***
“Stop chewing your stitches!” Ted said in a huff as the wolf looked at him with its big yellow eyes. He stared back, his eyes just as yellow, until the upstart young male looked away.
The wound was healing and the wolf’s licking was helping to keep it from getting infected, but he was biting at the stitches. Gerry and Kiwi watched Ted work with the shaggy gray beast.
“I have a question, if you don’t mind me prying,” Geronimo started.
Ted motioned for him to continue.
“You are so gentle, a kind person. If I hadn’t seen it, I would never believe that you’re a Werewolf, not anything like what we saw from the others,” Gerry haltingly said. He didn’t want to say Timmons’ name, but when he was in his Were form, he was violent and vicious. Until he lost his hand, he had maintained that persona in human form, too.
“Werewolves are like people,” Ted replied, smiling and petting the wolf at his feet. “There are all kinds, just like our lives. I liked my life before, and I like my life now. They are different, but both good.”
Gerry wasn’t sure what Ted’s answer meant. He’d have to think further.
Kiwi approached and put her hands on Ted’s arm. “When you know who you are, when your mission is clear and you burn with the inner fire of unbreakable will, no cold can touch your heart; no deluge can dampen your purpose. You know that you are alive. This is what Black Feather has told us.” Kiwi’s eyes were unfocused as she repeated the quote.
Ted stopped petting the dog and put a hand on the young girl’s head. To her, he would have looked like a man not much older than Gerry.
“Thank you, Kiwidinok. Never lose the wisdom of your people.” Ted had looked at her, cupping her young face in his hand as she looked adoringly at him.
As one of the beautiful people, he’d seen it before, and knew that pouring cold water early was the key. “I’m not for you. I have a mate, and we are both over one hundred years old. Go on, now. I thought you two were set to explore to the south.”
Kiwi looked away quickly, embarrassment reddening her cheeks.
Ted closed his eyes, and looked to the south as far as he could see. “Animals, but no people to the south. If you don’t ride farther than an hour away, you should be free to explore.”
Gerry thanked Ted and waited for Kiwi to join him. She squeezed Ted’s arm, turned, and hurried out the main door to the plant.
Gerry rushed to catch up to her as she made a beeline for the horses. “Hey, wait up!” he called when she broke into a run. She jogged, slowed, and stopped, her shoulders slumped and her head down.
The young man was torn, having no experience with women. He had a major crush on Kiwi, and that threw his mind into disarray. He stood there and looked dumbly at her.
Kiwi’s hair was jet black and like a raven’s wing, looked blue in the sunlight. She always looked well-tanned, because that was the natural color of her skin. Dark brown almond-shaped eyes were set wide in a round face. Her body was lean from always running, always doing something. She had boundless energy and used it.
When she finally looked up, her eyes were glistening, but no tears ran down her face. “What are you looking at?” she snapped.
Gerry took an involuntary step back as if he’d been slapped. “Nothing,” he replied weakly, then he turned and walked toward the horses. She watched him go. He was nothing like the young braves of her home village. She liked him, but had no experience with men.
She stalked up behind him and kicked his foot as he was trying to take a step. Gerry stumbled and fell. “Ha, ha!” she called and ran past him.
“What the fuck was that?” Gerry’s rifle had smacked against the ground when he fell, and he took a moment to check it over to make sure it wasn’t damaged.
“Don’t be a dick,” she shot back, the smile disappearing from her face. She wanted to kick him while he sat on the ground looking at his precious rifle. Didn’t he know that he was supposed to throw it all away and chase after her? The other braves would have.
And when they caught her, she’d kick their asses a second time.
Gerry watched her, wondering. He would have to talk with James and Lacy later, because there was something he was missing and had no idea what it was.
Kiwi saddled one horse while Geronimo saddled the other. They both mounted their rides and sat comfortably. Gerry was a master horseman, but Kiwi had been raised with horses and was almost as good as him.
With one look, that was how it started. Gerry saw it as a challenge and bolted out front, but Kiwi was hot on his heels.
They climbed the bank on the roadway in front of the plant and settled into a flat out race. After two minutes of galloping, the horses naturally slowed until Gerry’s pulled up and started hobbling. The young man forgot everything else as he reined back and dismounted.
The horseshoes had disintegrated during the journey, and although they’d repaired them at the time, Gerry had removed the shoes when they finally settled in to their new home, and they had not yet found replacements.
Racing the horses without shoes was ill-advised. Gerry’s mount had split its hoof and it was all Gerry’s fault.
“FUCK!” he yelled as he stroked the horse’s nose. Blood trickled along the crack. It was deep. He had been religiously trimming the hooves of all the horses, but saw where it was off balance where the crack had happened. He hadn’t gotten the trimming correct.
Kiwi joined him and bent down to study the hoof. “We need to trim it and then staple it together while it heals. It will heal, but it will take time, maybe a year. We’ll be right here with her the whole time, making sure that it’s taken care of.
Geronimo looked past the tears in his eyes. Kiwi looked confident, nodding as she held the reins of her horse. Without thinking, he leaned down and kissed her. She pulled herself into his embrace. When they separated, they were both breathing heavily.
