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Nomad Unleashed

Page 1

by Craig Martelle




  CONTENTS

  Dedication

  Legal

  Series List

  Social Links

  Chapter One

  Chapter Two

  Chapter Three

  Chapter Four

  Chapter Five

  Chapter Six

  Chapter Seven

  Chapter Eight

  Chapter Nine

  Chapter Ten

  Chapter Eleven

  Chapter Twelve

  Chapter Thirteen

  Chapter Fourteen

  Chapter Fifteen

  Chapter Sixteen

  Chapter Seventeen

  Chapter Eighteen

  Chapter Nineteen

  Chapter Twenty

  Chapter Twenty-One

  Chapter Twenty-Two

  Chapter Twenty-Three

  Chapter Twenty-Four

  Chapter Twenty-Five

  Chapter Twenty-Six

  Chapter Twenty-Seven

  Chapter Twenty-Eight

  Chapter Twenty-Nine

  Chapter Thirty

  Chapter Thirty-One

  Chapter Thirty-Two

  Chapter Thirty-Three

  Author Notes - Craig Martelle

  Author Notes - Michael Anderle

  Michael-Scott Earle

  WWDE

  Nomad Supreme

  DEDICATION

  We can’t write without those who support us

  On the home front, we thank you for being there for us

  We wouldn’t be able to do this for a living if it weren’t for our readers

  We thank you for reading our books

  Nomad Unleashed

  The Terry Henry Walton Chronicles

  Team Includes

  BETA / EDITOR BOOK Acknowledgements in Back!

  JIT Beta Readers - From both of us, our deepest gratitude!

  Norman Meredith

  Maria Stanley

  Leo Roars

  Sherry Foster

  Micky Cocker

  Jed Moulton

  Alex Wilson

  Kimberly Boyer

  John Findlay

  Ginger Sparkman

  If I missed anyone, please let me know!

  Nomad Unleashed (this book) is a work of fiction.

  All of the characters, organizations, and events portrayed in this novel are either products of the author’s imagination or are used fictitiously. Sometimes both.

  The Kurtherian Gambit (and what happens within / characters / situations / worlds)

  are Copyright (c) 2017 by Michael T. Anderle

  This Complete Book is Copyright (c) 2017 by Michael T. Anderle / Craig Martelle

  All rights reserved. No part of this publication may be reproduced, stored in a retrieval system, or transmitted in any form or by any means, electronic, mechanical, recording or otherwise, without the prior written permission of Michael T. Anderle.

  Version 1.0

  Cover by Andrew Dobell, creativeedgestudios.co.uk

  Editing by Mia Darien, miadarien.com

  The Terry Henry Walton Chronicles

  A Kurtherian Gambit Series

  Book 1 – Nomad Found

  Book 2 – Nomad Redeemed

  Book 3 - Nomad Unleashed

  Book 4 - Nomad Supreme(02/03-2017)

  Free Trader Series

  Book 1 – The Free Trader of Warren Deep

  Book 2 – The Free Trader of Planet Vii

  Book 3 – Adventures on RV Traveler

  Book 4 – Battle for the Amazon

  Book 5 – Free the North!

  Book 6 – Free Trader on the High Seas

  Book 7 – Southern Discontent (2017)

  Book 8 – The Great ‘Cat Rebellion (2017)

  Book 9 – Return to the Traveler (2017)

  Cygnus Space Opera – Set in the Free Trader Universe

  Book 1 – Cygnus Rising

  Book 2 – Cygnus Expanding

  Book 3 – Cygnus Arrives (2017)

  End Times Alaska Series, a Winlock Press publication

  Book 1: Endure

  Book 2: Run

  Book 3: Return

  Book 4: Fury

  Rick Banik Thrillers

  People Raged and the Sky Was on Fire

  The Heart Raged (2017)

  Short Story Contributions to Anthologies

  Earth Prime Anthology, Volume 1 (Stephen Lee & James M. Ward)

  Apocalyptic Space Short Story Collection (Stephen Lee & James M. Ward)

  Lunar Resorts Anthology, Volume 2 (Stephen Lee & James M. Ward)

  Just One More Fight (published as a novella standalone)

  The Expanding Universe, Volume 1 (edited by Craig Martelle)

  The Expanding Universe, Volume 2 (edited by Craig Martell – June 2017)

  The Misadventures of Jacob Wild McKilljoy (with Michael-Scott Earle)

  Metamorphosis Alpha, Stories from the Starship Warden (with James M. Ward – Summer 2017)

  Michael Anderle

  Kurtherian Gambit Series Titles Include:

  First Arc

  Death Becomes Her (01) - Queen Bitch (02) - Love Lost (03) - Bite This (04)

  Never Forsaken (05) - Under My Heel (06) Kneel Or Die (07)

  Second Arc

  We Will Build (08) - It’s Hell To Choose (09) - Release The Dogs of War (10)

  Sued For Peace (11) - We Have Contact (12) - My Ride is a Bitch (13)

