“Not far now, TH. You might want to man the gun.”
Terry unbuckled himself and climbed into position, leaning over the roll bar with the fifty cal pulled tightly into his shoulder. It was his power stance. He felt both exposed and invincible at the same time.
Char pulled up to a nondescript house and shut the buggy off. “He’s in there.”
“What?” Terry exclaimed. His choice would have to been to stop farther away and plan their attack. Here they were, on top of the objective. He found himself having to plan the attack on the fly, but Char was right in one thing. They had enough firepower to level a city.
The bus door opened and as usual, Hank was the first one out. He rumbled straight for the house with Blackie close in pursuit. Kae was hot on his heels, with Aaron running after him.
“Grab that boy!” Terry screamed, furious as the situation rapidly spiraled out of control. “Firing positions there and there!”
Terry pointed with his arm past the dune buggy to the front and then made a second slashing motion to the right side of the house.
Clyde started barking and the wolf pack ran past on their way after something up the street.
Aaron caught Kaeden and hauled him into the air, jogging back to the dune buggy.
“You stay behind the buggy, do you understand me?” Terry growled. The boy started to cry. Char gave Terry the unhappy look again.
Terry climbed out and kneeled next to Kae. The Werewolves moved into a position between the buggy and the house. They watched closely because they knew the Were-bear was inside.
“I don’t want you to get hurt,” Terry told the little boy. “I need you to stay back here in case there’s a fight. I don’t know what I’d do if anything happened to you. Aaron?”
The Were-tiger nodded. “I’ve got him. With a bear in there, I’m good back here.”
Terry pulled his bullwhip and walked into the overgrown front yard. “For fuck’s sake, you know we’re out here. Come on out,” Terry called.
“You kiss mother with potty mouth?” a booming voice said from inside the small house. Hank was standing with paws against the door.
“We just want to talk with you,” Terry replied.
“Up your ass sideways without soap!” the voice bellowed. Terry snapped his whip and loosened his shoulders. He’d never seen a Were-bear before, but he had an overwhelming urge to kick its ass.
“Move stinky dick away from door. I come out,” the voice called through a broken window.
“Come on, Hank! Give the man some room,” Blackie yelled. The two wrestled briefly before Hank ambled toward Terry.
The bear didn’t slow down and Terry ended up diving out of the way, rolling and coming back to his feet, to find a huge man standing in the doorway, chuckling to himself. His shock of dark brown hair was messed, his face covered with stubble and his heavy eyebrows cast dark shadows over his eyes.
He wore barely more than rags.
His disheveled appearance didn’t detract from his well-muscled physique. He was bigger than Marcus, looking like a professional wrestler of old.
“My name is Terry Henry Walton, Colonel from the Force de Guerre. We only want one thing, to make sure that our settlement is left in peace.” Terry decided that he needed to work on his speech.
“Maybe I want to live in peace. What fuck did I do to get War Force here, damaging my calm,” the Were-bear asked in his heavy Russian accent.
Terry coiled his whip and strapped it to his belt.
“Valid points all. What’s your name, friend?”
“Yevgeniy Stalin, Eugene, man of steel. You call me Gene, little man, but none of rest of you. You call me Mr. Stalin.” Gene swept an arm to take in the rest of the pack and both squads aiming their rifles.
“Stand down,” Terry called as Hank ran past him toward the Were-bear. Gene crouched and Hank jumped. The big man caught the two-hundred-pound bear and cradled him in his arms like a baby. The grizzly cub made odd noises and Gene talked back with him. In the bear world, a male wouldn’t hesitate to kill a male cub, even his own. All males were challengers.
It was good to see that the Were-bear had evolved beyond that. Blackie stood beside Terry, mortified.
“He’s not your bear, son,” Terry said softly.
“Okay, but we change name. Hank no good. He look like Bogdan to me. I call him Bogdan. Okay, I come, too. I come with you, Bogdan, teach you how to be real bear,” the massive man cooed to the grizzly cub.
“Wait, what? What in the holy jump the fuck up and down just happened?” Terry asked Char as he had a nearly overwhelming desire to shoot someone. He turned back to the Were-bear.
