Nomad Avenged

by Craig Martelle

  With the company of warriors from the FDG, half the town, and only three pods, someone would have to stay behind.

  Char looked at the determined faces surrounding her. She knew that Terry Henry was well-respected in North Chicago, but the highest honor one can pay is to risk their life for another. None of the people there were concerned about the danger. They knew that something had to be done.

  And they all wanted a part of doing it.

  Akio walked from the pod wearing his usual expression. He dipped his head in recognition of the large number of people in the welcoming party. He expected no less for Terry Henry Walton, but he was at a loss as to how they were going to accommodate all the volunteers.

  The big coonhound pup came close, barking and dipping into play pose, prancing and barking some more. Akio sent a sense of calm to the dog. Clovis relaxed and joined Akio at his side, where the shorter man could easily scratch behind the dog’s ears.

  He waved for Char to join him. Since Cory wasn’t going to leave her mother’s side, she came too. Char held up a hand to prevent a mob from approaching.

  “Charumati-san. Cordelia-san.” Akio bowed thirty degrees to the two women. They bowed in return. “Before you ask, we have not located him yet. Please, follow me.”

  Without a word, they walked onto the shuttle. He stood before a computer screen that was linked through satellites to the system that Eve was operating. The EI was focusing on the eastern half of what used to be the United States.

  A voice came over the pod’s sound system. “I think we have them,” Eve said with a tinge of excitement.

  They watched as Eve zoomed in on open fields off the southern end of Lake Michigan. A small shadow appeared, and after refocusing, the unmistakable shape of a pod filled the screen.

  “Where did a Forsaken get a pod?” Char asked.

  “That, I can’t be sure of, but I think it was the pod that the Sacred Clan stole many, many years ago,” Akio replied. “Eve. Can you track it?”

  “Of course, Akio-san, now that I know what to look for, where to look for it, and when to look. I will piece it together frame by frame. It’s flying low, so I suspect it did not go very much farther,” Eve said before going silent.

  The image remained on the screen while the EI worked her behind- the-scenes magic.

  “I think we need to saddle up,” Cory suggested. Char nodded and the two left the aircraft.

  Char waved the leadership to her. The Were folk came without question. Mark brought the lieutenant, the company gunny, and the platoon sergeants. Blevin climbed out of the jeep and hurried to join the others. Gerry and Kiwi helped the old man and were the final ones to join the mix.

  “You all know what will and won’t fit. I’d love to take everyone, but they all can’t go. The tac team goes, without a doubt. We are going up against Forsaken. How many? I have no idea. What kind of stronghold? No idea. How many human minions? No idea. You get the picture. Opinions, people,” Char demanded. She gritted her teeth and pounded her fist into her hand. Every second was one more second that Terry Henry was captive.

  She found the waiting unbearable.

  “Then it’s important that we go, bring the jeep with the ma deuce, grenades, and rocket launchers,” Blevin suggested helpfully. “Just in case.”

  “More gear means fewer people,” Char replied.

  Mark shuffled his feet and shook his head. “We’ve gone up against Forsaken before. Only you guys have a real chance against them.” Mark nodded toward the pack. “We’ll handle the cannon fodder. We’ll bring two platoons, and that should give us enough room. I think we’ll need the jeep, assuming we don’t have to land in the boonies somewhere. Are they coming?”

  Everyone looked at Ted’s wolf pack. He raised his eyebrows as he looked to Char for confirmation.

  “Not this time, Ted. Sorry,” Char apologized.

  Cory put a hand on his shoulder to comfort him. He didn’t usually like people touching his person, but he always welcomed Cordelia. Her touch brought him peace.

  “They’ll be fine staying here,” Ted said firmly.

  Char looked at the coonhound. “Don’t even,” Cory stated preemptively. Char rolled her eyes.

  “Load the jeep, First Sergeant Blevin. Lacy and you two--” Char pointed to Gerry and Kiwi. “--go with them and ride in that pod. You all spread out.”

  The Weres nodded.

  Timmons and Sue headed toward the second pod. Gene and Aaron remained with Char and Cory. Adams and Merrit joined the group manhandling the jeep into the third pod, which they called number three.

