They had walked only fifty yards before the new arrivals appeared, looking little better than hobos. Their clothing was a wild mix of items, held together with bits of rope and straps. Timmons walked up front with the others arrayed behind him. Terry and Char stood hand in hand and waited.
The pack stopped twenty feet away and the She-Wolves devoured Terry Henry Walton with their eyes. The males glared at Char. Timmons looked only at their hands.
“Where’s Marcus?” Timmons asked.
“Dead,” Char replied simply.
“Who’s this?”
Terry made to speak, but Char stopped him. “You look different, Timmons. Did eating people build your courage?”
Timmons growled, getting angry. He hadn’t envisioned Char standing up to him. He expected her to respect the alpha. “What happened to Marcus?”
“I killed him,” Char said boldly. “He was a pig, and I killed him.”
The She-Wolves shifted uncomfortably, looking at each other for confirmation that it would have been possible for Char to kill Marcus.
“How?” Timmons pressed, incredulous.
“While my husband held him, I bit his throat out. Then we sawed off his head using a silvered blade. He’s buried in the Wastelands, five days’ travel from here if you’d like to dig up his carcass,” Char offered.
Rage seized Timmons and he snarled. “Husband?” he blurted and stormed forward. Char let go of Terry’s arm and stepped to the side, trying to draw Timmons toward her. He didn’t take the bait.
Terry rocked to the balls of his feet, shifting one foot slightly rear of the other. He loosened his shoulders and tensed his arms, but didn’t raise his hands.
Timmons stopped in front of him, same height as Terry Henry, but his eyes were yellow and teeth slightly fanged. He examined the human, sniffing carefully.
Clyde barked and growled, but stayed back. Adams hissed at the dog.
“There’s something different about you, but I can’t tell what it is,” Timmons said. He locked eyes with Terry Henry and the stare-down began, where Timmons expected to weaken the human’s resolve. It didn’t work. Terry’s lip curled in a snarl.
Timmons leaned back and at Werewolf speed, sent his fist straight toward Terry’s face. At better than Werewolf speed, Terry’s hand was there. He caught Timmons’s fist, stopping it dead, mid-air. They stood that way for a millisecond until TH surged forward, grabbing Timmons’s neck as he powered into him.
With all the strength in Terry Henry’s body, he picked Timmons up, carried him for a step, and then slammed him into the ground. The street shook from the impact. The red glow in Terry’s eyes was unmistakable, but it quickly disappeared. The Werewolves wondered if they’d seen it at all.
Terry let go and stepped backward, giving Timmons the opportunity to continue the fight.
Timmons lay on his back, in agony, every bone in his rib cage broken. He closed his eyes as the healing process took over. Months of travel through the Wastelands and mountains to build up to a battle that lasted two seconds.
“What the fuck are you?” Timmons croaked. Char’s brow furled as she watched Terry.
He’d never shown that kind of strength before, but everything was different now, wasn’t it?
“My name is Terry Henry Walton,” Terry said, looking from face to face. The pack submitted by not moving, not questioning. "And I’m her fucking husband!"
Char was the first to do something. She strode to Timmons’s prostrate form, grabbed him under the armpits, and lifted him upright. She spun and threw him into the pack. Helpless to fight it, Timmons flew into Merrit and Adams, taking them down with him as the three of them rolled to the street.
Timmons groaned from the pain. The others stayed where they were. The scene would have looked ridiculous with Char kicking ass while wearing a wedding dress if it weren’t so deadly serious.
“I claim status as the alpha. Who wants to die tonight? Challenge me so I can see your blood drip from my fangs,” Char called. She walked up to the others, touching each, locking eyes, then moving to the next.
She lifted Timmons and dusted him off, despite his wincing and gasps of pain.
She stepped close until their noses were almost touching. “Swear your loyalty to me,” Char commanded.
“I accept you as my alpha,” Timmons conceded.
“And him, too,” Char prompted, loudly for all of them to hear.
