The sail snapped to life and the boat raced past the other docked boats. Merrit steered the boat toward the harbor entrance without tacking. The tie-off was too tight and the boom couldn’t swing. The wind pushed the boat sideways and over they went.
Merrit and Shonna popped to the surface of the cool water. Merrit thought he saw steam rising from Shonna’s head while the boat’s owner screamed invectives from the dock.
Gulf of Mexico
As suddenly as it appeared, it was gone. The raging white caps became rolling waves of no more than three feet. The sailboat settled into a gentle cruise, cutting a neat line through the blue of the deep sea.
How quickly the ocean can forget.
Terry stretched, counting on his nanocytes to rejuvenate his overtaxed muscles. Char had tied herself to the main mast in such a way that she looked like a prisoner. Her chin hung to her chest. Terry rushed to her, finding that she was only sleeping. He untied her and she fell into his arms.
She snuggled her head to his chest as he carried her below and put her in bed. He checked the GPS. They were off course by a couple hundred miles, but at a ninety-degree angle. It only added a half-day to their trip.
He stopped by the galley and made himself a cup of coffee, heavy on the coffee, light on the water.
While it was brewing, he checked the boat, finding it dry inside and his crew sound asleep.
It was as rough for them as it had been for Terry and Char. He tiptoed back to the galley, finished making his coffee, and returned to the main deck. He set course to run straight downwind, hoisted the sails by himself, and settled in to enjoy the ride.
New Orleans
A week later found Terry and Char waving good-bye to the new captain and the sailboat called Intrepid. The crew worked the lines to trim the sails and boost the speed as she raced seaward.
“Think we’ll see them again?” Char wondered.
“Doubt it,” Terry said with a single shoulder shrug as he shifted the huge bag he carried with most of what Char bought on her shopping spree.
“You made their lives better, made it possible for women to have an equal role at sea. I’m proud of you, lover. When they showed up with the women, I thought your head was going to explode!” Char chuckled as they turned and started walking, each shifting their bags to carry them more comfortably.
Getting out of the swamp that was the remnants of an abandoned New Orleans was their first priority. Later, they’d look for food and a place to meet the team.
“I wasn’t amused, but their hearts were in the right places. Now I know that they’ll be fine and treat the Heywood right.” Terry said.
Char stopped. “If you ever want to have sex again, you won’t ever say Heywood Jablomey. Ever. Again.”
Terry considered his tactical position, recognized its weakness, and he surrendered completely.
“Done!” he declared before changing the subject. “North and then we’ll turn west once we’re past Lake Pontchartrain.”
“Sounds like a plan.” Char called Cory. “Where are you?”
“Hello to you, too, Mother!” Cordelia replied. “I can’t really tell you where we are. Still heading south on the western side of the river.”
“We’ve been dropped off and are on foot walking north away from the inlet where New Orleans was located. Looks like we’ll be on the eastern side of the Mississippi for now. Hang on, your father is checking with Akio get a fix on your location.”
Terry hadn’t been, but at Char’s suggestion, he called Eve. Within seconds, she shared the exact locations.
“You’re in Arkansas and it looks like we could meet around Vicksburg. Stay in touch with Eve and she’ll guide you there. We’ll see you there in about three days.” Cory acknowledged her and they both signed off.
“That saves us a lot of walking. We keep going due north, eighty or a hundred miles and we’ll be there. It’s nice to walk, but still feels funny.”
“You’ll have your land legs in no time, sailor boy,” Char taunted her Marine.
“That cuts me deep. I don’t know why you want to be so hurtful.” Terry sighed, throwing the back of his hand to his forehead and swooning into Char’s arms. She tossed him upright.
“Miles to go before I sleep,” Char intoned.
“We better get on our horses if we want to get to the rendezvous. See Cory and then take the next step on our way home.”
“And you take it easy on Ramses, too. You know they’re getting married as soon as we get back?”
Terry nodded. He knew that, but hadn’t said it out loud. As old as he was, he saw the marriage as the point in time when his kids were gone for good, although Cory had been an adult for a long time and Ramses had been her partner.
Always daddy’s little girl.
“Deal with it,” Char told him as she pointed ahead. “Race you?”
The run began with the best of intentions to cover ground quickly, but ended with Terry and Char, both naked, making love like Klingons in the shade of a massive live oak tree.
The Black Sea
Gene returned to the shack that he and Fu had taken over. The previous residents had sailed away years back and never returned. Gene’s size fooled people. They saw him as a brute, but he was a nuclear engineer. He’d learned a great deal from Ted. And Gene was a master craftsman, loving to work with wood, but rarely finding the time. He saw the hut on the Black Sea as his new chance to get into woodworking. There were rudimentary tools inside. All he had to do was sharpen them.
He dug in his massive bag and pulled out a sharpening steel that he’d acquired in Petersburg and went to work.
Fu looked miserable, which made him redouble his efforts.
“I build you mansion of best wood to look at sea. You sleep in best bed. You fish from nice dock. You cook in modern kitchen,” the Werebear told her.
