“She’ll tell us once she wakes up,” Hickok said. “I hope so.”
Geronimo leaned back in his chair. “I keep wondering where they got all of that stuff.” He stared at the pile of personal possessions he had collected from the dead men, heaped on top of the bar counter. “Knives, coins, keys, a compass, and all the rest. None of which show the slightest indication of age. Who were those guys?”
“That reminds me.” Blade leaned forward. “Where are those guys? I never thanked you for disposing of the bodies. Did you bury them?”
“In a manner of speaking. I found a hole in the middle of the road, about two blocks from here. A heavy metal cover was lying to one side of the hole. Don’t know where it led, but I dumped the bodies down it.”
“A hole?” Blade repeated, mystified. “Freshly dug?”
“Nothing like that,” Geronimo stated. “Made from concrete, I think.
Some type of access tunnel under the street.”
“Tunnels under the streets?” Hickok said, alarmed. “Why would they have tunnels under the streets? Could these tunnels be inhabited?”
“Doubt it.” Geronimo shook his head. “I didn’t detect any signs of life.”
“We’ll investigate one of these tunnels if we get the opportunity,” Blade commented. “Let’s get back to these Watchers. One of them mentioned they were following the orders of someone called Sammy. Remember?”
“Yep,” Hickok affirmed. “Why?”
“Look at these.” Blade reached into his pocket, withdrew three coins, and dropped them on the table.
“Where’d you get these?” Geronimo asked. “One from the guy on the motorcycle, the other two from these men.”
Hickok was studying the coins. “They’re all the same!”
“Look at the inscriptions,” Blade suggested.
“They each have the likeness of a bearded man wearing a funny hat on one side,” Hickok said, flipping the coins over. “On the other side they have a large one or a five or a ten.”
“What does it say about the numbers?” Blade asked.
“In the Name of Samuel.”
Hickok read aloud. “Say! Hold the fort! Isn’t Sammy short for Samuel?”
“It is,” Blade confirmed.
“You think there’s a connection?” Geronimo inquired.
“It would seem to be the obvious conclusion.”
Hickok scratched his forehead. “So who’s this Samuel?”
“Wish I knew.” Blade reached into his other pants pocket. “There’s more. While Geronimo was getting rid of the Watchers and you were helping Joshua minister to the girl, I remembered the piece of paper we removed from the cyclist. See what you make of it.” He gave the slip of paper to Geronimo.
Geronimo inspected the paper. “A handwritten map. A dot in the lower right corner, marked with a TRF. A line running from the dot and joining another line. Where they meet, there’s a K written in. The second line runs at right angles to the first. Part way along it, just above, is a large circle.
What do you think it all means?”
“Place the paper on the table,” Blade directed, “with the dot facing south and the large circle toward the north.”
Geronimo did as instructed. Hickok leaned over to get a better view.
“Good. Now what if that dot in the lower right, with the TRF next to it, stands for Thief River Falls?” Blade reached over and ran his finger along the lines. “What if this first line is Highway 59? See this letter K, where the lines meet? Wasn’t it at Karlstad we found the junction of Highway 59
and 11? If I’m right, wouldn’t this second line stand for Highway 11? And if it is, what does that make the large circle?”
“The Home,” Hickok whistled. “I’m impressed.”
“I’m worried,” Blade confided.
“Think that guy on the cycle was deliberately keeping an eye on the Home?” Geronimo asked.
“It looks that way,” Blade admitted. “I suspect he was linked up, somehow, with the men here. The one called Joe showed a peculiar reaction when Joshua mentioned the motorcyclist.”
“Then the motorcyclist,” Hickok deduced, “was one of these guys. One of the Watchers.”
“Watching us,” Blade agreed.
“So what’s our next move?” Geronimo questioned. “Keep going to the Twin Cities or return to the Home?”
Blade leaned his chin on his right hand, his elbow on the table. “I’ve given the matter serious consideration today. These Watchers, so far, have not done anything that would lead me to believe an attack on the Home was imminent. They do exactly what their name implies. Watch. On the other hand, Plato made it perfectly clear the Family requires additional supplies. I say we continue on to the Twin Cities and stock up, then get back to the Family.”
“What about the things we’ve confiscated here?” Geronimo asked.
Blade sat back. “We’ll stash the weapons and the food and clothes in one of the other buildings, one that’s deserted and has been for a long time. If more of these Watchers come here while we’re in the Twin Cities, I doubt they would find the cache. We’ll pick it up on our way back to the Home.”
“What about that generator I found in the basement?” Hickok inquired. “And that music machine behind the bar counter?”
“I believe they were called stereos,” Blade stated. “We’ll dismantle the stereo from the bar, and carry the generator up from downstairs. We can hide them with the weapons and food. Plato had a generator on his list of supplies to obtain. This way, we won’t need to pick one up in the Twin Cities. We can bring one back, though, if we find one. Two generators would be ever better for the Family. Any objections or other points to raise?”
“I think you’ve pretty well covered everything, pard,” Hickok said.
“What about the girl?” Geronimo asked.
“She’s awake,” said a voice from the stairs.
They turned.
Joshua was standing on the third stair, his hands on the railing.
“Josh, I didn’t know you could move so quietly,” Hickok said, complimenting him. “We didn’t even hear you. Have you been taking sneaky lessons from this red savage?” He nodded toward Geronimo.
“Despite what you might think, Brother Hickok,” Joshua said, “there are a few things I do very well.”
“You said the girl is awake?” Blade demanded.
“Yes. She has an amazingly strong constitution. She’s apparently been beaten and tortured and sexually abused, but she hasn’t complained.”
Joshua paused, frowning. “She may be suffering delusions, though.”
“Why do you say that?” Blade rose from the chair.
“She keeps insisting on seeing someone called White Meat. I repeatedly told her there is no White Meat here.”
Hickok stood, grinning. “Well, well, well. Yes, Josh, there is a White Meat here.”
“You?”
“None other. I better go up and see her.” Hickok started for the stairs.
“Do you need any help?” Geronimo smirked.
Hickok bounded up the stairs, ignoring the barb.
“We’ll go up too,” Blade said to Joshua. “I have some questions that girl is going to answer. Geronimo, stay down here and keep an eye open. Never know when more of the Watchers may turn up.”
“Got it.” Geronimo picked up his Browning and walked to the front door.
Blade led the way up the stairs, Joshua following, to the room the woman was in. Joshua carried his medicine bag in his left hand, the buckskin bag containing the medical supplies, the ointments and herbs and other organic remedies and aids prepared by the Family Healers.
The woman was laughing when they entered the room.
“Hey, honky,” she said to Blade as he came in, “this bozo is something else! Know what I mean?”
“Now if we could just figure out what,” Blade said, joking with her.