Nomad Avenged: A Kurtherian Gambit Series (Terry Henry Walton Chronicles Book 7)

by Craig Martelle

  Sue looked at her mate, wondering where the philosophy had come from. Tyranny wasn’t a word that Timmons used.

  “If we don’t move forward, then what would we do? Why would we exist?” Sue asked.

  Ayashe shrugged.

  “Why do you ask?” Timmons wondered.

  “My mother saw Metaguas today. Someone is going to die. I know it. It’s been a long time since the rabbit has appeared, but there he was, in the park with the rest of us. I didn’t see anything, but my mother has the gift.”

  “Then we will see who Metaguas has come for. No matter what, the survivors will always carry on, because they have to. We have a responsibility to humanity. Our alpha has declared that as our purpose. It is how things are and how they will be,” Sue replied matter-of-factly.

  Timmons grabbed one of the young woman’s shoulders and Sue took the other. “We’re in this together. All of us. We’ll see it to the end, won’t we, Ayashe? No matter how it turns out, the one thing we guarantee is that we will win or die trying.”

  ***

  “I gotta pee,” Max told his friend.

  “What the hell am I supposed to do about it?” Blevin replied. Someone nearby snickered.

  “I don’t know. Drop the ramp and let me pee out the back.” Max started struggling to pull himself out of the jeep.

  Adams and Merrit watched curiously, wondering what the oldster was going to do. They wondered what it was like to get old, something they wouldn’t experience for a long time.

  “Sit your ass down!” Blackbeard bellowed. Max gave him the finger.

  The lieutenant calmly got up and climbed over people, balancing himself between the seats along the side of the pod and the jeep.

  “Come on, Max. We’re not dropping the ramp. You have to hold it,” Blackie told the old man.

  “Listen here, you little fucker, when you get to be my age, peeing isn’t something you can turn on and off. When it’s time, it’s time. It’s like when the rain comes. You can’t hold that back. Now, I gotta go, Lieutenant. What are you going to do to accommodate the troops?”

  Blackie rolled his eyes and shook his head.

  “Who’s got a mortar round?” A couple of the warriors raised their hands. He pointed to one of them. “Take the round out and give me the case.”

  There was some discombobulation as the warrior removed his pack and pulled the round out, holding it away from himself so he didn’t dent the delicate fins.

  Blackie took the case--a long, plastic cylinder sealed at one end with a cap at the other. The gasket was intact, which meant the case would seal after Max was done taking care of business.

  “Here. Don’t make a mess,” Blackie tried to order.

  “No guarantees, Lieutenant. Thanks, but I would have been perfectly happy hanging it off the end of the ramp!” Max and Blevin both laughed as they thought how that would have worked.

  “Sure. Can you imagine the colonel’s face when we told him we let you fall out the back of the pod?”

  Max mumbled something, but he was already at work, taking care of his personal business. Blackie made a hasty retreat, giving the thumbs up to the warrior still holding the mortar round in his hands and a look of confusion on his face.

  Blackie studiously ignored him as did the rest of the warriors. He resigned himself to holding the mortar round and remembered the old adage of “never volunteer for anything.”

  CHAPTER ELEVEN

  Flying in the Pod

  The pod slowed as Eve painstakingly reconstructed the other pod’s path. The target had flown beneath the clouds, forcing Eve to search every opening on the original flight path, but the pod never reappeared. Then Eve traced the borders of the entire clouded area and searched, looking for where the pod emerged.

  The clouds covered half a state. That was too much territory to search, but if Char was given no other choice, she would walk every inch of the ground.

  From the southern end of what used to be Indiana to the southern border of Kentucky and for a similar distance from east to west was the refined search area.

  “I am afraid, Charumati-san, that this is the best we can do. The Forsaken’s pod has landed somewhere within this area.” Akio drew a box with his hands over the map displayed on the screen.

  “What’s the biggest city in that area?” Char asked.

  “Louisville,” Akio replied, clearly pronouncing the ‘s.’

