Nomad's Galaxy: A Kurtherian Gambit Series (Terry Henry Walton Chronicles Book 10)

by Craig Martelle

  He tumbled down the stairs and out of sight.

  The alpha looked at Marcie, surprised and confused. He’d been the big dog for as long as Denver had been a community. And now, his beta was taken out with a single punch from a girl who wasn’t a Were.

  He looked back toward the group around the table. Only three of his pack remained standing. He took one more step and then stars exploded before his eyes. He staggered from the blow Marcie delivered to his temple. He stumbled and fell to his knees. Marcie dragged him to the remains of the table and dumped him unceremoniously on the floor at Char’s feet.

  The other members of the pack took a knee in deference to their superiors.

  “You are my beta now. You do as I tell you, understand?” The former alpha nodded. “My name is Charumati and you are now under the direction of the North American Pack Council. Here.”

  She handed him a comm device.

  “Where did you come from?” he stammered.

  “I could ask you the same question. Now tell me, what are you doing here?”

  “Trade,” he replied simply.

  “More,” Char demanded.

  “The blood trade,” he clarified.

  “Explain.”

  “There are those who need Were blood to heal injuries, get longer life. Vampire blood is the best, but there’s only one source for that. At present, that is. Is that what you are, some kind of new Vamp?” he asked, looking at Marcie.

  Terry’s mouth fell open as he stared dumbly at the defeated alpha. The muscles in Char’s cheeks stood out as she clenched her jaw so tightly.

  Marcie was revolted at the thought of feasting on blood. “Humans are drinking Were blood?” she finally asked.

  “Yes. It’s all the rage,” he said with disdain.

  “No more blood trade. Not in my pack,” Char said in a low and dangerous voice. She grabbed the man by his throat. “No. More.”

  He nodded, unable to speak as he couldn’t draw air into his lungs.

  “The new air route goes through here. We’ll be back often to check on you. Don’t fuck up. It’ll be fatal.” Char backed up one step, looked from bowed head to bowed head, and then turned toward the door, striding away boldly. Terry whistled and waved his arm in a circle over his head.

  His signal that it was time to move out.

  They left the warehouse, recovered the other members of the pack, and started walking back toward the field where the dirigible could be seen in the distance.

  “Whoever comes through here, check up on those knuckleheads. They aren’t going to change. We’ll probably have to break them up or exorcise a couple of them, including the loser that used to be the alpha,” Char said loudly enough for all to hear.

  “Well done, Marcie,” Terry said, draping an arm over his daughter-in-law’s shoulder. “No fanfare. None needed. Let your actions speak for you.”

  He one-arm hugged her before letting her go. Sarah was a bit put out. Kim and Auburn looked at her. “Keep an eye on your Aunt Marcie. See how she does it and follow her lead,” Kim advised.

  “I can do that,” Sarah replied and cozied up next to her Aunt Marcie. Marcie looked at Kimber.

  “You’re welcome,” Kim said, trying not to laugh.

  Chicago

  They landed in North Chicago in the field in front of the old FDG barracks. The mayor was having trouble getting around, but with the help of a jeep, she was able to greet the passengers and crew. They didn’t need to leave a ground crew behind because North Chicago had plenty of manpower.

  Terry and Kimber looked south. “Do you think they’re out there?” she asked.

  “I don’t know.” Terry tried not to project the sadness he felt, but he couldn’t help it. He had grown to enjoy Joseph’s friendship. And no one knew history better. Terry missed their conversations. Terry’s inevitable feelings of failure weighed on him. He hadn’t been there for Joseph and Petricia. And now they were gone.

  “I hope so.” Terry modified his answer. “As long as we have hope, we can keep looking. Someday, he’ll let us find him. I will always have hope that he can forgive me.”

  “There’s nothing for him to forgive,” Kim said, turning toward her father. “Nothing at all. Everyone needs their time to mourn, to energize, to do what they have to do for themselves. It’s no reflection on you or your friendship.”

