Adams’s breath caught in his throat and he pinched his lips together. His eyes misted as he was instantly taken back to the mountain. Thank God for Terry Henry Walton and Charumati, otherwise he’d be dead, too. Part of him died in that mountain, but part of him had lived.
His alphas had come to his rescue and delivered the vengeance he wished he could have been there for. It was because he wasn’t fast enough, he and Xandrie weren’t disciplined enough.
“I guess we all need to learn how to fight better,” Adams said softly, his mind still in the mountain where his body was broken and covered in blood.
“Yeah, we have a lot to learn. Maybe instead of playing chuck the rock, we practice, man-to-man combat?” Boris suggested, looking at Adams hopefully.
“One round of chuck the rock, then we break off, maybe bring the oldest Weathers boys, the oldest Eli kid, too, maybe even some of the braves. This is a hard world. There’s nothing wrong with being able to defend yourself, make a good showing at least. Isn’t that part of personal honor, pride in your own abilities?”
Boris wasn’t sure. He needed to think about that. “Pride, not arrogance, as I learned the hard way.” Boris pushed Adams playfully. “A smart dude once told me that peace of mind is found in soul food.”
***
James stood at the head of the platoon in front of their new barracks. Mark was in the back leading third squad, a sad looking Blackbeard standing next to him. Corporal Lacy was at the front left of the formation as the squad leader in charge of first squad. They were standing at attention as the colonel and major arrived.
A lone civilian stood behind the formation. Terry went to her first.
“What are you doing here, Kiwi?” he asked, coming across as judgmental, which wasn’t his intent. The young woman looked hurt as she wondered how to answer.
“I’m sorry, that’s not what I meant. It is always good to see you. How is your grandmother?” He placed a gentle hand on her shoulder as he waited patiently for an answer.
She stood tall and proud. “She is well, thank you. Gerry and I will be married on the rest day. We would be honored if you would be there.”
“We wouldn’t miss that for the world and congratulations again, Horse Master Kiwidinok.” Terry took his hand from her shoulder and held it out for her to shake. She gripped it in two hands and smiled.
“Autumn Dawn has asked me to be a part of our native delegation, participate in the meetings to represent our people,” she said in a low voice, looking left and right to make sure no one was near, before she added in a conspiratorial tone. “I have no idea what I’d be doing there.”
“Report!” Char called from the front of the platoon. Terry felt like he’d missed something and was instantly anxious, ready to run to the front of the formation. Control, Char had said. He didn’t need to control every little thing.
“First and third squads all present. Second squad remains on detached duty somewhere near the Wastelands,” James reported boldly.
Char was filling her role as executive officer, being the major that he’d promoted her to. Terry turned back to Kiwi. “Watch what the elders do, understand why they do it, and then you’ll see how they can guide you without telling you what to do. Actions mean more than words.”
“Gerry and I have been watching you and Char. We want our relationship to be like yours, equal partners, which is a good lesson for my people. I think it would make them better, stronger,” Kiwi said, drifting off as she thought about how that would appear to the other members of her tribe.
“Sounds like you already understand what you want to get out of life. It’s not a destination, but a journey. You will inspire many others to do what you have done, command your own purpose.” Terry looked into her brown eyes, studying her. The rebellious youth from months ago was gone, replaced by a mature young woman deciding on her own path forward.
“Open ranks,” James bellowed, “march!” First squad took two steps forward. “Side straddle hops, on my count…”
Char walked casually around the formation.
“Slacking off, Major?” Terry asked, smiling at his beautiful XO.
“I won’t dignify that with a response, although you should probably get your weak ass into formation and PT with the rest of them. I’ll be along shortly. Since I’m maid of honor in the upcoming wedding, we have some things to talk about.” Char made a shooing motion with her hand, while smiling and wrapping the other arm around Kiwi to pull her close for a hug.
“Where am I when you are doing all this stuff, talking with all the people, knowing everything?” Terry complained. He looked confused.