“But he’s not a Werewolf and a pack can only have one alpha,” Timmons argued weakly, voice barely above a whisper.
“It’s a new day. I’ve accepted him as my alpha and he’s accepted me as his. You will accept us both. Period.” Char lifted Timmons’s chin as she showed her perfectly white human teeth.
“I accept you both,” Timmons whispered.
“And you will be my beta, Timmons. Do you agree?” Char asked the rest of the pack. They nodded along with giving muffled affirmations.
Terry watched, wondering. Where had that strength come from? Did he now have a full pack of Werewolves to add to the Force? How would that work?
Too many questions for now. Clyde hadn’t accepted any of them. He continued to bark incessantly.
“If that’ll be all, I invite you to join us at our wedding reception. We have plenty of food, drink, and then we have work,” Char said, turning to Terry. “Timmons is a first-rate engineer, Merrit a chemist, Ted a nuclear engineer, Shonna’s an engineer, Xandrie a computer programmer, and Sue is a master of administration and finance.”
“Holy crap,” Terry blurted out, amazed as he took each of them in. “We just leveled up!”
“Indeed we have. I hope you all don’t mind sleeping in beds and by all that’s holy, we need to get you some real clothes. And you know what?” she asked them, keeping them off balance, “These people who helped put this together are going to establish a restaurant. When’s the last time you went to a restaurant?” Char asked the pack.
The pack looked relieved, sighing with content.
“Clyde!” Terry yelled. The big coonhound stopped barked, but showed his teeth and growled, hackles up as he stared at the Werewolves. “Here, boy.”
“Real clothes,” Sue said dreamily. With the acceptance of their new alpha, the attitudes changed, old grievances forgotten, and a new future was promising. The alpha set the tone, and Char wanted to keep the pack happy by showing them glimpses of a civilization that they used to know. “And a dance club!”
Char chuckled. “Not quite yet, but that would be nice, wouldn’t it? Come on, let’s introduce you to the mayor.”
***
Billy was watching from the side as Terry and Char ran from the stage and headed down the street. He handed Marcie to Felicity and dashed inside and up the stairs. From his bedroom window he watched as seven people dressed in little better than rags walked toward his house. Terry and Char intercepted them, and there was some posturing.
Billy judged the newcomers to be dangerous. They didn’t walk like refugees. They walked like Terry and Char walked, confident and proud.
A man in the lead confronted Terry. After a brief period of time where the two were face to face, Terry lifted the man and slammed him into the ground. The impact must have been intense, judging from the amount of dust kicked up. Then Char picked the man up and threw him bodily into the newcomers.
More posturing and finally, the group came together and seemed genuinely happy to talk with Terry and Char, with back-slaps and handshakes.
“I can’t wait to hear what the fuck just happened,” Billy said, then looked around quickly for Felicity, relieved at not having to apologize for swearing.
He raced back downstairs to join the party, finding Felicity and Claire directing people through the food line, while simultaneously talking about food preparation.
Felicity is trying to learn how to cook! Billy thought happily, while watching for the newcomers to arrive.
***
Terry and Char walked in front, hand in hand, as Sue and Shonna
told her how wonderful she looked in her wedding dress. Char beamed. Wonderful and badass. Terry grinned at her while casting wary glances over his shoulder. Timmons was healing, but he was still in a great deal of pain. The other men were helping him, but none would look at Terry.
It was bad form to make eye contact with the alpha during the challenge phase of pack leadership, or so Terry thought. He was good with that. After all, it was his wedding day too, and he hoped to be done with confrontation.
“I never liked Star Wars!” he repeated her earlier statement as they walked, dismissing the pack from his thoughts.
“I thought you’d appreciate that, but really, at the altar, you’re thinking about sex?” Char replied.
“After twenty-two years of monk-like adherence to abstinence, and then fireworks with you… Yeah, I think about sex a lot,” Terry said, nodding.
