Blade, caught off guard, squirmed uncomfortably. “I don’t know…”
“Be honest,” Rainbow said, goading him.
Blade stared at Plato. “Realistically, I’d have to admit our chances are pretty slim.”
“See?” Rainbow declared triumphantly. “Even if Alpha Triad goes back to the Twin Cities, you’re not guaranteed they’ll find what you’ve sent them after.”
“It is still our wisest recourse,” Plato said, dissenting.
“No, it isn’t,” Rainbow disagreed. “There is a hospital in Kalispell, and it may well have the items you’ve been looking for.”
“Why should the hospital in Kalispell be in any better condition then the ones in the Twin Cities?” Plato asked.
Rainbow grinned, sensing she was winning her argument. “Because, unlike the Twin Cities, after the Government evacuated all the towns and cities at the beginning of World War Three, there weren’t any gangs left in Kalispell to tear the place apart. I visited it several times in my youth, and it was essentially deserted, except for occasional drifters and scavengers. I can vouch for the fact that, when I left Kalispell, the hospital was still standing and its contents were still intact. I’ve seen the inside of the hospital. There’s a lot of abandoned equipment all over the place—covered with dust and dirt, but still there. It just may be what you’re looking for.”
“What about the battle?” Plato inquired.
“The army from the Cheyenne Citadel has Kalispell surrounded,” Rainbow elaborated. “They prevent my people from leaving, but they haven’t attacked yet. At least, they hadn’t before I was forced to leave. They’re just sitting there, apparently trying to starve us out, watching and waiting.”
Blade abruptly sat up, all attention. “Watching?”
“Yes.” Rainbow seemed puzzled by his reaction.
Blade glanced at Plato and knew the Leader was thinking similar thoughts. “Have you ever heard of the Watchers?” Blade asked Rainbow.
She shook her head. “Why?”
“We had a run-in with a military organization in Thief River Falls,” Blade expounded. “The people in the Twin Cities call this organization the Watchers. I wonder if they’re related…”
“…to the ones trying to wipe out my people?” Rainbow said, finishing for him. “Could be.”
“And you maintain the hospital in Kalispell and the equipment inside it are undamaged?” Plato asked her.
“They were when I left,” Rainbow replied.
“Hmmmmmmm.” Plato leaned back in his chair and pulled at the hairs in his gray beard with his left hand. “Would you be so kind as to step outside? We must discuss your proposition in private.”
And here I am, Blade ruminated, on my way to Kalispell, Montana. His dearest Jenny was hundreds of miles behind him. All because Plato and the Elders decided a mission to Kalispell might be worth it, after all.
Something must be done about the creeping senility, and the sooner, the better. Family records revealed that each generation of Family members was evincing evidence of a particularly debilitating form of senility at an earlier and earlier age. If the cause and a cure weren’t discovered, the prospects for the Family’s future were exceedingly grim.
Blade gazed at Geronimo, sitting in the bucket seat on the passenger side, intently scanning a map. “How many miles do we have left to travel?” he inquired.
Geronimo, attired in a green shirt and pants sewn together from the pieces of an old tent, glanced up, frowning. “That’s what I’m trying to figure out,” he explained. His stocky body was hunched over the road map, his left hand absently scratching the short black hair above his left ear, his brown eyes reflecting his deep concentration. “It’s not as easy as it was when we went from the Home to the Twin Cities.”
“How so?” Blade questioned him.
“It was simple to compute the total distance from our Home, in northwestern Minnesota, to the Twin Cities, in southeastern Minnesota,” Geronimo elaborated, “because they’re both in the same state. It was a snap to add the mileage listed on this map and determine there were three hundred and seventy-one miles between the Home and the Twins. But this time…” He left the thought unfinished as he studied the map again.
“It’s a good thing Hickok isn’t here,” Blade noted. “He might offer to take off his moccasins so you would have more to count with.”
Geronimo grinned and looked at Blade. “I miss him,” he admitted.
“So do I,” Blade acknowledged.
“I’m surprised Plato let us come on this trip without Hickock,” Geronimo commented.
“Plato wasn’t kidding when he said it was urgent,” Blade remarked.
“Anyway,” Geronimo said, “I think I have the mileage calculated.”
“Let me hear it,” Blade responded.
“Well,” Geronimo said, glancing at the map, “bear in mind we’re traveling across several states this time, so I may be a little off. We’ve already left Minnesota behind, we’re in North Dakota now, and the next state we’ll hit is Montana. We took Highway 11 to Highway 59, cut across to U.S. Highway 2, and, according to this map, we can follow Highway 2 all the way to Kalispell. Amazing.”
“And the mileage?” Blade reminded him.
“The total is somewhere in the range of eleven hundred miles,” Geronimo replied.
“We knew that before we left the Home,” Blade noted. “What I need to know now, Einstein, is how far have we come, and how far do we have to go?”
Geronimo smiled. “We passed through what was left of Minot this morning,” he replied. “According to my calculations, we’ve traveled about four hundred and seventy miles, and we have something like six hundred and sixty to go, give or take a few.”
“Give or take a few,” Blade repeated, sighing.
“At our average speed, about fifty miles an hour,” Geronimo stated, “it’s taken us a day and a half to come this far. If we continue driving seven or eight hours a day,” Geronimo detailed, “well reach the vicinity of Kalispell in three days. Maybe even sooner, if I’ve overestimated the distance remaining.”
“So soon?” Rainbow spoke up from the back seat. “Four or five days? Do you know how long it took me to reach your Home from Kalispell with those men after me?”
“How long?” Blade inquired.
“Over two months!” she answered. “Of course, I had to watch out for wild animals and the blistered ones…”
“The blistered ones?” Blade reiterated.
“The creatures you call mutates,” Rainbow elucidated.
Blade involuntarily shuddered. The damn mutates! He hated them with a passion! One of them was responsible for slaying his father, the Family Leader prior to Plato. The origin of the mutates was unknown, most Family members speculating they were the result of the radiation and the chemical weapons unleashed on the environment during the Big Blast.
Mutates were once normal animals, altered through a mysterious process to become monstrous caricatures of their former selves. Their hair dropped off, their skin turned brownish and dry, cracked and covered with blistering sores, oozing all over their bodies. Each mutate was endowed with a voracious appetite and undiluted ferocity. Mutates attacked and devoured any living thing they encountered, including one another. Even just a single mutate bite could prove fatal, if any of the yellow pus entered the bloodstream.
“I’ve got a few questions I’d like to ask,” Blade said to Rainbow, eager to change the subject.
“Go ahead,” she said.
Blade glanced in the mirror, observing Star asleep in her mother’s lap.