  Shonna and Ted walked toward the second pod, joining Timmons and Sue.

  The look on the faces of those who couldn’t go ranged from anger to soul-crushing despair. Mark didn’t budge. He sent the two platoons to fill in the spaces on the pods. He put the platoons that would remain behind on watch.

  “If we don’t return, who is going to protect these people?” Cory heard Mark say. The thought was sobering. The young woman never contemplated that they wouldn’t come back.

  She wondered why she had such complete faith in Akio. Maybe it was because Akio always brought them home. More likely it was because her father’s loyalty to Akio was complete and unquestioning.

  Cordelia trusted her father like he trusted Akio.

  “Thank you, Akio,” Cory told him when she took her seat. Akio nodded briefly before returning his attention to the screen where Eve was funneling the video composite she was building of the Forsaken’s pod’s flight profile.

  Blackie stayed in pod three with the jeep and the heavy weapons. Those he hand-selected to operate the weapons were squeezed in around the jeep. Blevin and Heitz sat in the front seats of the vehicle, and both were smiling.

  Mark got the thumbs up from Blackie and from the platoon sergeant in the second pod, Sergeant Allison. The captain signaled for pods two and three to button up. He ran up the ramp to the first pod and took his seat next to Joseph. Char acknowledged him before buttoning up the aircraft.

  Akio ordered the pods airborne. They flew slowly away, staying low as they headed over the lake, toward the open water, and then turned south to pick up the trail where Eve first spotted the enemy pod.

  “We will find them, Char-san,” Akio promised as the pod picked up speed.

  Terry’s Prison

  “Ass-grabbing, ball-slapping shitbag!” Terry yelled when Kirkus walked through the door. Terry wasn’t angry. He just wanted the Forsaken to get a clear delivery of what Terry really thought.

  “Good morning to you, too, TH!” Kirkus said happily. “It’s time that we celebrate your first week in your new home.”

  Terry was instantly confused. He flexed his stomach muscles and rotated his shoulder. Had he been there a week, certain injuries would have already healed. He couldn’t believe that he’d been gone more than half a day, and he suspected it was less than that. He’d only eaten three times while in captivity.

  No. Nice mind game, motherfucker. Can you hear me now, cheesedick? Terry thought.

  Kirkus stopped approaching but continued to smile. He raised a hand and snapped his fingers. The Weretiger strolled in. She was in her human form and dressed the same as the first time Terry had seen her.

  “Hi, kitten,” he said in a friendly manner. He had no animosity for her. He wondered how Weretigers got along. Aaron had been alone for a long time. Would he be able to relate to another Weretiger or had the Werewolves and Werebear ruined him?

  Terry chuckled thinking about it. He felt tired but was in good spirits.

  “I have to say, TH, your once-disciplined mind so easily breaks down with a little pain and lack of real sleep. What you would give for a bed,” the Forsaken taunted.

  “Doesn’t quite take a mind-reader to figure that one out, ass-face,” Terry replied casually.

  “Kick him in the balls,” Kirkus ordered.

  The Weretiger hesitated before taking two steps forward, spinning and driving her heel into Terry’s pelv
is, a couple inches from the directed target. Terry grunted and doubled over as much as he could while still chained to the walls.

  He thought of his first mission to China with Akio. They’d gone deep into the mine. He’d been the weak link in the mission, the only one who couldn’t see in the dark, but he’d gone in any way. Terry had been in danger too many times to feel fear like normal people. He had confidence in his own abilities and those who surrounded him.

  His fear was of failure, failing the good people who put their faith in him. Char was brave and undyingly faithful. He knew that he was safe as anyone could be when he was with her. She was a fierce fighter. Now that Cory was grown, she’d redoubled her efforts to train and get better, be more deadly. He thought that she’d become the deadliest killer he’d ever met who wasn’t like Akio or Bethany Anne.

  Terry’s lip curled of its own accord. He yanked on his chains, hoping to snap a link or a bolt. He only needed one arm free, and he’d finish the Forsaken.

