Nomad's Force

by Craig Martelle

  When Kae reminded himself of why, anger rose within him. He didn’t understand why he was so tentative.

  Fear of failure? What did his father teach him, over and over? You make your own luck, Kae!

  “Put on your fucking war faces, bitches!” Kae growled, looking from one to the other. Camilla growled back. The others picked up the sound. “V formation. Once inside, leap-frog, cover. Standard room clearing. Let’s root this fucker out and finish him. That is why we’re here.”

  Kae looked from the rubble to make sure the way was clear before stepping out. The others joined him, arrayed in two wings sweeping away from the lieutenant as the point man. Like migrating geese, they headed straight for the building, up to the front door, and in.

  It was dark inside; the windows were mostly blocked in one way or another. That told Kae the Forsaken wasn’t powerful enough to walk in the daylight unprotected.

  “Time to die, fucker!” Kae yelled, feeling the strength from the bravado his father often showed in high-stress situations. I understand, Kae thought.

  He pointed to doorways on the right and left. One warrior took a knee next to each, then the breacher went through, followed quickly by another. They dove to the side as they cleared the doorway. They swept the room and returned to the main hallway.

  “Clear,” they reported. They cleared the ground floor. Kae looked at the narrow stairway leading to the basement.

  “Gene said there were two of them. Keep your head on a swivel and shoot first. If they had any human guards, we would have run across them by now,” Kae explained and stepped through the doorway first. Camilla grabbed his arm.

  “You’re too important to go first. Let me,” she pleaded.

  He held her back. “And you’re too fragile. Like I said, this is what I was made for.” Kaeden held her back as he stepped through the door. Still looking at his team, he never saw the arrow that ripped through his chest and pinned him to the wall. Kae grunted and grimaced, firing his rifle one-handed down the stairs. Camilla screamed and leaned around the doorway. She couldn’t see anything in the gloom below but fired anyway.

  “What are you waiting for? Get the hell down there and take him out,” Kae gasped. “It’s a crossbow. Stay on him and he won’t be able to re-cock it.”

  Camilla headed down the stairs cautiously with the team lined up behind her. Kae looked at how the crossbow bolt had gone through is flak jacket, his chest, the back side of the flak vest, and into the wall.

  He worked his way back and forth until the arrowhead came free from the wall. Kae had never experienced such excruciating pain. His vision blurred, but the nanocytes came to his rescue, helping him shake off the waves of pain.

  Kae staggered down the stairs, listening for his team. They went left. He followed. Someone cried out. The rifles opened up. Kae stumbled forward, hurrying toward the action, then something held him up.

  He was yanked backward by the crossbow bolt. Someone was twisting it.

  The second Forsaken.

  Using his right hand, Kae swung his rifle barrel under his armpit and fired into the space behind him. He stumbled forward as the creature let go.

  Kae turned and tried to put his back to the wall, but the arrow was still sticking out. He fumbled to bring the rifle up, but the Forsaken kicked it away. This Forsaken was horribly scarred from a horrific injury that even its healing powers couldn’t repair.

  “Aren’t you an ugly brute!” Kae said as he tried to slowly pull his knife, the one that his father had given him long before. When the war with the Forsaken started, Kae had silvered the blade.

  The creature reached for the arrow’s shaft, but Kae slapped its hand away. A second time and the lieutenant jumped to the side to begin maneuvering.

  “I sense something different in you. You live in your world, and you know about ours, too. That wound would kill a human, but not you. Ergo, you must not be human.” The Forsaken sniffed the air with its contorted and misshapen nose. “You’re not Were. You’re not a Vampire. What are you?”

  Kae relaxed as he stood straight up. He let his eyes roll back in his head, and he started to fall forward. The Forsaken stood, immobilized by what he assumed was a human passing out. Kaeden lunged forward and drove his knife through the creature’s leather, hilt-deep into its abdomen.

