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

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Nomad Avenged: A Kurtherian Gambit Series (Terry Henry Walton Chronicles Book 7) Page 12

by Craig Martelle


  He slung his rifle over his shoulder as he left his post and walked toward the rapidly descending pod. He wondered why they were coming in so quickly, as well as a second pod, too.

  Somebody’s injured. They need help, he thought and started to run. He pulled up short when he saw within the pod. Men and Forsaken. He didn’t recognize them.

  “IT’S A TRAP!” he yelled as an Uzi burped and the bullets hit his vest and climbed upward, tearing into his neck and face. He flopped to the ground in a fountain of blood.

  Boris took a knee and with his first two shots, dropped the first two humans off the pod. The others ran free and scattered. He flipped his selector switch to a three-round burst and sprayed the running men. The Forsaken walked off last.

  Boris thumbed the magazine release and the magazine fell free. He slapped in the magazine with the silver bullets on top, pulled the charging handle, and sent an unfired round flying. He let the handle go to ram the first silver-tipped round into the chamber, and Boris took aim.

  The Forsaken stepped from the pod and looked right at the sergeant. Boris’s mind filled with overwhelming terror. He dropped his weapon, covered his ears, and ran.

  The Forsaken laughed. He looked at the other residents. Two of the minions were running toward the entrance to a building that overlooked the landing field. A young woman was trying to drag an old man inside while a young man and young woman looked on defiantly. A third young woman put her hand on the young man’s arm, joining him in glaring at the new arrivals.

  “That’s them!” the Forsaken yelled, pointing to the people at the entrance of the large brick building.

  Two of the minions broke into a full sprint, expecting their targets to run. They didn’t. Kaeden and Kimber stood their ground. As the two men vaulted up the steps, they were met by snap-kicks. They fell in unison. Kae throat-punched his and rolled him to the side. Kim kicked her opponent twice more until he stilled, then she stomped on his neck. The snap of a bone breaking echoed from the walls behind them.

  Kae and Kim descended to the sidewalk and assumed their fighting positions. They didn’t have firearms while the enemy did, but they heard the Forsaken’s call. The enemy had come for them, and they weren’t going to be taken.

  Kimber vowed never to be taken again, not alive anyway.

  A second pod approached rapidly, flaring to land. The rear deck dropped and friendly faces bellowed their war cries as they ran into Mayor’s Park.

  CHAPTER FIFTEEN

  Terry’s Prison

  Yanmei jumped back but quickly relaxed. Terry stared wide-eyed as the knob turned and the door slowly opened. Yanmei’s servant sheepishly entered and closed the door behind her.

  Terry’s first thought was about food and water, and she had brought nothing with her. He was disappointed, his hunger and thirst at the forefront of his mind.

  That made him feel bad, because he could see the look of fear on her face. She said something in Chinese. Yanmei answered softly, putting a comforting hand on the shorter woman’s shoulder. They hugged, and the servant found a seat in the corner, away from the withered body of the dead Forsaken, the one that Terry had killed without using his hands.

  Kirkus made sure that no one had taken the Forsaken’s body away. He considered it a reminder of what Terry Henry Walton was capable of. Yanmei ignored it, but her servant was uncomfortable and averted her eyes.

  “She will come too, of course, to a place where she’ll live free. We don’t have servants in North Chicago,” Terry said smoothly, trying to keep his voice free from judgment.

  “What if that’s what she wants to do?” Yanmei asked pointedly.

  “Then she’ll be free to do it. Let me revise my earlier statement. Everyone is free to find their own destiny. The only thing we require is that everyone works, everyone gives back to the community in some way,” Terry explained.

  “You are a communist, like those in old China?” Yanmei asked.

  “NO!” Terry blurted. He’d thought about that over the past thirty years, but hadn’t expected to deliver an answer.

  “I’m sorry. Communism is a political system. I would say that we probably have something more like socialism, or a free society that is heavily taxed. We used to contribute everything to a central pool, but now, it’s less than half. We have the dining hall and that is the main focus of it all. As long as people can eat regularly, then everything else becomes possible.”

  In his mind, Terry had looked through a mountain of history books regarding political and economic systems.

  None of it was exciting reading, but he found it all fascinating. He’d recognized a trend early in his studies.

