“What the hell happened?”
“Cow got caught in the harness. She got out of it pretty quickly. No harm no foul, right?” the old farmer said.
Adams shook his head, before going on a mini-walkabout. He liked to walk in the darkness around the separate camps each night so he could get fresh air and clear his head. It gave him time alone to think about Xandrie and about what a way ahead looked like.
He was lonely and found that being alone helped. He moved farther into the darkness, where he carefully undressed and turned into his Were self. He ran free, hunting and acting like a pup. He wanted to recover the innocence of youth when he had nothing to worry about.
Adams knew it would never be the same, but Char had told them how Terry had lost his whole family, yet there he was, giving one hundred percent of himself so that others could live in peace. Life would never be the same, but if it was worse, that was Adams’s fault. For it to be better, that was Adams’s responsibility.
He had committed to the alpha that he would get the cattle to New Chicago. Adams also knew that his mission was to bring the people too, as one group and not a bunch of individuals. Tonight had moved them one step closer to that goal.
He couldn’t control how people felt, but he could influence how they perceived the world around them. Eli’s family wasn’t all bad, once he got to know them. Same with all the kids, the farmers, everyone.
Adams ran down a jackrabbit, devoured it, and then chased away a couple coyotes. He returned to his clothes, changed, and tried to fall asleep. It never came easy and when it did, it wasn’t restful. Forsaken leapt at him from the darkness, and Xandrie’s screams echoed through his mind.
***
“Ted, you sly dog!” Terry said, as he decided that he had to mess with Ted, the master of the literal word.
“I’m a Werewolf,” he said, confused.
“But you have a boat, my man!” Terry slapped Ted on the back.
“Yes!” Ted brightened appreciably. “It holds three people and has been stalwart under the general conditions of the lake. We’ve only sailed within sight of land, I’m afraid. I dare not take it farther out. It’s too small for that.”
“When do we go?” Terry pressed.
“We have a rather lengthy list of things to do here,” Ted replied and then he started going through it. Terry stopped him while Char watched.
“No problem, Ted. Do you mind if I take your boat out? I was ASA certified in small boat and coastal navigation. That was a while ago, but it won’t take long to get back up to speed. Looks like light winds today,” Terry noted. He grinned at Ted, knowing the man would cave at the mention of certifications.
“I guess, but it’s my boat!” Ted countered.
“We’ll return it better than it was when we left,” Terry called over his shoulder as he waved and walked away. Char and Kae followed him out of the small power plant.
“I doubt that. It’s in perfect condition right now,” Ted said to their fleeing forms.
Char huffed as Terry rushed ahead. He quickly realized the error of his ways, stopping and waiting for his family. Kae ran to him.
“What is sailing?” the boy asked.
“That, my little man, is what we are going to start teaching you. We’ll use the wind to power us over the water. Look out there!” Terry pointed at the lake, its blue waters disappearing over the distance. It was an ocean as far as Kaeden was concerned. He hugged Terry tightly, afraid of the vast unknown.
“We’ll stay close to the shore as we head north, maybe do some fishing, check out the area, see if we sense a Were-bear, you know, the usual stuff,” Terry said.
Char shook her head, knowing that she didn’t want to tangle with any such thing.
“I left my fishing spear!” Kae cried, wiggling to get down.
“We don’t need that for this kind of fishing. We’ll use lines and lures. I’ll show you and we’ll have fun.” Terry put Kae down, and the boy ran ahead.
“Were-bear? What is wrong with you?” Char’s look made him stop. He held his hands up, wondering what she was talking about.
“See the great Terry Henry Walton wrestling a man eater in the center ring!” Char continued in her best rendition of a circus ringmaster.
“I guess that’s what it looks like, but that’s not what it is,” Terry started as he took Char’s hand and they walked slowly along the shore on their way to the small harbor where Ted’s boat was docked. “I want to keep any potential enemies away from here. Peace starts out there, not in here.”
“You’ll fight him, won’t you?” Char asked.
