Gene and Bogdan both worked their way through the door, before Gene decided the inside of the plant was no place for the grizzly cub. He leaned down to talk with the bear, then pushed the door open as Bogdan went outside.
“Were you speaking Russian to him?” Ted wondered.
“Of course, my small friend. All bears speak Russian!” Ted dodged out of the way as Gene attempted to slap him on the back.
“No. No, they don’t,” Ted tried to say while staying out of the Were-bear’s reach.
CHAPTER TEN
“Dude, this is boring as shit,” Boris sneered, looking at the ground, then the way ahead, and back at the ground. Adams scrunched his face in frustration.
“Why are you telling me?”
“Because the colonel said you never whine to the troops, that if you have to cry, do it to the next one up the chain, and that’s you,” Boris explained.
“I can follow that logic. Is this where I’m supposed to placate you with something exciting while agreeing with you heart and soul?” Adams knew how the game was played. He didn’t enjoy playing it, but it was turning into a long walk.
A really long walk and he was bored out of his mind, too.
“They say that peace in one’s soul comes from peace of mind.” Adams peered at Boris through one eye, wondering if he bought it. The look on the young man’s face suggested he saw it for what it was.
“That’s bullshit, and I know bullshit after stepping in it for the last thousand miles. What? Is that supposed to make me feel less bored? Here I am in the middle of nowhere, bored and being fed bullshit.” Boris would have continued if Adams hadn’t stopped him.
“It was worth a try,” Adams conceded, before biting the inside of his lip. “What do you want to be when you grow up, Boris?”
“I have no idea, Adams. I’m not sure I like this—” Boris swept his hand around him, taking in the cattle and a barren horizon. “—but I do like this.” He finished by pointing at his uniform shirt.
“The Force de Guerre. I guess I’ve been drafted into it as well because of Char. I think it’s a good thing, but don’t have much experience with Terry and what he expects. I have an idea, but prefer to hear what you have to say. You’ve been with him from the start, right?” Adams looked intently at the corporal, curious and suddenly hungry for the information.
“I was the second group. He beat the fuck out of me as part of my interview. What do you think of that?” Boris chuckled inwardly, shaking his head and smiling. “I was an arrogant prick, told him that I was the last of the Marines. I didn’t know that he had been in the Marines. I have no idea how old he is, but damn, before I knew it, I was flat on my back and choking on my own tongue.”
Adams nodded slowly, wondering why the man thought back to that moment with such affection.
Boris continued. “The colonel is about personal honor. Say what you’re going to do, then do it in order to build trust. Selfless service. Be the biggest and the baddest, ready to bring down the thunder on anyone who threatens our people, all the while praying to God that we don’t have to kill anyone. I know, it seems weird. The colonel said that if we have to use force, we’ve already failed. And then he goes to war against those Vampires.”
Adams’s breath caught in his throat and he pinched his lips together. His eyes misted as he was instantly taken back to the mountain. Thank God for Terry Henry Walton and Charumati, otherwise he’d be dead, too. Part of him died in that mountain, but part of him had lived.
His alphas had come to his rescue and delivered the vengeance he wished he could have been there for. It was because he wasn’t fast enough, he and Xandrie weren’t disciplined enough.
“I guess we all need to learn how to fight better,” Adams said softly, his mind still in the mountain where his body was broken and covered in blood.
“Yeah, we have a lot to learn. Maybe instead of playing chuck the rock, we practice, man-to-man combat?” Boris suggested, looking at Adams hopefully.
“One round of chuck the rock, then we break off, maybe bring the oldest Weathers boys, the oldest Eli kid, too, maybe even some of the braves. This is a hard world. There’s nothing wrong with being able to defend yourself, make a good showing at least. Isn’t that part of personal honor, pride in your own abilities?”
Boris wasn’t sure. He needed to think about that. “Pride, not arrogance, as I learned the hard way.” Boris pushed Adams playfully. “A smart dude once told me that peace of mind is found in soul food.”