  “When did you get so smart?”

  “I grew up watching you, and then while you and Mom were gone, I learned what you’d been trying to teach us all along. The older I get, the smarter you were.”

  “I’m going to have to contemplate that one,” Terry answered with a smile. “Thanks, Kimber.”

  They returned to the others. Felicity was glad-handing with the reception committee. Ted never left the dirigible. No one was surprised.

  The Werebears hurried away from the airship, stopping on the small hillside to look west. Auburn joined them. “I smell it, too,”

  “Beef,” Gene said.

  “Saddle up!” Terry yelled as he walked toward the gondola to re-board.

  “I want steak,” Bogdan said gruffly. Gene looked back at Terry.

  “No you don’t!” Terry yelled as Gene and Bogdan started running away from the dirigible. “They’re pulling a runner!”

  Terry took two steps and stopped. “Call for a pod!” he bellowed, using his hands to make a megaphone around his mouth.

  Auburn strolled down the small hill to join the others. “I don’t blame them,” he said. “There’s nothing like a Weathers’ steak, but I may be biased.”

  “All aboard!” Terry yelled. The dirigible floated majestically above the field. The gravitic engines held it an easy two feet off the ground. A stool had been placed for the passengers. Two ground crew remained to train the people from North Chicago in their duties and to arrange food deliveries for whenever the Spires Transcontinental or its sister ships passed through.

  The pack loaded up, while Fu waited. “Oh crap,” Terry whispered. Fu did not look happy. She carried a large bag of their stuff. When her husband and son ran off, she’d packed quickly.

  Felicity called for Ayashe. “Would you mind taking Fu to intercept her wayward family? I believe they are headed for the stockyards.”

  The jeep drove close and Fu bowed in appreciation of the ride. Terry took the bag from her and loaded it into the jeep. With one last wave, they drove away.

  “They don’t smoke as much as they used to,” he observed.

  “Only the smoke coming from Fu’s ears,” Felicity offered.

  “It’ll be the worst beating he will have ever gotten, I suspect.”

  Terry waited until everyone else was aboard before handing the footstool in and jumping through the door. He secured it behind him. The ground handlers cast off the lines and the dirigible started to climb as it headed east over Lake Michigan.

  CHAPTER TWENTY-ONE

  Pittsburgh

  “Why in the hell would anyone ever want to go to Pittsburgh?” Char complained in classic New York style.

  “The Steelers and the Penguins,” Terry replied, expecting that would end any discussion on the issue.

  “You don’t even like sports,” she shot back.

  “I didn’t used to, but now that they are history, I think they’re worth studying, especially since they were powerhouse franchises. They were winners. The Patriots, Packers, Cowboys, Forty-Niners, all cemented their place in history.”

  “So did the Buffalo Bills.” Char nodded to further emphasize her point.

  “Ouch! Batting oh-fer-zero-point-zero. They are indeed in the record books on the wrong side of history!” Terry laughed. “Three rivers, great for industry and trade. It was a big place in the French and Indian War. I wonder if any of the old battlegrounds are still there, or maybe Fort Ligonier, a good example of protective architecture of the period.”

  Char tipped her sunglasses down so she could look at him over the top of them. “How long have you known me?”

  “I f
eel like I’m being held so I can be punched in the face,” Terry said through narrowed eyes.

  “You go off on those historical diatribes and you know, I don’t care.”

  “But you’re the love of my life. You should be interested in what I’m interested in and I’m interested in what you’re interested in,” Terry said weakly.

  “Right,” Char replied dismissively. “When I want to go clothes shopping, I’ll take my daughter rather than put up with your moaning and groaning.”

  “Why can’t you just go buy something? You have to physically touch every piece of clothing in the shop!”

  “My point exactly. No history for me. No clothes shopping for you. I love you dearly, TH, but you can be such a man sometimes.”

  Terry leaned back. “I’m not sure if I should be insulted or not. I thought you liked it when I was all manly, a scruffy-faced man.” He grinned at her.

