Nomad's Fury

by Craig Martelle

  A roar announced to the world that Gene had changed into a Were-bear. He rumbled off the pod, drawing all fire to himself. Bogdan followed at a reasonable distance. No one seemed to notice the smaller bear with Gene making all the noise and running directly for the door of the building where the shooting was coming from.

  The Force stopped firing as they watched Gene pound past, the ground shaking with his steps. Those in the building hadn’t stopped firing and they were shooting at Gene.

  “Fire!” Mark yelled, hoping to cover Gene for whatever the Were-bear had in mind.

  The Werewolves ran from the pod and took cover. Timmons joined Mark. “There aren’t many people in this building, but in the next one over, there’s a shitload,” Timmons informed him.

  Mark thought for a moment. “We clear this one and use it as a base to secure the next building over. The third one is where the Forsaken is,” Mark said, thinking out loud.

  “We’ll just wait. Gene will clear this building by himself. You probably need to have your people ready when the enemy comes running out, terrified.” Timmons smiled and watched by peeking out from behind an old, rusted car.

  ***

  Sue stared at the next building over.

  “What do you see?” Terry asked as he listened to the firefight around the corner. It was interrupted by a Were-bear’s roar, the sound of a door splintering, and then the firing stopped, followed by more roaring as Gene let the world know that he’d conquered his enemies.

  “People moving to the windows. Get down!” Sue pulled Terry to the side and he used his body to shield Char as all three of them tumbled to the ground. They crawled to the other side of a stairway into the building before them.

  “Do they have guns?” Terry asked.

  Sue shrugged. “Maybe?”

  “Fuck them,” Terry snarled. He jacked a 40mm CS grenade into the launcher attached to his rifle, leaned around the corner, aimed over the top of his barrel, and pulled the trigger. The grenade foomped from the barrel and lobbed through the window.

  Terry opened the launcher and dumped the empty, replacing it with another gas grenade. He wasn’t ready to start blowing things up. He checked Char’s wound. The bullet had grazed her arm and impacted her flak jacket. The tear in the skin was closed and if it weren’t for the torn shirt, he would have never known she’d been shot.

  With some shouting, six unkempt men and women were shoved bodily down the steps. Terry pointed where they were supposed to go, but the detainees snarled and snapped like wild animals.

  He grabbed one woman by her hair and twisted. The bite marks on her neck were there, but only one set. Terry showed Char and Sue. They weren’t sure what to think. If they’d been fed on, why were these people acting like they were defending the Alamo?

  Terry flung the woman from him. The Force moved them to the containment area where five oldsters were now running the show. They felt sympathetic, but only so far. One of them showed the newcomers his scars and that seemed to calm them. Then the other oldsters pulled their collars down.

  The group of detainees became very quiet.

  “Time to go,” Terry said, putting his war face back on. He growled as he pointed where he wanted his men to take up their positions.

  ***

  On cue, three of the enemy ran out the front door as they tried to get away from the rampaging bears inside.

  “Put down your weapons!” Mark yelled, but that only encouraged them to shoot at him while they ran. The Force opened up, and all three died in a hail of bullets.

  Mark modified his orders. “If they come out of the building armed, light ‘em up.”

  “Nope. That place is clear,” Timmons told the sergeant. “Now how do you want to go after this next building?”

  Mark thought how the Weres were making it easy. They were doing the heavy lifting of assault and gathering intelligence. At least Timmons was letting the sergeant act like he was in charge.

  “Tear gas. We’ll smoke them out.” Mark listened. There was intermittent fire from where the first tactical team was moving closer from the other side, isolating the building with the Forsaken.

  Mark loaded a gas grenade into his launcher. The others with the M4s followed suit. The sergeant fired first, taking his best guess on the aim.

  His best guess wasn’t very good.

  The grenade hit five feet below the second story window, bounced off the brick, and fell on the ground where it created a gas barrier between the building and the street.

