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

by Craig Martelle

  “Keep up the fire. We have a little work left and then they’re coming down.”

  Terry clicked off and returned to work.

  ***

  Kim called the pack to recover them from their positions where they were sitting and watching, or in their minds, doing nothing. They were happy to recover.

  Gene was still in his pod with Bogdan watching over him. He’d come to and wanted to join the others to root out any Forsaken survivors. It was heading toward the late afternoon and he was late for dinner. Fu would be angry with him, but if they won, maybe he would not have to leave again.

  The Werewolves were anxious to get going as well. Ted wanted to go home.

  Aaron watched, in Were form, while Yanmei and the cubs splashed around in the river that ran through the area they were assigned. A warrior with a comm device had been assigned to watch over them and relay orders. When he received the call, he cautiously approached Aaron.

  “You need to return to the rally point. The pods…” the young man looked around, spotted where the pods were and pointed. “Over there.”

  Aaron snarled and growled. Yanmei batted at the cubs to get them going in the indicated direction. They ran around for a little while before lying down. Aaron picked up two in his mouth and Yanmei picked up two. They looked at the young man. He wrestled briefly with the final two, getting scratched on both arms, but he tolerated it. Once the Werecubs relaxed, they both went to sleep in his arms.

  Joseph and Petricia never left the area of the pods. She was on the edge of being overwhelmed, so they remained in the shade as Joseph talked about everything that was going on with Terry Henry Walton and the FDG. Andrew had taken a position nearby as well.

  He was jealous that Joseph had found a female Forsaken, a pure one who had not tasted human blood. He was happy for him, too.

  CHAPTER FORTY-FIVE

  “I think we’re set,” Terry said. Char stood with her fists on her hips.

  “Fuck no!” she replied. Terry couldn’t meet her eyes, flaring purple in her angst. “You think you’re the only one who can sacrifice?”

  “Someone has to pull the trigger,” Terry replied. The switch required manual activation. Someone had to push the button, and the only way to do it was beneath hundreds of pounds of explosives and thousands of tons of steel.

  Akio stepped between them. “There is no debate. I will do it. I will escape without getting injured, and you will eliminate Mister Smith. That is how it will be,” Akio stated firmly. Yuko bowed in respect and Akio returned her bow.

  Terry didn’t know what to say, but the train was about to leave the station. He slapped Akio on the back. “See you in the fight,” Terry said as he and Char ran for the stairs.

  One platoon maintained sporadic fire as Terry, Char, and Yuko ran from the tower. The warriors stopped firing and in a semi-orderly fashion, ran like hell.

  When they were clear, Terry didn’t need to do anything except turn. The flash of light came first and then the explosion. Massive sections of girders were torn away and sent flying through the air. The tower remained upright as the smoke and heat billowed outward.

  Terry waited. He’d seen it before. The most spectacular results weren’t instantaneous. Maybe Akio had known that, too. Terry saw the small figure, dressed all in black, leap from the right side of the viewing platform. He disappeared as he hit the ground and rolled away.

  The Eiffel Tower groaned and squealed under the strain. They couldn’t see the movement, at first, but it leaned, slowly, then more and more quickly as it lost its battle with gravity.

  The tower peeled away above the blown-out sections and fell, slamming into the ground to send dirt and steel outward in a final cry of pain.

  “GO!” Terry yelled.

  Gene, in human form, tried to run by, but limped horribly and slowed to a stop while Bogdan stayed by his side, axe at the ready.

  “What the fuck, Gene?” Terry exclaimed as he passed.

  “It is my way,” the Werebear admitted.

  “Stay here!” Terry ordered and ran in the direction that Char pointed.

  He almost ran into Joseph and Petricia.

  “What the fuck, Joseph?” Terry called. Joseph put out his hands to calm Terry. Petricia shied away.

  “We’ll wait here,” Joseph replied.

  Terry kept running. He passed the Weretigers and the Werecubs. “What the fuck, Aaron?” he yelled.

  Char slapped Terry on the back of his head and pointed.

  Terry saw the figures emerge from the tower debris.

  “One down, four left!” Char called as she swung wide of her husband.

  They saw a blade flash as Yuko engaged. The ring of steel told them that the Forsaken was fighting back. A pistol coughed and the Forsaken went down. Five Werewolves ran toward the dwindling group of Forsaken. Char was the only one still in human form. She held her pistols in her hands, having no intention of changing.

  Terry pulled his .45 while slowing to a jog, checked his Mameluke and whip, then raced to catch up. The others engaged and Char slowed to a walk.

  “One left,” she said casually.

  Terry hurried. He’d missed the party, but that was his ego talking. He stopped.

  “What?” Char asked.

  “As long as it ends, that’s what matters. It doesn’t have to be me.”

  He carried his pistol in one hand. Char carried her two. They walked casually ahead.

  Kim, Kae, Marcie, and Ramses were already there, outside the circle of Werewolves, Akio, and Yuko.

  An injured Forsaken was on one knee, unarmed and watching with hatred in his red eyes.

  “I guess they saved him for you,” Char said softly.