  “Let’s start with Louisville,” she suggested, pronouncing it as ‘Looavull.’ “We’ll pass low and slow over the city, separate the pods by ten miles. If a Forsaken is down there, we’ll sense him.”

  Akio nodded and quickly programmed the flight computers of the three aircraft.

  They covered the distance quickly and slowed once they reached the outskirts of what had once been Louisville, Kentucky. The city had never recovered, but it looked like the small towns that cropped up on the outskirts were thriving. In an agricultural world, it made sense that places best suited for growing food would rebound the best.

  The pods made three passes over the city, discovering three Werewolves, but no Forsaken.

  “We’ll come back later to find out who you are,” she promised the unknown Weres on the ground. “Anything, Joseph?”

  The Forsaken shook his head. “I share your concern,” was all he said. He closed his eyes and leaned back, digging deeper into the etheric, continuing his own search for his brethren. They’d crossed the line, and he had no intention of protecting them.

  He liked the status quo, where he could be himself and not worry about getting his head cut off. Twenty-five years ago, Joseph had excused himself from the community of North Chicago and gone to sleep. He woke four years later, refreshed and famished. Terry had welcomed him back like one would an old friend. Joseph didn’t have to wonder. He knew.

  Terry Henry Walton was his only friend. The others tolerated him, but given a choice, they wouldn’t simply stand around and do nothing with the Forsaken. Terry was special, because he would and he had no errant thoughts. He did it because he was a nice guy, not because he felt pity. Joseph would know that, and that wasn’t Terry.

  Joseph opened his eyes and found himself on the pod. The others were occupying their minds with a variety of diversions, many simply daydreaming. Char was singularly focused. Her aura glowed like the top of an erupting volcano. He was amazed that she wasn’t tearing the inside of the pod apart in her furor.

  The warriors had their eyes closed, most of them sleeping. Terry had taught them to sleep when they could because once they hit the ground, they never knew when they’d be able to rest.

  Terry had learned the trick during his time in the Marine Corps. He learned the lesson well because Terry could fall asleep anywhere at a moment’s notice and wake up thirty minutes later completely refreshed. Joseph was always amazed by the man’s glowing red eyes. He’d achieved near Forsaken-level strength and speed. With his training, he was better than the Forsaken.

  But not better than a dozen of them at one time. “We need to find him,” Joseph blurted without thinking. He was afraid of what his fellows would do to the Terry Henry Walton.

  “I couldn’t agree more,” Char replied, looking at the Forsaken through narrowed eyes, wondering what he’d been thinking about.

  ***

  Timmons and Sue held hands as the pod flew back and forth in the hopes that one of the Were folk would sense a Forsaken on the grounds below and that Akio or Joseph would be able to touch Terry’s mind, know that he was alive.

  From Louisville, they continued east to Frankfort and Lexington. They slowly crisscrossed the skies over the mostly abandoned cities and their growing suburbs. The world was starting to return. From dozens of people here and there to hundreds in the more fertile areas.

  The mountains of Kentucky fought off the majority of the heat and desert that had swallowed most of North America. From west of the Appalachians to the Rockies, the land was arid. What used to be Oklahoma and Kansas was nothing but parc
hed land.

  Timmons had run the pack through Arizona and New Mexico, almost killing them in the heat and dry, but they made it and were stronger because of it.

  They wouldn’t do it again, not because they couldn’t but because it sucked so badly.

  Kentucky wasn’t anything like that. It was green and growing. Water flowed in the rivers. Wildlife was extensive, and the people were almost as populous as what they found in Chicago or New York, even though they were spread farther apart.

  “Maybe we can retire here?” Sue quipped.

  “Retirement,” Timmons said slowly. “What a concept. I wonder if we’ll ever have anything like that, or if we’ll be running that power plant, working, fighting evil until the day we die.”

  Sue shrugged. “That’s a long ways off. I think we’ll like getting old, unless this was the first shot in a war among those from the Unknown World.”

  Timmons had to think about that. He couldn’t fathom being at war for the rest of his life. It would be like being condemned to Hell--fighting every day of their existence.

  The speaker in the pod came to life.

