“These men and women represent the foundation of the Force de Guerre, the FDG. Like Camelot, the Knights of the Round Table came together and swore on their personal honor to protect the innocent, show them the way to live worthy lives. That’s what the Force does.”
He nodded to his people, “We train harder to make sure no one can stand up to us. In the modern days, we called it peace through superior firepower. That’s what we’re trying to build here and as long as we have someone in charge who is faithful to the code, the Force will remain a force for good.”
Terry wondered if he sounded like a used car salesman. He was proud of his people, but they had a long ways to go before they were anything like the group he commanded before the fall.
Akio looked over the formation, slowly looking from one person to the next, assessing them. Terry understood that this moment was make or break for his future and maybe even the future of all mankind. If he couldn’t convince Akio that the Force could eventually do the Queen Bitch’s bidding, then they were no better than the raiders who attacked them in the Wastelands.
Clyde stood nearby wagging his tail, looking happily at Akio. He nodded to the dog, using his mind to continue sending thoughts of love to the animal.
Akio looked back up and his eyes locked on Char. He stared at her. The corner of her lip raised in a snarl.
Please, Char, no! Terry mouthed.
“Please come, both of you,” Akio said as he nodded to those in front and then walked toward the pod. A Japanese woman and a shorter child were waiting for Akio at the bottom of the ramp. Terry hadn’t seen them before.
Char hadn’t waited for Terry to call her. She’d heard Akio clearly. When Terry made to wave her over, she was already there. “Please,” he whispered, then put his forehead against hers. “I love you.” She relaxed at his touch and concern.
Akio stood behind the pod, waiting patiently as Terry and Char, hand in hand, strode up to him.
“We approve,” Akio said simply. “Here’s a way you can call me, if the need arises. Use it sparingly.”
He handed Terry a communication device, started to turn away, then hesitated. He looked Terry in his eyes, “I hear the north side of the town called Chicago has potential,” he said softly. He waved the other two inside, followed them, and the ramp closed.
The pod lifted off soundlessly, then raced away to the east, gaining altitude until it disappeared into the blue of the morning sky.
***
“Did you see that?” Timmons said, squinting into the northeastern sky. “I thought I saw an aircraft.”
“Airplanes haven’t flown these skies in more than twenty years,” Adams said. “I didn’t hear anything. You know, the modern world used to be so noisy. It’s nicer now. You can hear everything. What makes you think you saw an airplane?”
“A dot, far away, but it flew straight, not like a bird at all. Too big. It had to be massive to see it from this distance,” Timmons replied.
“Interesting,” was all Adams would commit to. No one else seemed concerned, already dismissing it as a mirage.
Not Timmons. He knew what he’d seen. His Werewolf eyes wouldn’t miss something like that. But what did it mean? Why was an aircraft flying from that ridiculous little town where they’d last seen Char?
Char. What was she doing? They’d run thousands of miles to find her, bring her back into the pack, find Marcus, and hopefully kill him. Timmons’s ambition had grown with every step he’d taken away from Cancun. His hatred of Marcus had grown with it. His fury at the thought of the great, black-pelted Werewolf boiled just below his surface.
He was no longer afraid of the alpha, and what better way to take over than to take the alpha’s mate as his own? If they could find Char, Timmons would have her, and she’d welcome him, because he was different.
He was better than Marcus.
Timmons leaned back and relaxed for a few more moments. Soon, they’d be running, eating away at the miles that kept them from the last place they’d seen the other members of the pack.
“I’m coming for you, Charumati,” Timmons whispered.
***
Billy sent a runner to summon Terry Henry. The runner position was new to the mayor’s office owing to the mass influx of people. Billy Spires needed a runner to carry word to the broad range of work locations where the good people of New Boulder could be found. He’d hired one of the Weathers’ boys because they were fleet of foot and the Weathers family had been good to New Boulder. This was Billy’s way to give a little bit back.