Char shooed him away a second time, preferring to keep the key to her success secret. She ushered Kiwi farther from the formation. Terry saw Aaron and Kae standing to the side and waved for both of them to join him.
When they arrived, he started doing jumping jacks—what the military called side-straddle hops—in time with the rest of the platoon. Kaeden was no stranger to calisthenics. Aaron was, looking very much like a flamingo as he jumped out of rhythm.
Terry couldn’t watch.
A movement coming toward the formation caught his eye. He saw First Sergeant Blevin in a shuffling run with Corporal Heitz and a couple of the other drivers.
Blevin ran up to Terry and saluted. “I’m sorry, sir. I didn’t know we had a formation otherwise I would have been here on time. My fault completely. I won’t let it happen again. We were coming to get chow before starting work in the motor pool. That’s when we realized we were AWOL,” the first sergeant said breathlessly as his chest heaved trying to suck in more air.
“Get with Sergeant James after PT and make sure he keeps you informed. We’ve got individual combat training this morning which could be a little rough. You can watch, but I can’t have my A-Team getting hurt!” Terry smiled at them, showing his pleasure that they’d joined the formation. He waved them to take their places at the back of the formation.
“At ease!” he called when the exercise stopped and walked to the front. “You’ve met First Sergeant Blevin and our good people from the motor pool. They are the Motor Transport Platoon, with the first sergeant in charge. They will be kept informed of everything we do. They are, as of this moment, active and honored members of the Force de Guerre.”
Blevin waved to the platoon. He had no idea what was in store for his first day back on active duty.
***
Gene sniffed the air with his bear snout, using the heightened senses of his Were form to take in his surroundings. Bogdan lay half off the mattress, snorting in his sleep. Gene kicked the cub with his massive paw. The grizzly woke up for a second, then rolled over, snuffling and smacking his bear lips.
Gene stretched, then changed into his human form and got dressed. He looked at the bear cub. “You shed like goat!” he told his new friend. It was the middle of winter, but had yet to get cold. It was far cooler than the Wastelands, but to the grizzly, it was time to shed his winter coat.
The home they’d been given was at the very edge of the base, closest to the overgrown golf course on the southern side. Gene went behind the house to relieve himself. The grizzly cub joined him, sniffing at the puddle that Gene left behind, before following him as the large man headed for the chow hall, where he’d been told he could get his meals.
He noted that a number of the Werewolves and the Were-tiger were in the open area in front of the kitchen and dining area, but his fellow nuke wasn’t there. Gene saw that Ted was still in his quarters, as was Timmons, the engineer. He shrugged since he didn’t really care what all the others were doing, but he also felt something different.
A Forsaken approaching from the big city. He thought about telling Terry Henry Walton, but decided not to bother. If the Werewolves couldn’t sense him, then they deserved what they got.
Gene set out. Breakfast sounded good, something prepared by someone else sounded even better. He couldn’t remember the last time he didn’t catch or find his own f
ood.
It had been too long.
Bogdan followed happily, sniffing at places where the wolf pack had marked. The pack was in the woods behind the house he’d been given. He watched them in his mind for a moment. Once certain they were keeping their distance, he continued his long strides toward the chow hall.
There was a great deal of noise from the human contingent in the square. Gene stopped and watched, recognizing the military calisthenics. He grimaced thinking back to his time in the Russian Army where the workouts were ridiculous. His real workouts were orders of magnitude better. Getting juiced by the team doctors didn’t hurt either and accounted for his massive size. That was before the Kurtherian changes made to his body which turned him into a Were-bear.
And he grew even bigger, to the point of being a monster, assuring him that he wouldn’t fit in anywhere. After the WWDE, he’d migrated across the pole and into Canada. It wasn’t an easy trip, but he had to leave the nuclear wasteland of Russia.
The trip. His mind drifted back.
