Marcie had only been a toddler when they’d made the trip. Kaeden had joined the community during the move.
Kaeden had turned into a stout young man, barely taller than Billy, but wide and strong. He worked on the fishing boat most days, but not today. Six days on and one off. This happened to be his day to rest. He’d be back on the lake the next day.
Kaeden and Marcie’s baby fussed in Kae’s arms. “Do you need your mommy?” he asked little William, but Marcie gave him the stink-eye. He reconsidered his position, before adding, “No, you don’t!”
He turned and walked away, bouncing the baby merrily and hoping to remain in the good graces of his beautiful wife. She smiled and shook her head at him.
“I love you,” he mouthed to her. Terry had taught him that it was important to mean it and important to say it. He’d learned that late in life and didn’t want Kae to miss out because he was a stubborn man.
“Just like his mother, that one,” Felicity suggested. Marcie furled her brow.
“You’re saying I was a fussy baby? That’s not how I remember it,” she retorted.
“People thought I was a mutant with a permanent attachment on my hip,” Felicity replied, smiling. “You always needed to be bounced. If that’s the worst of it? You’re going to be just fine.”
Marcie and Kae’s daughter, the three-year-old Mary Ellen, ran away from her mother and grandmother, giggling. Felicity took chase and soon they found themselves on the other side of the park.
Kimber ran up, out of breath. “Where’s Kae?” she demanded without explaining. The worry on her face surprised Felicity.
“What happened?” the mayor asked, turning to the side so Kim could see her brother.
“They’ve taken Father. The Forsaken have taken our father!”
Felicity didn’t hesitate. She scooped up Mary Ellen and ran. Kim kept pace as they crossed the field. Kae stopped what he was doing, concern spreading across his face.
“Forsaken have taken Father. We need to join the FDG!” she insisted, waving William away when he reached toward his aunt. Her tone scared him, and he started to cry.
“I’m sorry, Liam,” she cooed, but still wouldn’t take him. Kae handed the boy to Marcie, kissing her on the cheek as he did so. He wrapped his fingers in his wife’s blond hair and twirled one lock.
Her big blue eyes glistened, because she too was afraid. William started to cry harder as Marcie hugged him to her. “I’ll come back to you. I’ll always come home to you.”
She nodded as her lips trembled. Kaeden couldn’t stand to see her cry. It was heart-wrenching. He kissed her again and joined his sister as they ran for the FDG barracks.
Terry’s Prison
“You are one sad fucker,” Terry mumbled, blinking away the sweat and blood to better see his tormentor.
“Terry Henry Walton. You are renowned in many circles for your ability to sling a phrase, and the best you can come up with is ‘sad fucker?’ I am truly disappointed,” Kirkus complained with a half-smile.
“My apologies to your sensibilities. Methink’st thou art a general offence and every man should beat thee,” Terry quoted Shakespeare in a gravelly voice. “Or maybe, you are a gorbellied, fen-sucked coxcomb?”
Terry’s mind was a jumble, but the mental exercise of stringing various Shakespearean words together to create insults comforted him. It reminded him of his daughter, named after one of Shakespeare’s characters.
Cordelia. He saw the toddler in his mind’s eye. He thought he heard something, but it faded into the distance. The only thing before him was his daughter.
She was barely walking, but fearless. Once she saved their lives after the wolverine attack, the wolf pack took to following her around. The former alpha walked at the child’s side, letting her wrap her hand in the heavy neck hair to help her balance, help her run.
Terry looked away for only a moment. When he looked back, Cory was on the wolf’s back, riding the bitch as nine others ran alongside. They disappeared into the woods on the south side of the former base that the people of North Chicago now called home.
He ran after them, jogging at first, but when he entered the woods, he couldn’t hear the wolves at all. It was like they never passed through there, like they never existed.
Terry ran, as fast as his enhanced body would carry him, but he found no sign of the pack. He turned and ran home, needing to rally the people and search for his daughter.