“I told you how much of life you were missing out on, but no, Terry Henry Walton is always right. Me. Big man. Me. Always right. Get me a beer, woman!” Char said, trying to sound like a caveman.
“I resemble that remark!”
The noise of the crowd greeted them, then lessened to silence as the people of New Boulder saw the newcomers, who looked like refugees yet not. They were beautiful people, four men and three women, dressed in rags.
Terry jumped onto the stage, an ill-advised maneuver as the stage swayed and finally caved in. Terry hit the ground and rolled, coming back to his feet as if he meant to do that.
“Listen up. Some new refugees just arrived and we want you to welcome them as you welcomed us!” Terry bellowed, then introduced them one by one with their professions. The engineer made a beeline for them, angling to talk with Timmons and Shonna. Billy tried to get to them as well, to formally welcome them.
He wanted to get a closer look at the stunning women.
Felicity worked her way to the front of the crowd because she wanted to get a closer look at the stunning men.
When they arrived at the front of the crowd from two different directions, they ran into each other. “Really?” they said simultaneously, then laughed, shaking their heads. Billy held out an arm, which Felicity took while balancing the baby in the other.
Char introduced the mayor and his wife as equal partners who made sure the city ran flawlessly. The pack seemed disinterested in political power. But Billy wanted to know more about Sue’s background and if she could help him get his notes and paperwork under control. Felicity remained attached at his side for the entirety of the conversation, then offered to find the seven new people clothes that would be more fitting.
The She-Wolves tried to stay in the shadows, newly embarrassed at how they looked.
They shouldn’t have been. None of the men at the reception saw anything out of place. Everyone was cordial as Terry and Char led the pack to the end of the line, despite the townsfolk offering to put them at the front.
Terry could never eat before the people.
Real leaders eat last.
Billy and Felicity joined them. Terry’s stomach growled again. Clyde barked, still unsure of the newcomers. Char kneeled down and spoke quietly to Clyde.
“The dog whisperer,” Terry told Billy. That term had no context for him, but he understood what Terry was getting at. When Char stood, Clyde’s tail wagged and he panted happily.
“Pet him,” she ordered the pack. They looked at her strangely. Billy and Felicity noticed the change in her voice when she talked to them.
More questions for later, Billy thought.
One by one, they reached down and ran a hand down Clyde’s back. Sue took the time to ruffle his ears, too. He wagged his tail furiously and tried to lick her, but she stopped him. “No licking, my wonderful little man!” she told the dog.
“He’s not…?” Timmons started to ask, trying to be cryptic while in the midst of humans.
“No. He’s just a dog, but he’s our dog and we love him,” she said matter-of-factly. “We can’t have him constantly barking at you, so we’re all in the same pack here. Clyde’s pack.”
They made small talk with the guests as the line wound its way through the area. When they were getting close to the front, Felicity showed up with an armload of clothing. “Let’s get you dressed,” she drawled, looking at the men. “Be a dear, TH, and keep their place in line. We’ll be right back, unless we’re not.”
CHAPTER FOURTEEN
Billy held Marcie in his arms, standing on the top step of the three that led to the back door. He propped the door open against his back as he made to follow Felicity and the newcomers into their house. They showed the women into the same room that Char had used to change.
The men, Billy, and Felicity waited in the hallway.
“Where did you come from?” Billy asked.
“Most recently? From Cancun, actually,” Ted replied.
“Cancun? Where the hell is that?”
“The Yucatan Peninsula of Mexico. The place is still functioning—power, water, food. It’s civilized. They even had music, but most of it was mariachi,” Sue added.
“It sounds far away. But they’re still functioning? How have they done that?” Billy asked, wondering if they could merge their efforts.
“It’s thousands of miles from here. We almost didn’t make it out of Mexico because the heat is so bad this year. But we did, made it back into the mountains where it’s cooler, where there’s game and other food,” Timmons said, gingerly holding his chest.
