Twin Cities Run

Chapter Six

It was the second day after their departure from the Home.

Blade was at the wheel, squinting from the glare of the afternoon sun, bright despite the tinted windshield. He kept the SEAL at a near steady rate of fifty miles an hour, carefully avoiding the many ruts and holes and cracks in the roadway. They were on Highway 59, cruising south. Fields and forest bordered the road.

“I’m glad we didn’t stop for lunch,” Hickok commented. “I can hardly wait to reach the Twin Cities.”

Hickok, Bertha, and Joshua were sitting in the back seat. Their jerky, water, provisions, and ammunition were piled in the rear of the SEAL.

Geronimo was sitting in the bucket seat across from Blade, studying their map.

“How much longer until we reach the Twin Cities?” Blade asked.

“Well, let’s see.” Geronimo ran his finger down the map, calculating their distance traveled and ascertaining the miles until the next town.

“We’ve already passed Plummer and Brooks and Winger. A place called Bejou should be just ahead about a mile or so.”

“I wonder if they will be as deserted as the others,” Joshua speculated.

“Kind of funny we haven’t seen any more Watchers,” Hickok noted.

“That’s not so unusual,” Bertha chipped in.

“How do you mean?” Hickok asked her.

“As far as we know, the Watchers only keep posts in the larger towns and cities. You won’t need to worry about runnin’ into them until the next big town.”

“The next town of any consequence,” Geronimo informed them, his eyes glued to the map, “is a place called Detroit Lakes. Had about seven thousand at the time the war broke out.”

“When will we reach it?” Blade wanted to know.

“Oh, it’s between forty and fifty miles from where we’re at right now,” Geronimo answered. “At the speed you’ve been driving, we should reach it in an hour or so.” He glanced at the watch on his left wrist, taken from a dead Watcher. “About three o’clock.”

“I hope we do run into some more Watchers when we reach Detroit Lakes,” Hickok said hopefully, adding in a low voice, “I have a score to settle and I aim to collect.”

“You won’t be collecting in Detroit Lakes,” Blade informed Hickok.

“How come?”

“Because we’ll be bypassing Detroit Lakes.”

“Are you running from a good scrap?” Hickok asked, a touch of annoyance in his tone.

“You know better.” Blade shook his head. “We’ve wasted enough time as it is. We simply can’t afford another delay, and another fight with the Watchers might wind up with some of us being seriously hurt, or worse. Is there one of you who doesn’t want to get back to the Home as quickly as we can?”

No one spoke.

“All right, then,” Blade continued. “We already bypassed Thief River Falls, and we’ll avoid any other potential Watcher outpost. The SEAL was constructed as an all-terrain vehicle, and it’s time we put it to the test.

We’ll head around those towns possibly inhabited by the Watchers. That way, we should reach the Twin Cities without being attacked.”

“Wait a minute, Big Guy,” Bertha interjected. “You mean to tell me we are gonna cut across the country?”

“We certainly are.”

“Lordy! I don’t like that idea too much,” Bertha protested. “We could run into the Uglies doin’ that! Or worse!”

“We’ll be protected inside the SEAL,” Blade said.

“You hope.”

“Don’t worry.”

“Who, me?”

“What about our meal this evening?” Geronimo questioned Blade. “Do you want me to bag some fresh meat?”

“No. We’ve got venison jerky and the canned food we took from the Watchers in Thief River Falls. When we run out of that, then you can hunt.

We’ll stop at night, for nature breaks, and that’s it.”

“You’ve got this all figured out, haven’t you?” Bertha tried to catch a glimpse of Blade’s face in the mirror.

“I do the best I can,” Blade replied.

“I think you’ll make a good Leader of your Family,” Bertha expressed her opinion.

“What?” Blade cast a sharp glance in her direction.

“Hey! Don’t get uptight. Big Guy. White Meat told me about you becoming the head of your Family some day.”

“White Meat has a big mouth.”

“What’s eating you?” Bertha inquired.

“Nothing,” Blade snapped. Plato’s predecessor as Family Leader was Blade’s father. Four years ago, after Blade’s father had been brutally torn apart by a mutate, Plato had assumed the awesome responsibility of heading the Family. It was customary for Leaders to select their preferred successor and Plato, to Blade’s extreme chagrin, had nominated him.

Blade vividly remembered the difficulties and hardships his father had faced, and he wasn’t certain he wanted the fate, the very lives, of over seventy people in his hands.

“Bejou ahead,” Geronimo stated, staring down the highway.

Bejou turned out to be another deserted, dilapidated town, devoid of all signs of life and habitation. So did Mahnomen, Ogema, Callaway, and Westbury.