“I believe you,” Fu said, looking up, still wearing her dublyonka, even though it was far warmer on the Black Sea than in Petersburg. It was winter, but the world’s new winter.
“First! I fix roof, then all things inside!” Gene declared and took his tools with him to the roof. He walked carefully on the beams to avoid crashing through.
Fu waited outside, just in case. Gene repaired some thatching and shingles before replacing that which he couldn’t fix. He wanted tar to finish the job, but there wasn’t any. He decided to go to the nearby town of Yevpatoriya, where a burgeoning community existed.
He packed a few items in his bag to trade, hoping that he could trade labor for tar and food.
With Fu by his side, they started walking. Thirty minutes later, they arrived at the outskirts of the community. It wasn’t Petersburg and it wasn’t North Chicago. Gene recognized instantly that they lacked leadership.
He stopped a babushka and asked her where he could get tar. She shied away and without saying anything, pointed in the direction they’d been going. Gene nodded and continued down the road. Fu stayed close.
The community had a town square with various stands and shops. Gene could smell the tar and made a beeline for the stand. When he looked at the tub, he couldn’t tell if it was mud mixed with tar or just mud.
“How much?” Gene asked gruffly in Russian.
“Four planks,” the man replied. Gene shrugged.
“New to town. Explain four planks.”
“Boards! I trade high quality oil products for wood, then he trade wood for food,” the man replied.
“No boards. How about knife? I have two good knives.” Gene showed the man.
“Okay for half a bucket.”
“Full bucket!” Gene roared.
The man recoiled before returning to the negotiation. “Let me see bucket.”
“You supply bucket, too. These are good knives.”
Fu peered from behind Gene. The man looked at her oddly, before shrugging and digging out a dented bucket with a makeshift wire handle. It was half the size Gene expected but would be enough tar to do the job until he could put
a second layer on the roof.
“Done!” Gene said, thrusting a massive hand out to shake. The man took it and then filled the bucket under Gene’s watchful eye. The Werebear loomed over him to make sure he ladled more tar and less mud into the small bucket.
Gene handed the bucket to Fu, but she struggled to lift it. He smacked himself in the head, giving her the bag and taking the bucket himself.
“Why you with this skank? You need to find stout Russian woman,” the tar seller said, clearly for the whole square to hear. All sound stopped as Gene put the bucket down and turned toward the man.
He stood his ground, trusting his stand’s counter to keep the large man at bay. He discovered quickly how sadly his trust was misplaced. Gene pounded a fist on the counter, breaking it in half. The man tried to back up, but Gene was there. He picked the man up with one hand, turned him around, and shoved his head into the tub of tar and mud.
The man kicked and flailed and then went limp as he lost his fight for air. Gene left him that way. Fu had her face buried in her hands. Gene was furious. “Any other smartasses have something to say? Maybe it is time to clean up this town!” Gene bellowed.
The vendors and buyers looked away.
Gene started to plan before taking one more step from the town square of Yevpatoriya.
CHAPTER TWENTY-FIVE
Vicksburg
With Eve’s help, the meetup was anti-climactic. Terry and Char found their way across the river by one of the few remaining bridges. It wouldn’t have been safe for vehicles and would have been tenuous for horses, but Terry and Char negotiated it without issue to meet Kiwi and the others on the western side of the river, across from what used to be Vicksburg.
Their first hint that they were close was the braying of Cory’s coonhound.
“Is it just me or does that dog sound like a wounded mule?”
“It’s just you, TH,” Char joked.
Hugs and warm words aside, Kiwi offered Terry and Char their mounts and turned north. “Time to head home,” she said. After more than a month on horseback with a month to go, she’d had enough. The others were no longer saddle sore, but they were saddle weary.
Terry rode his horse to get between Cory and Ramses. Char caught up with Kiwi to see if she was okay.
“Dad!” Cory warned. Terry smiled broadly. Ramses sat upright and tried to look cool.
“I hear you two are getting married as soon as we get back,” Terry started.
“That’s because I told you,” Cory said, wondering where her father was going with it.
“Your mom says I’m good with it.”
“Your daughter says that, too,” Cory replied.
Terry slapped Ramses on the leg. “Am I?” Terry asked.
“Why wouldn’t you be?” Ramses replied.
“Exactly.” Terry smiled at Ramses and then turned to Cory, tipping his non-existent hat. “Ma’am.”
He spurred his horse forward to catch up with Char and Kiwi.
“Thanks for including me in this. It was nice to be able to contribute again. By the way, we went in the river and lost one of my horses,” Kiwi said.
Terry and Char both waited.
“Cory was incredible. She saved this girl here through sheer force of will.” Kiwi gently patted her mare’s neck. “She didn’t give up, even after I had. And Ramses was a beast. In the spirit of all that the FDG is, he held on and brought us in from the floodwaters. We were goners, but not to Cory or Ramses. The rope almost tore his hand off.”
Char raised an eyebrow at TH.
“Thanks, Kiwi. I’m sorry you lost a horse, really sorry. I’m glad you had good people fighting for you. That’s the best any of us can hope for, isn’t it?” Terry said, serious at learning of the tragedy, but happy that his daughter and her soon-to-be husband had done what they did.
