Nomad's Fury: A Kurtherian Gambit Series (Terry Henry Walton Chronicles Book 5)

by Craig Martelle

  CONTENTS

  Dedication

  Legal

  Prologue

  Chapter One

  Chapter Two

  Chapter Three

  Chapter Four

  Chapter Five

  Chapter Six

  Chapter Seven

  Chapter Eight

  Chapter Nine

  Chapter Ten

  Chapter Eleven

  Chapter Twelve

  Chapter Thirteen

  Chapter Fourteen

  Chapter Fifteen

  Chapter Sixteen

  Chapter Seventeen

  Chapter Eighteen

  Chapter Nineteen

  Chapter Twenty

  Chapter Twenty-One

  Chapter Twenty-Two

  Chapter Twenty-Three

  Chapter Twenty-Four

  Author Notes - Craig Martelle

  Author Notes - Michael Anderle

  Confessions

  Craig Series List

  Michael Series List

  Social Links

  They say behind every great man, is a great woman,

  but what if the woman is a Werewolf?

  DEDICATION

  We can’t write without those who support us

  On the home front, we thank you for being there for us

  We wouldn’t be able to do this for a living if it weren’t for our readers

  We thank you for reading our books

  Nomad’s Fury

  The Terry Henry Walton Chronicles

  Team Includes

  BETA / EDITOR BOOK Acknowledgements in Back!

  JIT Beta Readers - From both of us, our deepest gratitude!

  Micky Cocker

  Alex Wilson

  Ginger Sparkman

  Kimberly Boyer

  Maria Stanley

  If I missed anyone, please let me know!

  NOMAD’S FURY (this book) is a work of fiction.

  All of the characters, organizations, and events portrayed in this novel are either products of the author’s imagination or are used fictitiously. Sometimes both.

  Copyright © 2017 Craig Martelle and Michael T. Anderle

  Cover by Andrew Dobell, creativeedgestudios.co.uk

  Cover copyright © LMBPN Publishing

  LMBPN Publishing supports the right to free expression and the value of copyright. The purpose of copyright is to encourage writers and artists to produce the creative works that enrich our culture.

  The distribution of this book without permission is a theft of the author’s intellectual property. If you would like permission to use material from the book (other than for review purposes), please contact info@kurtherianbooks.com. Thank you for your support of the author’s rights.

  LMBPN Publishing

  PMB 196, 2540 South Maryland Pkwy

  Las Vegas, NV 89109

  First US edition, 2017

  Editing by Mia Darien, miadarien.com

  The Kurtherian Gambit (and what happens within / characters / situations / worlds) are copyright © 2017 by Michael T. Anderle.

  PROLOGUE

  Terry waved as the semi passed between the farms. He knew that Pepe and Maria would be all eyes when they saw the fertile fields. The people weren’t as shy as they had been before. They weren’t waving back, but they weren’t running away either.

  Terry wondered if Corporal James had been able to make contact. He’d find out soon enough.

  The convoy limped off the exit and pulled into the parking area of the old power plant. The other vehicles pulled in behind, parking in order as they always did, side to side, so if a vehicle died in place, it wouldn’t hold up the others.

  Terry wondered if they were inside, curious that he couldn’t hear anything. He realized that the main door was closed. When he got to it, there was a note scratched into the rust. “Home, 2 miles that way,” with an arrow.

  Terry jogged back to the others. All the vehicles were shut down and people were staggering around, confused. Terry climbed into his dune buggy and stood on the driver’s chair. He clung to the roll cage that made up the roof of the vehicle.

  “Listen up,” he projected, his voice echoing oddly off the old power plant. “This is the power plant that we will eventually bring online. But our people here left us a note. It says that our new home is two miles that way. I don’t know about you, but after that drive, I could use the walk. HOME!”

  The people cheered weakly. Terry hoped to hell that they were ready for the influx of people they were going to get.