The polar bear had surged from the ocean onto the ice flow that Yevgenniy was riding. The ice shifted from the weight of the dripping white beast. In the Arctic, polar bears were at the top of the food chain.
Gene didn’t care. As a Were-bear, he was every bit as big as the great white predator. Gene crouched and roared. The polar bear roared back and ambled forward two quick steps, trying to drive his next meal backwards. Gene held his ground, paws firmly braced on the ice pack.
He waited. The polar bear inched forward. With a powerful lunge, Gene launched himself at the polar bear, driving his front claws into the beast’s thick neck. He held tightly to keep the white jaws away from him.
The polar bear rolled backward and brought up his back claws to rake down Gene’s stomach, shredding the flesh and tearing into the muscle. The bear’s front paws latched onto Gene’s front legs and that was when the Were-bear knew that a change of tactics was in order.
He drove with his back legs and once the polar bear was off balance, Gene twisted and forced it to the ice. The floe bobbed dangerously, threatening to dump both fighters into the ocean, a place where Gene didn’t want to be.
Gene raked his claws through the white fur, the blubber, and into the neck muscles. He dug deeper and deeper as the polar bear roared in pain. The Arctic cold disappeared as both bears fought for their lives.
In the end, one would feed on the other to survive.
Gene’s arms were starting to go numb from the loss of blood; the nanocytes weren’t keeping up. He needed to finish the fight and feed. With a surge of power, he twisted the polar bear’s head, but even with his great strength, the polar bear’s neck was unbreakable.
The great white beast growled and panted from the pressure Gene was putting on its throat. The ice floe tipped and they slid to the edge. He clamped down on the bear’s throat with his remaining strength. Polar bears could hold their breath for an extended period of time, but not in the middle of an epic battle.
It flailed to throw Gene off, trying to remove the pressure, keeping it from taking a breath. With one last push, Gene drove both of them over the edge and into the freezing water. The Were-bear let up on the other beast’s throat, but stayed underwater with it until it gulped water into its lungs, filling them for one last flail before it stilled. Gene started swimming for the surface.
Blood trailed from the horrible wounds on Gene’s body, a string of his entrails floated lazily in the water as he fought against the water and his own exhaustion. He dragged the loser to the floe, pulling himself up first, then muscled the polar bear onto the ice after him. Gene stuffed his own guts back in through the wound, which made him retch violently.
He recovered enough to disembowel the polar bear, and Gene stuffed himself, then he snuggled halfway beneath it, using its wet fur for warmth.
He lay there holding the wound on his stomach to help them while they healed, all the while hoping that another predator couldn’t smell the blood.
He could only hope that there wasn’t one nearby as he passed out.
Gene came back to himself as Bogdan recognized the human called Blackbeard. The grizzly cub ran to meet his friend. Then the child, Kaeden, intercepted the bear and the free-for-all commenced. Blackie broke ranks and Char dismissed the platoon so they could play with the bear cub.
Terry and Char met Gene halfway across the square. Gene looked at the pair before turning to Terry. “Forsaken come up road from city. Be here in ten minutes.”
“Thanks. We were expecting him. It’s good to see he’s on time. This one owes us for not killing him,” Terry replied casually, watching to gauge Gene’s reaction. “Do you have a problem with the Forsaken?”
Terry was curious. The answer seemed to always be universally negative.
“Who doesn’t have problem with Forsaken?” Gene’s voice boomed and echoed. “You have big guns and army. We have no problem with Vampire. Come, we eat now.” Gene turned and walked past the scrum that was the bear cub and half the platoon. The older men of Motor T were less inclined toward wrestling and followed Gene toward the dining facility.
Aaron extracted Kaeden from the pile and joined Terry and Char standing to the side.
“Sergeant James! Chow for the next ten minutes,” Terry called and watched the platoon break contact and run for the chow hall where Claire, Antioch, Mrs. Grimes, or Margie Rose would be waiting to dish out something from the communal food supply.