“What did you do in Russia? What was your trade?” Terry asked, blocking Gene from going to the bus which was parked far too close for Terry’s comfort.
“I was all Army wrestler. Won Olympic medal. Then back to my job as nuclear weapons specialist,” Gene said proudly.
“No shit,” Terry mumbled.
Ted leaned closer. “I’m a nuclear engineer,” he said softly.
“Fuck off! You are tiny like flea,” Gene boomed again, then laughed. “Yes, tiny, we talk good about neutron bomb, no?”
Gene balanced Hank in one arm as he reached an immense hand out and slapped Ted on the back hard enough to knock him down.
The two squads from the Force stepped away from the Were-bear as he strolled past, up the steps and into the bus, still carrying the grizzly cub.
Terry’s nostrils flared as he tried to maintain the last shred of his dignity. “Sergeant, get the men on the bus.”
Mark hesitated, but the glare from the colonel galvanized him into action. He started yelling and pushing. There was a mad rush for the bus and they filled it from the front to the back. Blackie walked boldly up the stairs and joined Gene and Hank in the back.
The pack loaded the wolves into the truck, then climbed in themselves. Sue whistled for Clyde, who appeared out of nowhere, chewing on something. James, Lacy, Gerry, Kiwi, Aaron, and Kae were last getting on the bus. Char stopped Kae and made him get in the dune buggy instead. The others took seats in the back by Gene and Hank/Bogdan.
Terry looked at Char, hoping that her purple eyes would cheer him up. It didn’t help.
“My head hurts,” he admitted.
“This day just got a whole lot more interesting, don’t you think, dear?” Char asked, eyes sparkling radiantly as her voice turned sultry. “I’m sorry you didn’t get to shoot anything with your big gun. Maybe next time.”
“Maybe,” Terry replied as he vigorously rubbed his temples.
CHAPTER EIGHT
The natives were stalwart as they powered forward, keeping up with the cattle. Adams was walking, as were the FDG squad. The carts had been filled with necessities and the old and the young rode on the horses. The village had produced twenty-seven horses of their own, but they had nearly one hundred and fifty people with a broad age disparity, from seven weeks to seventy years.
The people capable of walking were walking, and Adams pushed them all, keeping everyone moving.
He wasn’t happy about the latest development. Terry and Char wouldn’t be expecting such an influx of people, but the chief’s presence was calming.
Adams was responsible and ran back and forth to talk with one person or another, but he found himself returning to the chief’s side each time.
“Why didn’t you go with Terry and Char when they came through last time?” Adams finally summoned the courage to ask.
“It wasn’t our time, yet, and their loud vehicles were filled. We would have held them back. No, it was our plan all along to wait for you,” Foxtail said matter-of-factly.
“Did they know you were going to join us?” Adams questioned.
“No.” The chief looked serenely ahead then scanned the horizons. “A storm is coming. I think we had best find shelter. There are ruins up ahead that we can use. I suggest we run.” Without waiting, the chief whooped and started running. His people ran wi
th him. The horses kicked into a trot, then a canter, then a gallop as they drove the panicking cattle.
One cart hit a bump and overturned. The driver was barely able to crawl out of the way before the stampede destroyed the cart and everything in it. Someone ran up to help the man unhook the terrified horse, holding the reins to keep it from bolting.
Boris and a couple others from the FDG recovered their horses and rode after the cattle, hoping to turn them toward the ruins before the storm hit.
The people ran as if they were being chased by the hounds of hell. The first thirty people into the ruins were in better shape and they funneled people to the buildings with roofs intact, with basements free from dirt. The cattle had to shelter behind walls, because there was no space indoors for them. Boris, Everett, Hayden, the Weathers boys, and others circled the cattle to keep them from straying too far into the quickening breeze. The people wrapped scarves around their faces and ducked their heads while they waited for the storm to hit.
***
“A what?” Billy asked, not completely surprised at yet another creature being added to the menagerie that seemed to be tied to anything Terry Henry Walton touched.