  “Need us to fire the trucks up, boss? One last time,” Blevin asked.

  “Let’s see where we’re going, First Sergeant, then we’ll move things intelligently, one time, to the best place for them. It would be nice if you could get these into a shop, wouldn’t it?”

  The old man nodded, smiling.

  “That it would, Colonel.”

  The clop of hooves on the roadway alerted the town’s people.

  James and Lacy waved from their horses. They negotiated the hill and rode through what used to be a gate and into the old power plant’s parking lot.

  They saw the colonel and made a beeline, stopping in front of him and saluting.

  “Damn good to see you two!” Terry told them.

  “You made some great time, sir. We weren’t expecting you for quite a while,” James started, looking around at the mass of people, many of them new.

  “Report, Corporal,” Terry ordered.

  “Great Lakes Naval Base is right there,” James reported, pointing. “It has a small power plant that Ted and Timmons have already been able to get running. We’re currently cleaning out multi-family homes and barracks for the good people of New Boulder!”

  James yelled the last part for everyone to hear.

  “Is there room to park our trucks?”

  “As much as you need, sir, and would you look at that! Where in the hell did you find all of this? Who are these people? Where’s the rest of the platoon?” James asked rapidly, pointing to the equipment, then waving his arm at the mob of people.

  Lacy shook her head and rolled her eyes, while a couple of the people they knew from New Boulder made their way close to shake her hand.

  Billy and Felicity were happy to walk or drive the last mile. It didn’t matter to them, they just wanted to get to their new home. Billy waited for Terry to give the order.

  Char laughed and Terry smiled. “We’ll talk later, Corporal, once we have these people settled. Blevin! Fire up the trucks. We’re going home!”

  Many opted to walk, while others climbed back into the vehicles. Three of the trucks wouldn’t start. At that point, no one cared. People adjusted and the other engines revved.

  Terry led the way in his dune buggy, driving easily down the cleared roadway. The other vehicles followed. James galloped ahead while Lacy remained with those walking.

  James led them through the main gate and into the base, turning and following the road past sports fields, past the parade deck, and behind the main administration buildings where the temporary housing units were located.

  James directed the vehicles into the largest parking lot. Terry waved Billy to the front. He drove up and parked his dune buggy next to Terry’s beat up ride. James pointed as he told Billy about the available quarters that they’d already prepared. They only had half of what they needed, since they had thought they had more time.

  Billy told them not to worry. They had four hundred people to help and what would have taken
two people months to do, the town’s people would accomplish in days.

  Billy looked at the main building where admirals and naval captains would have once sat. “I see the mayor’s office, Felicity darling.”

  “I do, too, Billy dear,” Felicity drawled.

  The sound of a train whistle pierced the late afternoon air.

  “I should have told you that Timmons took the others to look for a steam engine so they could bring the Mini Cooper back here.” James grinned.

  “No way!” Terry jumped in the dune buggy where Char and Kae joined him.

  “What’s that noise, Mom?” Kaeden asked.

  “That is a train, and I expect it is pulling humanity’s future,” Char replied.

  CHAPTER ONE

  Joseph stood on the road that ran between the two halves of the Great Lakes Naval Station.

  The bustle of activity warmed his Vampire heart. So many hard-working, well-fed humans. The Werewolves bothered him, and the Were-tiger threw him for a loop.

  “Where did you come from?” he asked himself. He tilted his head to keep the sun off his skin, the brim of his hat casting a wide shadow. The rest of his delicate skin was covered in black leather.

  The group had arrived the previous day in vehicles. Vehicles! Maybe they weren’t kidding when they said they were bringing civilization back. All that warm blood, pulses pounding, bodies writhing.

  It gave him hope, which was something he hadn’t had in a long, long time.

  He watched and waited.

  ***

  “He’s here,” Char said, clenching her fists. “How about that, huh? Here less than a day and we get a Forsaken stopping by for a snack.”