***
James stood at the head of the platoon in front of their new barracks. Mark was in the back leading third squad, a sad looking Blackbeard standing next to him. Corporal Lacy was at the front left of the formation as the squad leader in charge of first squad. They were standing at attention as the colonel and major arrived.
A lone civilian stood behind the formation. Terry went to her first.
“What are you doing here, Kiwi?” he asked, coming across as judgmental, which wasn’t his intent. The young woman looked hurt as she wondered how to answer.
“I’m sorry, that’s not what I meant. It is always good to see you. How is your grandmother?” He placed a gentle hand on her shoulder as he waited patiently for an answer.
She stood tall and proud. “She is well, thank you. Gerry and I will be married on the rest day. We would be honored if you would be there.”
“We wouldn’t miss that for the world and congratulations again, Horse Master Kiwidinok.” Terry took his hand from her shoulder and held it out for her to shake. She gripped it in two hands and smiled.
“Autumn Dawn has asked me to be a part of our native delegation, participate in the meetings to represent our people,” she said in a low voice, looking left and right to make sure no one was near, before she added in a conspiratorial tone. “I have no idea what I’d be doing there.”
“Report!” Char called from the front of the platoon. Terry felt like he’d missed something and was instantly anxious, ready to run to the front of the formation. Control, Char had said. He didn’t need to control every little thing.
“First and third squads all present. Second squad remains on detached duty somewhere near the Wastelands,” James reported boldly.
Char was filling her role as executive officer, being the major that he’d promoted her to. Terry turned back to Kiwi. “Watch what the elders do, understand why they do it, and then you’ll see how they can guide you without telling you what to do. Actions mean more than words.”
“Gerry and I have been watching you and Char. We want our relationship to be like yours, equal partners, which is a good lesson for my people. I think it would make them better, stronger,” Kiwi said, drifting off as she thought about how that would appear to the other members of her tribe.
“Sounds like you already understand what you want to get out of life. It’s not a destination, but a journey. You will inspire many others to do what you have done, command your own purpose.” Terry looked into her brown eyes, studying her. The rebellious youth from months ago was gone, replaced by a mature young woman deciding on her own path forward.
“Open ranks,” James bellowed, “march!” First squad took two steps forward. “Side straddle hops, on my count…”
Char walked casually around the formation.
“Slacking off, Major?” Terry asked, smiling at his beautiful XO.
“I won’t dignify that with a response, although you should probably get your weak ass into formation and PT with the rest of them. I’ll be along shortly. Since I’m maid of honor in the upcoming wedding, we have some things to talk about.” Char made a shooing motion with her hand, while smiling and wrapping the other arm around Kiwi to pull her close for a hug.
“Where am I when you are doing all this stuff, talking with all the people, knowing everything?” Terry complained. He looked confused.
Char shooed him away a second time, preferring to keep the key to her success secret. She ushered Kiwi farther from the formation. Terry s
aw Aaron and Kae standing to the side and waved for both of them to join him.
When they arrived, he started doing jumping jacks—what the military called side-straddle hops—in time with the rest of the platoon. Kaeden was no stranger to calisthenics. Aaron was, looking very much like a flamingo as he jumped out of rhythm.
Terry couldn’t watch.
A movement coming toward the formation caught his eye. He saw First Sergeant Blevin in a shuffling run with Corporal Heitz and a couple of the other drivers.
Blevin ran up to Terry and saluted. “I’m sorry, sir. I didn’t know we had a formation otherwise I would have been here on time. My fault completely. I won’t let it happen again. We were coming to get chow before starting work in the motor pool. That’s when we realized we were AWOL,” the first sergeant said breathlessly as his chest heaved trying to suck in more air.
“Get with Sergeant James after PT and make sure he keeps you informed. We’ve got individual combat training this morning which could be a little rough. You can watch, but I can’t have my A-Team getting hurt!” Terry smiled at them, showing his pleasure that they’d joined the formation. He waved them to take their places at the back of the formation.