  Don’t Cross This Line (14)

  Third Arc (Due 2017)

  Never Submit (15) - Never Surrender (16) - Forever Defend (17)

  Might Makes Right (18) - Ahead Full (19) - Capture Death (20)

  Life Goes On (21)

  **New Kurtherian Gambit Series**

  The Second Dark Ages

  The Dark Messiah

  The Darkest Night (04.2017)

  Darkest Before the Dawn (07.2017)

  Light Is Breaking (11.2017)

  The Boris Chronicles

  * With Paul C. Middleton *

  Evacuation

  Retaliation

  Revelation

  Restitution 2017

  Reclaiming Honor

  * With JUSTIN SLOAN *

  Justice Is Calling (01)

  Claimed By Honor (02)

  Judgment Is Coming Feb 2016

  The Etheric Academy

  * With TS PAUL *

  ALPHA CLASS (01)

  ALPHA CLASS (02) Mar 2017

  ALPHA CLASS (03) May/June 2017

  Terry Henry “TH” Walton Chronicles

  * With CRAIG MARTELLE *

  SEE ABOVE!

  SHORT STORIES

  Frank Kurns Stories of the Unknownworld 01 (7.5)

  You Don’t Mess with John’s Cousin

  Frank Kurns Stories of the Unknownworld 02 (9.5)

  Bitch’s Night Out

  Frank Kurns Stories of the Unknownworld 03 (13.25)

  BELLATRIX

  With Natalie Grey

  Anthologies

  Glimpse

  Honor in Death

  (Michael’s First Few Days)

  Beyond the Stars: At Galaxy's Edge

  Tabitha’s Vacation

  Craig Martelle Social

  For a chance to see ALL of Craig’s new Book Series

  Check out his website below!

  Website:

  http://www.craigmartelle.com

  Email List:

  http://www.craigmartelle.com

  (Go 1/2 way down his first page, the box is in the center!)

  Facebook Here:

  https://www.facebook.com/AuthorCraigMartelle/

  Michael Anderle Social

  Website:

  http://kurtherianbooks.com/

  Email List:


  http://kurtherianbooks.com/email-list/

  Facebook Here:

  https://www.facebook.com/TheKurtherianGambitBooks/

  CHAPTER ONE

  The raiders attacked at dawn.

  Without the surprise they had assumed, however. Terry Henry Walton and the Werewolf Charumati had seen them coming. The raiders were motivated and angry, but suffered from a lack of training.

  Weapons fire peppered the walls where the raiders had last seen the members of the Force de Guerre, but it was wasted ammunition. The disciplined unit was no longer there.

  Corporal James had split his squad and moved one further up the small valley, drawing the raiders deeper into the ambush. James set the remaining members into firing positions along the enemy’s flank.

  The enemy, Terry Henry thought.

  These were survivors just like he used to be, but they were using their strength to tear down. He wouldn’t have that. His world was about building up.

  When the FDG ran across this group when scouring the more fertile region bordering the Wastelands, Terry had given them a chance to parley, but they were having none of it. They saw the weapons, clean and well-cared for. They saw the extra magazines of ammunition.

  And the raiders wanted it all.

  They tried to seize Char, and it drove Terry into a frenzy, but by the time he reacted, Char had already killed three of them before the others beat feet.

  Terry thought that was the end of it, but when stupid fuckers got angry, common sense went out the window. What a shame. If only he could figure out who was the head of that snake, then he could kill it and talk with the rest. They seemed to be organized but disorganized.

  He nodded at their commitment to revenge.

  “Fire,” he said calmly. The line of AK-47s opened up in semi-automatic mode, the marksmen of the FDG doing their best to make each round count. The raiders turned to engage the surprise attack, offering their flank to the half of James’s squad that was the bait of the ambush.

  In barely fifteen seconds it was over. The dead and dying littered the battlefield. Twelve hearty souls entered the kill zone and none left.

  “What a shame,” Terry said, standing to survey the damage. “Report!”

  James looked to his people. Each gave a thumbs up, then held up fingers with the amount of ammo used. He waved to the other half of his squad. They did the same thing, one by one.

  “No casualties, forty-seven rounds expended,” James reported, not happy with the high volume of fire. He saw the disappointment on Terry’s face. “I’m sorry, Colonel. We need to exercise better fire discipline.”

  The Force de Guerre had been training for a couple years, but rarely fired live ammunition.

  “What?” Terry asked, shaking his head. He hadn’t been looking at James at all. “Fire discipline. Less than four per kill on a moving enemy? That is not bad at all, Corporal. Carry on.”

  James smiled immediately and waved his half of the squad forward after ensuring that the other half had them covered. James stepped from cover, leading the others downhill, aiming his rifle as he walked carefully, never crossing his feet, ready to fire at any instant. The others spread out behind him in a V formation, also looking down the barrels of their rifles.

