***
Chief Foxtail sat on one of the metal chairs in Billy’s office. He shifted uncomfortably, then decided it would be better to stand.
“How are the new quarters coming for your people?”
“I don’t think they are going to work for us,” the chief said pleasantly, while wearing a sad expression.
“I screwed it up, didn’t I?” Billy said forlornly, looking down and shaking his head. “I went out of my way to provide the very best quarters that we had, but that’s not it, is it? These are on the other side of the base, farther inland and that’s the issue, isn’t it?”
“You are most perceptive, Mayor Billy Spires.” The chief sat calmly and watched the man who had saved him from a beating when he was at a low point in his life, the man he considered to be his friend. “We don’t want to be apart from the town. Black Feather lived a long life and of all the things he could have said for his final words, he chose, one land, one people. I cannot go against what he spent his life to tell us.”
“Then we’ll do something different. Let’s take a walk and see what we can find,” Billy offered, standing and waiting for Felicity. The chief watched her closely.
“What?” she asked more pointedly than intended, looking straight at the chief. “I’m sorry. I don’t want to be on your bad side, that’s all. It seems we got off on the wrong foot all those months ago out in the middle of nowhere.”
“Indeed.” Foxtail stood as Marcie escaped and ran around the desk and collided with his legs, holding her arms up. He lifted her, taken by her smile and golden blond hair, fine as corn silk. “I may have been mistaken. You have done wonders with your family, Miss Felicity.”
The chief shifted Marcie to one arm and he led the way out of the mayor’s building.
“How about right in the middle of it all, as long as you don’t mind getting up early,” Billy said. “And as long as you don’t mind that it’s not single family homes.”
“A home is what you make of it, is it not, Billy Spires?” Foxtail asked.
“It is,” Felicity drawled, putting herself into the conversation, staying close to her daughter while Billy walked on the chief’s other side. “It’s a new world where the old ideals no longer make sense. A car in the driveway, chicken in the oven, two kids and all that—that’s someone else’s idea of what a perfect family is. Screw that. What I’ve learned is that your family is what you make it, not who was born where.”
“And that is why we must move. Someday, maybe we’ll move back, but only if others join us. Let there be nothing between us, Billy and Felicity, not people, not a road, not a fence.” Foxtail looked at his two companions.
Marcie reached her small hand up and grabbed the chief’s lip, tugging on it until he carefully removed her small fingers. She then went for his nose and that was when Billy relieved the chief of his small blond bundle.
“I couldn’t have said it better myself, Foxtail,” Billy added in his gruff voice. “And you’ll be close to the women who were rescued. They are starting to integrate, but we need help making them feel like part of the family. They’ve been keeping mostly to themselves, and you just said what we have to have. A bunch of separate groups won’t build this town into a city. There’s no room for any of that.”
Billy shifted Marcie from one hip to another. She was getting big and he was having difficulty carrying her for long distances. He stopped and put her down, holding her small hand as she tottered alongside.
“Let me introduce you to Mayra, she’s kind of like the mother of the group,” Billy said as they slowed their pace to accommodate the toddler. Past the dining facility and into the building that the Force called the barracks. Someone had found paint that was still good and had used it to neatly write the letters FDG next to the main entrance.
The four walked in, Felicity picked up Marcie, and they climbed the stairs to the second floor. Billy stopped before walking into the hallway. He leaned forward and shouted. “It’s me, Mayor Billy Spires, and I’d like to talk with Mayra please!”
The chief wore a questioning look.
“They asked for no surprises and especially that no men enter the floor without being escorted by one of their own. It seemed the right thing to do to agree with those conditions. The entirety of the FDG is on the first floor to secure the building and ensure their safety if needed,” Billy explained as he waited.
Felicity squeezed past the men and walked casually down the hallway. She tapped softly on the door where they knew Mayra was staying. With a shrug, Felicity walked back to see the men. A door opened along the way and two faces peered out, a young woman and a small child.