  “Aim high!” he yelled. The second man to fire sent his grenade over the top of the building. The other three adjusted and fired. One grenade out of five went through a window. Tear gas was massing in front of the building, obscuring the lower windows and crawling slowly toward the sergeant and his people.

  “Put a grenade through each of the windows there, sharpshooter,” Mark ordered and handed his last 40mm CS grenade to Lacy. She systematically fired the remainder of their stock through five of the six windows. By then, it was time to move, unless they wanted to get run over by the approaching gas cloud.

  Mark took three handheld CS grenades and gave them to Timmons. “If you’d be so kind as to pop these through the bottom windows, I would greatly appreciate it.”

  Timmons took the grenades. “Good call, the people are massing on the first floor. This should chase them out the back door.”

  “Wait.” Mark held out a hand. “Where will they go once they clear out the back?”

  Gene roared and ran from the building he’d cleared. Bogdan was close on his tail. He was heading for the building shrouded in CS, but stopped, because Bogdan slid to a stop, then ran back toward the pod.

  “What will they do when they go out the back? Who knows…” Timmons replied and ran for the building, pulling the first pin with his teeth.

  ***

  “How many?” Terry asked without turning around. Char and Sue conferred.

  “Twenty-two,” they finally said. “And we think they have weapons.”

  “How in the fuck did they get such firepower?” Terry grumbled as he stood up and made himself a target. His ability to heal allowed him to take risks that he wouldn’t let his people take.

  “Listen up! I will give you to the count of ten to come out of that building or we will burn the place down,” Terry bellowed. Even someone half-deaf would have heard him. “Ten!”

  The CS poured out of the downstairs windows. Terry could hear people coughing and hacking. He felt a morbid pleasure in listening to their suffering. Somebody took a shot at him from one of the upper windows. The round bounced off the street two feet to his side. He pointed to the window where the shot came from.

  “Light ‘em up,” he said in a low voice. The mix of AK-47s and M4s barked a deadly staccato. No more shots came from the now destroyed window.

  “Nine!” Terry yelled. Someone fired at him from a different window. “Zero!”

  Terry stood in the open, changing out the gas round for a high-explosive grenade as his people fired into the windows of the building. He aimed and launched the grenade through a second story window. The explosion threw glass and debris into the street.

  Terry reloaded with a second grenade that he sent into the third story window. He looked at Char. “Maybe ten left,” she told him.

  Joseph stood calmly by her side, making no move to help.

  “Clear that building!” he ordered, waving his hand forward. He swung wide and kept his rifle trained on the windows. Boris led his squad up the stairs and into the building. There was yelling and the first of the former inhabitants stumbled out, followed by a grim-faced Force private.

  “What are these fuckers thinking, Joseph?”

  “They believe the Vampire is their god and when he feeds on them, they become one with him, but not that many have been fed on. We will have no problem with the others, I think,” Joseph replied.

  Shots were fired inside, then more. Terry couldn’t contain himself. He ran up the stairs, throwing
the civilians out of the way in order to get in. He climbed to the second floor where the shots had come from.

  The area was trashed from the force of Terry’s grenade, but many had survived. They’d set up an ambush and Boris had walked into it, but he had taken them out. Charlie was by his side, holding his hand.

  Terry swept the area quickly to make sure there wouldn’t be any more surprises before joining Boris on the floor. Terry motioned for the others to finish clearing the third floor.

  “Kinda walked into it, sir,” Boris managed to say, blood bubbling out of his mouth as he talked. One of the enemy had used armor-piercing bullets and they’d gone right through Boris’s flak jacket.

  “You’ll be all right, son, just hold on,” Terry tried to console the man, but they both knew it wasn’t true.

  “I’m sorry,” Boris stammered as his eyes fluttered.

  “You would have been welcome in my Marine Corps any day, Boris. You were as good as any Marine I ever served with,” he told the corporal.