“You were the one that TH body-slammed? What was that all about?” Billy asked pointedly.
“That’s none of your fucking business.” Timmons growled, looming over Billy, leaning close and trying to intimidate the smaller man. Although the Werewolf was hurt, he could still snap Billy like a twig.
Billy could feel the heat radiating from the bigger man. Billy knew the man was a Werewolf. He knew they were all Werewolves, and his safest course of action was to ask Terry and Char, not anyone from this group.
“I am sorry,” Billy apologized. “Look, they’re done. If you would be so kind as to get dressed, we’d like to rejoin the party. How about that? Char and Terry married and the whole town turns out to see it!” Billy said, forcing a smile as he tried to calmly back away from Timmons.
The Werewolf shrugged, looked appreciatively at the She-Wolves, and then headed into the room where a stack of clothes lay on the bed.
Shonna, Sue, and Xandrie looked much better. They’d also availed themselves of the makeup that Felicity had left on the dressing table. The dark blue eye shadow seemed to be a favorite as all three of the beautiful women had applied dark blue closest to their eyes shading it a lighter blue higher up. The black eyeliner made the yellow in their eyes striking. Billy caught himself staring. He shook it off and excused himself, handing Marcie to Felicity who was oohing and ahhing with the She-Wolves.
Billy stopped at the end of the hallway when the door opened. The men emerged and the clothes were a combination of some pieces too tight while others were too big, but they looked less like refugees from the Wasteland.
“Back to the party, shall we?” Billy called. He saw how Felicity fit in with the beautiful people far better than with him. There were four males and three females. He walked sullenly through the kitchen and held the door for the pack to pass. Billy stopped Felicity and shut the door after the others had gone outside.
“I know that I’m not much compared to people like that, but I love you, Felicity, and I will fight for you,” Billy pleaded.
“Why, Billy Spires, look at you!” Felicity drawled, looking up at her husband. “I’m not going anywhere, and definitely not with any of them. Did you get a whiff of that? My, oh my. They need dunked in the trough every bit as much as that dog, Clyde!”
She leaned to the side with Marcie squashed between them as she gave Billy a long kiss that promised more once the guests were gone.
Billy was more relieved than he let on. “Why yes, Felicity, I am the cat’s meow. I don’t know what I was think
ing. Let’s rejoin our guests before they forget who we are.”
***
Terry and Char were mingling as they edged closer to the front of the line. Terry let any people going through a second time ahead of them as they waited for the pack to return. His stomach growled constantly.
Char hugged him and chuckled. “I know, poor baby is starving. Beating up people takes so much energy. Soon, lover, soon.”
Terry rolled his eyes as the pack emerged from the mayor’s house, looking very much human. The crowd parted as they made a beeline for Terry and Char. The pack didn’t acknowledge any of the guests as they walked by.
Char stopped them by holding her hand out like a traffic cop. “I would appreciate it if you made nice with the good people of New Boulder.” The pack apologized and immediately started smiling and greeting people as they slowed and casually worked their way into line. Terry showed them to the table first.
They filled a plate full of fresh food, vegetables and such, and a second plate with meat. Terry had forgotten how much Werewolves were capable of eating. Timmons looked back and smiled as he took the last of the ham, which was the last of all the meat.
Char almost ordered him to put it back, but Claire magically appeared carrying two steaks that looked like pot roasts. She’d been holding them back, ready to cook them on an outside fire when the time was right. Char smiled at Timmons and shooed him away from the table.
Claire also delivered a cooked bone for Clyde, who took it and ran under the food table so he could gnaw on it in peace.
Claire even had a cake, a small one, made especially for the newlyweds.
Terry and Char joined the pack at a table that had suddenly cleared of people. The seven newcomers ate like they were starving. Char tapped a fork on the table to get their attention. “Manners, please. When’s the last time you ate at a table?”
“Cancun,” Sue answered, straightening up to eat without shoveling.
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