They greeted Felicity warmly. She put Marcie down and took their hands in hers. Neither Billy nor Foxtail could hear what they said, but they could tell that this wasn’t the first time Felicity had talked with the young woman.
“I think someone has already worked their magic here,” the chief suggested.
“I believe you are right, my friend,” Billy replied.
Sounds in the stairway said that someone was on their way up. The men turned to give the person room, and found Mayra standing behind them.
“We just came to see you,” Billy started, shifting to the side of the landing in case she wanted to reach the safety of the hallway, but she stayed where she was.
“Oh?” was all she said in reply.
“We’d like to put Chief Foxtail and his people in the building next door and were hoping that some of the people here would be able to help their transition. They’ve been in the houses on the other side of the base, but that’s too far away. We need to be together, but barracks living is different. They could use a hand, that’s all,” Billy said, trying not to sound like he was pleading.
“We’d like to start a school for the children,” Mayra said as if Billy hadn’t spoken.
“That is an incredible idea. What do you need from us to make that happen?” Felicity asked. Chief Foxtail smiled at Billy and winked.
CHAPTER FOUR
Terry visited the motor pool to say hi to the oldsters working there. The men were filling out because of getting enough food and working out with the younger warriors of the FDG. They looked good, and they wore the scars from the Forsaken like badges of honor.
Terry stopped by as often as he could to talk with them about nothing and everything, thank them for all they did to give the others hope.
It was inevitable that Terry stopped by the dune buggy, not the wrecked one but the one with the fifty cal. He thought of that weapon as the epitome of tactical unit firepower.
“How are you, my little mod deuce?” he asked.
Corporal Heitz leaned on the roll bar, looking like he wanted to say something. “Out with it, Heitzy,” the colonel told him.
“You know that we don’t call it the mod deuce. We call it ma deuce,” the corporal said softly.
“We use both terms. Homonyms, colloquialisms, alternate nicknames, that kind of stuff,” Terry tried to explain. “What’s your name, Heitzy?”
“The name’s Max, sir. We don’t call it anything else in the grunts. Were you a staff officer or something?” Corporal Heitz asked.
“Not at all, and that’s pretty insulting, Max. I was front lines all the way, but we were light, traveled only with what we could carry.” Terry slapped the man on the shoulder to show that he wasn’t upset. He didn’t want the men to think they couldn’t talk with him. “I like me a big gun, but that bitch was too heavy to hump all over God’s creation. We tried taking the M60 once, but it was a ball buster once you added the bipod and cans of ammunition. We melted that fucker with a thermite grenade after burning through two cans of ammo.”
“Just letting you know, sir. I’m glad you took it well, so you won’t call it that anymore? You’ll get it right?” Corporal Heitz pressed with a half-smile.
“You ever hear it called the big hurt? That was my favorite, but didn’t go over too well on the radio. I love this weapon, Heitzy. A dune bu
ggy with a fifty cal. It don’t get no better ‘n this, does it?” Terry appreciated the oldsters and what they brought to the game. He trusted them completely and they were undyingly loyal. He could ask for no better. “We’ll compromise. I’ll call it the fifty cal and you call it the ma deuce. Deal?”
“That will work, sir. Semper fi,” the old man said.
“Semper fi, Max. Stay proud, Corporal.” Terry shook the corporal’s hand, before returning to the dune buggy to play with the fifty cal, inspect it, and clean it if need be.
***
Timmons was tapping his foot when Adams and Merrit showed up. They walked casually, as if they had all the time in the world.
“Any time you buttstains want to join us commoners, we’d appreciate it!” Timmons yelled from the second catwalk up. Adams gave him the thumbs up as they headed for the stairs.
Timmons watched impatiently as the two Werewolves talked and climbed.
“I have to say, Timmons, old chap, you have worked wonders with this old boar hog. It is simply marvelous!” Merrit offered in a contrived English accent.