  The Forsaken screamed the high-pitched howl of agony. Kaeden twisted the knife upward, scrambling the creature’s insides. He yanked the knife out and drove it into the thing’s throat, hanging on as it fell backwards. He rode it down, landing with his knee on its chest.

  He could no longer ignore the gunfire behind him as it grew closer. Kae swung his rifle to the front as he stood and put one round through each of the creature’s eyes.

  He turned to find his squad backing up toward him, covering each other’s movement from cover to cover. The basement was crowded with old machinery and large cases, making it impossible to maneuver. His people were channeled into one area.

  “Enough!” he roared and the firing stopped. He strode past his people to see what was going on. The Forsaken had a large sheet of cast iron that it was wheeling in front as it moved forward.

  “What the fuck are you afraid of?” he yelled at his warriors. Camilla stepped from behind cover, but he pushed her back.

  The Forsaken popped from behind its shield and pulled the trigger on its crossbow. With the speed of the enhanced, Kae’s hand darted toward the path of the bolt. He caught it, smiling at the surprise on the Forsaken’s face.

  “You don’t get a second free shot,” he told it, then turned to the others. “What the hell are you waiting for? Get in there and kill that thing!”

  The warriors rushed forward. The Forsaken tried to push its shield in their way, but rifle barrels were thrust around the shield and silver bullets pounded the creature’s body. Camilla found a niche that gave her a shot. She fired twice, a double tap that ended the creature’s existence.

  The team cheered and high-fived.

  “Clear this place! Look for any others who might be sleeping,” Kaeden ordered. The team sobered and went about their business, two by two. “And get this thing out of me!”

  Dundee, Scotland

  Marcie entered the building first. She wanted to go further inside, but forced herself to wait for the others. She could feel the Forsaken, sense its presence.

  She knew that wasn’t normal. Marcie closed her eyes and focused. A blob in a mist. Above her and away. Moving closer. She opened her eyes and the mist resolved itself into a large atrium with a long arcing stairway to her right.

  Gene had said stairs to the right and left. She couldn’t see the ones to the left, but expected them to be at the end of the hallway that led from the atrium. She closed her eyes again, embracing the mist and the shadow moving within.

  Someone jostled her elbow and she came to herself with a start.

  The other four were breathing hard from the sprint to the doorway, not wanting to leave their team lead inside without their support for longer than necessary.

  “It’s up there,” she said, pointing to the top of the steps. “Follow me up,”

  “A little slower, please,” one of the warriors gasped, still sucking wind from his efforts.

  Marcie mumbled an apology, still engrossed in what her mind had showed her. And then it dawned on her. If she could see it, then it could see her peeking into the etheric dimension. She shivered involuntarily, then gritted her teeth.

  Even Terry Henry didn’t have that advantage, but he knew she was capable of more. He hadn’t been riding her unfairly. He’d been driving her toward her full potential.

  “How did he know?” she asked. When the others looked at her curiously, she waved them off.

  She walked across the marble floor and put one foot on the staircase. “We’re on our way, sunshine. Your call. Easy way or hard way,” she yelled as she studied the steps, looking for traps.

  In the silence following her call, the other six warriors breached the backdo
or and hit the steps hard, pounding their way upward.

  “Crap!” she growled. “Come on!” She raced upwards, taking the steps three at a time, slowing toward the top as she leveled her rifle. Even with her enhancements, she knew that the colonel trained them to do things a certain way for a reason.

  Don’t get in a fistfight if you don’t have to because the other guy can always get in a lucky punch, she remembered him saying. A fair fight is the only one you lose.

  She set her team up for a breach and tried to open the massive oak, double door that led to where she believed the Forsaken was hiding. They were bolted solid and wouldn’t budge.

  “We need to open these,” Marcie said.

  “I got it!” one of the warriors boldly claimed, pulling the pin on a grenade.

  “STOP!” Marcie screamed. “What in the actual fuck do you think you’re doing? There’s no place to hide!”

