The Kalispell Run

Chapter Twelve

In the middle of the afternoon, with the sun high overhead, she finally found him standing on the bank of the moat, all alone, in the southwestern corner of the Home. His long brown hair, the same shade as his eyes, was blowing in a stiff breeze. Although, at sixteen, he was two years her junior, since the death of their father he had adopted a paternal attitude toward her, an unexpected protectiveness and intense loyalty. She suspected the realization they were the last members of their family left alive had something to do with the change in his behavior.

“Hi, Tyson,” Cindy greeted him. “What are you doing?

Tyson, startled, glanced around until he saw her approaching from his rear. “Oh. Hi, Cindy. I didn’t hear you,” he said.

“I asked what you’re doing out here,” she repeated.

Tyson stared into her deep blue eyes. “Just thinking.”

“About what?” Cindy leaned against a tree and watched his face as he spoke, striving to detect signs of possible stress.

“About us,” Tyson responded.

“What about us?”

Tyson faced her, placing his hands into the pockets of his camouflage pants. The pants and the matching shirt he wore were gifts from Nadine, Plato’s wife. Both garments were worn and faded, but after Nadine had hemmed them and patched the holes and rips, repaired the frayed sections and completely cleaned them, they were almost as good as new and the best clothes Tyson had ever owned. He frowned as he gazed at the moat. “Are you happy here, Sis?”

“Of course I am,” Cindy affirmed. “What kind of dumb question is that to ask?”

“Are you sure?” Tyson pressed her. “I mean, is there anything about this place you don’t like? Would you like to leave the Home?”

“Leave the Home?” Cindy straightened, shocked by the query. “Be serious!”

“I am,” Tyson emphasized.

“Why would I want to leave the Home?” Cindy demanded. “The safest, happiest place we’ve ever been! Of course I want to stay right here, dummy!”

“Even with all the things that’ve happened to you?” Tyson inquired, his expression somber.

“What’s happened to me?” Cindy countered, perplexed by his conduct.

“You tell me.”

“What is that supposed to mean?” Cindy could tell something was really bothering him, eating at her brother’s insides. But what?

“Has anyone been bothering you?” Tyson asked, confronting her.

“Bothering me? In the Home?” Cindy shook her head. “Of course not.”

“These people aren’t the angels they like you to think they are,” Tyson said bitterly.

“The Family members are the nicest people we’ve ever run into, Ty,” Cindy said, disagreeing. “How can you make such a claim?”

“And you’re sure no one has been bothering you?” Tyson asked.

“No.” Cindy laughed, finding the suggestion ludicrous. The Family members were moral to a fault, and most of their energy was devoted to loving their Maker and one another as perfectly as possible. “Who would bother me?”

Tyson sighed and crouched, absently plucking blades of grass and tossing them aside.

“Answer me,” Cindy ordered him. “Who would bother me?”

“Drop it,” Tyson said. “I didn’t think you’d tell me.”

“Tell you what?” Exasperated, Cindy moved away from the tree and positioned herself directly in front of her brother, forcing his eyes to meet hers. “Tyson, I want you to tell me what’s bothering you.”

“Why should I?” Tyson snapped. “You won’t tell me who’s bothering you.”

“No one is bothering me!” Cindy exploded.

“He said you wouldn’t tell me,” Tyson muttered.

“Who said…” Cindy began, then stopped, insight dawning. “Was it Napoleon? Did he tell you something about me?”

“Napoleon is our friend,” Tyson stated.

“Tyson…” Cindy crouched and gently took his rough hands in hers. “I want you to listen closely to what I’m about to say. We are brother and sister, the last of our family. You know I love you and would never lie to you, don’t you?”

“Yeah,” Tyson grudgingly admitted. “I guess so.”

“Then believe me when I tell you Napoleon isn’t our friend.”

Tyson went to protest, but Cindy quickly placed her left hand over his mouth.

“Don’t interrupt!” she directed. “Just listen. I overheard Napoleon plotting a rebellion. He mentioned your name. How do you fit into his scheme?”

“What do you mean, a rebellion?” Tyson asked after she removed her hand.

“Napoleon is planning to kill Plato and Rikki-Tikki-Tavi and take over the Family,” Cindy explained.

Tyson grinned. “You must have misunderstood. The only one Napoleon wants to kill is Rikki, that bastard.”

“What?”

Tyson’s face clouded with anger. “Napoleon told me how Rikki has been bothering you! Why wouldn’t you confide in me? I can help you, you know. I won’t let the son of a bitch get his hands on you!”

“Ty, Rikki hasn’t…”

“Napoleon told me all about it,” Tyson said, cutting her off. “About how Rikki wants you to go to bed with him, how he’s been pressuring you to give in or he’d kill me. Well, just let the prick try!”

Comprehension flooded her mind, and Cindy gripped him by the shoulders. “Ty, calm down. Listen. Napoleon lied to you…”

“But…”

“He… lied to you,” she reiterated, her voice rising. “He is using you to get at Rikki. I give you my word, Rikki-Tikki-Tavi is not trying to force me to have sex with him. He would never do a thing like that. And besides, don’t you think I’d come to you if I really was in trouble? I’d tell you about it, and we would probably go to Blade or Hickok and let them know.

They’re our friends. What do you think Hickok would do to anyone trying to do what you said Rikki is supposed to be doing?”

“Put a bullet in his head,” Tyson answered thoughtfully.

“Right. So there’s no reason why I wouldn’t confide in you, is there? Not when we both know we could count on Blade and Hickok to help us. Do you agree?”

“Yeah…” Tyson concurred, her logic making an impression.

“So when Napoleon claimed I wouldn’t tell you,” Cindy said, her features reflecting her affection, “why the hell did you believe him, Ty?”

Tyson seemed confused. He vigorously shook his head and held his hands out, palms up. “I… I don’t know, Sis. It made me so mad when Napoleon told me, I wanted to kill Rikki. I wasn’t thinking. Napoleon said you wouldn’t tell me because you were afraid I’d do something rash and Rikki would kill me. I don’t know Rikki that well. For all I knew, it could have been true.”

“I bet Napoleon had a way you could do something about it,” Cindy surmised.

“As a matter of fact,” Tyson stated slowly, “he did.”

“What was his plan?”

Tyson’s anger was building again, only this time at the realization Napoleon duped him. “Napoleon said he knew this spot Rikki goes to sometimes to be alone. He said we should confront Rikki, and he offered to give me a gun for protection.”

Cindy’s mind raced as she tried to deduct Napoleon’s true motive. “I’ll bet Napoleon planned to shoot Rikki and lay the blame on you. He’d probably kill you too. He wouldn’t want any witnesses.”

Tyson rose, his eyes blazing. “That prick!” He looked at Cindy. “What do we do now, Sis?”

“One thing’s for sure,” Cindy said as she stood. “We can’t afford to wait until Blade and Hickok come back. Napoleon is too dangerous. There’s no telling what he may do.”

“But how can we stop him?” Tyson asked.

“We can’t,” Cindy declared. “But I know someone who can.”

“Who?”

“Rikki-Tikki-Tavi.”