The young man showed up at the barracks where Terry and the Force had just returned after Akio’s visit. Terry knew that it was not a coincidence. The young man was breathing hard, but maintaining his composure. Terry just looked at him, waiting for him to speak.
“The mayor, Billy Spires requests the pleasure of your audience as soon as you can make the time,” the young man spouted formally.
“Let me guess what he really said. ‘I want to see that fucking bastard right God damn now!’ But you were raised right and are too much of a gentleman to repeat such language?” Terry posited.
The young Weather’s put up a finger, took a deep breath and spoke. “Not too bad, Mr. Walton. It was more like this. ‘What the fuck is that thing? I bet Terry Henry had something to do with it. Tell him to get his ass in my office ASAP!’ I believe those were his exact words.” The young man grinned.
“Your name is?” Terry asked. It had been years and he didn’t remember ever getting introduced to the whole Weathers tribe. They’d traveled the Wastelands together and he didn’t know their names. Terry shook his head.
“I’m Clemson, sir,” the young man answered. “Dad named us after the SEC football teams, whatever that means.”
“No shit?” Terry said, earning him a cuff on the arm. Char looked sideways at him.
“Thank you, Clemson,” Char informed the young man. “You can tell the mayor that we’ll be along shortly. We need to have a private conversation with the Force first. It won’t be long.” He nodded and ran off.
“Circle up!” Terry called. Mark, James, and Blackie gathered their people and edged in close to the major and the colonel.
Terry looked around at all of the anxious faces looking back at him. He nodded to where the Pod had been sitting, “Akio is one of the chosen few, a very special man. He already knows everything there is to know about you. He knows about the Force, and most importantly, he approves of what we’re doing here,” Terry told them, seeing a wide variety of questions on all their faces.
“I can’t answer any of your questions. I didn’t know he’d survived the WWDE or that he was still around. I don’t know if The Queen Bitch has returned or not.”
Char had questions, too, and he would answer all of them, to the best of his ability, but later. “The Queen Bitch. Sounds like an ominous title, doesn’t it? But you will find no greater protector of the people of this planet. The reason anyone survived the WWDE was probably because of her. The reason this planet is here at all is because she is somewhere else in the universe, fighting an alien threat. I think she’s winning, otherwise the aliens would probably be here right now, causing us some major grief.”
Terry thought about how much he wanted to tell them.
Maybe it was time.
“Let me explain a little. Bethany Anne is her real name, most of those who didn’t appreciate her called her a bitch. So, the story goes, she took that epithet and made it her own. She told people there had better be a ‘Queen’ in front of that bitch, or they would find her size seven’s up their asses. She was and might still be the greatest Vampire that ever lived.”
Terry jerked a thumb back at where he has spoken with Bethany Anne’s representative, “Akio is one of her closest people. He’s a Vampire, too. Major Charumati?” He nodded to her. “She’s a Werewolf. If these terms don’t mean anything to you, well that’s fine. We can talk more about it later.”
Terry looked around at his people, gau
ging their acceptance, “If you think you know about Vampires and Werewolves, understand one thing. There are good and evil versions of everything. Char is one of the good ones, and she will protect you with her life, as would I. Akio is one of the most honorable men I’ve ever met.” Terry tapped his head, “He will know if you’ve strayed from the path and will dispense justice quickly and mercilessly,” he finished evenly.
He hoped they got the message.
“What about you, sir? If the major is a Werewolf, then what are you? How could a normal man ever hope to stand up to a Werewolf?” Mark asked. Terry should have told him before, maybe told all of them.
“I’m just a man, but I do have a little something extra in my blood, thanks to Bethany Anne and her people. They saved my life, and I am forever in their debt.”
It was the truth, but not all of it. Terry didn’t think any more than that was their business, like how old he really was, or that he would outlive them all. As would Char. “And none of that information is to be shared with the people of the town. None of it. If they ask, you will not lie, just direct them to me to address their questions.”