  Kirkus laughed. “I think you’ll need more than one arm to deal with me, Colonel Terry Henry Walton. You think you can defeat me with one arm tied behind your back? Maybe we should try it and see.” The Forsaken was no longer smiling.

  The air in the room turned cold as the Forsaken contemplated Terry’s punishment. Kirkus waved the Weretiger to the side as he stepped past her.

  He dove in and punched Terry quickly, jabbing his ribs and hitting his face.

  Terry lashed out with his legs, but the Forsaken blocked them. Kirkus rotated and with extra force, landed the heel of his hand on Terry’s mouth, splitting his lips and loosening a tooth.

  Kirkus stepped back as Terry reeled from the impact. He licked his lips, tasting the blood. “You could be the biggest jagoff I’ve ever met,” Terry slurred as his mouth filled with blood. He spit it at the Forsaken, hoping the nanocytes would have pity and survive long enough outside his body to kill his enemy.

  Kirkus laughed at him and with head raised, strutted from the room, leaving the light on, the door open, and the Weretiger behind.

  “My name is Yanmei,” she said softly, picking up a rag and approaching Terry. She didn’t shy away from his unshackled legs. She didn’t think that she had to.

  She dabbed at his lips, then called for her servant. The petite woman appeared almost immediately carrying a pitcher of water. Yanmei took the pitcher and held it to Terry’s lips. He winced at first contact but drank readily.

  Once the pitcher was drained, Terry slowed his breathing, trying to relax and let the nanocytes do their thing.

  The Weretiger watched him for a few moments and then left.

  CHAPTER TEN

  Flying in the Pod

  Blackie sat next to the young Sergeant Nickles. “It took that pudknocker, General Tsao, five years before he raised his ugly head. We had to go in with the same kind of load out we got today,” Blackie told him.

  “Well before my time, Lieutenant,” the sergeant replied. “That was twenty years ago.”

  The lieutenant recounted the story as they flew, delivering only the highlights.

  Everyone was listening intently to the story. Some had been there, most had not. It had been a long time since the Force de Guerre had destroyed the army of General Tsao.

  “Over a thousand soldiers walked down that road, one hundred and seventeen lived to see the sunrise. That’s the story people need to know. Get on the wrong side of the new world, and the FDG is coming for you, coming to ruin your day. Fuck those guys,” Blackie said without looking at anyone in the pod.

  “To whoever took him? Fuck you! We’re coming, and you ain’t seen nothin’ yet, bitches! Here’s to Terry Henry Walton!” Corporal Max Heitz bellowed with renewed vigor.

  “To Terry Henry Walton!” those in the pod echoed. Adams and Merrit nodded. They were ready to do their part. They were ready to take on the Forsaken who had come into their house in the middle of the night.

  Terry’s Prison

  Terry stood upright, trying to relax. His legs didn’t ache, which told him that he hadn’t been there that long. His shoulder was healing, once again. The nanocytes had already knitted the skin of his lips back together and tightened his teeth. He worked his jaw, loosening it. He’d been clenching it ever since getting punched.

  “Let me out of these chains, pus-wad and we’ll see what you can do in a straight up fight. Jagoffs. All the Forsaken are jagoffs. Maybe it’s in your nature or something. I don’t know. Twits,” Terry said, having a perfectly congenial conversation with himself. Since the lights were on, he took the opportunity to study the eyebolts.

  He flexed and pulled, looking for the slightest movement. He continued working it. Terry was able to hold himself upright and brace his feet on the wall on one side to give himself additional leverage, but the bolt wouldn’t move.

  Terry had been chained into a corner, with his arms stretched to the side and slightly upward. The eyebolts were over his head, on each wall. He had limited movement, not enough to give it a good yank.

  He let himself back down to the floor and found Yanmei leaning in the doorway watching.

  “Hey!” he exclaimed with a scowl. “Don’t you people ever knock?”

  “I would think less of you if you weren’t trying to escape,” she offered.

  “That might matter if I cared what you thought about me. If you release me, then I would care a whole lot,” Terry replied with a half-smile. He saw that she had changed clothes again.