“I’m glad you approve, asshat!” Timmons answered.
“I think we’ve been insulted! Cast down thy gauntlet, knave!” Merrit continued. Timmons didn’t see the humor in it.
“I hope you don’t think you’re done working for the day, because the hard shit hasn’t even started yet. We’re in a tough place with the last bit of piping and we need you two to lift it into place so we can get the chains on it,” Timmons said pleasantly.
“Lift a pipe. That’s it? How hard can it be?” Adams wondered.
Famous last words, smartass, Timmons thought.
***
At the appointed time, Ted and Gene fired up the small power plant on the base and threw the bayonet switch that sent power surging toward the Waukegan plant where Timmons and the others were working to finish up piping in one of the subsystems.
They were getting closer to having power.
Ted was upset that he had to run the small plant instead of working with the Mini Cooper. They’d established the tie-ins that would allow them to keep the small reactor on the tracks.
Ted and Gene were ready to move the Mini Cooper to its new home on the north side of the plant, using the last spur of track. Timmons had two people perform repairs to tighten the track down and make sure it didn’t come apart as they moved the train in.
None of that mattered while they were trapped in the power generating station on the base.
“This is running fine, Gene,” Ted said casually as he made one final adjustment on a water feed. “Let’s move the Mini Cooper to the old plant. Maybe Timmons will improve his pace if he sees the modular reactor sitting outside his plant, waiting to be turned loose.”
“This boring. We go drive train now, my small friend,” Gene said throwing a crescent wrench down and heading for the door without looking back.
Ted looked and listened one last time before joining Gene. When he made it outside, they both started to run for the train.
When the system alarm sounded in the plant, no one was there to hear it.
***
“Lo, righty, lo!” Mark sang as the platoon ran in formation, in step to the Jody call. They were on their second circuit of the base when Ted and Gene sprinted past with the bear cub and wolf pack hot on their heels.
Mark pointed for the group to follow and off they went, picking up the pace and still falling behind.
It wasn’t long before Ted and Gene reached their objective, climbed aboard the steam engine, and started stoking the coal.
Mark slowed the formation to a march, then halted it, executed a left face, and let the warriors fall out to stretch and catch their breath.
James, Charlie, and Lacy joined the platoon sergeant as he approached the engine.
“Hello!” Mark called. Ted was engrossed in what he was doing and didn’t hear, but the ever ebullient Gene worked his way out of the cab and waved.
“Watch out, we drive train down tracks,” Gene warned them. Ted shook his head.
“We need to build up steam first, then we’ll drive the train down the tracks. And we need to switch out up ahead since we need the engine behind the Mini Cooper, not in front of it. We need to unhook the tanker cars as well. Run ahead and be ready to switch the track for us,” Ted directed, handing down the pry bar needed to manually switch the tracks.
Mark wanted to ask a question but Ted returned to whatever he was doing inside the cabin of the old steam locomotive.
The corporals looked to Mark for direction.
“I guess we help move the train,” Mark said, not sounding confident. He’d had a training plan for the day and this would impact it. He had intended to take the platoon shooting, if the colonel approved the place they’d chosen for their rifle range. Everyone needed practice with the M4 carbines. They were shepherding the remaining ammunition for the AK-47s as they were finally starting to run low with only a few thousand rounds left.
The platoon had more than thirty warriors with the natives added in, allowing Terry to form three fire teams per squad. They also created the rank of lance corporal for the fire team leaders.
The military organizational structure was taking shape. Terry wanted to create a weapons platoon too, but had to wait until after he could get back to Cheyenne Mountain and load up some of the heavier gear, fifty caliber machineguns, mortars, and even man-portable rockets.
Mark wasn’t sure what that kind of weaponry was used for, but the colonel knew things that none of them did, and if he wanted the firepower, there had to be a good reason.