“At ease!” he called when the exercise stopped and walked to the front. “You’ve met First Sergeant Blevin and our good people from the motor pool. They are the Motor Transport Platoon, with the first sergeant in charge. They will be kept informed of everything we do. They are, as of this moment, active and honored members of the Force de Guerre.”
Blevin waved to the platoon. He had no idea what was in store for his first day back on active duty.
***
Gene sniffed the air with his bear snout, using the heightened senses of his Were form to take in his surroundings. Bogdan lay half off the mattress, snorting in his sleep. Gene kicked the cub with his massive paw. The grizzly woke up for a second, then rolled over, snuffling and smacking his bear lips.
Gene stretched, then changed into his human form and got dressed. He looked at the bear cub. “You shed like goat!” he told his new friend. It was the middle of winter, but had yet to get cold. It was far cooler than the Wastelands, but to the grizzly, it was time to shed his winter coat.
The home they’d been given was at the very edge of the base, closest to the overgrown golf course on the southern side. Gene went behind the house to relieve himself. The grizzly cub joined him, sniffing at the puddle that Gene left behind, before following him as the large man headed for the chow hall, where he’d been told he could get his meals.
He noted that a number of the Werewolves and the Were-tiger were in the open area in front of the kitchen and dining area, but his fellow nuke wasn’t there. Gene saw that Ted was still in his quarters, as was Timmons, the engineer. He shrugged since he didn’t really care what all the others were doing, but he also felt something different.
A Forsaken approaching from the big city. He thought about telling Terry Henry Walton, but decided not to bother. If the Werewolves couldn’t sense him, then they deserved what they got.
Gene set out. Breakfast sounded good, something prepared by someone else sounded even better. He couldn’t remember the last time he didn’t catch or find his own food.
It had been too long.
Bogdan followed happily, sniffing at places where the wolf pack had marked. The pack was in the woods behind the house he’d been given. He watched them in his mind for a moment. Once certain they were keeping their distance, he continued his long strides toward the chow hall.
There was a great deal of noise from the human contingent in the square. Gene stopped and watched, recognizing the military calisthenics. He grimaced thinking back to his time in the Russian Army where the workouts were ridiculous. His real workouts were orders of magnitude better. Getting juiced by the team doctors didn’t hurt either and accounted for his massive size. That was before the Kurtherian changes made to his body which turned him into a Were-bear.
And he grew even bigger, to the point of being a monster, assuring him that he wouldn’t fit in anywhere. After the WWDE, he’d migrated across the pole and into Canada. It wasn’t an easy trip, but he had to leave the nuclear wasteland of Russia.
The trip. His mind drifted back.
The polar bear had surged from the ocean onto the ice flow that Yevgenniy was riding. The ice shifted from the weight of the dripping white beast. In the Arctic, polar bears were at the top of the food chain.
Gene didn’t care. As a Were-bear, he was every bit as big as the great white predator. Gene crouched and roared. The polar bear roared back and ambled forward two quick steps, trying to drive his next meal backwards. Gene held his ground, paws firmly braced on the ice pack.
He waited. The polar bear inched forward. With a powerful lunge, Gene launched himself at the polar bear, driving his front claws into the beast’s thick neck. He held tightly to keep the white jaws away from him.
The polar bear rolled backward and brought up his back claws to rake down Gene’s stomach, shredding the flesh and tearing into the muscle. The bear’s front paws latched onto Gene’s front legs and that was when the Were-bear knew that a change of tactics was in order.
He drove with his back legs and once the polar bear was off balance, Gene twisted and forced it to the ice. The floe bobbed dangerously, threatening to dump both fighters into the ocean, a place where Gene didn’t want to be.
Gene raked his claws through the white fur, the blubber, and into the neck muscles. He dug deeper and deeper as the polar bear roared in pain. The Arctic cold disappeared as both bears fought for their lives.
In the end, one would feed on the other to survive.