When he entered Mayor’s Park, he found Cory riding the wolf. They were running in circles.
“How’d you get back here?” he asked, wondering whether it was a dream or a memory.
“We made a loop!” Cory said excitedly. The pack knew that she was a child and since they had adopted her, they were teaching her their ways, while also playing like a bunch of puppies. Terry Henry could not have been prouder.
Cory was growing up to know both the way of the pack and the way of humanity. As she matured, those lessons would keep her safe, but Terry always worried.
Terry’s memory clouded for an instant, and when it cleared, it was more than a decade later.
Thirteen-year-old Cordelia was a beautiful young lady who looked too much like an adult. The men had too much to drink. Alcohol reduced one of them into a savage. He grabbed Cory by her hair and tried to kiss her.
Terry watched from a second-story window, unable to move. The young man needed to be taught a lesson, harshly enough that the young man would learn what civilization was all about.
What bothered Terry the most was that the man looked at Cory like a piece of meat and not an intelligent human being.
Cory kneed the man hard. Being tall like her parents, she was able to leverage more power into her move. The man came off the ground and crumpled, laying in the fetal position and crying. “BITCH!” the man yelled through gritted teeth.
Terry was angry and demanded retribution.
Cory kicked the man in the face, not a roundhouse but a snap-kick using a well-practiced technique. She laughed, musically, in a way that naturally drew others to her. She smiled, tossed her hair over her shoulders, and strolled away. Terry smiled.
Until someone slapped him.
“Come back to me, TH. I don’t give a shit about your mutant spawn. Show me the woman with the purple eyes,” Kirkus demanded, wiping Terry’s sweat and blood from his hand with a rag.
“Love to, dickless, but shit-eating ass monkeys like you don’t rate. Since we’re talking about asses, why don’t you go fuck yourself, Kirky-poo,” Terry chuckled.
Kirkus snorted in derision and balled his fist, but he’d had enough of punching Terry Henry Walton. The man felt like he was made of steel. Kirkus wondered how a metal pipe would fare against a man of steel.
“I’ll be right back, Mister Terry Henry Walton, and we can discuss purple eyes and all manner of things that I have in store for her,” the Forsaken sneered.
Kirkus strolled away, dousing the light on his way out and plunging the room into complete darkness.
“That’s Colonel, you asswipe.”
CHAPTER TWO
North Chicago
“Akio, answer, please answer,” Char pleaded with the silent communication device. “Why won’t you answer?” she bellowed, clenching her jaw, hands curling into fists.
She reared back to slam the device into the table but thought better of it. TH had the other device, and if they lost hers, then they would have no way of contacting Akio, guaranteeing that Terry Henry would be left alone to his fate.
She couldn’t have that, but her anger brought clarity. They needed to do something.
“Where could they have taken him?” she asked the pack. No one answered, but no one looked away. They watched as the alpha dominated. Her pheromones were overwhelming.
Timmons had already been on the receiving end of being unhelpful. He and the others were ready to do her bidding. All she had to do was command it.
Cordelia was there, along with the rest of the pack. They simply st
ood in silence and watched, wondering what to do next.
“How did they know where TH was going to be?” Char wondered. She steeled herself, standing up straight. She remembered a tidbit of Terry Henry wisdom. If you lack information, get it. “Spread out, run the perimeter and find someone who saw something, find if they used technology, find out how they knew! You have one hour. Go.”
Cordelia waited while the others conferred and then, at Were speed, they ran in separate directions, heading for the town’s border to search for people and things.
“We’ll find him. If it’s the last thing we do, we’ll find him,” Cory said softly as she rubbed her mother’s arm.
Char nodded, her features set. No tears. No crippling angst. Heat burned within her like a volcano ready to erupt. Her mind was clear and focused.
“Take this,” she said, handing the communication device to Cory. “I’m going to see Jonas and then Joseph. Send up a flare if you hear from Akio. Have him bring at least one pod and all the Earth-searching horsepower at his disposal. I will return as soon as I see your signal. I know we’ll find him. If I have to kill every living creature between here and hell, I’ll do it to get him back.”
