Nomad Omnibus 03: A Kurtherian Gambit Series (A Terry Henry Walton Chronicles Omnibus)

by Craig Martelle

  Kae and Marcie helped as much as they could, but their children and the others riding the train were not happy about moving. They couldn’t visualize what San Francisco was and why it was important to rip them from their homes and their friends.

  Mary Ellen had left a budding boyfriend behind. She was being impossible, sullen and snide. William liked what he liked—his grandmother Felicity, the diner, the wolves. At least he had an old Clovis to keep him company. He didn’t understand why his sister was bitching about everything in the loudest voice possible.

  He didn’t understand how her current complaints related to her former boyfriend, which was her real issue. She wasn’t quite old enough to be left behind, but she swore that as soon as she was old enough, she’d make her way back to North Chicago, walking the whole way if she had to.

  “Screw that,” William said as he found a seat as far away from her as possible while still being on the same train.

  It took two days to pull as much track as they could fit on the train. Wood ties were bundled and tied everywhere, including stacked on the car roofs. It took eight hours to travel the forty-mile return trip because of their precariously packed load.

  When they returned, they discovered that nothing had happened in their absence.

  Terry expected the sky to fall at any moment. Despite the delays, things were going well and every time they went too well, something bad happened. He was convinced karma had its slap-hand ready to lay another one on him.

  Not this time. Three weeks later, the train turned south in what used to be Washington on a trip down the coast toward San Francisco.

  “Feels like we were just here,” Terry said, pointing north with his thumb.

  “It was our last trip out.” Char looked north. It had been three years. Over a thousand days.

  “Time stands still,” Terry said.

  “It’s scary. I’m not even sure how old I am anymore.”

  “Ain’t that right. I know because I know that kind of shit. It’s the sixty-eighth year after the end of the world as we knew it. It is forty-eight years since your pack chased me to Margie Rose. It is forty-eight years since you came into my life.” Terry recited the timeline as if quoting the bible.

  “Stop it! You make me sound old.”

  “You are old!” Terry stopped himself, but too late. The damage was done. Char gave him the stink-eye. “Umm, want some beef jerky?”

  “Really,” she said coldly.

  “Am I in trouble?” Terry asked softly.

  “You’re always in trouble.”

  “Status quo, then.”

  Cory leaned out of her seat. “Really? You’re both like two hundred years old. You’re both old. Accept it.”

  “We’ve raised a total delinquent,” Char claimed.

  “I believe you have,” Cory replied.

  “You’re not too old for a spanking!” Terry said.

  “Really?” she repeated.

  “Maybe you are that old!” Terry declared checkmate, but the last play had not yet been made.

  “If I’m that old, what’s that make you?”

  TH’s smile vanished.

  “Nicely played, lover. What’s your next trick, shoot water out your nostril?”

  “You ganged up on me. It wasn’t fair.” Terry stood, bowed his head to the victors, and headed for the engine where he hoped to find some peace and quiet in the deafening sound of a steam engine carrying the FDG to a new home.

  San Francisco

  Sue, Timmons, Boris, and the rest of the welcoming committee were there when the train rolled to a final stop east of San Francisco. They would have to offload the weapons, ammunition, and other FDG supplies onto waiting trucks to move to Treasure Island, where Boris had his people refurbishing for occupation and exclusive use by the FDG. It had bunkers for weapons and ammunition storage, as well as barracks and everything they needed for a military base.

  It was better than Terry had hoped.

  With manpower in the hundreds, it took no time to move everything to its new home and for Terry to declare the relocation complete.

  “If I had a flag, I’d plant it here and we’d fly it proudly.”

  Boris pulled a small flag from his cargo pocket, a U.S. flag, and handed it to the colonel.

  “I don’t know what to say, Skipper.” Terry shook the flag out. The stars and stripes spoke to him, from all those years ago, when he served under Old Glory and the Constitution. He served a higher ideal.