  “Oh shit!” the man claimed, turning beet red. He fumbled with the grenade and the spoon flipped off. He dropped it on the floor.

  “RUN!” Marcie yelled, kicking the grenade toward the door and pushing the warriors on her side toward the stairs. The first ran downward and the last few dove as the grenade went off.

  Marcie felt the fire and burn as shrapnel peppered her back and legs. The last two who dove ended up in a heap beneath her. One’s arm was contorted and already turning purple where it had broken. The other groaned as blood spewed from a broken nose.

  Marcie worked her way to her feet, pointing at those who made it down the steps. “Take care of them.”

  She returned to the landing to find two warriors down on the other side, with four picking themselves up. The Forsaken stood in the remnants of the doorway, watching Marcie closely.

  “Dinner and a show,” he taunted. She raised her rifle, but too late. He’d backed into the room. Marcie ran after him, tripping over his outstretched foot as she crossed the threshold.

  Her rifle clattered on the floor as she went sprawling.

  Training. She let her momentum carry her forward, pushing into the fall, rolling, and coming to her feet. The Forsaken had hit the marble with a sword blade where her legs had been.

  Marcie’s rifle was on her back, the combat sling doing its job in not letting the weapon leave her person. But the Forsaken lunged at her. She leaned her body, like a reed in the wind, and let the blade pass. She used the twist for a left jab, catching the creature on the chin.

  She jumped back, using his moment of hesitation to bring her rifle around to the front, firing from the hip. Three rounds to the chest later, the Forsaken was scrambling to get out the door.

  “Shoot him!” she yelled. As soon as the creature made it into the hallway, rounds hammered it from both sides. It stepped back into the room, holding its chest and wincing.

  “Who are you?” it asked.

  Marcie fired from her hip, hitting it in the face and sending the back of its head across the landing and over the railing to the floor below.

  “I am the slayer of demons. I can see you where you hide. I will kill you where you stand. I won’t rest till there are no more of you. That’s who I am.”

  She let her rifle dangle as she took a knee next to the body. It carried nothing but its sword. A Scottish claymore. She checked the room to find the scabbard. Put the sword into it, arranged it over her shoulder, and returned to the balcony beyond.

  Two dead, one of whom had thrown the grenade. “I don’t feel sorry for you,” she told the man, then to the other, “but you. You had nothing to do with his stupidity. You shouldn’t have had to pay the price.” She picked him up and let his body settle over her shoulder, next to her new weapon.

  She didn’t want to, but knew she had to. “Bring him,” she ordered. Leave no one behind, even if they did get someone killed.

  CHAPTER FORTY-THREE

  Scotland

  The pod flew to Saint Andrews first to pick up Kaeden and his team. They waited in front of the building and the pod maneuvered between the rubble and overgrown trees to land.

  The arrow had been pulled out, but the holes and the bloodstains remained. Kae had drunk most of the squad’s water and eaten most of the food to give his nanocytes energy to heal the wounds in his body.

  He felt better and better with each passing moment. The crossbow bolt had missed his heart, and Kaeden assumed that had saved his life. He found that having it in his chest wasn’t as disconcerting as it should have been. He would spend a great deal of time thinking about why.

  As they boarded the pod, they discovered Gene in bad shape. “Uncle Gene!” Kae called and took a knee next to the Werebear. Kae took his hand and squeezed it. Gene’s eyes fluttered open.

  “Hey! You, too?” he muttered.

  Kaeden nodded. “It’s the rite of passage, I guess. Just trying to be more like you, Uncle Gene.”

  “Don’t. This sucks. Fu be mad if I don’t eat what she cooks,” Gene shared. The warriors chuckled at what the big man considered his greatest dilemma.

  The ramp closed and they were on their way before Kae realized.

  A short hop later and the ramp lowered to pick up Marcie and her team. They carried the bodies aboard. Kae stood and looked at them. “Son of a bitch,” he whispered in sympathy.

  He noticed the bloodstains down his wife’s back, but she shrugged them off when she noticed Gene.

