seeking the mutants. It took a moment for the reality of the situation to dawn on his fatigued senses.
When the Family began laughing at his stupefied reaction, his face turned a livid scarlet and he glared at Geronimo, bolstering the Colts. “I should of known! You never can trust an Injun!”
Geronimo, chuckling, draped his right arm around Hickok’s shoulders.
“I wish you could have seen your face!”
“I know what I’d like to do to yours!” Hickok groused.
Sherry and Ringo hurried toward the gunman.
“I want you to know,” Geronimo said as she neared them, “we had our chance and we blew it.”
Sherry, too relieved at finding her husband returned and unharmed, paid scant attention to Geronimo. “Oh?” she replied absently.
“Yeah,” Geronimo said as Hickok hugged his family. “We could have left him back on Highway 94, but Blade insisted we had to pick him up.
Personally, I think the walk back might have done him some good. Get rid of that flab…” He stopped, realizing his barbs were being wasted.
Hickok and Sherry were kissing passionately.
Rikki grinned, delighted at the arrival of his three companions. Now Blade could assume command of the Warriors, and things would go back to normal, the way they should be. His eyes happened to alight on Yama.
Not everything would be the way it was.
Rikki thought of Alicia Farrow, and of his own beloved Lexine, and he thanked the Spirit she was safe, ever eager to share her love and laughter with him. He saw the Family milling about Alpha Triad, happy, engaged in lively banter.
All except one. Yama was walking toward the forest, Wilkinson in hand, going hunting.
Rikki sighed. He knew, given time, Yama would recover. Time, so the cliche went, healed all wounds. Which was true. But Time couldn’t erase human memory, couldn’t deliver a person from periodically experiencing pangs of heartfelt grief. What was it that religious book in the library had taught? “The supreme affliction is never to have been afflicted. You only learn wisdom by knowing affliction.” Which must make Yama, temporarily at least, the wisest man in the universe.
Enough!
Rikki dismissed such somber reflections from his mind, and watched a cardinal winging on the wind. Affliction might be inevitable, but life went on. Life invariably went on.
And such was the way it would always be.