  “Yes, yes, of course, all that and musky, too. Take me, Terry, take me right now!” She hesitated for a moment before returning to her book.

  “I feel like I just lost a battle that I didn’t know I was fighting.”

  “Touché.”

  Terry turned serious. “How are you going to fight him?” he asked.

  “I need him to stay there because I don’t really want to live in the city anymore. San Francisco is our home. I need to best him as quickly as possible, while leaving him alive so he can be my beta there. He already has the respect of the pack. Timmons said he was an arrogant cuss. I can work with that.”

  “I like the strategy.” Terry looked at what used to be Point State Park, where the Allegheny and Monongahela Rivers joined to form the Ohio, an open area large enough for the dirigible to tether. The ruins of the city were in the background, but the river seemed filled with boats of various types.

  The river was life, as it had been in the beginning. The three rivers were breathing life back into a fertile part of the world. Most of West Virginia was Wasteland, but water held back the desert, chasing away the heat by keeping the foliage alive.

  The gravitic engines brought the dirigible along a steep descent from the north, slowing as it approached. There was no established ground crew, so the five trained crewmen and the five warriors designated for the task hopped down first, grabbed lines, and tied it off.

  The group offloaded the supplies, did a quick survey of the area, and re-boarded.

  Terry looked at the warriors. These were the best of the best, selected from the thousands who had been disbanded. Guard duty. Not glamorous, but necessary.

  Maybe there was a place for the Force de Guerre in the world, at least until the local authorities could provide security for commercial flights.

  And there still had to be a place, but Terry was adamant about not using the Force as police. He just couldn’t let them do that. They secured the airfield, and the ground crew would take care of the details surrounding servicing and managing the flights. They could only barter until there was a national currency.

  No one saw that happening any time soon.

  Ted remained on board the dirigible. Felicity stayed aboard, too. Without a greeting party, she had no reason to go ashore.

  Terry thought about leaving the gondola, but decided not to. Everyone else was staying on board. Terry waved the five members from the FDG to him. They hurried over, coming to the position of attention when they arrived.

  “Listen up, guys. These people know nothing about us. All of their perceptions of the dirigibles and the people who run them will be shaped by what you show them. You aren’t just peacekeepers. You are ambassadors for San Francisco and for the FDG, which means that you represent me. Remember that whenever you deal with the locals.”

  Terry was met by a chorus of “Yes, sir!” before they ran off to help the ground crew.

  Without any delay, Kailin yelled to cast off the lines and Ted maneuvered the great ship skyward.

  “Next stop, New York City,” Terry said.

  New York City

  The group walked to the building that the NAPC called home. Were folk were in abundance. Char ignored them as an alpha could.

  Terry nodded and smiled as he walked by. Marcie snarled, as did the Werewolves in Char’s pack. The stragglers from Joshua’s pack fell in behind Terry, Char, and the group.

  Char continued to ignore them, but Marcie couldn’t. She fell back with Sue and Timmons to be at the rear of the group in case the Were attacked. Sarah remained by her side. Marcie nodded, but Cory and Ramses didn’t look happy.

  “Stay an arm’s length away. Give yourself room to work.” Sarah smiled, eager for action.

  She thought she was ready. Her parents did not. Her aunt thought the only way she’d ever be ready was to get blooded in combat. Sarah had already fought one Werewolf by herself, and that was a start. The Were surrounding them weren’t slackers, but they weren’t at Marcie or Sarah’s speed.

  But the pack didn’t attack. They followed the group through the lobby, up two flights of stairs, and into a broad hallway. At one point in time, the building had been a local court. Joshua’s office was an old courtroom. He lounged behind the great wood desk that sat on a platform above everyone else in the room.

  Two Werewolves in human form tried to intercept Char by interjecting their bodies into her path. She stumbled slightly as she approached.

  A ruse. She took out the one to her right with a left cross, then continued spinning to deliver a right back-kick to the one on her left. He flew through the air and crash-landed through chairs on his way to the floor.