  Terry felt let down. The Forsaken was evil, diametrically opposed to everything Terry stood for, but his enemy had been beaten. Terry didn’t feel like gloating.

  He walked into the circle, holstered his pistol, and stopped. “How are we going to do this?” he asked.

  “I have surrendered,” Mister Smith replied. “Your honor dictates that you must protect me.”

  Terry looked at the Forsaken. “Yes. And as a war criminal, I can condemn you to death.”

  “That’s something he would do,” Mister Smith replied, gesturing at Akio with his chin. “Fuck you and fuck Michael! I’m glad he’s gone.”

  “He will return, along with Bethany Anne. Sometime, and the world will be free of the likes of you,” Akio replied evenly.

  “Mister Smith. You are an ill-begotten son of a vile creature, a turncoat. We just can’t have you in the same world as decent human beings.”

  “Human beings?” the Forsaken scoffed. “Is that what you are, Terry Henry Walton?”

  Terry shook his head, smiling at the taunt.

  “He is the most human of us all,” Marcie interjected. Terry turned to her. She aimed her rifle at Mister Smith. The barrel held steady, without the least tremor as the courage of her convictions reminded Terry of a younger version of himself.

  “Marcie. Please carry out the sentence.”

  Less than a heartbeat later, Mister Smith was dead.

  CHAPTER FORTY-SIX

  WWDE + 82 Years

  Paris

  Terry looked at the destruction. Char watched, stone-faced, as the light from small fires nearby danced across her striking features.

  The rest of the pack surrounded them, watching carefully for any new Forsaken, using the etheric as well as their eyes.

  “Burn the nest; eliminate the infestation,” Terry said coldly.

  “Just like cockroaches. But just like cockroaches, they’ll show up somewhere else. I’d love to tell you that this is it, that we’ve won the war, but all we did was buy more time; probably a big chunk, but that’s all. They’ll be back,” Char said flatly.

  Terry didn’t reply. He’d invested so much time, so much of his being, in fighting the war against the Forsaken that he felt almost empty inside. They’d fought battle after battle, but it hadn’t been fulfilling.


  When he set out on his path to eradicate the Forsaken threat, he assumed that with each headless corpse, he’d feel more and more vindicated.

  Instead, he felt tired.

  “I don’t want to do this anymore,” Terry said, barely above a whisper. He closed his eyes and concentrated on his breathing.

  “Fight the war against evil?” Char wondered.

  “Preemptive strikes on the Forsaken. They’ve been running like rats in a cage for fifty years now. They’re getting better at hiding. They’re going to keep on keeping on. We have other things to worry about. Peace for the humans. If a Forsaken gets in the way, we finish him. Outside of that, we need to focus our efforts on more important things.”

  Terry kicked at the dirt. The other Weres watched. Akio and Yuko stood nearby, quietly watching.

  No one had escaped the tower. The explosives had done their job.

  Terry had nothing else to throw at the problem.

  Terry wondered if he’d been looking at it backwards all these years. Humanity’s population was growing significantly, but the number of Forsaken was shrinking, and they were less and less powerful.

  Humanity was gaining the ability to fight back without help from the Unknown World.

  “Maybe Bethany Anne was right. Earth will work out its own problems, eventually. In the meanwhile, humans just need to be left to their own devices. We’ll stop by every now and then to make a few attitude adjustments, but otherwise, I think we’ve given humanity enough rope to either hang themselves or pull themselves up to the next level.”

  “Time for a vacation, TH?” Char asked, taking his arm and wrapping it over her shoulders.

  “Damn, you look good.” Terry smiled, disappearing into her sparkling purple eyes. “A long vacation, my love, just us, a desert island, a sailing boat, some fishing gear, coconut trees, some bananas, maybe a coffee bean plant. You know, the usual Gilligan’s Island stuff.” Terry ended by pulling Charumati into a long hug.

  “Sounds like we’re going to Hawaii,” Terry whispered into her ear.

  “Sounds like it.”

  The pack stood around, allowing the lovers their moment. Joseph, Petricia, and Andrew stayed outside the group as they always did.

  Sue and Timmons hugged as well, while Aaron and Yanmei nuzzled each other in Weretiger form, their cubs underfoot and yowling for attention.

  The End of Nomad’s Force

  Terry Henry Walton will return in Nomad’s Galaxy,

  Soon - 2017

  Don’t stop now! Keep turning the pages as both Craig & Michael talk about their thoughts on this book and the overall project called the Terry Henry Walton Chronicles. And artwork! There’s a picture of something hiding back there that you must see.

  < Edit Michael - Just remember, you won’t be able to ‘un-see’ it.>

  Author Notes - Craig Martelle

  Written July 19, 2017

  Thank you for reading to this point. That is incredible – book 9 in the series and you’re still reading. You make this journey of ours worthwhile.

  Holy crap what a beast this one turned into! I’m not sure how you’re eyes aren’t bleeding from shotgunning the book. 117k words is the longest single book I’ve ever written. I have one that is 108k words (Cygnus Expanding) – I wrote that one in 17 ½ days. I wrote Nomad’s Force in 32 days, by comparison.