“How are the other horses holding up?” Char asked.
“As they should,” Kiwi replied proudly. “Good stock these, and thanks for requesting me. It was nice to see them in action. They don’t get much of that nowadays.”
“There will be plenty of work for you and for them for the foreseeable future,” Terry told her. “Horse master.”
Kiwi smiled. She was the chief of the tribe, but the native population had integrated with the other people of North Chicago. It was a true melting pot, something that the country had always professed itself to be.
She had a full get-together one day a month, on the day of the council meetings, but it had turned into a potluck and a big community party. Better, she thought. People recognized for who they are and not what blood is in their veins.
“Forgive me, Grandfather. Forgive me, Father,” she begged silently. “Forgive me, Mother Earth, for any damage I’ve done.”
The sun continued to shine brightly. Kiwi wasn’t sure if she had been expecting a thunder clap, a lightning strike, or even Metaguas to rise and block her way.
None of that. It was a pleasant winter day, warm but not hot in the new way of winter on the edge of the Wastelands. Kiwi smiled at the sky, rubbed her mare’s neck, and thanked the earth for not rising up against her.
There might be a day that would happen, but it wasn’t going to be this day.
WWDE + 54
North Chicago
The group rode into Kiwi and Gerry’s ranch, three weeks to the day after they met near Vicksburg. They’d returned the entire way in good weather, without any major challenges.
Terry and Char took the time to get to know each member of Ramses’s team.
The group was going to be tight until Akio could provide them with new pods and the FDG could return to their worldwide ways.
Until then, North Chicago was more than home base, it was home.
Kiwi told the others to ride on, take the horses to the former base, tie them off, and she’d collect them the next day. Camilla and Ayashe asked to remain at the ranch and Ramses agreed wholeheartedly.
“Come on, people! Thirty minutes and we’re home. What do we do first?” Terry called to the group.
“Shower!” one cried.
“Eat!” another called out.
The colonel shook his head slowly.
“Corporal?” Terry called, putting Ramses on the spot.
“Put up our gear and take care of the horses, because we never know when we could be going back out. We always need to be ready.”
Terry pointed to his nose. “Spot on. Now that we have that straight, when’s the wedding?”
Cory looked skeptically at her father, wondering what kind of subterfuge was taking place. He shook his head. Char nodded to let her daughter know that he was playing nice.
“I’m so glad you’re the alpha,” Cory said to her mother with a smile, before making an angry face at her father.
“Well?” he asked.
“Probably a week, just to make sure we can let people know. Kiwi said she’ll ask Mother Earth for good weather so we can have it outside. If not, then the hangar will work, but we prefer the green grass. It’s so soft and tickles our bare bodies.”
Terry’s smile disappeared. He maneuvered his horse to put Char between him and the young couple. He leaned toward his wife and whispered, “Make the mean noises stop.”
***
Terry never assumed the wedding would be a small affair. Cory was popular, and the whole town wanted to show its support. Mayor’s park was cleaned up, and a few rows of chairs and a stage was set up. Terry marveled at how far they’d come, that they could do something like this with minimal effort. Mark and Mayra provided the lion’s share of the food, but a long line of tables were set up with guards stationed to keep Clovis, Ted’s wolves, and any other creatures from helping themselves.
The couple showed up ready for the event, but Felicity wasn’t in a hurry. She was dressed to kill with Ted by her side, looking extremely uncomfortable and out of place.
Terry and Char were off to the side, spectators only. They held their grandkids while Kim and Auburn stood with arms
around each other. Marcie and Kae were on the other side. Terry found peace with Ramses and Cory because his family helped him to realize what it all meant.
Not a crush, not a way to get on the colonel’s good side, but a love like he and Char had with someone who would let a rope tear off his hand before he would let go.
Terry’s family included people like Kiwi and Gerry, Lacy and James, Mark and Mayra, and Boris. The insiders who worked the closest with Terry Henry Walton, showed their support and friendship. At one time, it had been loyalty to Terry and Char and a belief in their mission, but it had evolved to become so much more.
The pack couldn’t make it but when the ceremony started, the kids would be there, on the stage with their comm devices on and connected with the pack members wherever they were around the world.
Felicity officiated, as she had since before Billy’s death. Officiated, but not official. There was no such thing anymore. That didn’t matter.
Cordelia and Ramses didn’t care. They were there to acknowledge their commitment before the entire community. Terry shifted Mary Ellen on his hip. “You’re getting big,” he told her as he looked at his comm device.
“What are you looking at that for?” Char wondered.
“Every time I think everything is going right, the shit hits the fan. Akio calls and we have to go fight bad guys. I’m waiting and ready.”
“Have to go fight bad guys? Don’t you mean you get to? Sometimes I think you live for the fight, like you have latent anger issues.” Char’s eyes sparkled purple in the winter’s midday sun.
“Maybe yes. Removing bad guys from existence is what I do. It’s my thing so other people don’t have to worry, can go about their lives.” Terry had said that often in his life. “Make the world a great place to live!”
“Somebody has to do it, right?” Char chided her husband, elbowing him.
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