  The one on Char’s right hadn’t gone down. He aimed a punch toward Char’s exposed back, but she never stopped spinning. She blocked it as she came around before delivering a front kick to launch the Were across the room.

  She wiped her hands on her pants. “Is that how you greet a guest?” she demanded as part of the delicate dance when one alpha challenged another.

  “Most guests are invited,” Joshua replied, still calm, but leaning forward, keeping his hands behind his desk. Terry went wide to the side. Sue and Timmons were the only others who had entered with Terry and Char. They remained at the back of the courtroom. “I expected a little more from you, pops.”

  The NAPC alpha leveled a glare at Timmons that would have melted lead.

  Char stopped. “Alphas worth their salt are more cordial, treating guests as friends, even if uninvited, until they prove they’re enemies. So there you have it. You’ve insulted me, so I am forced to challenge you for the leadership of the pack.”

  “Why in the fuck would you want to lead this pack? You have your band of misfits that need your steady hand so they don’t get lost on the way to the short bus.” Joshua Timmons sat still, his breathing steady as his eyes darted back and forth between Terry and Char. He’d already discounted Sue and Timmons. He knew they wouldn’t act against him.

  He didn’t want to kill them, but that didn’t mean he wouldn’t.

  Neither Terry nor Char took the bait. They both stayed on the balls of their feet, balanced and ready to act.

  Misfits? So he’d been in contact with the bunch from Denver, Terry thought. He slowly reached for his .45.

  Joshua watched the movement carefully. Terry looked the Werewolf in the eye as he slowly wrapped his fingers around the grip of the M1911A1.

  Joshua was quickly losing his advantage. He pulled his hands from behind the judge’s bench and aimed his pistol at Terry Henry Walton. Terry pulled his pistol, dodged left, and backed up to the right.

  Joshua fired into the space TH had just left.

  Char’s 9mm rounds slammed into Joshua’s chest, bouncing him backward. Terry shot the Werewolf twice in the arm. The pistol fell from numb fingers. Char rushed the bench, vaulting high over it, to come down with her knees leading the way.

  The impact knocked Joshua backward. She pistol-whipped him across the head, then hit him again for good measure. Terry vaulted over the rail to join Char at Joshua’s side. Terry picked up the pi
stol and unloaded it, keeping the magazine and ammunition, and putting the pistol on the judge’s desk.

  Timmons ran forward and climbed unceremoniously over the bench so he could see if his boy still lived.

  He did, because Terry and Char took mercy, solely because he was Timmons’s son.

  They heard a scuffle in the hallway that lasted all of five seconds. The doors opened and the New York City Weres were forced through. Two bodies were tossed through after them by Sarah and Marcie. They strutted in, looking down at the pack before them.

  “There’s been a change of leadership,” TH told those who had just joined them. Char sat sideways on the judge’s bench, Joshua’s old desk.

  “Here’s how it’s going to be. I’m the alpha, but I don’t live here. I don’t want to live here. You bunch still answer to my beta, whenever he comes to, that is.” Char pointed behind her with her thumb where Sue and Timmons were talking calmly, trying to revive the injured Werewolf.

  “My direction will be to keep doing what you’re doing, kind of, but you answer to me now. Daily updates with what’s going on, how you are keeping the humans out of trouble by helping them as partners should.” She waited.

  She received strange looks from the group.

  “What’s your name?” one of them asked.

  “Charumati. This is my mate, Terry Henry Walton. Our kids, my pack, blah, blah, blah. Which one of you is going to cause me problems? Save me the trouble of hunting you down. That’ll only make your death that much more painful. Come on, now. There’s always one.”

  No one raised their hand or came forward.

  “Cowards,” Char taunted, but they wouldn’t bite. “That takes care of that.”

  Char tossed a comm device to one of the new additions to her pack. “Make sure he gets that when he comes to. When I call, he better answer. If he doesn’t? I’m coming for you.’ Char pointed her finger at the one unlucky enough to have caught the device.