  Terry stiffened. “Tomorrow, we start integrating the groups, and getting people ready to establish garrisons around the world. Our mission is worldwide. Now let the warriors know. There’s a new sheriff in town and we have some work to do.”

  Boris grinned. “Yes, sir!” He limped heavily away. Terry wondered how he was mobile at all.

  He hurried after the captain. “Boris,” he said in a low voice. “Put yourself on desk duty. Stop pushing that leg. Next thing you know, your back will be fucked up and your body will give out on you.”

  The captain hung his head. “Too late, Colonel. I’ll do as you order, but I’m on the home stretch. This dude is fixing to cash in, as some around here might say.”

  “Understood, Skipper. Then you better get to work training your replacement.” Terry smiled. He wasn’t being callous. It was the Marine way. No matter how bad off you were, you didn’t abandon your post. You made sure it was covered, even if it was the last thing you did.

  Which, in Boris’s case, it looked like it would be. Terry looked closer and realized that the man probably had cancer of some sort and it was eating him alive.

  “Whatever you need, Boris. Let me know and I’ll make it happen.”

  “No, sir. I’m good.” Boris turned and limped away, walking more slowly than he had been as he stopped trying to show the colonel that he was in less pain than he actually was.

  Terry sighed as he returned to making sure that all the people were settled into their quarters. Food and a place to sleep were the best ways to make someone feel comfortable in a new place.

  CHAPTER THIRTY-TWO

  San Francisco

  They’d been training hard for months, working straight through the harsh winter weather. Terry pushed them, constantly forcing them to dig deep. And he gave them plenty of time off in between.

  All the while, he hoped that Akio would call with news that the Forsaken were rising.

  But they weren’t. Every time he talked with Akio, it was more of the same. The Forsaken had gone to ground and were staying there.

  “Isn’t that what you want? You wanted to remove the Forsaken threat to humanity. They removed themselves. Maybe it’s time to celebrate your victory,” Char suggested.

  “They’re like cockroaches. When one of them finally raises its ugly head, it’ll be followed by a bunch more, scurrying from the daylight.” Terry was convinced they were trying to wait him out, wait for him to drop his guard. Then they would show up in vast numbers.

  Char didn’t see how that was possible. They hadn’t been feeding in the major population centers. If they were trying to grow their ranks, Nosferatu would start to pop up. The population’s terror would come through loud and clear, but there was nothing. Char was convinced that the Forsaken numbers were small and that they were deep in hiding, possibly to never return to the world of man except to feed when they could no longer go without.

  “We’ve already seen them pop up and there were only four. If you try to keep the Force on edge, you’ll lose them. They can’t ping like you can. They’ll break down, and when you finally need them, they’ll be useless to you,” Char explained.

  Terry was about to reply when a piercing scream came from nearby.

  “Kimber!” Char yelled and they both took off running. Cory appeared from her quarters with Ramses as she headed in the same direction. Boris had put Terry and all his kids in what had been officer housing.

  Terry would have complained that he didn’t need anything that big or nice, but he appr
eciated being surrounded by his family.

  They dashed through the open door to the sound of Kim’s wailing. When they arrived, they found her berating Auburn in between screams of pain.

  Terry started to laugh, which earned him a punch in the arm. Cory kneeled next to the bed, taking Kim’s head in her hands. She calmed immediately as Cory helped with her pain.

  “Is the midwife coming?” Terry asked. They’d had one in North Chicago, but he had no idea about San Francisco. When Ramses showed up moments later, Terry sent him to get Boris, a truck, and to find a midwife.

  The world after the WWDE did not have modern medicine. Terry didn’t know if that would ever return. The books were there, but no one was left with the knowledge and experience. Teaching yourself doctoring from books without any practical training would be hit or miss, to say the least.

  Ramses hadn’t returned by the time the baby came. Char and Cory delivered the little boy while Terry and Auburn helped Kim breathe.

  As soon as the baby was in the world, he started to cry. They wiped him off and handed him to his mother, whose nanocytes were already starting to heal her. Cory helped where she could and they expected that Kim would be back to herself in a day, maybe less.