Then Kiwi stomped on Gerry’s foot and danced away.
“God damn it, that hurt!” he exclaimed but after his first kiss, he couldn’t be angry. He looked to his horse. “It’ll be okay, girl, but we have to get home and tell Ted he has another patient. I think we’ve got more than a mile to go.”
Gerry led the horse into the soft dirt at the side of the road and started walking. A hard wind was blowing off the lake. He looked into it, seeing boats bobbing in a small harbor.
“Kiwi! After we get the horse settled, we need to come back and check that out,” he said, pointing at the boats.
He didn’t know that she was deathly afraid of the water.
CHAPTER FIVE
“I thought there was more to see,” Char complained, looking at the barren lands through which they traveled. North Dakota was still a grassy plain with wide open spaces, but it wasn’t the Wastelands. Those hadn’t encroached that far north.
“It looks different heading the other way,” Terry said matter-of-factly.
Char turned in her saddle and looked. She was confused. “Does not.”
Terry bit his lip to keep from laughing.
“You bastard!” Terry knew when a beating was imminent, so he kicked his horse into a gallop. They raced through the open lands, following the path cleared for the old interstate. When Terry saw a small lake, he veered toward it.
***
Char couldn’t catch him because she was pulling the third horse. She couldn’t even match Terry’s pace. He increased the distance between them until she watched him slow and turn toward something.
The horse stumbled and fell. Terry went with it, disappearing into the grass. Moments later, the sound of the shot was clear in the still air. Char let go of the other horse and urged her animal to greater speed. The second shot alarmed her even more.
***
Terry launched himself from the falling horse and into the grass, unsure where the round had hit his mount. He crawled quickly to the side and assumed a firing position, aiming through the heavy grass in the direction from which the shot had co
me. He couldn’t see anything, but heard the crunch of furtive footfalls. A second shot rang out. The sound of it hitting his horse was unmistakable.
Terry heard the horse running from behind him. Char was racing into an ambush.
He leaned backward, coming to one knee, and looked for the enemy. He still couldn’t see anything. They’d gone to ground as Char raced closer.
He jumped up. “Get down!” he yelled, diving to the ground as he did so. The round whizzed over his head. Terry crouched low and shuffled away, listening for the horse and hoping that the last shot fired was at him and not Char.
Terry broke into a run, exposing himself to the enemy, but he increased speed to something that no human should have been capable of. He angled in a semi-circle to his right to come in behind the enemy. A break in the grass suggested someone had trampled it down. He headed toward it.
He waved at Char, pointing at where he thought the attacker was located. As he closed the last thirty feet, he thumbed the selector lever to full automatic, fired into the space, and then leapt into the air, preparing to finish the job.
But there weren’t any targets, only a door, flat against the ground. Terry landed next to it and dodged, diving again into the grass beside the small open area. He studied it quickly, the door, then looked outward for firing ports of any kind.
He saw none.
What was hidden beneath that door?
***
Char approached the area, unsure of what Terry had seen and wondering why he fired his weapon on automatic. The shooter must have surprised him.
She remained low, using Terry’s horse for cover. She had a hand on the beast, but her sense had already told her that it was dead. She also knew that there were a number of people underground.
Char pulled both pistols and stood, walking at a ninety-degree angle to the tunnel entrance. She stayed to the side and walked casually to Terry, who watched her closely, understanding that she knew where the shooter was.
“They’re in the tunnels, down there.” She pointed.
“Tunnels? They?” Terry considered the new information.
“Five, from what I see,” she whispered, then held a finger to her lips. She motioned Terry to the left, while she moved right. They took positions to either side of the door and waited, as if they were hunting a ground hog by watching for it to stick its head out of a hole.
The door was soundless as it inched open. Terry and Char kept their feet out of sight. She signaled that it was just one person. They waited.
It inched open farther and farther. When there was a gap of almost a foot on the front side, Terry jumped into the air, coming down with both feet to drive the door into the head of the person opening it. The door whumped to the ground. Terry jumped aside and ripped the door open, throwing it backwards.
Rough-hewn stairs descended to a small platform, then continued deeper into the earth. A young boy was lying on the landing. Terry climbed down to him, checking his pulse.
The boy was alive, but his head was bleeding freely. Terry pulled the boy’s shirt off and held against the wound. He saw that the child wasn’t armed.
Char looked into the darkness of the tunnel before checking on the boy. “What kind of asshole would send a boy to check on the people they just shot at?” Char whispered angrily.
“Where are they?” Terry growled.
“Coming up.” She tipped her chin for him to hide at the side. Terry crawled away as the first round ripped through the boards of the platform, barely missing the unconscious boy.
Terry held his rifle at arm’s length and fired blindly down the tunnel. Char scooped the boy into her arms and in two steps, was out the door. Terry clicked the lever to full auto and waved a figure eight as he fired into the tunnel until his bolt locked to the rear. He followed Char outside, then slammed the door.
A bullet tore through the wood of the door, sending splinters into Terry’s arm.
