Madman Run

Chapter Twenty-One

The youths watched the flames lick at the pile of four corpses located on the roof near the north battlement and gazed in silence at the black smoke curling into the bright morning sky.

“It’s fitting the Morlocks are being burned together,” Geronimo commented thoughtfully.

“How do you figure, pard?” Hickok asked.

“Their destinies were intertwined from the start.”

The gunfighter chuckled. “If you say so. But you worry me.”

“I do?”

“Yep. You’re startin’ to sound like the big guy.”

Sighing, Geronimo stared at their somber friend. “Are you all right?”

“Fine.”

“You sure?”

“Drop the subject.”

“What’s with you?” Hickok asked. “You should be happy, not down in the dumps. We won, didn’t we? We took care of these bozos so they’ll never kill another innocent wanderer.”

“Did we win?” Blade inquired softly.

“We’re still alive, ain’t we?”

“And what about the serfs?”

“What about ’em?”

Blade glanced at the doorway, his features profoundly troubled. “What happened to their bodies?”

“Who knows?” Hickok said and shrugged. “There must have been a few off playin’ somewhere when we killed the rest, and while we were up on the roof they came and dragged the dead nymphs off.”

“We weren’t up here long enough for all the bodies to be removed.”

“You don’t know that for certain,.” Hickok said. He stretched and crinkled his nose. “Boy, the Morlocks and that hairy critter aren’t exactly roses, if you get my drift. Let’s skedaddle. I want to get back to the Home.”

They turned and walked to the doorway, two of them deep in contemplation, the third grinning at the fitting conclusion of their adventure. At the doorway all three abruptly halted when they heard the sounds wafting up from far, far below, the sounds of giggling and tittering.