Nomad Mortis: A Kurtherian Gambit Series (Terry Henry Walton Chronicles Book 8)

by Craig Martelle

  “Yes, sir, very well.”

  Cory looked to Ramses to ask for something special to eat, but he froze. “He’s being starved as part of their training. Could you find it in your hearts to put something together to feed my growing boy?” Cory asked pleasantly.

  “Damn! I should have known that right off. Is anyone else coming?” Mark asked.

  “I think all of them will make it here and probably pretty soon, sir,” Ramses answered.

  Mark turned to Mayra, putting his hands on her waist and his forehead on hers. “Is there any way we could open the chow line for these good people, my lover?” Mark asked.

  Cory’s jaw almost hit the floor.

  Mayra pushed him to arm’s length. “You call this a chow line one more time and you’ll find yourself sleeping outside on the sidewalk. Now, let’s see what we can do. Hungry?”

  “Oh, yes, ma’am,” Ramses replied, looking at her hopefully.

  “I guess double servings all the way around, then?” Ramses nodded, not trusting himself to open his mouth as he had started to salivate. Mark turned his head to Cory and winked.

  Clanging pans echoed from the kitchen area. “Sit down and give us five minutes. We’ll bring something out,” Mark yelled.

  “I can’t believe that. Mark and Mayra. After all these years, how did I not know?” Cory asked. Ramses was indifferent. He didn’t know either person’s history or why it was a big deal.

  “I’d rather talk about us,” he said, looking around to find that there were two oldsters huddled at a table in the far corner. It took him a second, but then he recognized one of them. “Auntie Gladys!”

  Cory looked and saw Margie Rose, asleep sitting upright, while Gladys read a book.

  Cory couldn’t help but smile. “Of course, Mister Selfish Man, but if you want to join the family of the community’s power couple, then you need to be more socially aware.”

  “I don’t have any idea what you’re talking about,” Ramses replied, slightly chastened, but leaning back, not too far to where he had to let Cory’s hand go.

  “Are we a couple?” she asked pointedly, tipping her head back to look down her nose at him.

  “I thought we were,” he stammered, unsure of where the conversation was going.

  “You have to sound far more confident than that,” she retorted, maintaining her position.

  “Hell yeah. I love you, Cory!” he blurted, leaning forward and taking her hand in both of his.

  “That’s more like it, but that’s still about you. A couple is about us. My parents are a perfect partnership. I will accept no less from my partner. Deal?” She pulled her hand from his and held it out for a handshake.

  “My partner,” he replied, finally starting to understand. “Clearly, I’m going to need help understanding women. Will you guide me?”

  “Absolutely not!” she fired back. “You only need to understand me, not any other women. And then you’ll never really understand me. Is that clear?”

  Ramses froze. He’d lost the battle of wits before he knew that he was playing. He didn’t like the fact that he kept losing, but he had a great deal to learn. “Very clear, my lover,” he responded softly.

  “That’s more like it,” she answered, leaning forward to kiss Ramses long and slow. When they pulled apart, Mark was standing there with two plates, one of them heaping with egregious amounts of ham, greens, and bread. The other held a portion more befitting a normal human.

  Ramses’s eyes sparkled as the plate was set before him.

  “I noticed that he doesn’t look at you like that,” Mark taunted.

  “Me, too,” Cory said coldly, biting her lip to keep from laughing.

  Ramses had no reply as he looked from the scarred captain who worked in the kitchen to Cordelia and back to Mark.

  Mark slapped him on the back so hard he almost knocked the table over. They rescued their plates, thanked their server, and started to dig in.

  “You coming to the wedding?” Mark asked. Cory stopped mid-bite and mumbled something.

  “Sunday, all hands on deck. We haven’t quite announced it yet,” Mark added conspiratorially.

  Cory chewed fast and swallowed. “I wouldn’t miss it for the world.”

  “It’ll be small, just a few people in the mayor’s office. I hope your parents can make it.” Mark nodded once and headed back for the kitchen.