  “Attention all pods,” Char announced. “Forsaken spotted south of Louisville. We’re going in, triangular pattern. Special tac teams only converge on the target. He’s alone and we need information. Force personnel, small arms only. Secure the pods and wait for our return.”

  Sue and Timmons’s pod twisted mid-air and raced in a new direction. They sensed the Forsaken in the distance.

  “Now we’re getting somewhere,” Sue said through gritted teeth.

  ***

  “Joseph, when we load back up, I think you should be in a different pod. Jump in number three. We can cover more territory that way. It’s redundant having you and Akio on the same pod,” Char said conversationally.

  “Wow!” Joseph whispered. “You’ve raised me to Akio’s level. I don’t know what to say.”

  “Bullshit,” Char shot back. “You always have something to say.” She reached past Cory to punch the Forsaken in the chest, forcing herself to smile. The strain was taking its toll on her, creating wrinkles around her eyes. She tried to keep it light, but Terry’s abduction was tearing her apart.

  “How he in peace is wounded, not in war,” Joseph quoted. “I believe you’re a fan of Shakespeare?”

  “Be great in act, as you have been in thought,” Char replied before her face turned sour. The target Forsaken was not far. She looked at Akio across the pod, but his expression hadn’t changed.

  Joseph’s face went blank as he reached out. His fellow Forsaken knew they were coming and had started to run. The pod jerked as it flew to cut him off. The other two pods responded instantly.

  Their descent was rapid, and the ramp opened before they hit the ground. With Joseph and Akio, the Were folk bolted from the pod. From the two other pods, the rest of the pack hit the ground running.

  Some changed into Were form; others didn’t. Char never told them to change or not. The choice was theirs.

  Gene removed his clothes as he ran off the pod, throwing them to the side and leaping from the ramp. His Werebear paws dug into the dirt and he raced past Char, Cory, and Clovis. The pup always kept up. He’d been brought up running after Cory and accepted it as a normal way to travel.

  The warriors from the FDG filed off and took up positions fifty yards away in a circle around the pod as they defended their ride. They remained behind cover and watched impatiently, hoping for a quick resolution.

  Joseph and Akio split up, each going in a different direction as they tried to bracket their target. Aaron kept pace with Char and Cory, remaining in human form. He’d never been able to remember what he did as a Weretiger, and that bothered him.

  Aaron also considered himself to be Cory’s protector. He’d been there almost every single day of her life. He’d been close with Kaeden and Kimber, having watched over them on numerous occasions while the Force deployed.

  He’d been their teacher, taught them to read. He’d been their friend and to Kaeden, he’d been his savior, having pulled him from the water and the wreckage. Aaron felt the sting of the jagged cut he’d gotten during that effort. It quickly healed completely, but he could still feel it. After that, he’d changed into his Were form and didn’t remember a thing until he changed back.

  Aaron thought that both Kae and Kim liked him as a tiger. They said so, when he was in human form. He wished he’d remembered the fun they said they had together.

  He stayed close to Cory, ready to change to a Weretiger should she be threatened. The ever-vigilant Charumati was leading the way, determined to find her husband, and Aaron didn’t think she’d let anyone get past her.

  There was no doubt who was in charge. Even Akio was in a supporting role to the purple-eyed Werewolf.

  The Forsaken stopped running.

  “It knows we’re here,” Char told the others as she maintained her blistering pace. Gene loped ahead, not overexerting himself. He slavered as if a good meal waited. Usually he wasn’t a drooler, but even he wanted this over with and his body was anxious.

  They all hoped that this Forsaken would bring them one step closer to Terry Henry Walton.

  The middle-aged looking man was backed against a tree, staying in the shade. He was completely covered and looked uncomfortable. Akio and Joseph stood nearby. The three Were teams arrived at the same time. Sue and Timmons remained in the woods behind the Forsaken while Shonna, Merrit, and Ted stayed in the clearing. They made way for Char, Cory, Aaron, and Gene.