  She walked out the front door of the guest quarters that James and Lacy had prepared for them, but the quality of their new home was forgotten in the presence of a Forsaken.

  Char sensed the others and waited. Ted, Timmons, Sue, Shonna, and Merrit joined her. Terry and Kae stood nearby.

  “Shall we?” Char asked, turning without waiting for a response.

  “His name is Joseph,” Timmons said softly, leaning backward to protect himself from an expected punch.

  Char froze. “You’ve been talking with a Forsaken, and you didn’t tell me before now?”

  “I’m sorry, but you’ve been here for less than a day. There was so much, and this guy was scared off fairly easily. Look at him, he’s just standing there, I suspect, waiting for us.” Timmons wouldn’t look Char in the eye.

  She pursed her lips as she thought. “That may change things a bit, but if you and Ted intimidated him, then we’ll talk first before killing him. Shall we?” Char walked casually with the rest of her pack, including the Were-tiger Aaron, noting that the Forsaken seemed to be waiting patiently.

  She wondered if he thought of humans as snacks.

  It disgusted her. Char’s purple eyes sparkled and started to glow as the pack left the base and headed straight for the man in black. Terry and Kae walked right behind Char.

  “I’m curious,” Terry started to say as the group walked quickly along the road toward the waiting Vampire.

  “Forsaken killed Xandrie,” she replied, ice hanging from her words. “The only thing I’m curious about is how quickly the blood can flow from his body after his head is cut off and on the ground.”

  Char strode boldly to Joseph, stopping when she was within arm’s reach.

  “Such hatred boiling behind that pretty face,” Joseph said smoothly. Her lip twitched in revulsion at the pasty white of the unnatural skin on his face.

  Terry grabbed her arm. She tried to shrug him off, but he gripped more tightly. Char turned on him, angry. He caressed her face and smiled. She relaxed and her eyes sparkled back at him. She took Kaeden’s hand.

  At dizzying speed, Terry rotated at his waist and swung, catching the Forsaken in the middle of the chest with the heel of his hand. Like a battering ram, it drove the Vampire backward and threw him off his feet.

  With a grunt, Joseph hit the ground and lay there.

  “Get up,” Terry demanded, a snarl on his face as he loomed over the Vampire.

  Joseph let himself start healing from the cracked sternum the human had just given him, something the Forsaken considered to be impossible. He’d seen in Terry’s mind that he was going to hit him, but had no idea the power that would be behind it.

  “I just came to talk. I could have snatched one of your people in the night and you would have never known, but I didn’t. Here I am, hat in hand, and you go all Thor the Avenger on me,” Joseph grumbled as he struggled to his feet. “It’s been a while, but okay. Give me a second.”

  “The only thing I’ll give you is more of you on the ground, crying like a little girl,” Terry said as he stalked to the side. The Werewolves were spreading out, forming a large circle from which the Vamp couldn’t escape.

  “Well now, that’s a bit unfair, don’t you think?” Joseph asked as he regained his feet and started stretching.

  “Marine Corps rules, suckwad. The only fair fight is the one you lose,” Terry quoted.

  Joseph mumbled something, then started stretching, but not as a fighter preparing to fight, more like a ballerina preparing for a performance. He dipped, holding one hand over his head, shifting left and then right, hopping from his heel to his toes.

  Char looked confused. Terry wondered what the creature’s game was.

  The Forsaken hopped forward one step while holding a pose, then spun, sending a roundhouse toward Terry’s head.

  The human caught Joseph’s foot and dropped, bunching his legs underneath him as he twisted and pulled, lifting the Forsaken. Terry swung him through one hundred and eighty degrees and slammed him into the ground.

  “Oh, that hurt,” Joseph grunted, as he lay with pavement embedded in his face. He crawled to his knees and Terry kicked him in the ribs, sending the Forsaken halfway across their circle. Shonna stepped back. Joseph looked up at her through foggy eyes. She responded by drawing a line across her throat with one finger.