  She had seen little of her parents since Akio’s arrival. But when she did see them, they looked as tired as the FDG’s new recruits.

  Cordelia wondered why they were training so hard. She worried because they were tight-lipped about it. In twenty-five years, she’d never seen Akio stay in North Chicago.

  The war with the Forsaken had barely started, but Cory saw how everything was ramping up. She knew that her parents, the pack, and the Force were going to escalate the war as soon as they were ready.

  She would confront them directly when next they appeared, because she was going too, and they couldn’t stop her.

  ***

  Akio was swimming ahead, setting a torrid pace as he did in every event. Gene was keeping up almost effortlessly. It made Terry wonder if he was part polar bear.

  After the first two days, Joseph had joined the group as a full member of Char’s pack. Terry understood why Joseph had waited that first day, so he could be there to help resolve the issue with the recruits.

  So he could protect Terry and Char’s children in a way that no one else could. Not even the great Terry Henry Walton.

  Joseph swam like a human, smoother than the Werewolves. He’d removed his leather clothing, but kept his hat on. Terry snickered when he’d seen that Joseph had worn a Speedo. Then Terry wondered where he’d gotten it.

  The Werewolves were splashing more than Akio liked, but he had no plans for correcting them until after they’d gone a fair way into the lake. Which meant two or three miles into the middle of nowhere before he would have their undivided attention. The Weretigers were capable swimmers, explaining that the big cats weren’t afraid of water.

  Terry had seen many who were, but chalked it up to not wanting to get such a magnificent pelt wet. He never shared his assumption with Char because he didn’t want to get the hairy eyeball regarding the implication of lesser quality wolf pelts.

  Akio finally slowed down and started treading water. The others gathered around him. Terry’s hair was wet and slicked back on his head. He told himself that he needed to shave. Forcing his scruffy half-beard through the water was more effort than he wanted to make. Akio was pushing them to their physical extremes.

  Everyone was at a different level and capable of doing different but great things. Gene would never scale a seamless building, but only Gene could lift a car without help. The Weretigers were the most agile and the Werewolf pack the most deadly as a team. The more Terry trained with the group, the more they saw that he rivaled the best of them in each task.

  Terry was able to move a car by himself, but wasn’t big enough to pick it up. By the third time scaling the building, he was able to do it quicker than everyone except the Weretigers. He was almost as fast as Akio.

  And the Marine and mercenary in him from his previous life helped him to best understand strategy and tactics. He lived for it, where the others simply learned what they needed to know for the operation.

  Akio was all about the strategy and the campaign, but his tactics were based on his superior abilities. He wasn’t intimidated by anyone in any way. Terry believed that Akio was the deadliest warrior on the planet.

  Terry hoped he was right, because he could not imagine going up against someone better.

  “Why do you think we swam out here?” Akio asked the group.

  “Because it is nice day for swim,” the irreverent Gene suggested. Akio usually didn’t reply to Gene’s jibes, understanding that he and the Werebear had a completely different understanding of why they were training in that way.

  No one else answered. Akio waited with infinite patience.
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  “Because the Forsaken could be at sea, or they could be on the edge of the sea and the only unprotected access is from the water,” Terry finally offered.

  “Yes, Terry-san, exactly right,” Akio replied.

  “Teacher’s pet,” Timmons muttered. Sue grabbed him and shoved his head under the water. He popped back up, sputtering.

  “Stop it!” Char snarled, but Akio held out his hand, motioning that it was okay. The tactical team weren’t samurai. They put their lives on hold to join the war against the Forsaken because their alpha told them that was what they were going to do.

  Terry knew that morale was critical and keeping it up was a constant challenge.

  “And you’re jealous!” Terry said, bobbing in the water as if dancing. Char looked at him as if he were a petulant child. Akio chuckled, briefly, before returning to his usual stoic self.

  “We have a couple leads, but the Forsaken will run like cockroaches when they figure out that we’re coming. Our challenge is to find, isolate, and eliminate so quickly that they cannot get the word out. When they try to coordinate, the only thing they’ll hear is silence,” Akio explained.