  Boris exhaled one last time and that was it. Terry picked him up and carried him to the landing as his warriors roughly pushed three people down the stairs. They staggered and stumbled, still shell-shocked from the grenade that had been tossed their way.

  Charlie stopped and without saying a word, held out his arms so that he could help carry his friend. Terry shook his head as he repositioned Boris over his shoulder.

  “I need you in the fight. We have a little more work to do before we get the fucker responsible for this. Are you with me, Corporal?” Terry asked, as he promoted Charlie to take over the squad.

  Charlie saluted and took the stairs three at a time as he followed the others into the street.

  Terry looked back at the ruin of the building.

  “Fucking Forsaken, you started this, but I’m going to finish it,” Terry told the body he carried. “Everything we do matters. This matters, maybe not today, Boris, but in a century? Yeah. What we’re doing here will shape the future and in a good way. We have to believe that, otherwise the sacrifices are too great.”

  Terry set his jaw and walked down the steps.

  CHAPTER TWENTY

  Timmons tossed the gas grenades in and waited. He used the gas cover to strip and change into Were form. He howled with all he had and was joined by Gene’s window-shaking roar. The people started to pour out the back. Some opened the front door where Gene ran them over without hesitating. He ripped into the crowd of people, slashing and biting, driving them away in a blind panic.

  Timmons ran into the Were-bear and snapped at him, before ducking away. Mark ran into the building behind them, his shirt pulled tightly over his face, but his eyes were watering almost too much to see.

  Gene stood on his back legs and tore a fixture from the ceiling as he railed at not being able to wreak havoc on the mass of humanity fleeing before him. Timmons snapped his jaws at the final few to encourage them to quicken their pace.

  They ran over their fellows in the rush out the back door. Timmons changed back into human form so he could block the exit, so the people couldn’t return. Mark tried to help but was wracked by a coughing fit when he inhaled too much of the tear gas.

  Gene used his massive body to move half a room’s worth of furniture against the door. Mark decided that it would hold long enough as he staggered toward the front of the building where he found Shonna and Merrit waiting, standing in a cloud of gas as if it were nothing.

  And to them, it wasn’t.

  Mark envied them as he stumbled down the front steps and across the street to the ruined buildings there where he put his hands on his knees and coughed until he puked.

  ***

  Terry walked from the building carrying Boris’s body. He continued to the detainment area and gently laid the man on the ground. The oldsters stood. A couple placed hands over their hearts while the others saluted.

  The detainees looked away. They didn’t care as they’d seen many of their friends die that day. One of them turned back and stood up, his hands tied behind his back. “Fuck you! Fuck all you!” the man yelled.

  Terry was in no mood to be F-bombed.

  He stalked up to the man and grabbed him by the collar. The man spit in Terry’s face. At the speed of thought, Terry lifted the man using one arm and body-slammed him to the ground, but only hard enough to cause the man a little pain and agony.

  “Listen here, cockwad. You fucking assholes fired at us before the door even opened. If you would have waited and talked, we could have avoided all of this. You started this fight by shooting first. So no, fuck you, because there’s twenty of your buddies lying dead in their own blood and the rest are out here, tied up and whining like a bunch of hungry puppies.”

  Terry looked closely at the single bite on the man’s neck. “Bitten once and loyal for life? You know it doesn’t turn out well for lowly humans, just ask these guys. And one last thing,” Terry said as he pursed his lips and made to spit on the man. But his honor prevented him. “Don’t spit on me or my people again. I will untie you, and then I will beat you to death with my bare hands.”

  Terry stood and moved away, but stopped to rest his hand for a moment on Boris’s still form, then stalked off, his face set. The mission was coming to its apex.

  He gathered the Force de Guerre, the Werewolves, and Joseph for one final brief.

  “Blocking positions, there, there, and in the basement of this place.” Terry pointed to corners of the brownstone and across the street. He stabbed a finger at the lower windows of the small building next door, the one where Boris had died. “In case he has a tunnel or some other escape route. I want Sue in the back alley. James, take half a squad and give them cover. The rest of the squad, you’re in the basement. You others out front with Char and me.”