Terry let out a breath, “The best news from Akio’s visit is that good people are still watching over us. A lot of people died. A lot. But without Akio and his like, we may have all perished. I’m relieved he’s still alive, and you should be, too. I was in one of the worst hell holes on the planet, before the fall, during an endless war, and Akio arrived to save us and all the people we were supposed to be protecting.” Terry waved the communication device, drawing their eyes. “And if we ever get that deep into the shit again, God Bless, Akio is one call away.”
Terry dismissed the group and he, Char, and Clyde started walking toward the mayor’s house. Clyde took off after an unknown animal that was moving through the brush.
Terry hoped it wasn’t a skunk. God, he so hoped it wasn’t a skunk.
He’d seen one recently and knew Clyde would not avoid it. He didn’t need another Margie Rose wooden spoon beating, or sleeping outside with the dog.
He didn’t want to be anywhere other than in bed with Char. They were making up for lost time, and although neither was getting enough sleep, he had nothing to complain about.
Terry smiled to himself. His Werewolf wife, a Vampire master, and an old lady with a wooden spoon. He daydreamed that he was back in the rapids, racing downstream, but this time, he was in a cushy raft, not even getting wet, while a butler that looked alarmingly like Clyde served him cold beer.
“Penny for your thoughts?” Char said, wondering what could have caused the stupid expression on his face as he stared into the distance.
“Huh? Oh. I’d tell you, but you wouldn’t believe me,” he responded, continuing to look mindlessly toward the town.
“Try me.”
“Clyde was serving me cold beer while I rode a raft down the rapids of life,” Terry said simply, finally looking at Char. He stopped, turned toward her, and caressed the silver streak of hair cascading down the side of her face.
“Taffeta, darling,” she whispered as she ran one hand down his chest.
“What?” Terry was confused.
“Young Frankenstein? Honestly, TH, I thought you were more cultured.” She pushed him away playfully. “Billy’s waiting, and as much as I enjoy trying to make up for a lost two years, we may have to delay things until after dinner.”
“Right. After dinner. Do you think Margie Rose knows?” Terry asked.
“For Christ’s sake, Terry, we shake the whole house! Of course she knows.”
“Not that, I mean that we’re different,” Terry corrected.
“She doesn’t care. She sees what she wants to see, as does almost every other human in the world. It’s what makes humanity great,” she paused a moment, “and it’s humanity’s greatest weakness.”
Terry looked toward the barracks, wondering what the Force thought of Akio, the pod, Char, and Terry himself. Actions speak loudest, and Terry Henry Walton’s actions could not be disputed.
But in the absence of information, people tended to fill the void with the worst things they could imagine.
What they saw in real life wrestled with errant thoughts running wild within their minds. Terry understood Char’s statement. Sometimes people couldn’t take things at face value, believe what they saw. It was easier to tell themselves a story.
“Run!” Char yelled and took off at Werewolf speed. The smell hit Terry a millisecond later.
Clyde had found a skunk.
CHAPTER FORTY-SIX
Mark, James, and Blackbeard stood to the side of the enclosure, watching the bear cub play with the tub that was supposed to contain his water. It was currently upside down with Hank underneath, wallowing in the small mud pit he’d just created.
“Werewolf? Vampire? An aircraft that doesn’t look like an aircraft? The Queen Bitch? What the fuck is all this? We’ve been killing ourselves riding through the wastelands and they have an aircraft. That’s some serious bullshit right there,” Mark complained.
“What’s up your ass?” James asked accusingly, turning to face Mark with his fists clenched.
“He throws all this shit on us, then runs us into the ground afterwards? We’re just a bunch of toys to him. Let me correct that, to him and his woman,” Mark snarled.
James couldn’t take any more. He jabbed, catching Mark with his hands down. His punch connected with Mark’s jaw, snapping the man’s head backwards. James followed with a haymaker to the gut, which doubled Mark over. He slowly sagged to the ground.
James jumped on him and wailed on Mark’s face, swinging punch after punch until Blackie drug him off.