Or as the major suspected, he was a big kid and liked bigger toys. Mark had watched the colonel kill the buffalo with the machinegun on the dune buggy. Admittedly, they needed the food, but the colonel looked too happy afterward.
Mark suspected that Char was right.
They formed the platoon and with Jim carrying the massive pry bar, they route-marched carefully up the tracks to remove anything blocking the way before they switched the tracks back and forth to make sure they were ready for Ted and Gene when they were driving the train.
***
“Could this be any heavier?” Adams whined, bent over as he tried to brace himself between an I-beam and a bank of piping.
“What the hell are you bitching about?” Merrit grumbled through gritted teeth, holding the far end of the pipe over his head like Mister Universe.
They both wore huge padded gloves to provide insulation from the electricity in the electric welder that Timmons had rigged up.
Shonna dangled from a rack above as they eased the pipe into place. She wrapped it with chains and used shims to line one pipe into the other. On the opposite end, Timmons was doing the same thing to get the pipe into the best position where they could tack weld it into place, then finish the welding at a more leisurely pace once the piping was where it needed to be.
“Lift it a little higher…that’s too high…back it off a little…too far, give me a little…” Timmons guided with his head resting on the pipe to best aim one pipe at the other.
The lights went out, plunging the Waukegan plant into darkness. The four Werewolves could still see, but Timmons was not amused.
“What did those two goofy bastards do now? They had one fucking job!” Timmons yelled as he fought with the pipe. Shonna grunted from the other end as Adams and Merrit struggled to remain still.
“I’m pretty sure that I’d love to trade places with them right about now,” Adams mumbled.
“Was that an explosion?” Timmons asked.
“I didn’t hear anything,” Shonna answered.
“Neither did I,” Timmons said sarcastically. “So whatever happened, it wasn’t that bad and they’re probably not dead. Shame.” Timmons was furious. He’d been in the small plant the day before and Ted was keeping it immaculate. Timmons couldn’t think of any reason why the plant would stop producing power.
“This will have to be good enough
for now since we can’t weld without power. I think a trip to the other plant is in order, don’t you?” Timmons asked Shonna.
Adams and Merrit whole-heartedly agreed as the only thing they wanted was to not be there for round two of lifting the heavy-ass pipe. Even with their Werewolf strength, the strain was immense. That was why the humans weren’t anywhere near.
Merrit tightened his clamps and checked the chain one last time. Shonna made sure she was clear and nodded.
“Easy now when you let go,” Merrit said softly, watching the pipe to see how it would shift. As Merrit slowly bent to get from under the pipe, it settled about an inch lower than what Timmons was hoping for.
“Those two better have a good reason, otherwise, we may be dining on bear this evening,” Timmons snarled.
He climbed down while Shonna executed a smooth backflip from her perch and landed cleanly on the catwalk.
There was no need for conversation as they stormed past Adams and Merrit on their way to the other power plant. They disappeared down the steps. Adams looked at Merrit as they both massaged aching muscles.
“I think I’d like to take up fishing,” Adams said casually.
“I’ll take up anything that doesn’t involve carrying the Golden Gate Bridge on my back.”
***
Mark looked from his position at the first switch. He had spread the platoon along the route, although he wasn’t sure what they could do. He knew Ted would expect the warriors to be standing by ready to respond at a moment’s notice. In some things, Ted had infinite patience—in others, none at all.
Mark saw a movement on the tracks in the opposite direction from which the train would be coming. His first thought was his people were goofing around, but most of them were sitting down. It didn’t take long before he realized it was the two engineers, Shonna and Merrit.
Judging by the way they were walking, they didn’t look happy. The warriors popped to attention as the warrant officers passed. Mark was disappointed that the two didn’t acknowledge the members of the FDG, but as they got close, the looks on their faces told him not to be contentious.
Nomad Omnibus 02: A Kurtherian Gambit Series (A Terry Henry Walton Chronicles Omnibus) Page 42