  Terry watched, pleased with the actions of his people. During the before time, he enjoyed the benefits of instant communication with Bethany Anne’s, The Queen Bitch’s people. Often, Terry had counted on the help from the likes of Akio or Samuel, some of her men. He wondered if they’d come back, if he’d ever see one of the honorable once more, Bethany Anne even.

  Where are you? he asked himself. She’d gone to fight an intergalactic war, but was she gone forever? Even a vampire like her couldn’t survive getting her ship blown apart around her. Would it be that kind of war?

  So much he didn’t know, but for now, the only enhanced beings he knew were he and Charumati. Char hadn’t seen her pack since she left them, and they hadn’t seen any Forsaken, no vampires at all.

  He and Char were alone. Or free to do what needed done in order to prepare the world for TQB’s return. He preferred to think of it as they were free and unleashed on a strategic mission.

  Terry had increased the size of the FDG and had been scouring the border of the Wastelands looking for people to rejoin civilization. Many, like the group they’d just dealt with, had assumed his overtures to be a ruse.

  They weren’t, but Terry gave them enough rope to hang themselves. He would have walked away if they so desired.

  They didn’t.

  Too bad for them, but not for the people they were holding back. Terry looked forward to gathering the new refugees and heading back to New Boulder for some R&R, a little rest and relaxation. They’d been riding for over a month on their current trip. Terry estimated they were somewhere close to the Missouri River, and they had nearly one hundred people in tow.

  He didn’t know how many people were in the settlement that the raiders controlled.

  “One’s still alive!” James called from below. Terry and Char walked briskly down the hill, finding Lacy putting pressure on a bullet wound in the man’s leg while Gerry put pressure on a second wound across the man’s chest. He’d been grazed by the chest shot and hit solidly in the leg, but it hadn’t broken the bone or ripped through an artery. He was damned lucky.

  “What’s your name?” Terry asked the grimacing man. The man looked around, knowing that he was alone.

  “I am Spartacus,” he replied in a gravelly voice. Both Char and Terry burst out laughing, but the man didn’t look like he was joking.

  “Wait, you’re not kidding?” Terry asked after a minute.

  “Why would I kid about my name?” the man replied, his face twisting in both confusion and in pain.

  “It’s just that…. Never mind,” Terry conceded waving a hand, understanding that this man had probably never watched television, having been born around the time of the fall, the World’s Worst Day Ever.

  The WWDE. The day the apocalypse was ushered in.

  Twenty-two years ago and finally, Terry thought less about his wife and child. It had taken twenty years of wandering the Wastelands and hiding in the mountains for him to decide it was okay to return to humanity. After that, someone new entered his life. They slept together every night, but they had yet to sleep together.

  Her patience seemed to be infinite as she waited for him. The two were inseparable and critical to the long-term health of the FDG, the force that would bring peace to everything that was North America.

  Eventually.

  One person, one family, one settlement at a time.

  “Spartacus, how many people are left in the settlement?” Terry asked.

  “Feck off!” the man tried to yell, but gasped in pain from his effort. Geronimo continued to put pressure on the young man’s chest to keep the blood flow staunched.

  “Did he say ‘feck’?” Terry asked Char. She shrugged and smirked. The scar on her face, still pronounced after all that time, tugged at her lip. She didn’t seem to care. Terry liked it, expecting that nothing would make it go away. It should have healed within a day, but two years?

  It was there for good. Silver did a number on Werewolves.

  “No, I’m sorry, Spartacus, but I won’t ‘feck’ off, no matter how much you think you want me to. We’re going back there to have a conversation like real adults, not like what we had with this bunch. You should consider being nicer to people who aren’t threatening you. They may have more bite than bark. I’m going to ask you kindly… How many people are in that settlement?”

  The man took a deep breath and struggled to rise, but Gerry pushed him back down. “I suggest you answer the man. Your comrades are all dead and you will be, too, if you keep heading down this path of yours,” Gerry told him in a soft voice.

  The man relaxed. He and Geronimo seemed to be the same age. It was hard to tell sometimes in the Wastelands because life was so hard. It aged people at an unnatural rate. Then th
ere were Terry and Char, who seemed ageless to everyone who knew them.

  “Forty, maybe, somewhere thereabouts,” the young man finally answered, sighing and leaning back.

  “Needle and thread,” Terry called. James pulled his pack off, set it on the ground, and dug through to find the sewing kit. With a needle carefully preserved from the before time and horsetail hair, Terry knelt down and got to work.

  The young man thought he was going to be tortured and started screaming. Lacy took his head in both her hands and stared into his eyes.

  “Listen, dickless! Those wounds need sewed up, otherwise you will bleed to death, nice and slow. So shut up and sit still!” she ordered, then took his hand and nodded back to the colonel.

  Terry started with the leg wound. The bullet had passed through the man’s thigh, leaving a clean entry wound and a mostly clean exit wound, although there was some ripping of the skin on the way out as the bullet tumbled going through. The chest wound was little more than an ugly scratch.

 

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