Atlanta Run

Chapter Four

“Was that wall there before the war, pard?”

“I don’t remember reading anything about it,” Blade replied.

Rikki cleared his throat. “I don’t like the looks of this.”

“I won’t go down there! I won’t!” Chastity mentioned yet again.

They were approximately 800 yards east of Atlanta, squatting in the cover of waist-high grass on the crest of a sloping mound. Hickok held Chastity on his left knee. The morning sun glistened off of windows and towering structures in the sprawling municipality.

“I had no idea it was so blamed big,” Hickok remarked.

“Almost a million people lived there before the war,” Blade said.

“Atlanta was a major commercial and transportation center.”

“What is it now?” Rikki asked.

“I didn’t know Atlanta had skyscrapers,” Hickok noted, gazing at a cluster of huge buildings in the center.

“We should be more concerned about the wall,” Blade observed.

An enormous brick wall had been constructed around the city, enclosing Atlanta completely. At least 20 feet in height, the wall did not form a distinct geometric shape, but adhered to the contours of the land, skirting hills and other natural obstacles. A section might proceed straight for hundreds of yards, and then the wall would curve outward or inward for 50 to a hundred feet before resuming its direct course.

“I saw a picture of a wall like this once in a history book in the Family library,” Hickok said. “What was it called?” He paused, pondering. “Oh, yeah. The Great Wall of China.”

Blade grinned. “The Great Wall of China is much larger.”

“Which one of us will venture into Atlanta?” Rikki inquired.

Blade gazed at a highway situated 200 yards to the north of their position. Which one indeed? They were all well rested, thanks to his decision to remain in the clearing overnight and catch up on their sleep.

He had changed his mind about traveling when Chastity dozed off immediately after eating her supper. They were also well fed, thanks to the boar meat they’d consumed for their evening meal and for breakfast.

“None of us should mosey on down there,” Hickok declared.

“One of us must go,” Blade said. “I told you that last night.”

“And I still think it’s a mistake,” the gunman asserted. “Let’s take Chastity with us. Who cares who’s in Atlanta?”

“I do,” Blade responded. “And so should you. Chastity told us she has an aunt living in the city. We must try to find her.”

“I won’t go!” Chastity stressed.

“You’ll stay here with Hickok,” Blade instructed her. “I’m going into Atlanta.”

“You’re askin’ for trouble,” Hickok said.

“I agree,” Rikki chimed in. “Why take the risk? Chastity doesn’t want to go back. We should leave well enough alone.”

“No can do,” Blade mentioned. “We have a responsibility to her. We have a duty to try and locate her family.”

“My mommy was my family,” Chastity stated.

“What should we do while you’re waltzin’ around in Atlanta?” Hickok inquired.

Blade looked over his left shoulder at a stand of maple, dogwood, and hickory trees. “Hide in there. Wait for me.”

Hickok sighed. “There’s nothin’ I can say to change your mind?”

“No.”

The gunman stared at the city. “Then I’ll go with you.”

“No.”

“Why not?” Hickok demanded.

“Chastity has taken a liking to you,” Blade said. “She’ll feel better if you stay.”

“Then I’ll go,” Rikki offered.

“Nope.”

“Give me one good reason?” Rikki said.

“We don’t know what the setup is like,” Blade noted. “One stranger might not attract too much attention. You can keep Hickok company.”

“Please don’t go,” Chastity said.

“I’ll be okay,” Blade told her. He squinted at the skyscrapers. “Are weapons allowed in the city, Chastity?”

“Weapons?” she asked uncertainly.

“Yeah. Guns and knifes. Are the people allowed to carry weapons?”

“No,” Chastity said. “No one carries them.”

“What about the police force? Atlanta must have a police force,” Blade remarked.

“The police have clubs,” Chastity answered.

“What kind of clubs?” Blade quizzed her.

“Mommy said the police have clubs called blackjacks.”

“What about the Bubbleheads?” Blade queried. “Are they police?”

“No,” Chastity responded. “The Bubbleheads are…” She stopped, unable to recall the word her mother had frequently used.

“Do the Bubbleheads carry guns?”

“No.”