“About ten minutes till Detroit Lakes,” Geronimo announced as they left Westbury behind.

“We’ll find a spot to leave the road soon,” Blade said.

Hickok, his head leaning against a window, was idly gazing up at the sky. He suddenly sat up. “What the blazes is that?”

“What’s what?” Blade caught Hickok’s reflection in the mirror.

“Stop the SEAL!” Hickok said urgently. “Get outside. Hurry!”

Without hestiation. Blade applied the brakes. He opened his door, prepared to jump out.

“Up in the sky,” Hickok stated. “Heading from north to south. Hurry!”

Blade ran around to the front of the SEAL, staring up at the blue sky.

Geronimo joined him.

“What did he…” Blade began.

“I see it!” Geronimo raised his right arm, pointing.

“See what?”

“It’s almost directly over us, bearing south. Do you see it yet?”

Blade did. A pinpoint of light streaking across the heavens on a southerly course.

“What is it?” Geronimo asked, fascinated.

“I don’t know,” Blade admitted.

“Do you hear something?” Geronimo cocked his head.

“No. Do you?”

“Yes. Can’t quite describe it. Like a very faint hissing or buzzing. Never heard anything like it.”

Blade and Geronimo stood rooted to the road, mesmerized as the dot of light continued to cross the sky.

“Then I wasn’t imagining things!” Joshua had walked around in front of the transport.

“How do you mean?” Blade asked, keeping his eyes on the bright marvel approaching the southern horizon.

“I’ve seen that thing several times before.”

“You have?” Blade glanced at Joshua. “When?”

“Oh, about three times in the past dozen years. Most of the time at night, when the light is much brighter. I prefer to worship at night, and I spend considerable time gazing at the stars, thanking and praising the Spirit.”

“Why haven’t you said something?”

Joshua shrugged. “What could I say? I did mention a sighting to Plato once, and he expressed his belief that I’d seen a meteor or one of the satellites placed in orbit about the planet before the Big Blast. Hardly a cause for concern.”

“Maybe.” Blade thoughtfully stroked his chin. “Let’s get back inside.”

“What was it?” Hickok asked as they climbed back in. “Could it have been an aircraft of some kind?”

“We don’t know,” Blade replied. “If anyone should see it again, let me know.”

“I’ve seen them before,” Bertha chipped in.

“Oh?” Blade turned and faced her.

“Sure. They pass over the Twins every now and then. Sometimes at night, sometimes in broad daylight.”

“Interesting,” Blade commented. He resumed driving.

“Hey! Look at that! A lake!” Hickok exclaimed.

A large lake was visible to their east, the shore coming to within a couple of hundred yards of Highway 59.

“It’s called Floyd Lake,” Geronimo said, examining the map. “Or was,” he amended.

“Too bad we can’t do some fishing,” Hickok said wistfully. “I like to fish.”

“I’ve seen folks fish,” Bertha commented, “but I never have.”

“I’ll show you some day.” Hickok reached over and placed his hand on her shoulder. “You’ll like it. It’s real restful.”

“Especially the way Hickok fishes,” Geronimo quipped. “He never catches any. Just sits there, watching his line.”

“Very funny,” Hickok retorted. “Remind me to use you as bait next time.”

Blade, waiting for his opportunity, swerved the SEAL to his left, leaving Highway 59 behind, heading across the stretch of field between Floyd Lake and the road.

“What’s your plan?” Geronimo inquired.

“We’ll follow the western shore of the lake,” Blade explained, “until we can bear due east. We’ll make a half-circle around Detroit Lakes, and pick up Highway 59 on the other side. This way, we should avoid any entanglements with Watchers stationed in Detroit Lakes.”

“Sounds good,” Geronimo commented. “About ten miles past Detroit Lakes is a small town called Frazee, and twelve miles beyond that is one called Perham.”

“We’ll stop at Perham for the night,” Blade said.

The map rustled as Geronimo spread a folded section open. “Wait a minute…”

“Is something wrong?” Blade spotted a rabbit hopping away from the SEAL.

“We don’t pick up Highway 59 on the other side of Detroit Lakes.”

“We don’t?”

“No.” Geronimo bent over the map. “Detroit Lakes is at a junction of several highways. On the other side of Detroit Lakes, Highway 59 heads toward the southwest.”

“And we need to go the southeast,” Blade stated.

“I know. Let me see.” Geronimo was busy comparing symbols on the map. “The road we want to pick up beyond Detroit Lakes is called U.S.

Highway 10.”

“It takes us to the southeast?”

“Yep. As a matter of fact, it runs all the way into the Twin Cities.”

Geronimo looked up, smiling. “We’re getting there, slowly but surely.”