“A Were-bear. They come from Russia, so his accent is a little thick, but he seems nice and Hank likes him, although Gene insists the grizzly’s name is now Bogdan, for what it’s worth.”
Billy had no answer to that. Why couldn’t there be a simple fight between two farmers? He longed for the good old days when that was the extent of an exciting day.
“Before we bring him in, there’s probably one other thing you should know,” Terry said, waiting for an acknowledgement from Billy. The mayor rolled his finger at Terry.
“We have a truce with a Vampire who lives in the city. He says he’ll work for me if we don’t kill him. In return, he won’t feed on any of our people. Should I bring Gene in now?”
Billy didn’t skip a beat. “Yes, that’s fine, bring in this Were-bear of yours.”
Terry got up and walked out.
“What the hell?” Terry yelled from out front.
“Fuck off, he comes,” someone bellowed in a heavy Russian accent. The grizzly cub formerly known as Hank dragged his claws across the marble in the entryway. Heavy footfalls signaled the arrival of the Were-bear called Gene. He had a handful of the cub’s fur and was dragging him backwards toward the office.
He ducked and turned sideways as he came through the doorway and with one final yank, deposited the whining grizzly cub on the floor in the middle of the office.
Felicity tried to crawl backwards through the wall. Marcie started crying. Billy sat slack-jawed.
“I am Yevgenniy Stalin. You call me Gene.” The big man’s voice reverberated within the mayor’s office.
Billy hadn’t thought of the room as small until the Were-bear and his mini-me arrived.
“Terry?” Billy inquired casually, wondering about where Terry Henry Walton had disappeared. That fucker bailed on me after dumping this steaming mess in my office. Billy Spires, Mayor of North Chicago, recovered quickly.
“Nice to meet you, Gene. What can I do for you?” Billy asked, smiling pleasantly while on the inside he was both furious and terrified.
“I want to see Mini Cooper,” Gene demanded, smacking a fist on the desk. Billy swore that the whole room shook.
“I’ll leave that to Terry Henry Walton and Ted, who is responsible for the reactor. I’m sure they’ll be accommodating. Will that be all?” Billy stood, trying to signal that the meeting was over.
“Where will Bogdan and I live?” the man asked, more quietly. “I don’t like to be near people, you see. Maybe we live in suburbs of your town?”
Billy saw the sincerity in his eyes.
“I’ll see to that personally. Stop by here later and I’m sure I’ll have something for you. The homes are a little trashed and it may need some work, but it’ll be what you want.” Billy saw the spark of humanity and wanted to help.
Then it was gone when the man stood up and growled at the grizzly cub to get it moving out the door. The bear formerly known as Hank slid his way across the marble as he made for the door.
Gene didn’t wave or say goodbye, he simply left, ducking and angling his way through the too-small doorway. Billy turned in time to see Felicity wrinkling her nose.
He moved around his desk to the doorway and stood in it, comparing his own size to that of the man who had just left. Billy turned one way then the other.
“Hmmm,” he mumbled. “I guess we shouldn’t make him mad.”
***
“No!” Ted said.
“Just for a little bit, Ted. I really need to clear my head,” Terry begged.
“You left fish blood all over it last time. It wasn’t better than when you took it, so you don’t get to borrow it ever again,” Ted stated definitively, stomping his foot and thrusting his chin out.
“I thought I cleaned it pretty well,” Terry answered.
“There was a bloody handprint on the port rail!”
“That’s your definition of all over?” Terry replied.
“You can’t borrow it.” Ted strutted toward the dock.
Terry had learned a great deal about their resident genius. “You’d rather sink it than let me borrow it, wouldn’t you, Ted?” Terry called after the man.
“You got that right,” Ted said over his shoulder.
Char and Kae were on the beach, climbing on the rocks, watching Terry crash and burn.
“You don’t get to run off and play every time there’s something going on that you don’t like,” she said conversationally. He didn’t take offense.
“I want to give things time to shake out, and I think Kae liked fishing. Didn’t you, buddy?”