Cory nodded, although she didn’t agree. She did not want to see her beautiful mother rampage across the countryside, killing innocents as she went. The young woman knew that the Werewolf would leave no skin unshredded as she searched if it came to that.
Char stripped, tied her clothes into a tight bundle, and then changed into a brown-pelted Werewolf, lean and majestic. She grabbed the clothes bundle in her jaws and dashed away.
Please don’t kill everyone, Cory begged in a whisper as she rubbed the fur on her ears, a nervous habit that she’d had her whole life.
Beijing
The Forsaken had been raising their heads at inconvenient places and inconvenient times. It was Akio’s place to stop them.
Akio was in China, the place that had been demanding more and more of his time. They were breeding Weretigers and creating more Forsaken.
Akio had found himself rushing from one crisis to another. He hesitated to use the Force de Guerre because the issues were small with minimal numbers of Forsaken involved. Akio found it easiest to take care of them himself.
But they were becoming increasingly complex, almost as if the Forsaken were sacrificing their own in order to find the tipping point where they could overwhelm Akio, maybe take on the FDG directly.
Not this time, Akio thought.
The pod landed, opened, and Akio faded into the darkness. The ten-story building on the outskirts of Beijing was being used by yet another Forsaken, building yet another stronghold from which to harvest humanity.
Akio couldn’t allow that.
Four guards watched, three on the ground outside and one on the roof. Akio slipped soundlessly through the urban sprawl, stopping when his communication device vibrated ever so gently. Without looking at it, he shut the device down. He would turn it on when he finished cleaning out the hornet’s nest.
The first man never knew that someone else was there, a shadow hidden within the blackness of night. A crushing throat punch, followed by a hand clamped tightly over the man’s mouth. The guard spasmed as his muscles demanded oxygen that would never come.
The man died kicking against the ground as he lost control of his legs. Akio froze, then gently laid the body to the side and hurried toward his next victim.
The second man died in the same way, in the shadows, with no voice to cry for help, wondering until the end of his life what had happened.
The third man knew something had happened when he expected to cross paths with the others during his rounds and they were nowhere to be seen. He shouted to the man on the roof in Chinese. “Sound the alarm!”
Akio heard the men yelling. He pulled his katana from its saya, its scabbard, and ran toward the third man. He saw the movement and lowered his spear, but it was too late. Akio was past, and his sword had already bitten deeply, rending the man from shoulder to belly.
The man jerked as he flopped to the ground in disbelief at how quickly he was going to die.
Akio moved to the side of the building, and as gracefully as a dancer on the stage, he climbed the building. Over one hundred feet into the air, he continued until he vaulted over the retaining wall and onto the roof. He crouched low to keep from further silhouetting himself. The guard had been looking over the other side. Akio ran, his footfalls making no sound on the light sandy gravel of the roof.
When the man turned, Akio’s blade embedded itself in his body. Twisting and turning, Akio finished the guard, pulling his sword free. He headed for the roof’s door without looking back.
Before he opened the door, he reached out, found the Forsaken, the acolytes, and the victims. His lip curled as he fought to maintain his external calm. He loosened his shoulders and narrowed his eyes as he turned the knob and prepared to go to work.
North Chicago
“You tell me what you heard!” Gene demanded, pounding on the door frame. A family lived on the edge of town, maintaining a small garden and two horses that they used to travel back and forth to the real farms to the west.
The young man looked alarmed while his children cowered in fear. Many in the community had never gotten used to Gene because of his size and rough manners.
“What happened again?” the man asked, leaning away from Gene as if expecting a blow from the Werebear’s massive fists.
“Colonel Terry has been taken by bad people flying an air vehicle of some sort,” Gene said in his heavy Russian accent. “It was not far. You heard something. You tell me now!”