Blade stroked his chin. “What about clothes?”

Chastity giggled. “Everybody wears clothes.”

Hickok snickered.

“I know they wear clothes,” Blade said. “But do they wear special clothes? Do they all wear outfits like yours?”

She shook her head. “Only Mommy,” she said sadly.

Blade unslung the M-16 and rested the gun on the ground at his feet.

He started to unbuckle his leather belt.

“You’re not going in there unarmed?” Hickok asked in disbelief.

“How dumb do you think I am?” Blade answered, then added hastily, “Don’t answer that!”

“Shucks,” Hickok said.

Blade removed the Bowie sheaths from the belt, placed them next to his left foot, and looped his belt through his pants.

“Do you want to slip one of my Colts under your vest?” Hickok asked.

“No need,” Blade replied. He raised the bottom of his left pants leg, then carefully wedged one of the Bowie sheaths under the top of his combat boot until the sheath and knife were secure.

“Sneaky,” Hickok commented with a chuckle.

Blade repeated the procedure with the other Bowie, jamming the sheath under his right combat boot.

“What if you’re searched?” Rikki brought up.

“I’ll cross that bridge when I come to it,” Blade said, smoothing both of his pants legs down. “You two watch my M-16.”

“Look!” Chastity exclaimed, pointing at the highway.

Blade swiveled, surprised to see four figures moving toward Atlanta.

Traffic on the highway, vehicular or otherwise, was sparse. He’d observed two cars and one man afoot during the hour they’d spent watching the metropolis. The lone traveler had been an elderly man dressed in tattered clothing. These four were quite different. Their garments were a unique, shimmering silver, composed of a fabric that reflected the brilliant sunshine and cast the four figures in an unearthly radiance.

“The Bubbleheads!” Chastity cried, recoiling in Hickok’s arms.

“Those are the Bubbleheads?” Blade remarked, peering at the dazzling forms intently. Even their heads and hands shone, and there appeared to be objects on their backs.

Hickok hugged Chastity. “They can’t see us,” he said, trying to comfort her. “You’re safe.”

She buried her face in his chest. “They burned my mom.”

“They won’t burn you.”

Chastity’s narrow shoulders moved up and down.

Hickok looked at Blade, then at the Bubbleheads. “Those rotten coyotes.”

“Are they humans or mutants?” Rikki inquired of no one in particular.

“I’ll let you know,” Blade said, and slipped away through the grass, heading for the highway.

Hickok kept his worried eyes on his friend until the giant was lost to view in the undergrowth. He frowned, hearing Chastity sniffle, and glanced at Rikki. “This stinks.”

“Blade will be back,” the martial artist responded.

Chastity unexpectedly straightened and swung her head around. Tears streaked her cheeks. “Where’s Blade?”

“On his way into Atlanta,” Hickok informed her.

“Don’t let him!” she stated in alarm.

“There’s nothing we can do about it,” Hickok said.

“Please! The Bubbleheads will get him!”

Hickok gazed into her earnest eyes, impressed by the terror her features conveyed. “There’s nothing Rikki and I can do,” he reiterated. “Blade is the head Warrior. We’re flunkies. Whatever he says, goes.”

“Flunkies?”

“Blade is our boss,” Hickok clarified. “He gives us orders, and it’s our job to follow them.”

“He tells you what to do?” Chastity said. “Like my mommy always told me?”

The gunfighter smiled. “Something like that. You see, at the place we come from, called the Home, there are eighteen Warriors who protect everybody else. Blade is in charge of all the Warriors. We work under him.”

Chastity wiped her eyes with the back of her right hand. “I’m sorry.”

“For what?”

“For crying.”

“There’s no need to apologize,” Hickok said.

“But Mommy said I should keep quiet ’cause of the Bubbleheads,” Chastity explained.

“The Bubbleheads are too far off to hear us,” Hickok told her.

Chastity relaxed and stared at Atlanta. “Where is the place you live?”

“A long way from here,” Hickok replied.

“Is it nice?”

“I think so. The folks livin’ at the Home are decent people.”

“Do they hurt each other?” Chastity asked, looking at him.

“Now and then,” Hickok admitted. “But for the most part, they treat each other kindly.”