“It was okay,” the little man replied. He was bummed that Hank and Blackie weren’t together anymore.
Blackbeard was devastated.
But Kae liked both Aaron and Gene, the latest additions to the pack. Terry needed to give things time to shake out, let people find their way.
“I know what I’ve been missing,” Terry decided. “Training. Combat training. We’ve been on the road too long, engaged in world building, when we need to step back, find our roots, and then branch out. How can we keep the people safe if we can’t fight? I’ve done your pack a disservice. Tomorrow morning, when Joseph shows up, day one of our new training regimen begins.”
Terry and Char sparred every single day, but they pulled their punches, so even they were slowing down. Terry couldn’t strike his lover and Char learned that she couldn’t either. Their moves became more like a dance than an all-out wail fest, Terry’s preferred fighting technique that he demonstrated on the Forsaken.
“There’s a marina right up the coast. Let’s take a look-see and then we have some people we need to talk with.” Terry helped his family out of the rocks and together they walked north.
The Waukegan Harbor and Marina was nearly two miles away, sitting next to the old power plant.
“I have yet to get a straight answer from Ted on what he’s going to do with that nuclear reactor,” Terry said, enjoying the breeze and the lake air. Humidity in the air was refreshing after the desert-like conditions they’d survived and traveled through.
“I’m sure Ted has something in mind. I think he’s in love with that reactor. It was the latest technology before the fall.” Char squinted into the distance. An overgrown path followed the shoreline for as far as she could see.
“Who would have thought that we’d call Chicago a paradise?” Terry wondered.
“I’m not calling it that,” Char countered. “I’ll commit to calling it nicer than the last place we were, but paradise? That sounded like Cancun, according to the pack. Too bad it’s on the other side of hell.”
“Does the Mississippi still flow?” Terry asked rhetorically. They’d crossed it in Minnesota and it was as robust as ever. “Maybe the locks and dams are gooned up, but with a small boat, I expect we could make it to New Orlean
s, then across the Gulf of Mexico. It wouldn’t be any harder than moving a town from Colorado to here.”
“Then what?” Char prompted.
“Then we’d be stuck down there.” Terry fingered the communicator in his pocket. He imagined a conversation with Akio, begging him for a ride back to Chicago in the pod. Terry expected that it wouldn’t go well. He imagined a different conversation. I missed my flight while on vacation, can you come get me?
Terry chuckled about it. “No. We can’t go there, but Akio probably needs to know what we’re up to.” Char nodded.
Terry pulled the communication device and activated it. There was no static or buzz, which Terry found disconcerting. He had loved the old Marine Corps radios, which were tough to work with on the best of days. There was nothing like a PRC-77 to ruin your day, the radio which often served as a heavy and unfriendly paperweight.
“Good evening, Terry Henry. How are you today?” Akio asked pleasantly enough. It was eight in the morning by his reckoning.
“What time is it there?” Terry said without thinking.
“Eleven at night.”
“Oh crap! I’m sorry, Akio-sama. We’ve had a few developments here and I wanted to make sure that you knew. I can call back tomorrow morning if you’d like.” Terry gritted his teeth. He knew the time difference but hadn’t thought about it. He was in his own little world where only he mattered. Char brushed her finger, signaling that he’d been a bad boy.
The nomad was supreme, just until he wasn’t.
“I prefer the night, actually. It is in my nature, is it not?” Akio asked pleasantly.
“Of course, Akio-sama. We’ve had a couple additions to our Were family, a Were-tiger and a Were-bear, who oddly enough has taken a liking to the grizzly cub who came with us from New Boulder,” Terry started slowly, trying to shape the conversation in a non-threatening way.
“Interesting. Tigers and Bears don’t usually join wolf packs. I expect they joined you, Anjin-san, as you continue to steer this boat toward greener shores.” Akio’s voice was calming for Terry.
Anjin-san, a ship’s pilot. Terry knew the word because of reading James Clavell’s novel, Shogun.
Nomad Omnibus 02: A Kurtherian Gambit Series (A Terry Henry Walton Chronicles Omnibus) Page 27