  He looked afraid, but summoned the courage to stand and face his attacker.

  “Do you know how long I’ve been alive?” Joseph asked, looking at the faces before him, the Were with the human child hiding behind her, the other Werewolves, and finally the human with the slight red glow to his eyes.

  “I don’t care,” Terry said as he slowly approached.

  “Four hundred, forty-seven years. I came over on one of the original settlement ships. Unlimited land to do with as we wished, to make our own way, be beholden to no one. I’ve seen how this country grew, and how it ended. What if I told you that I don’t drain people?” Joseph offered.

  “Then I would call you a liar,” Terry said.

  Timmons interjected, “Then who drained that poor sap on the railroad line north of O’Hare?”

  Terry snarled. “I’m pretty sure there’s nothing you can say that will spare your life. You see, I wasn’t here at the beginning, but I was here for the end, and fuckers like you? You didn’t make any of it better. So we’re cleaning house, starting fresh. Why would we want to include something as old and worn out as you?”

  “At one point in my life, I lived in Williamsburg with the others, Thomas Jefferson, James Monroe, Patrick Henry, the Marquis de Lafayette. Do you know who Alexander Purdie was?” Joseph tilted his head to make sure he caught the look in Terry’s eye. “I see you do. I was his partner in the printing business. John Joseph Dixon. I simply go by Joseph now.”

  Terry hesitated. Purdie had printed the materials used to build support for the revolution.

  “But you were bought out of the business in seventeen seventy-five?” Terry asked, stepping back to give them space. He’d read all he could on the revolution, including taking numerous trips to Colonial Williamsburg. He was a big fan of history.

  “I sold him my share of the business, but I was still there through it all. Even joined the army at one point, early in seventy-six. They needed people with all different sk
ills. Washington was magnificent, by the way. His memoirs and storytellers don’t do him justice,” Joseph continued as he circled staying out of Terry’s reach.

  Char lunged in and shoved the Vampire forward. He stumbled a couple steps. Terry hit him in the face with a right jab, driving the Forsaken to the ground.

  He moaned as he lay there, unwilling to move and expose himself to the slow torture of a ritual pummeling.

  Joseph had been in Terry’s mind, saw the man’s honor code, and most importantly for the Forsaken, saw a way to survive the day.

  “I will work for you,” Joseph told Terry, from one knee, while clasping his hands behind his head. “You have my word that I will take no lives from your group.”

  Terry wanted to punch him, but he couldn’t attack someone who surrendered. Char could because of her abject hatred for the Forsaken.

  “Hold!” Terry growled as he moved to Joseph’s side.

  “What would that look like, Joseph?” Terry asked, crouching to be closer to a Vampire, who looked to be in a great deal of pain. His hat had come off and was under Merrit’s foot as the Werewolf stood there, arms crossed, glaring. “A Forsaken working for a lowly human…”

  “I know not what you are or even what your name is, but ‘lowly human’ is not it. I’ve never seen the red glow from anyone other than one of my kind. You, good sir, are something different and something special. If civilization is to return, it will be because you carry it on your back.” Joseph squinted as he looked up at Terry, who had put the sun behind him as a little extra torment for the daywalker.

  “My name is Terry Henry Walton, Colonel, Force de Guerre. This is Major Charumati, my partner, and our son Kaeden. If I let you live,” Terry started to say, but the Werewolves growled, stamped their feet, and clenched their fists in dismay. They wanted nothing more than to see the Forsaken die. “If I let you live, how can you assure me of your loyalty?”

  “Nice to meet you, Terry Henry Walton, Charumati, Kaeden. I’m afraid that all I have are my actions, from which you can judge me. I have not attacked any of your people and will not from this day forward, but to be sure, I need to know who your people are and where they will be,” Joseph said with his head up, looking at Terry. He kept his hands clenched behind his head.