Nomad Omnibus 01_A Kurtherian Gambit Series

by Craig Martelle

  And with that human, too. Marcus smelled the man’s scent on her. He didn’t like to lose. First his mate, then the pack. Marcus scowled as he leapt over the rock and jogged downhill.

  Marcus’s mind raced into a deep, dark hole where he was left alone to fight the entire world by himself.

  “Challenge accepted, world, and fuck you!” he growled, picking up speed as he continued downward.

  CHAPTER THIRTY

  Felicity strolled outside with fresh baked bread, a generous helping of jam spread across the rough cut slices. Billy watched briefly from inside, drinking the concoction that replaced coffee. He couldn’t remember what coffee tasted like. It had been too long and he hadn’t drunk that much before the fall.

  Felicity had made a pitcher of the stuff and Billy’s job was to give the men drinks. He remembered when people brought him drinks. He wasn’t too keen on serving coffee.

  He shrugged into his coat and followed her out once she’d reached Mark and handed out the first couple slices. She had looked back to see if he was coming. He decided that he couldn’t avoid it any longer.

  When he reached Felicity, Mark and the man named Boris had their hands full. They kept one hand on their rifles, finger riding on the outside of the trigger guard and thumb resting on the selector lever. The other hand held their bread.

  “I’ll put this in the guard shack, stop by for a drink as you make your rounds,” he offered and bolted without looking at Felicity. He decided to choose his battles wisely when standing up to her, but damn, when she was in a good mood, his life was incredible!

  He’d been working on the side with the mechanic on a car that they both thought could be brought back from the dead, a 1930s roadster that had been locked away in a garage, but the engine was newer with a big carburetor that could burn a rougher fuel, a blend of alcohol and filtered ancient gasoline.

  That was the hope, but their extra pair of hands, the young woman called Lacy, had joined the Force and already left New Boulder with Terry Henry. Billy would have to pick up his game and get up earlier in order to work on the car. Felicity usually slept in. She might not even know he was out of the house.

  Billy put the pitcher in the guard shack. It would cool off quickly in the fall weather. He looked around and saw a towel, which he used to wrap around the pitcher as insulation. It could have been a rag. He couldn’t tell anymore. It had been too long since there’d been any new towels, material, or anything.

  He wanted a civilized society back, something he never thought he’d say. Terry was right. Civilization was better.

  Now was the time for the real work in bringing humanity back to civilization.

  When the alarm sounded, Billy was dicking around trying to keep a pitcher of coffee hot. He bolted from the shed and through the back door of his house, picked up his rifle where he’d leaned it by the front door, and continued outside.

  Marcus was strolling up the road, head held high, lips curled in an angry sneer.

  Mark and Boris aimed their rifles at the man. Felicity stood frozen behind them.

  “Felicity! Get in the house,” Billy yelled, but she remained where she was. Billy ran outside. Mark started walking to the left while Boris went right. David ran from the far end of the route they’d mapped out.

  Billy stepped in front of Felicity and aimed at the intruder.

  “Halt!” Mark yelled. Marcus ignored him.

  “She’s not here and you know that. She went north, following the main road to where it crosses the South Platte River. Then they were going to take the river east, through the Wastelands. They are going to look for more survivors,” Mark said.

  Billy was shocked at what Mark was sharing.

  Marcus stopped and looked at them. He sniffed the air and walked in a circle, not unlike a dog searching for a scent. Marcus looked north and started walking that way.

  Mark held up a clenched fist. The men stayed steady as Marcus walked uncomfortably close to them on his way north. The members of the Force watched in awe as the massive man strutted past. Felicity shivered as she stayed behind Billy, keeping one hand on his shoulder to let him know that she was there.

  Billy Spires let out the breath he’d been holding. His head pounded from the effort, and he blinked to clear his vision.

  “Mark, maybe you can explain to me what that was all about?” Billy said more calmly than he felt.

  “Yes, sir,” Mark started as he approached the mayor, never taking his eyes from the man walking away. “The colonel insisted we tell Marcus exactly that. He said even with our rifles, we wouldn’t be able to kill him, so not to try. The colonel wanted to lead him away from town, fight him out there in the Wastelands.”

  That made sense to Billy. From what he knew of the man, Terry Henry would never put his people at risk if there was a different way. Once again, Terry did exactly what he said he was going to do. “Carry on,” Billy said, mimicking what he’d heard from Terry.

  The colonel.

  It didn’t mean anything to Billy, but it did to his security chief and Billy was learning to trust the man. It wasn’t coming easy to him as he’d always counted on number one for his own security, but a growing town told him that he had to do things differently now, build infrastructure and establish stability of purpose while Terry provided the physical security. Together they created emotional security for the people to grow as a society.

  “I’ll be damned,” Billy blurted.

  “Not yet, Billy dear,” Felicity replied, taking his arm as he slung his rifle over his shoulder.

  “Don’t forget, Mark, there’s coffee for you and the boys in your shack,” the mayor told the corporal as he and Felicity returned to the house.