“I would prefer not to, actually. I doubt this old .45 would do anything besides piss him off. The rifle? That, too. Maybe a grenade?” Terry smiled. “I’m kidding. I have no intention of going ashore to engage with a Were-bear. I just want to know where it is.”
Char understood where he was coming from. If they had to stare down such a creature, she wanted to do it with the pack on one side of her and Terry and the platoon on the other.
***
Mrs. Grimes was in a state. After all of Mark’s sweet-talking, when she showed up at the barracks, she found the entire platoon playing grab-ass and nothing was clean. She refused to take more than one step into the squad bay. The sergeant was none too pleased either.
He invited her outside to wait where there was a picnic table. He used his sleeve to clear off a spot and then stormed back inside. Mrs. Grimes was gratified to hear the yelling and commotion as large pieces of furniture were thrown about.
More yelling. She kicked back and closed her eyes to absorb the sun without feeling like she was roasting alive.
***
Aaron stood on the outside looking in. He hadn’t been accepted by the pack, although he’d made overtures. Shonna and Merrit had joined two other Werewolves in the power plant. That left Sue, and she was busy with the mayor as he tried to figure out how to feed the people.
The native delegation was every bit as displaced as he was. That was where he’d been found, but hadn’t fit in. He asked the chief if he could join the delegation, although the chief told him that he didn’t need to ask. He was a free man to do as he wished. Since they’d taken him in, he decided he’d help Chief Foxtail’s mother. At least until someone else accepted him for who he was.
The old lady moved slowly and wanted it warmer. “Autumn Dawn, we will build a fire for you,” the man called Rapids said soothingly. The old woman was uncomfortable and they hoped that her age wasn’t getting the best of her.
“Winter Rain, I need you to gather more firewood,” Rapids requested of the last in their party, the young man at the age to prove himself.
“I’ll go with him,” Aaron offered and Rapids nodded.
“Winter Rain, where do you think we can find some firewood?” Aaron asked congenially.
The young man looked hard at the tall man. He seemed to study Aaron for a few moments before shrugging and walking away.
Aaron looked at the ground as he shuffled after the young man. I just wanted to teach English, but then this, I’m a Were, he thought.
Next door to the base was an old golf course. Nature had reclaimed the land and that meant deadfall, logs scattered on the ground that could be hacked up and used for a fire.
The snarl of the wolf pack was the first sound they heard. Both men froze, refusing to move. Ten wolves moved in around them, many baring their fangs and growling. Aaron started to back up. They moved toward him, ignoring Winter Rain.
The first wolf darted in, angling for the leg of its enemy, hobble it so the others could close in for the kill.
Aaron wasn’t going to let that happen. He instantly changed into a Were-tiger, shaking off the human clothes as he slapped the attacking wolf aside. With one mighty leap, he hit the side of the tree, digging in his claws, and he ran upwards to the first broad branch.
The wolves threw themselves at the base of the tree, looking up, growling and snapping.
The Were-
tiger let out an ear-piercing scream. Winter Rain covered his ears and gasped. The wolf pack backed away, but still surrounded the tree. They looked as if they wished the branch would break. Aaron screamed again, his pale-yellow eyes blazing with rage.
He picked his target, flexed his paws, felt the claws respond against the tree bark, and prepared to leap.
***
Boris had to ride down two of the longhorns who wandered off. Once he chased them back, the group drove the herd ahead, keeping the Missouri River to their left.
Adams watched from the seat of the cart. Fred was driving as he usually did, casually without saying a word.
“I’ve ridden with you, what, five times now?” Adams asked. The man nodded and mumbled. “I think you have yet to say a word. What’s up, Fred? Why didn’t you stay behind like Ernie?”
The older man looked at Adams as if he was too young to know any better. “Even an idiot could see that Boulder was dying. I give it five years and the Wastelands will be crawling into the mountains. Boulder, Denver, all of it will be buried in red dust. You aren’t old enough to know what it was like before,” Fred replied.