CHAPTER ELEVEN
“More food, woman!” Gene bellowed at Mrs. Grimes from the other side of the serving counter. He leaned as far over the top as he could to get closer to the old woman. She stayed put, pulled out her wood spoon, and rapped him on the nose. He stood there in shock so she slapped his nose a second time.
Terry and Char each grabbed a massive arm and yanked the Were-bear backwards.
“He really does need a little more than the rest of us,” Terry said, feeling the man’s muscles vibrate in anger. “He can have mine.”
“And mine,” Char offered.
Gene shoved his tray back across the line and Margie Rose slopped two additional servings on top of what was already there. Mashed green something took up half the tray and mystery meat filled the other half.
These were the best meals they were going to get until the farms started producing, and that was months away.
“Here, dear, we can’t have you go hungry. This is for the little one!” Margie Rose said with a grin, peeking at Char’s mid-section. Char obliged by pulling up her shirt to show her baby bump. The old woman giggled and called Claire from the kitchen.
Kae wondered when he was going to get fed. He held his tray up and nothing was happening. Margie Rose apologized profusely when she saw the little man. He received extra meat, because growing boys and all that. Terry looked hopefully at the two serving trays.
“Move along, mister, there are people waiting.” Margie Rose stopped Char when no one was looking and gave her Terry’s meal.
The platoon had gone first as they always did, privates eating before corporals eating before the sergeant.
Terry, Char, and Kaeden ate quickly because Joseph was out there on the road, waiting for them. If he got into their minds, he might run before they could stop him.
Then Akio would probably get angry. There was only one person responsible, and he was the one with no control, as he’d been told.
Despite trying to eat quickly, Gene finished in half the time it took Terry, and Terry Henry considered himself a professional speed-eater. He was little league compared to the Were-bear.
No one talked during breakfast, because it was chow time. When Terry wolfed his last bite, he made to stand up, but Char wasn’t finished. He took a deep breath and closed his eyes, willing himself to be patient.
“When Ted and Timmons first met the Forsaken, Timmons ordered James and Lacy and Gerry and Kiwi to think about sex. Ted started making nuclear calculations in his head. The only one who was left vulnerable wa
s Timmons.” Char slowed her eating as Terry stared at her food, wondering why it wasn’t getting shoveled into her mouth. She put her fork down and started to laugh at the expression that crossed his face.
“You are transparent, my husband. What if we were going to a ball, or a wedding, wouldn’t you want me to take my time and be that much more beautiful when we finally arrive?”
He recognized a trap when he saw one. Since he was already caught, he surrendered. “Of course, dear.”
They waited while she ate, but she was only keeping pace with Kaeden. They finished together and took their trays to the scullery where everyone worked doing dishes for the whole town. Margie Rose and Mrs. Grimes chose people as they came through the line for the next day’s service. There was no arguing because the alternative was that you wouldn’t eat. And while doing the dishes, you were allowed to sample the next meal.
They made it a win-win.
And people got to eat off clean dishes. Each person had carried a plate, bowl, and set of silverware during the journey. When they arrived, it was all consolidated under the watchful eyes of Antioch and Claire.
As Gene was leaving the dining room, he stopped, opened his mouth wide, and belched.
Char punched him in the back, but he wasn’t finished with the bass reverberation that some people swore shook the windows. Terry raised his hands over his head and flashed a ten, giving the belch a perfect score. Kaeden laughed and tried to burp, but ended up almost peeing himself.
“Thank God we’re having a girl,” Char said to herself as she tried to push Gene out of the way, but he was still belching. She wormed her way around him as Kae giggled at the monumental effort of the big man.
The pack was waiting for Char and she called them to her—the Werewolves and the Were-tiger. The Were-bear joined them after finally extricating himself from the chow hall. Char was unsure if Claire would ever allow the man back in without an adult escort.
Nomad Omnibus 02: A Kurtherian Gambit Series (A Terry Henry Walton Chronicles Omnibus) Page 29