  Cordelia tried to walk alongside her mother, but Char put out an arm and forced her daughter to walk behind, bracketed by the Weretiger and the Werebear. Clovis growled and barked at the Forsaken.

  Nothing was as deadly as a cornered animal.

  “Where is he?” Char asked, dispensing with the usual verbal jousting that Forsaken seemed to prefer and that TH reveled in.

  “I’m sure I don’t know,” the Forsaken replied. Char looked to Akio. He nodded almost imperceptibly. Joseph held up a hand and approached.

  “Why would you say such a thing, when you know we can tell you’re lying?” Joseph asked, cocking his head so the other could see his face under the wide brim of his leather hat.

  “If you know it isn’t true, then it’s not a lie,” the Forsaken stated casually. He wore a sword and had a rifle slung over his shoulder, but his arms were crossed and his hands empty. He stood defiant but not aggressive.

  “Where are the other Forsaken? Where did they take Terry Henry Walton?” Char demanded.

  The Forsaken’s mind clamped shut, and Akio drew his sword.

  CHAPTER TWELVE

  Terry’s Prison

  “Tell me, TH, why do you insist on sacrificing yourself for the weak?” Kirkus pressed.

  “For the seventy-fourth time, it’s the right thing to do. None of my previous answers convinced you?” Terry replied, looking into the Forsaken’s eyes and seeing nothing except a dark cruelty. Terry was obligated to add a taunt. “You warthog-faced buffoon. You are dense as a post.”

  Kirkus didn’t acknowledge that he’d heard Terry speak.

  “Moral compass? Because of your moral compass. Let’s review, shall we,” Kirkus started in a low voice as he sought to make his point. “You return home to find your wife and daughter dead after a valiant battle. You killed the murderer, but then you went on to kill everyone else who was present. The images of their deaths, TH? Even I find those shocking.”

  It had been nearly fifty years since that happened, yet it had stamped darkness onto his soul. He knew that he’d be capable of that again if anyone put him in the same situation. His moral compass pointed true unless someone came after his family.

  He was ready to become Hell on Earth. All he needed was to be tipped over the edge. Kirkus laughed.

  “Payback? I am making amends for the last time I willingly left my family when I shouldn’t have to work for someone who saw me as a warm body and not a man with a family. This is my chan
ce to fix that.” Terry knew there was no reason to lie, so he embraced his honesty, something the Forsaken probably found uncomfortable.

  “I will share that they have come for you. They are fumbling around, flying in circles nowhere near here. We’ve tossed out a bit of bait to keep them distracted while we return to your little home. Kimber, Kaeden, and you have grandchildren, too! Can you imagine William and Mary Ellen playing in the hallways here?” Kirkus smiled, but it wasn’t of happiness or even forced to get a rise from TH. It was a smile of pure evil.

  “Because I can see it, Terry Henry,” Kirkus added.

  Terry froze, glaring at the creature that called itself Kirkus. He lived underground because daylight was death. Terry had been taken while it was still dark. He wondered who was going to North Chicago.

  Char would not have left the community unprotected. Kimber and Kaeden were no pushovers either, assuming they stayed behind. Kae still carried the knife that Terry had given a boy of nine. Kimber was a martial arts master. Cory was almost as good as her mother, almost as fast.

  And there was the FDG. His captain, lieutenant, and sergeants wouldn’t let anything happen to the civilians. They’d lay down their lives to protect them.

  It wasn’t just Terry’s moral compass that the Forsaken was questioning. It was all of theirs.

  Terry smiled. The Forsaken was challenging humanity’s right to exist as free and independent souls. They would refuse. All of them. Forsaken running rampant around the community? They’d have to fight them all. Everyone would swing a shovel or a chair, stab with a knife.

  Everyone was armed with at least a knife. Terry had encouraged it, made sure that the residents had something with which to defend themselves. He wanted to join the fight, take it to the Forsaken right there.

  Terry ground his teeth together, clenching so tightly that his jaw started to ache. He opened his mouth and took deep breaths, calming himself. The only way to help his family was to escape his chains, something he’d done emotionally, a long time ago, when he returned to mankind.