“I hope this U.S. Highway 10 is in good shape,” Blade said.

“Should be. According to this map, U.S. Highway 10 is something called a four-lane divided highway. It appears to be a wider road than Highway 59.”

“And we’ll have it all to ourselves,” Hickok mentioned. “I’m beginning to like this driving business. It’s fun.”

“So long as we don’t run into one of the Watcher’s vehicles,” Bertha absently commented.

“That’s a risk we’ll just have to take,” Blade remarked.

“I just hope,” Bertha stated, “you guys do better in the Twin Cities than you did in Thief River Falls.”

“What’s that crack supposed to mean?” Hickok questioned her.

“How soon we forget!”

“Forget what?” Hickok pressed her.

Bertha looked at each of them, shaking her head. “What a bunch of dummies!”

Hickok grinned. “I know what you mean, and excluding myself I think you’re right.”

“You’re included, bozo,” Bertha informed him.

“In what?”

“Who was it,” Bertha asked, “who fed the dead Watchers to the rats in Thief River Falls?”

“We did,” Hickok admitted sheepishly.

“To be precise,” Geronimo interjected, “I did.”

Bertha nodded knowingly. “And we were almost overrun by the damn things!”

“So we made one small mistake,” Hickok conceded.

“And who was it,” Bertha added, “who thought the Watchers might be friendly? What a bunch of dummies!” she repeated, laughing.

Blade was frowning. “She’s right, you know.”

“What do you mean?” Geronimo asked.

“We keep making stupid assumptions, basing our actions on our past experience, experience that’s inadequate when compared to the new realities we’re encountering away from the Home. Bertha is entirely correct.”

“What’d he say?” Bertha wanted to know.

“He said we’re dummies,” Hickok explained.

“I already said that,” Bertha reminded them.

“How were we to know that rats lived under Thief River Falls?”

Geronimo said, defending their actions. “How are we to know what we’ll encounter out here? Just how were we supposed to know about the Brutes? You can’t fault us for our ignorance.”

“I just pray our ignorance doesn’t cost us a life,” Blade said sadly.

“Life is eternal,” Joshua chimed in, “if you have living faith. Even if one of us is killed, we will pass on to the mansions on high. ‘I am come a light into the world, that whosoever believeth on me should not abide in darkness,’” he quoted from John.

“All well and good,” Blade said. “But I’d still prefer to get all of us back to the Home in one piece. I just wish there was a way to minimize our mistakes.”

“Life is a learning experience,” Joshua replied., “We learn by doing. Unfortunately, some of the lessons we must learn can only be derived from bitter experience. Have faith, Blade! All will come out for the good of the Spirit in the end.”

Blade concentrated on his driving.

The countryside was changing. Around the Home, the vegetation was lush, the forest thick with trees and brush. The same held true for Thief River Falls, its park and other natural areas. The terrain near Detroit Lakes, however, was different. The trees were sparser, shorter and gnarled.

Tall grass, waving in the wind, surrounded Floyd Lake.

“This is prime grazing country,” Hickok commented.

“Too bad we don’t have some cattle,” Geronimo said, lamenting the Family’s misfortune.

“The Family would be delighted if we could return with a cow,” Blade agreed.

“What’s a cow?” Bertha asked.

“That’s a cow!” Hickok said, excited, pointing.

Blade slowed.

Several hundred yards distant, near the southern shore of Floyd Lake, grazed a small herd of cattle.

“I don’t believe it!” Hickok pressed his face against the SEAL. “Must be twenty, thirty head out there. Do we stop and try to capture one?”

“No. We can’t spare the time. Maybe on our way back from the Twin Cities,” Blade answered.

“What kind of cows are they?” Joshua asked.

“Beats me,” Blade said. “But if they’ve been running wild all these years, I can see where catching one is going to be extremely difficult.”

As if to accentuate his statement, the herd, having spotted the mechanical intruder, took off, following the shore of the lake towards the east.

The SEAL easily negotiated the rolling fields, circling Detroit Lakes. At one point, when they were bearing south, they crossed a pitted, worn road.

“Highway 34,” Geronimo announced. “It runs east and west.”

They maintained a southerly course until Blade was satisfied Detroit Lakes was well behind them. He turned west, and within three miles they came up on U.S. Highway 10. It turned out to be in the best condition of any roadway they had traveled on so far.

“It’s incredible that these roads have survived this long,” Geronimo mentioned.

“I recall reading in the library,” Joshua said, “that roads built by an ancient civilization called the Romans were still in existence, some even being used, at the time of the Big Blast.”

Blade had a thought. “Say, Bertha?” he called to her.

“Yeah, Big Guy?”