  * * *

  The horses had run freely up the road, through the ruins of what had been a robust series of suburbs, then to the northeast toward the abandoned town of Longmont. It then continued east where they ran into the trickle of water that formed the South Platte River. They’d marked their trail as they turned, using charcoal on the road.

  But they moved quickly too, trying to keep the distance up. Char suggested that at fifty miles a day, he could keep up without catching them. They could slow down when they hit Nebraska, but until then, they needed to keep up the pace.

  They traveled with one break the first day. After midday, they stopped and Terry told James to establish a perimeter and maintain a watch focused on the way they’d just come. Terry and Char disappeared into the ruins of a small town.

  Once safely on the other side, Terry watched Char undress, feeling like a voyeur as she did so. Once naked, she changed instantly into her Werewolf form, stretching very much like a big dog would. Terry pointed out a circuit for her to run a few laps while he setup up an obstacle course. She bolted away, throwing rocks and kicking up dirt as her paws and powerful legs drove her forward. Terry set up some obstacles that would force quick turns. Char made the first lap of what Terry thought should have been a half-mile in less than a minute, she churned through the tight turn at the end and raced off afresh.

  He roughed in a few arrows to help guide her through the twists, at least on the first pass. She returned shortly and Terry waved her out for one more lap. Her tongue lolled out of her mouth as she pounded through the corner and away.

  When she returned, he pointed out the marks on the ground and through the wreckage. She hit the first corner and jumped sharply left, then vaulted over a rusted truck, hit a wall and kicked off, landing in an open area, before running through a small maze, ending by working her way underneath overhanging debris.

  “Again!” Terry shouted and she headed through it a second time. Terry cracked his bullwhip over her head when she was close enough. Then on the third pass, he threw chunks of wood on either side of her head. She caught the first three and missed the next two. She went through it again and caught four of the five.

  Terry was throwing the wood blocks almost as hard as he could. No sense training to a low standard. After the last pas
s, he held out his arms and called a halt to the day’s training. She panted heavily, head hanging low.

  He scratched her behind her ears and stroked her neck. She stood on her back legs, putting her front paws over his shoulders. He hugged her to him and rubbed her sides as he did so. Then he found himself embracing a naked woman, finding his hand on her bare butt. He let go and tried to pull away, but she grabbed his head and planted her lips on his.

  The heat, like fire, burned him without burning, like a hot sauce that one was used to. Terry lost himself for a moment and then pushed her away, looking at her in surprise.

  “I’m not sure about this,” he said, sounding very unlike the Marine Corps colonel he was trying to be. “Integrity and honor above all.”

  “What’s any of that have to do with us?” she asked. “I can smell your pheromones. You can’t hide that from me.”

  “The people I loved ended up dead. I don’t know if I can love anyone again. Dammit, Char! We make a good team, and I don’t want to lose you. Go on now, get dressed. I’m sure the others are waiting impatiently,” he said, looking away.

  Char took two steps with her shoulders slumped. When she turned back, she saw Terry watching her, eyes glistening. She straightened as he blinked rapidly. She closed her eyes and breathed deeply, smiling at the pheromones that poured from Colonel Terry Henry Walton.

  “Someday,” she whispered as he beat a hasty retreat to where they left the horses and the others. Then she stopped when she smelled something else.

  * * *

  Marcus was running out of gas. He had been jogging for miles, following the charcoal marks on the roadway to keep going in the direction the others had gone. He’d sniff the ground on occasion to make sure the horses had come this way. He caught his mate’s scent on the air, in areas where the wind hadn’t touched it. But she was far ahead.

  He kept going, maintaining his anger, but he was burning out. The healing process from the bear’s injuries was taking more out of him than he wanted. He still had a ways to go. He finally stopped, because he needed to eat, which meant that he had to have enough energy to hunt, which he didn’t.

  Marcus found shelter in a small brick building. He curled up to sleep. He’d hunt after a nap and then he’d follow them, wherever they were going. He’d catch them and kill the humans, one by one, as Char watched. Then he’d have her, too. No one stood up to him like that.

  No one. Not ever.

  * * *

  Billy Spires walked through the power plant looking for the mechanic, but found the engineer first.

  “Billy!” the man called out, always happy to see his benefactor. The mayor had treated both the engineer and the mechanic right from day one after the WWDE. “What brings you in today?”

  “Just stopping by with a question. How many people are too many here in New Boulder?”

  “We’re not anywhere near that, Billy. This power plant? If we can improve the step-down transformers and distribution lines, we should be able to power a city ten times what we have now, as long as we use electrical heat sparingly or air conditioning in the summer. Those pull too large a load. Lights, cooking, and refrigeration shouldn’t be a problem for a city of a thousand people,” the man said, unsure if that was what Billy was looking for.

  Billy studied the overhead piping of the small facility. Steam rose in odd places. Some pipes dripped water and other chemicals to the floor. The place looked like it was held together by spit and bailing wire.

  “We need this place, engineer. Not going to fall apart or anything, is it?” Billy asked skeptically.

  “It could use a little work, but we just lost one of our hands. Lacy joined your security people. What do they call it?” The engineer curled a lip when he asked the question.