Gene’s arms were starting to go numb from the loss of blood; the nanocytes weren’t keeping up. He needed to finish the fight and feed. With a surge of power, he twisted the polar bear’s head, but even with his great strength, the polar bear’s neck was unbreakable.
The great white beast growled and panted from the pressure Gene was putting on its throat. The ice floe tipped and they slid to the edge. He clamped down on the bear’s throat with his remaining strength. Polar bears could hold their breath for an extended period of time, but not in the middle of an epic battle.
It flailed to throw Gene off, trying to remove the pressure, keeping it from taking a breath. With one last push, Gene drove both of them over the edge and into the freezing water. The Were-bear let up on the other beast’s throat, but stayed underwater with it until it gulped water into its lungs, filling them for one last flail before it stilled. Gene started swimming for the surface.
Blood trailed from the horrible wounds on Gene’s body, a string of his entrails floated lazily in the water as he fought against the water and his own exhaustion. He dragged the loser to the floe, pulling himself up first, then muscled the polar bear onto the ice after him. Gene stuffed his own guts back in through the wound, which made him retch violently.
He recovered enough to disembowel the polar bear, and Gene stuffed himself, then he snuggled halfway beneath it, using its wet fur for warmth.
He lay there holding the wound on his stomach to help them while they healed, all the while hoping that another predator couldn’t smell the blood.
He could only hope that there wasn’t one nearby as he passed out.
Gene came back to himself as Bogdan recognized the human called Blackbeard. The grizzly cub ran to meet his friend. Then the child, Kaeden, intercepted the bear and the free-for-all commenced. Blackie broke ranks and Char dismissed the platoon so they could play with the bear cub.
Terry and Char met Gene halfway across the square. Gene looked at the pair before turning to Terry. “Forsaken come up road from city. Be here in ten minutes.”
“Thanks. We were expecting him. It’s good to see he’s on time. This one owes us for not killing him,” Terry replied casually, watching to gauge Gene’s reaction. “Do you have a problem with the Forsaken?”
Terry was curious. The answer seemed to always
be universally negative.
“Who doesn’t have problem with Forsaken?” Gene’s voice boomed and echoed. “You have big guns and army. We have no problem with Vampire. Come, we eat now.” Gene turned and walked past the scrum that was the bear cub and half the platoon. The older men of Motor T were less inclined toward wrestling and followed Gene toward the dining facility.
Aaron extracted Kaeden from the pile and joined Terry and Char standing to the side.
“Sergeant James! Chow for the next ten minutes,” Terry called and watched the platoon break contact and run for the chow hall where Claire, Antioch, Mrs. Grimes, or Margie Rose would be waiting to dish out something from the communal food supply.
CHAPTER ELEVEN
“More food, woman!” Gene bellowed at Mrs. Grimes from the other side of the serving counter. He leaned as far over the top as he could to get closer to the old woman. She stayed put, pulled out her wood spoon, and rapped him on the nose. He stood there in shock so she slapped his nose a second time.
Terry and Char each grabbed a massive arm and yanked the Were-bear backwards.
“He really does need a little more than the rest of us,” Terry said, feeling the man’s muscles vibrate in anger. “He can have mine.”
“And mine,” Char offered.
Gene shoved his tray back across the line and Margie Rose slopped two additional servings on top of what was already there. Mashed green something took up half the tray and mystery meat filled the other half.
These were the best meals they were going to get until the farms started producing, and that was months away.
“Here, dear, we can’t have you go hungry. This is for the little one!” Margie Rose said with a grin, peeking at Char’s mid-section. Char obliged by pulling up her shirt to show her baby bump. The old woman giggled and called Claire from the kitchen.
Kae wondered when he was going to get fed. He held his tray up and nothing was happening. Margie Rose apologized profusely when she saw the little man. He received extra meat, because growing boys and all that. Terry looked hopefully at the two serving trays.
Nomad's Fury: A Kurtherian Gambit Series (Terry Henry Walton Chronicles Book 5) Page 8