  It was the miracle of Kurtherian medicine.

  “Is he special?” Kim asked.

  “All babies are special,” Char replied. “If you are asking if he has nanocytes, I don’t know. Only time will tell, sweetie. Congratulations on the birth of your son. He’s gorgeous.”

  Terry and Char got busy cleaning the room, to give Kim and Auburn one less thing to worry about. As Terry, Char, and Cory were leaving, a truck screeched to a stop outside, where a couple of older women piled out and ran toward the house. Ramses beamed as he helped Boris down from the cab.

  “Missed it,” Terry informed them.

  Ramses threw his hands up in surrender.

  “A little boy,” Char reported. Cory escorted Ramses and Boris back into the house to deliver their well wishes, while Terry and Char went home.

  WWDE + 70

  Yevpatoriya

  Gene and Fu stood in the town square, ready to christen the new road. With the appearance of a truck from the north and a boat from the Mediterranean, Yevpatoriya had the potential to turn into a trade hub. That meant more people, infrastructure, and a modern world. Someone had power to produce the things that moved the world. Gene wanted Fu and their children, Bogdan and Anastasia, to enjoy modern conveniences.

  “What a great world we live in!” Gene bellowed in Russian. “Today marks the first day that Yevpatoriya is the hub of a rejuvenated Crimea, of a new Russia!”

  The small gathering cheered, having never lost their patriotism for a mythical mother Russia, a place none of them knew. Not a single person that Gene looked at had been alive on the WWDE. Russia and some parts of China had borne the brunt of the nuclear attacks. Russia had suffered the worst of it.

  Gene lowered his arms when the cheering died down. He looked at the eager faces, wanting to tell them more, but trade flowing through the area depended on them to make it happen.

  “Every word you say to these people matters to me, matters to Yevpatoriya. Be kind and treat our guests with respect. If there is any friction, please let me know. I will make sure that newcomers understand the boundaries. I don’t want to intimidate them, but hey, this is me…” Gene smiled broadly and the citizens of his town cheered and laughed.

  Gene was a beast. He towered over all of them. Bogdan was big already. At five years old, he was the size of most adults. He would rival Gene in stature. Anastasia was petite like her mother, twice as old as Bogdan, but the boy towered over her, too.

  “Go and do great things for our town, great things for Mother Russia!” Gene bellowed before starting his walkabout to take the pulse of the citizens before getting to work. The road needed more work to establish a better link to their new port facility. No one could match Gene’s physical strength when it came to back-breaking labor.

  “Don’t be late for dinner. You know we’re having guests tonight,” Fu told Gene in Russian.

  “Da, konechno,” Gene said, smiling before kissing his wife. Yes, of course.

  Fu slapped Bogdan’s hand as he tried to snag a kolachki from a vendor’s stand. Despite his size, he was only five years old and had much to learn about social decorum. Fu didn’t have to wonder where the boy got his manners from as she watched Gene stuff three blini at once into his mouth and continue to talk while chewing.

  She shook her head and smiled. Fu wouldn’t have him any other way.

  San Francisco

  “Aren’t you so sweet!” Char told the precocious two-year old. Kailan giggled as he toddled away. Kimber watched as Auburn maneuvered to intercept his son before he made it outside.

  “I can’t believe it’s been two years already,” Kim said, watching the wrestling match as Kailan didn’t want to be picked up. Auburn turned him upside-down and blew a raspberry on his stomach. The boy giggled and then kicked Auburn in the face. He was rewarded by being put on the floor, where he took off running as soon as his feet touched. He tripped over the edge of a doorway seam and did a face-plant.

  Kim strolled over to pick up the crying toddler and checked to make sure that there wasn’t too much blood. Some was okay, of course. Kai was a bundle of energy and accidents happened.

  They had the added benefit of living in a small community with family close by. And a five hundred-person strong Force de Guerre.