  “Force de Guerre, the FDG. I guess it means War Force or something like that. I don’t speak Greek.” Billy shrugged. “When they return, we’ll make sure we get Lacy back in here, and some more help for you, too. As the greenhouses wind down for the season, will you be able to use some of those people?”

  The man scratched his neck before answering, “Possibly. We need people who already have some mechanical skill. We can teach the others basics, but that takes time and takes us away from the main job of keeping the system dialed in, which reminds me, I need to get back to the control room.” The engineer excused himself and hurried off.

  Billy watched him go and continued his walk through the plant. He didn’t understand any of the systems, only that the engineer and the mechanic had brought it back to life after the fall. Billy had given them the freedom to accomplish that.

  Because he was a benevolent dictator. As Terry Henry had told him, the world needed Billy Spires and Billy needed them, too.

  Billy couldn’t find the mechanic. He decided to leave and go work on the car until he could ask a question about the alternator. They’d taken it off and Billy had cleaned it up, but had no idea how or even if it worked.

  The mechanic had taken the belts to the plant and carefully laid them in an area that was warm and filled with steam. He hoped that would rejuvenate the rubber so the belt would work as intended, turning the various shafts within the engine.

  When Billy opened the door to the garage, he found the mechanic installing the alternator. “Billy! You did a great job on this. It looks to be generating electricity as it’s supposed to. The battery is at the plant. We’ve tweaked up the acids inside and it looks to be holding a charge. You know what? I think this bitch is going to roll!”

  The mechanic’s grin was infectious. Billy rolled up his sleeves and prepared to dive in. Together they had kept at it, cleaning, scraping, grinding, and sanding as they rebuilt the engine, one step at a time. The mechanic loved the work, but he was getting older, already a good twenty years older than Billy. His hair had long since turned gray and his hands were gnarled from the hard work they’d done over a lifetime.

  “Isn’t it about time that you taught someone else, someone younger, mechanic?” Billy asked.

  “Fuck you and the horse you rode in on,” the man snapped back.

  “I’m just thinking that you’re getting older and look at everything you’ve learned in your life. You don’t want to waste that!” Billy explained.

  “I know exactly what you mean. When I die, poor Billy Spires and his woman are going to be left out in the cold. Like I said, fuck you.” The mechanic crawled from under the engine compartment and started wiping his hands, grumbling.

  That was what Billy meant, but surely the man had to know that it would take a while to train the next mechanic. Billy watched the man storm out, neither saying anything else.

  “You have to know that you’re getting older? Don’t you want to stand back and teach a younger generation?” Billy told the retreating figure, knowing that the mechanic couldn’t hear him.

  Billy didn’t understand what happened, but it made him think. What if someone brought that up to him? What would have happened to New Boulder if Marcus had killed him?

  Although Billy didn’t intend to die anytime soon, it would take him a while to pass on what he learned in his life.

  “I wonder how Felicity will be as a mother?” he asked himself out loud, thinking she may not go along with his newly discovered desire for an heir. That could be a rough conversation. He would have to make sure the windows were closed so they didn’t entertain the guards out front while Billy was getting neutered. He cringed at the thought.

  “Maybe she’ll take it well,” he said, trying to comfort himself.

  CHAPTER THIRTY-ONE

  James watched the colonel and the major as the group pushed on. Wherever they had gone on the break, something had changed between them. When they returned, the colonel was distant and short. The major was pleasant enough, but she couldn’t seem to take her eyes from Terry Henry.

  James figured they had a fight. He didn’t know much about relationships. His parents were inseparable all the way to their deaths. Once he arrived in Brownsville, he
didn’t see anything that looked like a normal relationship. Some of the oldsters talked about being married and settling down. They talked as if it were heaven.

  He’d been watching Terry and Char, the colonel and the major, and considered them to be as close as two human beings could be. He hoped they weren’t fighting, that could make a long trip pretty miserable. He had so much to learn while on the road.

  James sidled up next to the colonel during one of the walking phases of the travel. Thirty-thirty, he called it. Thirty minutes running and thirty minutes walking. James didn’t know how he determined the time, but when he waved them to run, they kicked the horses into a trot that devoured distance without wearing the horses down, then they’d walk to rest, while continuing to cover ground.

  They’d left the road and were traveling in the trickle of a river that was the South Platte. They watered the horses often, but didn’t let them graze as much as Gerry wanted. He conceded for the moment, but insisted they find a good place when they settled in for the night and give the horses the opportunity to eat to their hearts’ content.

  “Thanks for bringing me along,” James started. Terry nodded and looked at the young man. “I would like to know about training. We’re going to do an awful lot of riding, and I get that, but I have a lot to learn. I don’t want to waste any of the time I get to spend with you guys.”

  Terry looked across the road at Char. She was sniffing the air and squinting toward the horizon. He hoped she found the scent of something they could eat. He was getting hungry while trying to ration his remaining stash of goodies from Margie Rose. They’d been on the road nearly a full day, and he’d only eaten two pieces of venison jerky and a roll, besides the big breakfast the old woman had prepared.

  They needed to hunt. The horses needed to graze. And it was time to come clean with his people.