They loaded the horses and began walking. Five people and eight horses headed west, staying close to the river to take frequent breaks, but they still spent a long time in the saddle. Lacy almost fell off twice, so Gerry rode with her to hold her in place.
They had used some of Devlin’s clothes as bandages and bundled James’s ribs tightly. James gritted his teeth. The act of riding, even at a walk, was painful.
They ran out of food at the end of the second day. They went without on the third day. No one talked as the horses ambled ahead, having eaten little themselves. There was plenty of water and they knew they’d survive, but misery kept their stomachs company.
On the fourth day, they caught up to Antioch, Claire, and their family. The cows had decided that they weren’t going to walk any further and the poor people didn’t have the energy to encourage them.
The worst part was that the town ahead was only a couple miles away. Within, there was a lake and grass. Terry and Char gave up their horses and they mounted the Weathers family, all fourteen of them, on five horses and told them to ride ahead.
“Geronimo, you’re in charge since you know where you’re going. Take these people to the lake, we’ll be along shortly with the cattle,” Terry ordered.
“Yes, sir!” the young man replied. “Colonel? What happens if you don’t show up?”
“Then ride back out here and get us. The cows leave an unmistakable trail.” Terry slapped the horse’s rump and watched as Geronimo led the horses toward the ruins of the town ahead.
Terry, Char, and Clyde climbed down the riverbank and helped themselves to a drink of water.
“So, we’re just going to run around and slap cow butts to get them to move?” Char asked, knowing that wasn’t what Terry had in mind.
“I thought we could encourage them in a slightly different way,” Terry said, casually running one finger down the buttons of her shirt.
“Really? We’re going to make love and that will get the cows running?”
Terry leaned back. “No. I was thinking a little Werewolf action, stampede them right up the river,” he said, happy with himself.
“Listen, I don’t Werewolf at your beck and call. Who is whose pet here?” Char asked.
“No one is anyone’s pet!” Terry crossed his arms and stood tall. Char smirked at him.
“Colonel.”
“Major.”
“Do you really think of me as a sheep dog?” Char asked, hands on her hips, defiant. “I get it! I’m just an asset. Well, Terry Henry Walton, you can kiss this asset goodbye. Get the cows yourself!”
Char turned and stormed off.
“Get the fuck back here! What the hell do you think you’re doing? These cattle are life and fucking death for a whole community!”
Char kept walking. Terry ran past her, then turned and blocked her way.
“Let me by,” she demanded.
He stood there, mouth set and arms crossed.
Not the best stance to start a fight, as he found out. Char casually took one step forward, then swung an uppercut that caught him below his crossed arms, lifting him off the ground and throwing him backwards.
She dove after him, but he’d gotten his legs up and she landed on his feet. Terry threw her over his head. He rolled and stood, ready in his fighting stance.
Char’s eyes glowed purple with her fury. She charged and he dodged to punch as she passed, but it was a feint. She sidestepped with him at the last moment and he found himself face to face with someone who was stronger and faster.
She lashed out repeatedly toward his head and he blocked most, but too many punches still got through. He tried to put more space between them, but Char was relentless.
He dropped straight down, throwing his head one way and twisting, sweeping a leg through her knees. Char buckled and fell backwards. Terry ran five steps ahead and turned, crouching.
“Would you fucking stop!?” Terry yelled. She approached in a combat stance. Terry’s adrenaline was surging. “I have no idea what the fuck I did to set you off, but if this is what you want, so be it.”
She angled in, but he wouldn’t let himself get pinned. She came straight, ducked left, dodged right, went low with a sweep of her own. Terry jumped it, but when he came down, she was already standing and swinging.
He blocked the first punch, but the second to his groin doubled him over, gasping and gagging. She wrapped an arm around his throat, then pulled and rolled. He flew over top of her and slammed into the ground. Char straddled him, as she reached for his throat, but he caught her wrists.
Char ducked down to bite his fingers. Terry pulled her hands closer and head-butted the bridge of her nose. Stunned for an instant, Terry took advantage and rolled, pinning her beneath him.
He kept his knees spread to maintain leverage as he held her wrists.
“Calm the fuck down!” he begged her. Char’s eyes stopped glowing and started sparkling anew. “What did I do?”
“You assumed,” she replied in a calm voice. Blood ran from her nose and down her cheeks. It filled her new scar before continuing to her neck.
Terry rocked back to his feet and stood, pulling Char upright with him.
“What?” he asked, confused.
“Why didn’t you just ask me? Of course I’ll Werewolf for you, if you only ask and are ready for me to say no, just in case. But you assumed, made all the decisions, didn’t you, Colonel?” Char raised her eyebrows to make her point.
“But it was the logical thing to do. I thought you would have already figured it out,” Terry countered weakly.
“Listen here, Mister Terry Henry Walton, don’t try that ‘don’t be stupid’ routine on me. We think of different things in different ways, so never assume anything. If you have any intention of courting me, it’s as an equal partner, do you get me?” She angled her head, mouth set, and glared at him.
“Court you?” Terry asked, earning him a punch in the chest.