“You fucking ingrate!” James yelled, spitting at Mark as he curled on the ground, continuing to cover his head with his hands. “You have no idea. You haven’t gone out there to see how bad it is, but how good the colonel and major treat us and all the survivors we find. He trusts you! He trusts you to keep New Boulder safe. He didn’t give that job to anyone else, only you. And you backstab him for it. I ought to fucking kill you!”
“Why didn’t he tell us?” Mark asked, sitting up and massaging his damaged face.
“He did. He told me, Gerry, Lacy, and Devlin when we were being chased by Marcus, but he swore us to secrecy, and I, for one, won’t betray his trust. Don’t you remember what we were before him?:
James, his voice hissing, his eyes radiating anger continued, “I won’t ever forget. Every God damn day I’m thankful for what I have now, all because of Colonel Walton.”
Eyeing James, playing with his jaw, Mark asked, “Why was he afraid of Marcus?”
“You didn’t reason that one out yourself? You must be dumb as a box of rocks. The major is a Werewolf and her former mate comes after her. That’s right. That big bastard was a Werewolf, too, and he was a fucking monster! He killed Devlin. He tried to kill me and Lacy. He did his God damned best to kill the major and the colonel, too. Didn’t you see that scar on her face? We barely survived, but the colonel used his whip, of all the fucking weapons we have, it was only him and his god-damn fucking whip choking that fucker until the major could bite his throat out. Those two people fought like Hell’s demons. I’ll never forget what they’ve done for me,” He pointed at Mark, “and you shouldn’t either.”
James shook Blackie off and stormed away.
“He’s right, you know,” Blackbeard said as he helped Mark to unsteady feet. “If you want to not die in your sleep, you should probably not say anything against the colonel or the major, ever again.” Blackie let the man go and vaulted the fence to enter the pen with the grizzly cub.
“Come on, Hank, let’s get you cleaned up and some fresh water. What’s with you, boy? Always spilling your water. You’ll never grow up to be a big strong bear like that!” The cub ran at the young man and he dodged, then tackled the bear cub, which probably weighed almost as much as he did.
“Why didn’t they tell me?” Mark mumbled. “All they had to do was tell me.�
��
***
“That dog is not coming in this house!” Felicity yelled from the upstairs window. “I can smell him from here!”
Terry winced as he leaned down to look Clyde in the eye. Clyde’s tail was between his legs. He was one unhappy mutt. Billy maintained a small horse trough out back by the shed, just in case horses were held up while their riders visited, though mainly, he kept it for Terry and Char who were the most frequent horse-riding visitors.
Terry led the dog out back and with a quick movement, grabbed Clyde around his big chest and hauled him into the horse tank. Clyde kicked, splashed, and started braying. “Bring some soap!” Terry called.
Char had gone in the front door, reappearing out the back with some of the lye soap that one of the farmers made. Too much was toxic to the skin and it was harsh on hair, but besides that, it was the only soap they had.
Terry scrubbed the miserable dog, holding him firmly by the scruff of his neck. Rinsing and rewashing until Clyde only smelled bad, instead of projecting skunk stench.
Terry was half-soaked, so he took off his shirt. When he let Clyde out of the trough, the dog tried to bolt, but Terry kept him close, using his shirt to dry Clyde as much as he could.
“Look at me!” he told the dog. “Stay away from skunks! Do you understand? Stay away from skunks.” He looked Clyde in his eyes, “Go find yourself a rabbit!” Terry let go and Clyde ran to a patch of dirt, where he rolled around until he was covered.
“Remember,” Char told him, “you love that dog.”
“What a dumbass,” Terry replied watching Clyde. Char wasn’t sure who he was referring to. She let it go, smiling as Clyde shook chunks of dirt and mud from his coat. His tail was up and his tongue out as he headed into some nearby brush.
Terry hung his shirt over a pole to let it dry. The day would be warm, maybe even hot, but not Wastelands hot. The mountains tempered that, kept the whole area cool enough for crops to grow, although they had to tap their reservoirs more than usual this year.
Nomad Omnibus 01_A Kurtherian Gambit Series Page 40