“I’ve had about enough of you fuckers!” Terry called as he ripped into the grass, pulling up great bundles until he had a full armload. He put the pile in front of the door, then gathered a second bundle.
Char waved at him frantically and pointed at the door, signaling that two people were on the platform behind it. Terry locked a fresh magazine into place and let the bolt go home, chambering the next round. He selected semi-automatic and standing near the door, walked the rounds through it, sweeping left and right.
***
“Where’s the food?” Billy said, staring at the empty freezer. “Who stole the food?”
He looked at Sue, who had been dutifully taking notes as they conducted their inventory. She shook her head although she knew very well who had emptied the freezer. She’d enjoyed some of its fare the night before.
Billy hurried through the rest of his inspection. Once complete, he ran back to the mayor’s house. Sue was torn whether to tell him or not. She decided against it, hoping that no one had seen the others.
He stormed into the house, yelling for Clemson. The young man was nowhere around.
“Sue, can you run to the barracks, get Mark for me?” Billy inquired, although it didn’t seem like he was asking. “We’ve got criminals to find and punish.”
***
Char drew a finger across her throat. Terry pulled the door open slowly, keeping himself to the side. He flicked his head past the opening and away. Two people were down. He held the door open with one arm and kicked the two piles of dry grass inside. He shut the door, took a knee, and pulled his flint. A small bush became the target of his sparks and once it caught, it went up like a torch.
He opened the door, kicked it through, and let the door slam back into place.
There was enough air flow within the tunnel that the dry grasses caught. Soon, they could hear the flames crackling against the back side of the door. It cracked and the fire licked through.
“Time to go,” Terry snarled. Char held her hands out.
“What do we do with him?” she asked.
Terry had forgotten that they’d pulled the boy out. “I guess we’re going to be kidnappers. Add it to our list of crimes against humanity.” Terry ran his hand through his hair.
He looked back at the door as the fire was consuming it. “Fuck you!” he raged. “Why did you make me do that?”
“We better go,” Char said, picking the boy up and throwing him over her shoulder as she started to run.
The prairie grasses were on fire.
Terry, tipped the buffalo meat onto the ground, unbuckled the heavy saddlebags, and ran after Char. The bags bounced against his back. He threw a glance over his shoulder, seeing that the fire was already around the horse, destroying it—the meat, the saddle, all of it.
Terry had his rifle, his knives, his bullwhip, and two saddlebags heavy with ammunition and other small supplies necessary for survival.
His flasks had been tied to the pommel. The pommel was on the saddle, which was in the middle of a growing conflagration.
They were down to the water that Char carried, but there were three people who needed to drink.
The fire burned between them and the lake.
Char caught her horse and used it to run down the second one. Terry ran to them, mounting quickly so they could ride away without getting trapped.
“Good job back there,” Char said, shaking her head.
“Penis pullers made me angry,” he replied. “Fuckers shot my horse.”
“You showed them. No horse for them. I wonder if that was a family or if they were starving.” Char looked ahead, breathing a sigh of relief as they’d gotten past the end of the fire and were leaving it far behind.
“That’s not fair,” Char said, arguing with herself. “They weren’t going to go without a fight.”
A titanic explosion rocked the ground, sending dirt flying from the hole where the door had been. A pillar of flame followed the debris upward.
The horses bucked and whinnied. Terry and Char looked at each other. “What the hel
l did they have in there?” Terry wondered.
***
Sue ran into Clemson on her way out the front door. She intercepted him and sent him after Mark. When she returned after being gone for two minutes, Billy was incensed, looking like his head was going to explode.
“I found Clemson. He’s on his way out there right now. He runs faster than me, so you’ll get Mark more quickly. You have to relax, Billy.” Sue tried to sound calm.
Billy was having none of it. He stomped his feet as he pounded his way around his office. Felicity started to leave but he stopped her by blocking her way. She raised her eyebrows at him.
He looked at her and sighed, then stepped aside, hanging his head. She stayed where she was.
“Just when I thought we were getting through to them,” Billy said, pursing his lips before he continued. “Somebody stole from the town, they stole from me, Felicity.”
His voice was gruff, but his tone was that of a small child. Felicity pulled him to her and hugged her husband.
“We’ll find out what happened. I’m sure there is a reasonable explanation, dear,” she drawled pleasantly, unperturbed by Billy’s take on the issue. She didn’t believe anyone would simply steal a freezer empty. No one was getting fat. In her mind, they’d progressed to the point where she expected people simply to take what they needed and replace it when they were able.
An attitude that she would not have had years ago when she first arrived in New Boulder.
“Let’s take a drive, Billy dear. The baby would love a nice nap in the backseat,” Felicity offered.
“But Mark is on his way and the car isn’t running right,” Billy said softly, feeling his world weighing him down.
“Sue can handle Mark, get him turned loose on trying to figure out what happened. And we’ll stop by the plant. Maybe one of those two nice engineers down there will be able to help you.” Felicity lifted his head and the two slowly walked away.
Sue sat at the table and wondered how in the hell she was going to resolve the situation.
Nomad Omnibus 02: A Kurtherian Gambit Series (A Terry Henry Walton Chronicles Omnibus) Page 4