“You’re familiar with the Twin Cities?”

“I know my way around pretty good. I should. I’ve lived there all my life.

You know that. Why ask such a dumb question?”

Blade grinned at her frankness. “What I meant was, how well do you know what’s in the Twin Cities? What buildings are there and even more importantly, what’s inside those buildings?”

“Well,” she said, scratching her head, “I know the north and west parts of the Twins pretty good. The north part is Nomad turf, and I used to be a Porn, so I know the west real good. The south part is where the Wacks hole up, and nobody goes there unless they’ve got a death wish, so even the Porns don’t use it that much. I ain’t never been in the east part. That’s Horn turf, enemy territory. Why you askin’ these questions?”

“You know we must find certain types of scientific and medical equipment,” Blade answered. “Can you think of any buildings that might house what we need?”

“Scientific and medical equipment?” Bertha repeated doubtfully. “Don’t rightly know what you’re talkin’ about, but I might be able to help some.”

She thought a minute. “Most of the Twins, you gotta understand, was trashed long ago, right after the war. In the center of the Twins is an area that doesn’t rightfully belong to anybody. It’s kind of a no-man’s-land.

Least that’s what it’s called. You might find what you’re lookin’ for there, though you’d be crazy to go in there.”

“What makes you think we’ll find what we need there?” Blade asked her.

“I’ve been there, once or twice,” she said grimly. “There’s some big buildings called hospitals there, and one part, Zahner told me, used to be what they called a university. There’s a bunch of signs that call it the University of Minnesota. Aren’t they what you told me you were looking for?”

Blade smiled. “That sounds exactly like what we need.”

“You boys is nuts!”

“Why do you say that?”

“Cause a lot of the Wacks is there, and the Lone Wolves, and worse. The Wacks come up out of the tunnels. They’re based in the south, but you never know where they’ll appear. The Porns and the Horns and the Nomads are always sendin’ patrols in that area. You try going in there, you’ll wind up dead. I know I ain’t going in there!”

“You won’t have to,” Hickok assured her.

“No,” Blade added. “You just point us in the right direction and we’ll take care of the rest.”

“Another town up ahead,” Geronimo announced.

This one was a small town called Frazee, abandoned and disintegrating from the decades of neglect and abuse from the elements.

“We’ll keep going,” Blade said as they drove through the former business section. “I want to put more distance between Detroit Lakes and us. What was the name of the next town?”

“It’s named Perham,” Geronimo responded. “Had two thousand inhabitants before the Big Blast.”

“We’ll stop there for the night”

“But it will still be light,” Geronimo pointed out. “Shouldn’t we take advantage of the light and keep traveling?”

“I’m thinking of all of us,” Blade replied. “We must all be rested when we enter the Twin Cities.”

“We’re okay, pard,” Hickok said.

“Don’t stop on account of us,” Bertha stressed.

“I am stopping on account of us,” Blade reiterated. “We’ll be refreshed when we reach the Twins. A good sleep will help immensely.” Blade turned to Geronimo. “When do you think we’ll reach the Twin Cities?”

Geronimo spent several minutes computing, correlating the information presented on the map. “If my calculations are correct, and bear in mind this is a rough estimate…” He tapped the map, reviewing his data. “Keeping in mind Blade’s speed, which has been hovering at fifty miles per hour, and taking into account detours to avoid possible Watcher stations, and…”

“Will you just answer the blasted question?” Hickok interrupted.

“You’re beginning to sound like Plato!”

“…and subtracting time for potty breaks, we should reach the Twin Cities…” Geronimo glanced up, smiling. “By tomorrow night.”

“Yee-hah!” Hickok shouted.

“That soon?” Joshua asked.

“As near as I can tell,” Geronimo confirmed.

“Back to the Twins,” Bertha said apprehensively.

Blade looked at the speedometer. Maybe even sooner. He had picked up speed since encountering U.S. Highway 10. On Highway 59, which had been considerably narrower, and in rougher condition, he’d kept the SEAL

at close to fifty miles per hour. But he should be able to average sixty on U.S. Highway 10, just as he was doing now, all the way to the Twin Cities if their luck held. The SEAL was capable of much greater speeds, but Blade was reluctant to open the vehicle up. He still entertained lingering doubts about his driving ability, and they couldn’t afford to damage the SEAL through his carelessness.

“Back to the Twins,” Bertha said again. She shuddered.

Hickok placed an arm around her shoulders. “Don’t worry, Black Beauty. We’re not staying there long. Am I right, Blade?”

“You’re right.” Blade nodded. “I want to get in and out as fast as we can.”

“You see?” Hickok said to Bertha. “In and out. Easy as that.”

“Bet me, sucker!”