The man tried to shut the door, but Gene punched it. Aaron appeared behind him and tried to work his way in where Gene would see him before Gene did anything untoward.
“I’m sorry, good sir,” Aaron said pleasantly, taller than Gene but a sapling compared to a redwood’s trunk. “If you heard or saw anything in the pre-dawn, we would really like to know.”
“Nothing. We were sleeping,” the man replied, never taking his eyes from Gene.
“The lady of the house? Maybe your children?” Aaron pressed.
The man turned to look inside the aging structure. “Wait, what?” he asked someone within. A woman appeared, with straggly hair, brown eyes, and an expression of perpetual interest.
“I heard something. One man yelling in the dawn. Usually, it’s so quiet out here, that’s what woke me up,” she offered in a faint voice.
Aaron slapped Gene on the arm before the Werebear chased her away. “Only one man was yelling? No one else?” Aaron wondered.
“Yes, only Terry Henry,” she answered.
“You know it was him for a fact?”
“Pretty sure.” She inched closer to the door with the greater interest that Aaron was taking in her words.
“What did he say?” Aaron focused like a laser beam on her.
“I couldn’t hear the words, not all of them, but there were plenty of F-Bombs. I’m sure of that!” she said proudly.
Gene snickered. “Of course he drop fuck bomb. He did not go down without fight.”
“Terry’s dead?” the man blurted, eyes wide as he tried to get his head wrapped around what the two were saying.
“No!” Gene exclaimed, waving his hands wildly as the conversation wasn’t helping him and there were others in the area that he wanted to talk with. “He was taken by bad men with an airplane. You had to hear airplane?”
“Nope,” the man replied, relaxing since Terry wasn’t dead. He, like everyone else in town, considered Terry Henry Walton to be invincible. If he were only taken, then they wouldn’t worry because he would not treat them kindly.
“Bah!” Gene threw his hands up in disgust and stormed away, almost mowing Aaron down as he passed.
“Thank you, both. Wish us luck!” Aaron said with a smile before walking away.
The story was the same from the rest. Everybody heard something. No one saw anything. No one did
anything.
And that was how Terry Henry was taken. How many times in the past thirty years had Colonel Walton shown up and saved the day? It was his way. But when his time came, when he needed help, everyone slept soundly in the secure bubble that he’d created for them.
He was condemned to fight alone.
After the last house, Gene changed into his Werebear form so he could stand and roar his anger, demand vengeance, and beg forgiveness.
Crashing through the brush, a graying face appeared.
“Bogdan,” Aaron whispered. The two bears nuzzled, and Gene changed back into human form so he could hug his friend. The grizzly weighed in at nearly eight hundred pounds. He’d been with humans nearly his whole life, so he wasn’t a threat to them. The people of North Chicago looked at him as the town mascot. He and the elephant Jumbo held special places within the community.
Bogdan wasn’t sporting the lean muscle of a wild bear, but he could hunt and take care of himself.
Like the time he got into the Weathers’ cow pasture.
“You are lucky you survived that one, my son,” Gene told him.
“You need to get your clothes on,” Aaron said, averting his eyes from the big man.
“What for? This is Grade A prime beef!” Gene bellowed, beating on his chest like a gorilla. Bogdan mirrored the big man’s motions.
“Clothes!” Aaron insisted.
Terry’s Prison
Someone opened the door and entered. Without raising his head, Terry looked up from under his brow. He tracked the newcomer until the door closed, cutting off the little light from the hallway beyond.
“I can smell you,” Terry whispered, listening with every fiber of his being. He could hear his own heartbeat. The newcomer moved almost as quietly as a butterfly, but the slight rustle of clothing gave him away.
Terry leaned back against his chains, rotating his shoulder as he stretched onto his tiptoes. It popped back into the socket with an audible thump. He gasped, but already his augmented nanocytes were at work.
Nomad Omnibus 02: A Kurtherian Gambit Series (A Terry Henry Walton Chronicles Omnibus) Page 59