Char grabbed his collar and pulled his face down to hers. He didn’t resist. She brushed her lips over his, across his cheek, and to his ear. “You need to stop fucking around, TH. You are missing out on an awful lot of what makes life worth living,” she whispered.
Terry pinched his eyes shut. A wife, a child, both dead. His heart torn apart. His soul blackened. The nanocytes kept him alive so he could relive his failure to protect them, over and over. When Margie Rose’s one kind act freed him from his abyss, he committed to bring civilization back to humanity.
He didn’t deserve anything for himself. At least that was what he’d been telling himself. He opened the door just a crack and peeked in to see if there was any room left in civilization for him, enough humanity for Terry to experience some for himself.
“Is this how it works in Werewolf land? If you like someone, you beat the holy crap out of them?” he finally asked, running one hand over his battered face and caressing Char’s neck with the other.
She chuckled. “Kind of, but not really. You made me mad.”
“And you punched me in the balls,” he answered. “Even?”
Terry stepped back and offered to shake hands, secure the truce, but Char pulled him back to her. She closed her eyes, one hand on his cheek. He leaned down, wrapping his arms around her as their lips met.
The fire. The surge in emotions. The pain.
“Ow!” he exclaimed. “My lips hurt.”
“Mine, too, you big bully. How dare you punch me in the face!”
Char stripped, trying to make a show for Terry, but she was too stiff and sore. Terry didn’t think he’d had an effect during the fight, but her body was covered in bruises. He almost felt bad, but remembered his own pain and how the nanocytes were working overtime to repair the damage.
She changed into a sleek brown Werewolf, then nuzzled him and he scratched behind her ears, caressed her sides. Clyde started barking from the riverbank.
For the first time ever, Char dropped into play pose, challenging Clyde, who started barking up a
storm. She raced up the bank after him and the two ran into the waste, frolicking.
“May you live in interesting times,” he told himself.
EPILOGUE
Billy watched a menagerie of people and cows strolling up the road. He turned his head back toward the house. “Felicity!” he yelled. “You might want to come out here.”
Felicity appeared, pulling her jacket tightly around her. Billy wrapped a protective arm around her as the group approached. Terry and Char were in the middle, leading horses that carried three people each.
They heard someone yelling and whistling in the back of the group to keep the cows soldiering on. Billy and Felicity took positions astride the flower beds to keep them from getting trampled, although the horses made their way unerringly to them with each visit.
Clyde ran ahead to greet Billy and Felicity, getting his head petted by each, before getting pushed away when he tried to stuff his nose between Felicity’s legs. She kicked at him as he ran off. The rabbit population required his attention.
“We brought some company,” Terry offered with a smile, and then introduced Antioch and Claire, who chased the kids from the horses as they dismounted. They lined up the twelve youngsters, who looked warily at the men carrying rifles.
Mark saluted and Terry returned it. “Stand down and disband the guard!” Terry ordered.
Billy clapped his hands and then slapped Terry on the shoulder. He turned to Char and stopped. “What happened to you?”
“Marcus was a little harder to put down than your average rabid dog,” she replied coldly.
“I see,” Billy said, examining the scar. “A shame.”
Char held her head up, proudly, radiantly. Terry couldn’t help but smile.
“Billy, the only thing changed is we are safer than we were. That’s what matters. What do you say we put up the Weathers family by the road south. There are two fields to put the cattle into. Fatten them up and encourage them to procreate. You have to know something about animal husbandry, don’t you, Billy?” Terry jibed.
“I am sure that I should be offended, but you are such a hunk of man candy, Terry Henry Walton, that I can find no anger to throw your way,” Felicity drawled. Terry beamed his best smile. Even though his face still hurt from the pounding Char had given him, the bruises were gone.
Terry turned serious and looked at Billy. “We lost Devlin, and Lacy took a shot to the head. She’s got a concussion. James has some broken ribs, but is on the mend. Everyone did well. They stood tall before the enemy,” Terry reported.
“He was a big fucker,” Billy said sympathetically.
“Yeah, something like that, but we found really good people out there. Antioch, Claire, and their kids are going to help us grow,” Terry suggested, sweeping an arm to take in the big family. The old couple nodded and smiled. “We could use some food. It was a rough trip out of the Wastelands for them.”
Billy sent Mark and Boris to load up from one of the freezers. Antioch sent his older children to help.
When they returned, it was time for everyone to go their own way.
“Mark, take the members of the Force to the barracks and get them and the horses settled. The major and I will show this good people their new home and fields, and then we’ll find you first thing tomorrow and get back on track with the training.”
“Where are you going to take us next, TH?” Billy asked. Terry bristled as he did not yet consider Billy a friend, although the smaller man was growing on him.
He paused, then decided to let it go.
“I have some ideas,” Terry said, leaving everything unsaid. “We’ll be by sometime tomorrow.”
Terry turned before Billy could reply. He and Char helped Claire and Antioch onto the horses. The group slowly moved on, horses, people, and cows heading toward a new life.
* * *
“We don’t have what we need, no matter how much you yell and stamp your feet!” Merrit told Timmons for the third time.
“I want to blow shit up!” he howled.