  The pod ramp closed and they headed west toward Glasgow.

  “We already did Inverness. That’s where Gene got hurt,” the sergeant told Kaeden and Marcie.

  “Dammit, Gene! What did I tell you?” The Werebear didn’t try to answer. The silvered sais had done a number on him, and he was suffering mightily. Kae didn’t need to rub salt into the wounds, too.

  Marcie leaned close and whispered into her husband’s ear. “I can see them in the etheric,” she whispered.

  “Holy shit!” Kae mouthed. She nodded and smiled.

  “You stay in the pod, Gene. We’ll handle this one,” Marcie said, unsure if Gene heard her or not.

  Argentina

  The pod landed behind a copse of trees. Char and the two survivors emerged. Terry had to pinch his eyes closed when he saw the bodies.

  “We landed right in the middle of an ambush,” Char said softly, looking back into the pod. The bloodstains down her front said that she’d stopped bullets with her body, too, but was able to heal. The humans weren’t so blessed.

  “Are we angry enough?” Terry asked. Char nodded tersely, one corner of her lip curling. Without a word to the team, they walked past. Terry made eye contact with Mary Ellen’s boyfriend. The young man’s eyes shot wide before he looked away.

  Terry and Char started jogging, then ran faster. “It knows we’re here,” Char said loudly into the breeze. “Bracket it!”

  Char pointed in a direction for Terry to go, and he veered that way while she started angling farther to the right. She looped around. “Coming your way, TH,” she roared as she increased speed.

  The two teams were running to catch up, each turning in the direction of their assigned team leader.

  Terry stopped when he saw the Forsaken. The creature stopped too, then darted into a building. Terry took one step when he heard the scream. He ran to the doorway and stopped as soon as he saw a woman with a knife blade to her throat. The creature, dressed in black leather without any skin showing, forced her partially out the door. He stayed back, half in the shadows, taking advantage of the cover provided by the building.

  “We are at an impasse,” the Forsaken said.

  “We have not yet begun to impasse,” Terry replied. Char jogged up, casually pulled one Glock, and took aim. “Hold on for a minute, lover. This one’s a talker.”

  The Forsaken ducked behind the woman’s head and kept moving to make Char’s aim more difficult. She lowered her weapon.

  “That’s more like it. Now, you can both go away. Leave on whatever ship you came on and leave me be.”

  “You have to know that we can’t do
that,” Terry explained calmly. “Please, ma’am, understand that your sacrifice will save lives. We cannot have a murderer like him running around the countryside. You were dead the second he walked into your home. If you do survive this, that would be incredible. It is our wish that you live, but not at the cost of letting that creature go free. My apologies for any inconvenience.”

  The woman didn’t understand a word Terry was saying, which he counted on. Everything he said was to establish the parameters of the conversation.

  The Forsaken dropped the knife and shoved the woman behind him. The creature put its hands on top of its head and walked into the open. Char’s pistol was in her hand, with her aim-point between its eyes. She didn’t pull the trigger because Terry couldn’t abide killing those who surrendered.

  “It would have been far easier on you had you not surrendered,” Terry suggested.

  The two teams finally arrived and found the Forsaken with its hands on its head.

  “I would say that now we are at an impasse,” Terry admitted.

  He pointed with his chin and his team rushed forward to secure the prisoner. Char holstered her pistol. The Forsaken never took its eyes off Terry as the warriors grabbed its arms. It twisted and punched one of them in the side of the head, crushing the warrior’s skull.

  A second one tried to kick, but he was too slow and took a hammer blow to the chest, followed by a kick to the knee. Terry started to run as the Forsaken produced a knife and slashed. The colonel jumped in between, getting sliced from shoulder to hip.

  He caught Mary Ellen’s boyfriend by the shoulder as he flew by, dragging the young man to the ground. The man spun and fired the instant he hit, stunning the Forsaken.

  One well-aimed shot from Char ended the creature’s existence.