  “When they figure it out, we should have them back on their heels and running for cover. Right now, we’re in the driver’s seat, so we need to hit the biggest and baddest of them first. Mister Smith is somewhere in San Francisco. He’s ours. We need to find him and finish him. He is connected to at least the New Schwabenland and they appear to have established themselves in Germany. Antarctica has gotten very cold thanks to the WWDE so we don’t believe anyone is left there. Akio will hit them in Germany at the same time that we go after this Mister Smith,” Terry said, his lip curling when he said the name.

  “We swim to the middle of deep lake to talk about killing Forsaken? We could have done that from shore,” Gene suggested.

  Terry splashed at him, then the others until a wall of water cascaded over him. He submerged and disappeared.

  The pack stopped splashing and looked in the water for him. Shonna, Merrit, Butch, and Skippy started angling away from the group. Sue and Timmons swam closer to Char.

  Terry felt a hand grab his foot. He grunted, but couldn’t say a word before he was dragged under.

  Gene was relentless, swimming deeper and deeper while hauling Terry behind him.

  He must be part polar bear, Terry thought as he struggled to kick and grab the merciless hand.

  Suddenly the vice-like grip released and Terry was free. He kicked hard in the direction of the Werebear, but he couldn’t see anything. It was too dark.

  His lungs screamed as he pulled furiously for the surface. The sunlight above showed him the way. He could see the twinkle of the waves and was almost free when he was hit from behind by a battering ram.

  Or a Werebear swimming at top speed. The impact forced the last air from Terry’s lungs, but he was close enough and finally pulled his head into the open. He gulped a great breath of air before getting dragged down a second time. He hadn’t seen the others.

  They must have been behind him.

  Gene let go quickly, and Terry didn’t hesitate as he raced for the surface, dolphin kicking his way out of the water. He launched himself into the air where nearly his whole body was out before splashing back into the water.

  He breathed heavily and kicked rapidly to keep Gene from grabbing him.

  Terry spun until he could see the pack. They were fifty feet away and Gene was casually treading water with the rest of them.

  “Fucking creepy-ass lake!” Terry yelled.

  “Well, TH, you keep finding new ways for shit to suck more. Congratulations!” Timmons said, holding his hands above the water as he clapped slowly. The others joined Timmons at his funeral dirge clapping pace.

  “Who would have thought a bear could swim like a whale?” Sue asked no one in particular.

  Everyone raised their hand, even Akio.

  “Fine!” she declared.

  No one thought that she meant things were fine.

  Akio pointed toward the shore in the distance and started breast-stroking that way. Joseph tipped his hat, but the sun’s reflection from the water kept torching his skin.

  “You really have to give me the name of your dermatologist,” the Forsaken told Akio.

  “Someone is learning bad manners from Gene,” Terry whispered to Char.

  CHAPTER THIRTEEN

  North Chicago

  Terry and Akio faced each other, their swords held before them. Akio slashed quickly. Terry dodged and blocked easily, resuming his ready position.

  Akio thrust. Terry twisted and blocked. To the casual observer, it would appear as if the two opponents had hardly moved. The clang of metal on metal was the only hint that something had happened.

  Terry dove to the side, slashing toward Akio’s legs. As he rolled back to his feet, he slashed his Mameluke across the space covering the Bitch’s back. The expected attack was met and turned away.

  Akio walked to the side, adjusting his grip on his katana. He ducked and danced forward, sending a flurry of slashes at the colonel. Terry blocked most of them, but Akio was faster, stronger, and better with the blade.

  The last slash tore through Terry’s shirt and traced a line from his shoulder to his waist, deep enough to end the bout as Terry flopped to the ground. He didn’t lose his sword, but it hung uselessly in his hand. Had he been a normal human, he would have been in his death throes. But not TH, he was already healing.

  Cordelia had been watching, because this was supposed to be the final day of training. She brushed past the other watchers to get to her father, where she immediately placed her hands on the gaping wound. The blue glow lit the laceration around her fingers and the flesh quickly knitted itself back together.