  “Are you twins or something?” he asked.

  “No, just one of me, but my room is not far. I prefer comfort; he prefers the elegant look.”

  Terry wondered why she was trying to become his friend. He wouldn’t mention that it seemed forced. If he did, the Forsaken would be in her mind and see that she had failed. Terry held out hope that he could block the creature.

  In the interim, he decided to play the game. The eyebolts weren’t budging.

  “I can’t release you, because he wouldn’t take it well,” she finally answered. “Care for a game of chess?”

  She produced a board from behind her back.

  “I’m pretty busy,” he started, smiling. She didn’t see the humor in it. “Of course, I’d love to play. It’s been awhile so you’ll have to forgive me until I shake off some of the rust.”

  She set up the board on the floor in front of him. She sat cross-legged and arranged the pieces. “You are the guest. You shall play white.”

  He called out the square for his pawn. Yanmei moved it, and the battle began.

  Yanmei was not a fast player, where Terry had been conditioned with timed play. He had never had time to contemplate moves and countermoves five plays ahead. He could usually think three moves ahead, and that had always been good enough.

  The young-looking woman would make her play, and within seconds, Terry would move. She’d look at the board for several minutes before taking her next turn. What felt like forty-five minutes in and the game was barely underway. Terry took a risk and paid for it, losing a knight and a bishop in rapid succession. He slowed down, but the damage was done.

  He started playing for a draw and succeeded, though he was unhappy that he forced himself into playing a defensive game, but sometimes, as in life, the best one could hope for was a draw.

  She gathered the board and pieces, thanked him for the good game, and left.

  “I’ll be damned,” he told himself when he was alone. “Pleasure and pain. Pain and pleasure. What is this fucker’s game? Play away, Kirkus. I’ll figure your ass out or die trying. You can take that to the bank!”

  Terry was fiercely defiant. Then he realized that there were no banks. They were some of the first things to go after the fall. Food was useful. Money was not. Anything needed to get food was useful. That wasn’t money. Tellers, managers, and security had simply walked away after the WWDE.

  “Nice one, TH. You need some new idiomatic expressions. Maybe you should make your own,” Terry told himself. He thought long and hard,
but nothing came to him.

  A shadow darkened the doorway, and his muscles tightened. It was Yanmei’s servant with a tray of food and water.

  He was angry at how he tensed. Kirkus had scored a point, and he wasn’t even there.

  “I could really use a beer if you have one,” he said softly. She simply shook her head, not understanding what he was saying.

  Flying in the Pod

  Sue, Timmons, Shonna, and Ted sat together in the second pod. The warriors were packed in tightly around them. The space in the middle of the pod was empty. Timmons shook his head.

  “What?” Sue asked.

  “We could have brought some more weapons or more of something. It’s wasted space. Terry would be mad,” Timmons replied.

  “He can be mad after we’ve saved him,” Sue suggested.

  Ayashe released her seatbelt and staggered across the pod to kneel in front of Sue and Timmons. They looked up together.

  “You look worried,” Kiwi and Gerry’s daughter told them.

  “We are always going into combat,” Timmons dodged.

  “No, you aren’t,” she replied.

  “Too smart for your own good,” Sue said, smiling. “This is different, for sure, because we don’t have Terry Henry Walton leading us. There is no finer warrior. He takes no unnecessary risks. His battle plans are meant to minimize our casualties and maximize those of the enemy, while always accomplishing the mission. He is the consummate professional when it comes to war.”

  “And the major isn’t?” Ayashe asked in a young voice.

  “We will follow anywhere she leads, if that answers your question,” Timmons answered.

  “As would we.” Ayashe looked at the perpetually-young faces of the Werewolves. They returned her gaze, waiting for the question they could see she wanted to ask. Her face turned troubled. “What do we do if something happens to the colonel?”

  “We comfort ourselves that we did everything we could to prevent it, then we keep Char from burning the Earth. Her grief will be more than all the rest of ours combined. We help her, and then we move forward, keep civilization from collapsing under the weight of tyranny,” Timmons said.