“We try to live by the Golden Rule,” Rikki interjected.

“What rule?” Chastity wanted to learn.

“We do to others as we would have them do to us,” Rikki detailed. “We try to live Spirit-led lives.”

“What’s that?”

“Did your mother instruct you in the ways of the Spirit?” Rikki asked.

“Do you mean God?”

Rikki nodded.

“Oh, sure. Mom told me all about God. She whispered.”

Rikki’s forehead furrowed in perplexity. “Why did she whisper?”

“Cause you’re not allowed to talk about God,” Chastity said.

“It’s illegal to talk about God?” Rikki inquired in amazement.

“Yes,” Chastity confirmed. “But Mommy told me about God anyway.

God lives in a big house in the sky, and he loves everyone, and he likes harp music.”

Rikki smiled. “Your mother must have been very religious.”

“She loved God,” Chastity said, the corners of her mouth drooping. She sniffed loudly.

Hickok glared at the martial artist and silently mouthed the word

“Idiot!” Then he quickly changed the subject. “Do you know I have a little guy about your age?”

“You do?”

“Yep. His name is Ringo, and he’s a chip off the old block.”

“Ringo?” Chastity said, and laughed. “Another funny name!”

“Our names are funny?” Hickok responded.

Chastity nodded. “I never heard your names before. Hickok. Ringo. And Ricky-Tickle-Taffy.”

Hickok had to cover his mouth with his left hand to suppress his mirth.

“It’s Rikki-Tikki-Tavi,” the martial artist told her.

“It’s still funny,” Chastity said. “Where did you get it?”

“I selected my name.”

“Your mommy and daddy didn’t give you your name?” Chastity inquired, astonished.

“They gave me a name at birth,” Rikki answered.

“What was it?”

“Brandon.”

“Then why isn’t your name Brandon?”

“I’ll try and explain,” Rikki said patiently. “At our Home, when we turn sixteen, we are allowed to pick a new name for our very own. Any name we want.”

“Why?”

“The man who founded our Home started the practice,” Rikki replied.

“He wanted his followers to never forget about the war, about the reasons the human race almost destroyed itself. He believed history was very important. So he asked all of his followers to go through the history books and pick any name they wanted as their very own on their sixteenth birthday.” He paused. “Now we select our names from any source. We call this ceremony our Naming. I picked the name of a mongoose.”

“What’s a mongoose?”

“Do you know what a ferret is?”

“No.”

“Well, a mongoose and a ferret are a lot alike. They’re about the size of a cat.”

“What’s a cat?”

“You’ve never seen a cat?”

“Nope.”

Rikki looked at Hickok.

“Don’t they have cats in Atlanta?” the gunman inquired.

“Nope.”

“What about dogs?” Hickok asked.

“Nope.”

“Are there any animals in Atlanta?”

Chastity shook her head.

“No one has a pet?” Hickok questioned skeptically.

“No,” Chastity answered. “The Bubbleheads get you if you have an animal.”

Hickok gazed at the city thoughtfully. “The Big Guy shouldn’t be down there by his lonesome.”

“The Bubbleheads will get him,” Chastity said.

“He won’t be caught,” Hickok stated.

“He will,” Chastity insisted. “They’ll know he isn’t a Citizen.”

Hickok locked his eyes on hers. “What are you talkin’ about?”

“His clothes.”

The gunman gripped her shoulders. “What about his clothes? You said the people don’t wear special clothes, that they don’t wear outfits like yours.”

“Not blue ones.”

Hickok grit his teeth as he glanced at the metropolis.

“Blue was the only color we could wear,” Chastity went on. “Blue was the color for our class, Mom said.”

“And the other folks?”

“Everyone wears different colors.”

“But are the clothes all styled like yours?” Rikki interrupted.

“They’re all pretty much the same,” Chastity verified.

“Blast!” Hickok declared, pounding the ground in frustration.

Chastity, startled, cringed. “Did I say something wrong?”

“No, little lady,” Hickok told her, and looked at Rikki. “Do you want to flip for it?”

For an answer, Rikki-Tikki-Tavi rose and raced toward the highway.