  Each group ran crouched to find their positions and prepare for the final battle.

  ***

  Terry crossed the street, hugging the ruins that faced the brownstone. The houses facing the brownstone seemed like they’d been systematically destroyed, so no one could oppose the Forsaken and his lackeys.

  Terry saw Mark coming up the street toward him. The man zigzagged as he ran, while Terry stood still. Char joined him and Terry took a position between her and the brownstone.

  “No one in the windows, but there are people in there, the basement and upstairs. The basement is two levels deep, by the way. Our buddy has dug himself quite the hole.”

  Joseph strolled up, hands clasped behind his back as if he were taking a stroll on a sunny day. It was bright with a crystal blue sky, but cool in Queens. No one else had noticed as they’d been too busy, but Joseph had taken it in. He decided that he preferred the weather in Chicago.

  “Sir, buildings to the left of the target have been secured,” Mark reported breathlessly. His eyes were red and puffy, and his face swollen from too much exposure to the tear gas.

  Char suppressed a chuckle. “How in the hell…” Terry asked.

  “You made the grenade launcher look easy, sir. I’m sorry to admit that we gassed ourselves.” Mark blinked rapidly, hoping his tears would wash away the aptly named agent.

  “Kiwi and Billy? Any casualties?” Terry asked.

  “None, no injuries. I caught a little bullet shrapnel, but I’m fine,” Mark said as his nose ran uncontrollably.

  “Bring your detainees to the area over there and deliver them,” Terry ordered.

  Mark shook his head. “We don’t have any. They didn’t want to come willingly and Gene was more than happy to oblige them.”

  Terry felt the pain as it stabbed him right in the heart. If he had adopted that same approach, then Boris would still be alive. Fuck it all to hell, he thought.

  “Then go get me Timmons and his bunch.” Terry slapped the man on the back, then looked at his hand as it was splattered with blood and tear gas. Mark jogged away, staggering as he blinked in the hopes that he’d soon be able to see clearly again.

  Gene ambled down the roadway in h
is Were-bear form with the grizzly cub following closely. Bogdan had rejoined Gene once he had left the tear gas-filled area.

  Terry whistled. Surprise was no longer an issue. Gene rumbled toward them. The sight was probably unnerving for anyone other than Terry Henry Walton and his partner Charumati.

  Timmons was still buttoning his shirt when he jogged into view with Shonna and Merrit on his tail.

  Timmons was first to speak. “He’s moving.” Char nodded.

  Terry pulled the communication device from his pocket. Before Terry could speak, Akio said, “Thank you.”

  He signed off before Terry could finish his thought.

  Akio looked like he was walking slowly, but he flowed past and was into the brownstone before they could blink. Joseph followed him. “Not you,” Terry said, but Joseph didn’t stop.

  “Motherfucker,” Terry yelled and came out of the blocks at a full sprint, tackling Joseph as he was about to climb the steps. Terry drilled the Forsaken in the side of the head with a powerful right cross. Joseph’s had slammed into the step. The Vampire blinked to get his focus back.

  “My apologies, Terry Henry Walton. I didn’t mean to ignore you, but I was attempting to look into the mind of my brother down below,” Joseph said as he relaxed.

  Terry let him up, but only to look him in the eye. “He’s your brother?”

  “In spirit only. My fraternal brothers are all gone, I believe. This one here is very dangerous, but Akio is not to be trifled with. I would love to watch the fight,” Joseph requested.

  “I think we would be in the way, so let’s stay right here, shall we?” Terry said and leaned against the concrete wall at the side of the stairway. He looked away for an instant to wave Timmons to him.

  Joseph appeared to be ready to go inside. Terry stepped forward and grabbed his arm firmly. “If you try to go in there, I will kill you. I promised Akio that I would clear the way for him to deal with the creature below. And that’s exactly what I’m going to do.”