  “Fuck, that hurt,” Terry said as he sat up, accepting Cory’s help to stand. He bowed to Akio and put his sword back in its scabbard.

  “Terry-san. That is the longest that anyone besides the Queen or my fellow Bitches has lasted. You are to be commended.” Akio bowed deeply.

  “I don’t know what to say, Akio-sama, but I don’t feel very commendable,” Terry replied.

  “You will be able to stand against the Forsaken known as Mister Smith as long as your friends are able to shoot him with silver bullets. You win as a team, right, Terry-san?” Akio prodded.

  “Definitely not feeling the commendability,” Terry said, looking at his ruined shirt.

  He was almost completely healed. It had been two minutes since he’d suffered a near-killing blow.

  “Shall we?” Akio asked. Terry nodded.

  “We’ll discuss the plan in Akio’s pod.” Terry pointed the way and started walking. Char took his hand.

  “You looked great out there, TH,” she said, purple eyes sparkling in the afternoon sun.

  “It’s been a good two months, and I think we’re as ready as we’ll ever be,” Terry answered. “And thank you, lover. It’ll be nice to have a day off. Maybe we can take the sailboat out?”

  “Would you two stop?” Joseph said from behind them. “You give the rest of humanity a bad name. How old are you anyway?”

  “Never ask a woman how old she is,” Char countered, but her mind betrayed her.

  “You don’t look a day over one-twenty-five,” Joseph joked. Terry was pushing one hundred, but they both looked young and fit. The nanocytes kept them from aging, just until they couldn’t, and then, like Gladys, they would grow old quickly.

  Until then, Terry and Char felt like young lovers and were almost always ready to get away for some private time.

  “How old are you?” Terry asked. He knew that Joseph had already been established during the American Revolution, but wasn’t sure how long before that he came into existence.

  “I’m not quite four hundred, although Akio’s workouts made me feel like it more often than not,” Joseph replied.

  “Holy shit,” Terry said.

  “I’ll say,” Cory added, working her way close to the Fors
aken. “Damn, Uncle Joe! I would have guessed you’re like five hundred years old. I guess I gave you more credit for being an old dude. You know lots of stuff. Maybe you could be a teacher?”

  “Maybe,” Joseph allowed, but he had no intention of ever droning on in a classroom full of snot-nosed kids.

  They boarded the pod—a Vampire, seven Werewolves, a Werebear, two Weretigers, a Forsaken, and two enhanced humans. The FDG’s tactical team, the premier fighting unit on the planet, as Akio had told them time and time again.

  “We are going to San Francisco, but we can’t tip our hand by sending anyone the Forsaken could sense. We are sending three recon teams, two people each from the FDG. They will have comm devices and be in constant contact. We will pre-stage a pod with the tac team in the mountains to the northeast.

  “Once the Forsaken known as Mister Smith is located, then we’ll be able to attack and remove him. I’ll be with the FDG teams because he won’t be able to sense me unless we’re face to face,” Terry said.

  “I would suggest a different course of action. Since one of his creations could read minds, it follows that he is a mind reader. I would suggest you stay as far away as possible from him,” Akio countered.

  “The FDG has the same shortcoming,” Terry countered. “But I can stay on the outskirts, away from the action, and if Eve can get a more precise location if Mister Smith chooses to transmit again, then we would be able to expedite our efforts.”

  Akio nodded. “I will need a platoon of your warriors and the two Weretigers for operations in Germany.

  “But they’re in my pack,” Char replied swiftly.

  “And only with your approval will they join me,” Akio answered, tipping his head toward Char.

  She chewed on the inside of her cheek as she thought it through. That left her with Gene and six Werewolves and as many from the FDG as they could fit in their pod.

  “We need more silver,” she told Akio.

  ***

  “Today is the day, ladies!” Boris bellowed at the group. Thirty-nine warriors stood tall in the ranks behind their squad leaders, Kim, Kae, and Marcie. Once the colonel’s kids had joined the platoon, the lieutenant’s life became a great deal easier.