Adams didn’t correct the man regarding his age, but Fred was right in that Adams didn’t know what Boulder was like before. He was a big city boy, born and raised.
“Green everywhere you looked. To the east? Massive fields and pastures. I lived out that way, had me a big farm, needed semis to haul my crops. Then that bullshit from the guvmint ruined me, ruined the whole world,” Fred said bitterly.
“They ruined it for everyone, especially themselves,” Adams responded slowly. “No one from the government survived, I suspect—they were hit with the worst of it. Governments fighting governments and us poor saps caught in the middle.” Adam thought about it a moment, “It made the Greek tragedies look like comedies.”
They rode on in silence as the cattle ambled onward.
Adams called a halt when he saw a group of Native Americans blocking the way ahead.
He shouted at those ahead of him to pass the word and after five minutes, the Weathers boys and Eli’s grandkids had the herd stopped.
Adams jumped from the buckboard and walked quickly around the small herd, studiously avoiding the massive horns of Eli’s cattle that seemed to find their way into his path.
***
The small boat slid gracefully through the water as Terry tacked back and forth, calling out the warning each time so Char and Kae wouldn’t get clocked by the boom as it snapped from port to starboard and back again.
Kaeden stood in the boat, leaning over the front so he could see straight ahead. Terry was keeping it one hundred yards offshore where the lake was still relatively shallow, but free of underwater obstructions.
“Can you swim?” he asked Char.
“Of course,” she answered dismissively, then winked at him. “But I only dog paddle.”
He appreciated the humor. “What about you, Kae? Can you swim?” The boy turned and instantly looked sad. He shook his head and stared into the bottom of the boat.
“What’s that face for?” Terry chuckled. “The world is your classroom and it’s our responsibility to teach you. We’ll make sure you learn how to swim. Climb back here and help me steer.”
Char looked at the serenity of the water as Kae grabbed the tiller and held on. “Shouldn’t we be helping with the million things that need to be done?” Char asked.
“Yes, we should, but in due time. Our job is to keep these people safe so they can do what they do, survive, thrive, all of that,” Terry said as he watched the wind and the waves. He tacked the boat toward shore, then continued.
“They need to settle in. If we were there, they’d ask us questions that are best asked of Billy Spires and the town elders. I think the most important thing we can do is find out if we have a Were-bear problem. If he or she is up here, then we’ll get the pack and come back, armed to the teeth. We don’t need that kind of problem; just like we don’t need to worry about a Forsaken. Keep your friends close and your enemies closer, right?”
Char pursed her lips as she thought about it. After an hour of sailing, Kae was getting tired, so they settled into a sheltered cove and dropped a couple lines in the water. Char was rewarded with the first catch, while Terry helped Kae to bring in the second fish. After that, they quickly filled the bottom of the boat.
Char continued fishing while Terry taught Kaeden how to clean the mass of walleyes that they’d landed. The boy used his own knife to gut some of them, but didn’t have the strength to cut off the head. In due time, strength and a sharp blade would serve the boy well.
During the fight within Cheyenne Mountain, Terry’s knife was duller than it should have been and it cost him time. In a fight with a Forsaken, the last thing there was to waste was time. He’d never sheathed a dull blade after that, meticulously caring for his one tool that had been effective against all his enemies. His trusty bullwhip was a close second.
“Oh, no,” Char said, eyes unfocused as she reached out with her senses. Terry knew the look only too well.
“How far?” Terry asked.
“A ways, but he’s still here,” Char replied.
“I guess we had best get back, then. We have a bear hunt to prepare for.”
CHAPTER FOUR
“What you’re telling me is that you took a plant that was shielded from the EMP and meticulously shut down and it still took you a couple months to bring it online?” Shonna needled Timmons.
“How about you go fuck yourself!” Timmons replied angrily. The others laughed. “Yeah, very funny. We have some fifteen thousand gallons of fuel oil on hand. It’d be nice if we had a few tanker loads, but we need power to fill the pipeline and then pump it in here. That’s just until we get the Mini Cooper online.”
