“Shoot, pard,” Hickok prompted him.
“How is the SEAL going to get from here,” Geronimo asked, pointing at the clearing they were in, “to there?” He pointed in the general direction of Fox.
“You can drive, if you want.”
“Me?” Geronimo laughed. “I wouldn’t touch this thing with a ten-foot pole.”
“Well.” Hickok hitched at his belt. “I reckon that leaves me.”
Geronimo groaned.
“What’s wrong?” Joan asked.
“I forgot. You weren’t there when Hickok drove the SEAL.” Geronimo sadly shook his head, his dark hair waving. “You had to see it to believe it.”
“I don’t get it,” Joan said, perplexed. “Hickok told me last night he’s driven the SEAL. How did he describe it…” She paused, remembering the words. “Poetry in action.”
Geronimo almost fell, he laughed so hard.
“So maybe I exaggerated a mite,” Hickok grudgingly admitted.
“A mite!” Geronimo snickered. “If lies were horse manure, you’d be a mountain of it!”
“Did you lie to me?” Joan faced Hickok.
“I kind of stretched the truth a bit,” Hickok conceded, uncomfortable under her probing eyes.
Geronimo was trying to compose himself. “Well… I… I… guess I’ll go along, if only to pick up the pieces.”
“Pieces?” Tyson repeated.
“Okay.” Hickok motioned toward the transport. “Let’s mosey along! We haven’t got all day.”
Clyde, Cindy, and Tyson walked to the SEAL.
“What did he mean by pieces?” Tyson asked Hickok.
“Ignore the varmint,” Hickok replied, making a show of glaring at Geronimo. “Didn’t you know all Injuns love to make fun of white folk?”
“You better believe it!” Geronimo agreed, still laughing. “Us red folk appreciate what natural comedians you white folk are!”
Chapter Twenty-Two
He found them standing near the moat, south of the drawbridge. “Plato, Rikki,” he greeted them. “Why the gloomy faces?”
“We were discussing the Alpha Triad, Joshua,” Plato answered.
“The Spirit will preserve them,” Joshua declared.
“We hope so anyway,” Rikki amended.
“I still think I should be with them,” Joshua said to Plato.
“What would you do if you were with them?” Rikki asked.
“I’d want an opportunity to converse with the Trolls, to prevail upon them to release the women, to relate the essential spiritual relationship of all creatures.”
“You really think Trolls are capable of appreciating the higher realities of life?” Plato quizzed Joshua.
“All creatures respond to love,” Joshua stated positively.
“Only sincere, caring people can reciprocate genuine affection,” Plato said, disputing Joshua’s contention.
“So you believe all creatures respond to love?” Rikki queried Joshua.
“I do,” Joshua confirmed.
“Then,” Rikki winked at Plato, “the next time you come across a mutate, run up to it and give it a big hug. Let me know how it responds.”
“Trolls aren’t mutates,” Joshua argued. “They’re persons, like us.”
“Not like us.” Rikki shook his head. “I happen to think we smell a lot better than your average Troll. Did you get a whiff of the one we caught?”
“I’m shocked by your attitude,” Joshua said, frowning. “Are all Warriors so callous?”
“I can’t speak for the others,” Rikki replied, “only myself. I believe in the reality of the Spirit, Joshua. I believe in love. But I’m a Warrior, and I’m conditioned to confront the dangers of our everyday existence, to protect our Family and this Home. I can’t go into a fight worrying about possibly killing a brother or a sister, a fellow cosmic child of the Creator. It’s either them or me, and I can guarantee you, if I have anything to say about it, it won’t be me!”
“I’m thankful I’m not a Warrior,” Joshua said quietly. “I am repulsed by violence.”
“The Elders are wise,” Plato interjected. “We would not permit you to become a Warrior. It is diametrically opposed to your very nature. You are an excellent Empath. Be happy with that.”
“I think I will make myself useful,” Joshua stated, turning. “I will pray for the Alpha Triad, for their success and safe return.”
Plato sighed, watching the flowing water. “They’ll need his prayers. They’ll need all the help they can get.”
Chapter Twenty-Three
“There it is!” Clyde exclaimed.
Fox was up ahead, several of the weather-battered buildings visible through the trees.
Hickok was driving, Geronimo in the other bucket seat, and Joan sat on the console between them. Clyde, Cindy, and Tyson were in the back seat.
“What’s the plan?” Joan asked Hickok.
The gunman braked the transport and glanced at Geronimo. “Do you have any suggestions?”
Geronimo shook his head.
“What? Why not?”
“I’m still trying to recover from the shock of getting here alive!”
“Will you be serious?” Hickok requested.
“This was your idea,” Geronimo stated. “I thought you had it all worked out.”
“Not quite,” Hickok acknowledged.
“How much did you work out?” Joan inquired.
“Getting here.”
“That’s it? The extent of your big plan?” Joan looked at Geronimo. “I’m beginning to see what you mean.”
“I’ve been here before,” Clyde spoke up. “I might be of help.”
Hickok twisted in his seat. “What’s the layout like, old-timer? Do they have patrols and guards?”
“They have guards,” Clyde recalled. “Posted at the gates.”
“What gates?” Hickok questioned.
“Well, it’s like this.” Clyde leaned forward and gestured with his hands as he spoke. “This road cuts through the town, sort of divides it. The Trolls, though, only use the northern part. They’ve fenced it in and put gates in the middle of each side. We’ve seen guards at the gates, but never saw a patrol, just hunting parties and raiding parties. You can’t see it, but on the other side of these trees is a big field. It’s on the west edge of the town. To the north of Fox is more deep forest, and to the east some hills.
That’s about it.”
Hickok pondered the information.
“What now, mighty mind?” Geronimo asked.
“I don’t like the looks of the highway ahead.” Hickok evaluated the terrain. “Some of those buildings are awful close to the road. The Trolls would be on us before we saw them coming.” He turned and surveyed the trees to their left. “Clyde, do you think we could get the SEAL through those trees to that field you mentioned?”
“Might be a close fit in places,” Clyde answered. “But you should be able to make it.”
“Good.” Hickok slowly accelerated, easing the vehicle off the highway and into the woods, avoiding the tree trunks. Limbs scraped against the SEAL’S body as the transport brushed by.
“I take it you now have a plan?” Joan queried Hickok.
“Yep.”
“And it will work?” Geronimo quipped.
“Piece of cake,” Hickok stated. “We drive out in the center of the field and wait for the Trolls to see us.”
Everyone watched Hickok, waiting for additional details. Finally, Joan broke the silence.
“That’s it?” she asked, incredulous. “That’s your plan?”
“Isn’t it a stroke of genius?” Hickok nodded, grinning.
“You know,” Tyson said to no one in particular, “I’m beginning to see why the one with the dark hair, Blade, is in charge of you guys.”
“You’re lucky,” Hickok warned Tyson, “I’ve got my hands on this steering wheel.”