“We both do, but we need to go at this a little different way. How about a nitrate bomb? We can build us a cart to haul the damn thing and then, kaboom!” Merrit suggested, smiling.
They sat within an old lab of the Air Force Academy. Debris from the ruined building had blocked the entrance. They’d spent days clearing it before finally gaining access. The lab was mostly intact because it had been inaccessible, but the chemicals were in a poor state. They hadn’t kept well for twenty years.
The petroleum-based liquids, those things that Timmons wanted most, had either evaporated, gotten contaminated with moisture, or the container had failed. Some other chemicals were surprisingly intact, having been stored better or maybe just luckier.
“Can we make gunpowder?” Timmons asked.
“We can always make gunpowder, but we need to dig up a few other chemicals that we should be able to find in the hills. Electricity would be nice to help us grind the ingredients,” Merrit suggested.
“Then that’s what we need to do,” Timmons said, far more calmly. Even if it took a month, at least they would be working toward something more than just eating and existing. There was plenty for every member of the pack to do. Saltpeter, sulfur, and charcoal, all ground to a fine powder.
Timmons didn’t know why he had fixated on TATP or TNT, when something like gunpowder was significantly easier to produce and would fill the gap until they had something more powerful.
If anyone tried to challenge his leadership, he’d be ready. If Marcus returned, he’d be ready for him, too. They were going to build a new world, where Werewolves were at the center. No one could stand up to them. The Forsaken, TQB, and all the rest. They hadn’t heard from them in decades. They were all gone, just like everyone else. Timmons’s lip curled as he snarled at those who had gone before, those who had hung him and his pack out to dry. He accepted the challenge to rectify that.
“Time to get to work,” Timmons told his fellow Werewolf.
The End of Nomad Redeemed
Terry Henry Walton will return in Nomad Unleashed, February 2017
Author Notes - Craig Martelle
Written January 9th, 2017
I'm a lifelong daydreamer and student of human interaction. I have some degrees, but those don't matter when it comes to telling the story. Engaging characters within a believable narrative- that's what it’s all about. I live in the interior of Alaska, far away from an awful lot, but I love it here. It is natural beauty at its finest.
We love Alaska, but sometimes you just have to get away. We spent a week in Hawai’i while the final edits were taking place on Nomad Redeemed in early January, 2017. Alaska is so cold and dark, it takes going somewhere light and warm to recharge the bodies and power through the rest of winter.
So we did, but that didn’t hold us back from reaching out and working to make Nomad Redeemed a worthy successor to Nomad Found. Plus, I was able to start Nomad Unleashed while on the plane here. I had to flesh out a few ideas and get the story off right with a little action, a little insight into where Terry is taking the Force de Guerre.
Yes, my style is a little different from Michael’s and this story arc starts in a post-apocalyptic world, but eventually, the FDG will make it into space as a group that Bethany Anne can send to the universe’s hot spots that don’t rise to the attention of the Queen’s Bitches.
In the interim, Terry needs to help bring the world back to a civilized state. Much work to do and only a limited amount of time – only 130 years!
Thank you to those who’ve read Nomad Found and left reviews! You warm my heart, and I listen to your comments. We’ll continue to improve the three-dimensional view of the characters as you’ve asked while keeping the action going. It is a dynamic world in which TH and Char live.
Diane Velasquez and Dorene Johnson are perpetually ready to lend a helping hand by reading a passage and telling me how it resonates. Kat Lind has been a force of nature in making me a better writer becau
se she makes me want to be a better writer. Some of my newest readers are making this a fun trip, along with some stalwart folks who joined me in the Free Trader series – Sherry Foster, Melissa Ratcliffe, Norman Meredith, Nipa Jhaveri, Heath Felps, and so many more. If I left you off, it was unintentional and everyone deserves a mention.
The editor and publisher of my post-apocalyptic End Times Alaska series is also on board and working to make sure that the final book of that series comes out at the same time as Nomad Redeemed. Thank you! Monique Happy Lewis for keeping my books relevant in both the traditionally published and self-published world. A rising tide floats all boats, as I like to say.
And one final thank you to Michael Anderle for driving this train. The Kurtherian Gambit is a great series with an endless universe of stories. I appreciate the opportunity to fill in one small gap of time in one tiny place on the third rock from the sun.
Peace to all – time to get back to work on Nomad Unleashed. TH & Char have city-states to dismantle and rebuild. So much work to do, but with the power of a bullwhip and keen minds, they have a plan…
If you liked this story, you might like some of my other books.
You can join my mailing list by dropping by my website www.craigmartelle.com or if you have any comments, shoot me a note at [email protected]. I am always happy to hear from people who’ve read my work. I try to answer every email I receive.
If you liked the story, please write a short review for me on Amazon. I greatly appreciate any kind words, even one or two sentences go a long way. The number of reviews an ebook receives greatly improves how well an ebook does on Amazon.
Amazon – www.amazon.com/author/craigmartelle
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Thank you for reading Nomad Found!
Nomad Redeemed: A Kurtherian Gambit Series (Terry Henry Walton Chronicles Book 2) Page 16