Ted wanted to show off his baby, and they wanted to see it. They had left the plant and stopped by the main building to pick up Sue when they heard the Were-tiger’s scream.
Ted listened for an instant before running at Werewolf speed toward the sound. “I’m coming!” he yelled.
The others bolted after him. They charged through a section of downed fence and straight toward where they sensed the Were-tiger.
Ted bellowed unintelligibly. The others caught up to him as a Were-tiger launched itself from a branch into the wolf pack. Ted dove and intercepted the creature mid-leap. They tangled and rolled across the ground. The other Werewolves ran into the mix and pulled the Were-tiger off Ted, who suffered from a bite on his shoulder and scratches down his back.
He groaned as the others held the tiger’s legs and punched it mercilessly. It struggled and screamed, unable to dig its fangs into anyone. The Were-tiger changed back into human form. Timmons punched the man in the side of his head, knocking him out.
The wolf pack growled as Ted struggled to his feet.
***
Terry was quiet as he trimmed the sail to get the most speed from the port-side wind. Progress was slower on the southern leg than it had been going north. Char was reclining, her shirt pulled up to expose her body to the sun. Kae and Terry had their shirts off as they both hung on to the tiller.
“Relax,” Char said. Her eyes were closed, but she knew her husband was anxious.
“It’s hard,” he admitted, checking the wind and trimming the sail two more clicks.
“Now you know. We’ll set something up when we get back, and then we’ll go say hi to our neighbor. Until then, enjoy the sun, the sea, and your sunbathing wife.” Char smiled. Terry imagined her wearing sunglasses and a small bikini.
“Is that a baby bump?” Terry asked, looking closely.
“Yes, four months left to D-Day,” she replied.
“Four! It should be eight,” Terry argued.
“Don’t refer to our offspring as it, please. Werewolves have a shorter gestation period. You might not want to blink, you may miss it.” Terry sat there slack-jawed.
“Men…” Char lamented.
“Well, roll me i
n butter and fry me as a fritter!” Terry exclaimed.
Char opened her eyes and studied her grinning husband. “Where the hell did that linguistic assault on the senses come from?”
“Sorry, I was spending time with some of the survivors from the mountain. There were a few who referred to themselves as good ol’ boys.” Terry smiled, showing his perfect teeth.
“Don’t ever say that again. Ever,” she suggested, shutting her eyes and arching her back against the boat. Terry forgot about everything besides what was right in front of him.
“Yes, dear,” he whispered, enjoying her beauty.
***
The Werewolf pack carried Aaron’s unconscious form back to the base and deposited him on the floor of Billy’s office. The wolf pack waited outside while the humans went into the building. The population of New Boulder was not used to having a wolf pack in their midst so there was tension in the air.
The pack wasn’t too keen on the idea of so many humans, either, but Ted kept them calm. It helped that the humans shied away from the pack as it loped from here to there.
Aaron stirred and Shonna threw his clothes at him.
He looked around before reaching up to feel the bruises on his face. “I fear that I’ve made a mess of things, haven’t I?” It wasn’t a question. The scowls on the faces of the others told him everything he needed to know.
“I’ll get my things and go,” he said, shrugging into his clothes.
“You’ll do no such thing,” croaked an old woman’s voice. They turned as Autumn Dawn shuffled in, helped by the young man who’d been with Aaron. “If your wolves hadn’t attacked this young man, he would not have had to defend himself.”
Aaron remembered the wolf pack closing in and nothing else. He couldn’t be a witness at his own trial.
“Is that true?” Billy Spires asked.
The group looked to Ted for an answer. He shifted uncomfortably in his torn clothing. The healing process was underway, but Ted was still in pain. “Yes, but they saw him as a mountain cat. Everyone knows that wolves and cats don’t get along.”
Nomad's Fury: A Kurtherian Gambit Series (Terry Henry Walton Chronicles Book 5) Page 3