  Shout outs to the TKG fans who are keeping me honest in regards to the technology. This isn’t hard science fiction but it does need to be consistent. I hadn’t addressed how they kept the pod charged or any of that. Ted is the go-to guy. He keeps all the high-tech stuff working. Kind of like Henry in Eureka, but with some of Kevin’s (Asperger’s) personality. If you haven’t watched that TV series, I highly recommend it.

  The cover! We went with the Eiffel Tower because we wanted a landmark that was recognizable as part of showing the worldwide mission that Terry and the FDG have undertaken. If you remember the cover of Justice is Calling, you find that the Eiffel Tower has been shattered and knocked down. We thought it was a great tie-in to make Terry Henry the one responsible for its demise. But as you learn in Nomad’s Force, it was for a good reason.

  Freaking huge! This book is twice what I meant it to be, but Michael put the thumbscrews on me and said I only get two more books. YOU FINISH AT TEN! He didn’t yell, but we have a contract with our narrator that is for the ten books of the THW Chronicles. No sweat! I said. Two books later, they are simply squeezed within one massive cover. My first shot at a blurb read… “It's epic in its epicness, epicosity beyond epic boundaries, start reading today, finish next month.” We changed that to something that only Michael could write. I’m sure you’ll like the hook that he set. Usual price is $3.99 for 60,000 words, 250 pages. I figured 450 pages would be worth more, but Michael wouldn’t let it go higher than $4.99, so everyone can save. It’s going to be a serious doorstop of a paperback!

  http://www.gutenberg.org/files/45493/45493-h/45493-h.htm - I had my sailing license at one point, but that was nearly forty years ago. I sailed solo, but only on lakes. I remember what it was like as the hull slapped against the waves, the silence of the breeze.

  There are some other people who deserve some kind words.

  We rushed to get Nomad Mortis, Terry Henry Book 8 out by June 19th because that marked the six-month anniversary since we launched Nomad Found on December 19th, 2016. 520,000 words and eight books later, we're still on a great journey:)

  Book 10 will bring the total number of words in the Terry Henry Walton Chronicles to around 700,000 in something like 3000 pages. Not too bad for a secondary character that Michael’s readers wanted to hear more about back in the fall of 2016.

  Thank you to everyone who has been so critical in making this series the runaway success that it has become.

  - Michael Anderle - has helped me to write better characters and more engaging stories. I appreciate the opportunity

  - Diane Velasquez & Dorene Johnson for their undying support and willingness to read anything at a moment's notice to give me a sanity check or a course correction, whatever was best to improve the reader experience.

  - Kat Lind for additional developmental and editing support to help me write better with each new book

  - My editor, Mia Darien for churning out great work, helping my stuff look, better, and for putting up with my foibles. Marines is always capitalized. She’s good with this and sometimes I make up words, and yes, that is what I meant to say. Thanks, Mia.

  - Norman Meredith - he was part of my original conversations back in December as we were looking for a catchy title. Norman's nickname is Nomad and that's way cool. Norman and I did a brainstorming session to come up with the book titles. I appreciate the insight

  - Some of the most engaged readers ever: Leo Roars, Sherry Foster, James Caplan, Micky Cocker, Thomas Ogden, John Findlay, Maria Stanley, Kelly O’Donnell and so many more. I thank you all for taking the time to help make these books the best they can be.

  - And finally, to those who buy these books or read them through Kindle Unlimited. Without you, this series would not have continued. I can't thank you enough for reading and reviewing the Terry Henry Walton Chronicles. One last full-length novel remains in this series before the FDG goes to space, where new stories will be told:)

  ***

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  If you liked this story, you might like some of my other books. You can join my mailing list by dropping by my website www.craigmartelle.com or if you have any comments, shoot me a note at craig@craigmartelle.com. I am always happy to hear from people who’ve read my work. I try to answer every email I receive.

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  Thank you for reading the Terry Henry Walton Chronicles!

  Author Notes - Michael Anderle

  Written July 27th, 2017

  First, thank you for reading this book all the way though … and NOW, eyes bleeding from the previous 120k words, you stuck around to read some shit from me.

  That’s pretty damned awesome.

  I’m going to riff a moment on what Craig said. When I knew I was going to have this big freaking gap from when Bethany Anne left the solar system and went after the Kurtherians, to when Michael came back / Bethany Anne showed back up, I could HEAR the “What Happened When She Was Gone??!?” questions.

  Now, those questions have blessed me with a friend / collaborator / occasional person I use to talk to and figure out what I should maybe do next on certain projects and so much more.

  Friend

  Before the Terry Henry Walton Chronicles came into existence, I knew Craig from the 20BooksTo50k group. He was in there, exhorting people and providing his own Marine version of “C’MON AUTHOR, GIVE ME ANOTHER 2,000 WORDS!”

  Or, something like that.

  I could tell he was a pretty fantastic human being, and I had spoken with him a couple of times on his own books. He will tell stories that I gave him all sorts of shit for his covers.

  Actually, I’m embarrassed to say that’s true.

  I really did ask him politely - ‘uh, what is your thoughts on your covers?’ At least, that’s the story I remember. I think HIS story goes something like ‘You have GOT to get those covers redone, they look horrible!’