  The consummate warrior stood tall, wearing a tank top and his camouflage pants. His M1911A1 was secured in his shoulder holster and his Mameluke sword was strapped across his back. His whip was tied to his belt and his silvered knife was secured in a sheath along the back of his belt. Terry Henry waited in the street for Char. Today was game day. The units were pitted in a heavy competition of platoon versus platoon.

  Contests were organized to test both the mental and physical acumen of the warriors as well as the ability of the unit to work as a single entity.

  Terry bounced from foot to foot as he stretched, anxious to get started. He loved these kinds of contests. Even though he wasn’t participating, he’d take part in all of them in one way or another.

  He jerked in surprise as the comm device buzzed. He took it from his pants pocket and answered quickly, hoping they had a mission and that the pod was on its way.

  “It’s still five to ten years away, Terry-san, before the pods are ready, but they are taking shape. These will be better than the New Schwabenland pod you were used to,” Akio said, his voice crystal clear over the always-functional unit that received much abuse while on Terry’s person.

  “Akio-sama. You didn’t call to tell me that.” Terry and Akio had grown close, which meant that sometimes Terry wasn’t as tactful or respectful as he should have been. He hoped that Akio would forgive his impudence.

  “The center of the target is yours, Terry-san. I have not been completely forthcoming with you. There are six more here, like me,” Akio said softly. Terry was shocked. Why hadn’t they been available? “During the cataclysm, they were in one of the few places here in Japan that crumbled. They are buried beneath a massive pile of granite. If we break the main stone, the structure will cave in and kill them. If we don’t break it, then we can’t get to them. They sleep until we can get to them. Once we get enough pods, we may be able to support that stone until we can rescue the others.”

  “Six more like you. That would change the entire dynamic of our war. I think that would also mean that you wouldn’t need the FDG.” Terry was thinking out loud, thinking how the revelation would affect him personally, and not about how it virtually guaranteed them domination over the Forsaken.

  Terry shook his head to clear out the cobwebs.

  “I thought it was time you knew,” Akio said as a way to apologize.

  “Thank you, Akio-sama, but why now?”

  “Even one with my patience has limits.”

  “I see. Thank y
ou again for sharing.” Terry didn’t see at all. If they could free the other six, then Terry would be superfluous. The tac team would no longer be necessary. The FDG could deal with the humans while Akio and his like would take care of the Forsaken or hostile Were.

  They would dominate the Unknown World. Bethany Anne had left them behind for just that reason, but she never planned on losing them. Terry filled the void. Terry Henry and a Were pack had taken the place of six of Bethany Anne’s bitches.

  Fucking A!

  Terry grinned. “We’re here for you, Akio-sama, for as long as you need us. When the Forsaken raise their ugly heads, if the six aren’t yet rescued, then we’ll hit them so hard their grandchildren will have bruises.”

  “If we hit them right, there will be no grandchildren, Terry-san,” Akio replied and clicked off.

  “I couldn’t agree more, Akio-san,” Terry told the silent device.

  Char strolled up with Kimber at her side. Auburn waved from the doorway, a firm grip on the boy who wanted to go, too.

  “Bring him later, after my platoon has dominated everyone and we win the award,” Kim stated matter-of-factly.

  “That’s what you think, huh? I don’t think you know what you’re in for.” Terry looked at her, expecting that her platoon would be competitive, but Terry designed two of the platoon tests specifically with her in mind. They demanded patience. She was still learning that brute force wasn’t the answer. He had to remind her repeatedly regarding the two bullet holes she carried. They were healed and there were no scars, but that didn’t mean they weren’t there.

  Kaeden and Marcie walked up. “Loser,” Kae casually told his sister.

  She gave him the finger, then realized that William and Mary Ellen were with them. Kim mumbled an apology.

  Mary Ellen laughed, in good spirits as she was often because of a new boyfriend who served in the FDG. She worked at the mess facility and they were setting up the barbecue. She knew that once things got going, she’d be able to sneak away and see her hunk of man candy, as she described it.