  “Most systems have their merits, just until the leadership is corrupted. No, we don’t have elections, but the mayor consistently does what is in the best interest of the people. I guess I’m the self-appointed overseer. Have been ever since my first meeting with Billy Spires. I’ve done things that I will spend the rest of my life making up for. Kirkus called it a moral compass. I call it a conscience that will never be satisfied with my apologies.”

  Terry was opening up to Yanmei in his continuing efforts to gain her confidence. Kirkus only had the pain of failure to offer. Terry was talking about the power of freedom.

  And Terry was starting to like this captor, not because of Stockholm syndrome, but because of her simple act of calming her servant. She was providing a promised level of protection. She made her servant feel safe without being afraid to ask for that security. He also felt that she was as much Kirkus’s prisoner as he was.

  “Kirkus will fall, because his style of control cannot survive the new world. We won’t let it. I won’t allow it. Maybe that’s why I’m here. He lost eight of his minions to capture and one, almost two more attempting to restrain me.” Terry nodded toward the body on the floor. “He must have calculated that it was worth the cost. What does that tell you?”

  Yanmei shook her head.

  Another explosion shook the walls. This one was closer.

  ***

  Joseph laughed as dust filled the air. Gene roared his disapproval once again at the noise of the explosion.

  “I read your goddamned book!” Joseph yelled. He’d seen the trap and tossed a large rock to activate it.

  “Next time, fucknuts, give us a warning!” Char yelled, her ears still ringing from the power of the blast. They were almost at the end of Houchins Narrows, which led into the area known as the Rotunda, a massive open space rounded from eons past when water circled within.

  Char stayed behind Joseph as he walked from the tunnel into the Rotunda.

  Behind her, a man screamed while another started shooting. Mark yelled to cease fire.

  “What the fuck are you shooting at?” Mark yelled.

  “Something took Glen,” another replied. Char looked back. One of the privates was aiming his rifle at the tunnel wall. She hadn’t seen any side passages.

  The lighting was still on despite the explosions. Char expected they would lose that benefit of illumination when it was most inconvenient.

  “Flashlights!” she called. Some of the Force warriors started winding furiously. Others had taken the ride on the pod to charge their flashlights. A number of beams appeared, clearly outlined in the dust floating through the cave. They danced along the wall until they all converged on a single spot.

  “There’s a tunnel here,” Mark said loudly, motioning for the warrior aiming the rifle to join him. “Blood on the rock. Hang on. Cover me. Wait, you got silver bullets in that thing?”

  The man changed magazines, ejected the current round, and sent a new one home. Mark was not amused. “Get your head out of your ass, or you’re going to end up just like him,” Mark growled, pointing at the wall.

  The captain worked his way inside, then dragged a body out. Glen’s head had been bashed in. Mark cursed silently, then carefully propped Glen’s body against the wall, making it look like he was resting. He waved the warriors away from the narrow tunnel mo
uth.

  “Fire in the hole!” he said as he tossed a grenade inside, dove away, and slapped his hands over his ears. The explosion sent debris from the tunnel and created yet another dust cloud. Mark looked at the cave wall, waving his hand to clear the air.

  He gave Char the thumbs up. “Move it out,” he called.

  They’d pick up Glen’s body during the retrograde once the mission was complete. If they didn’t survive, then at least Glen was comfortable in his final resting place.

  No one contemplated anything differently. They always planned to win.

  Char tomahawked her hand in the direction of an outlet on the other side of the Rotunda. Joseph looked at the walls as he and Gene moved further into the open area.

  The sound of metal caressing metal alerted them. Gene and Joseph stood back to back as a thousand metal discs, sharp as razors, flew into the cavern.

  North Chicago

  Felicity and Marcie dragged Billy through the door. His eyes were wide with shock and his breathing ragged.

  The sound of gunfire filled the area in front of the mayor’s building. Kim and Kae were out there. Marcie was beside herself. Marcie and Kae’s kids were already in the mayor’s office hiding under the desk.

  “Come!” she yelled in their direction. They were too afraid to move.

  Billy started shaking as spasms wracked his body. His jaws clenched and pink foam bubbled from his mouth. He stiffened, jerked twice, and relaxed as a long sigh signaled his final breath.

  Felicity screamed in anguish. Marcie started to cry but forced herself to stand and run into the mayor’s office to grab her two children. She carried the youngest on her hip while holding the other’s hand.

  The children were terrified and panicking. Marcie wrestled with Mary Ellen and finally had to pick her up, too. Liam had his head buried against Marcie’s breast, his small body jerking as he sobbed uncontrollably.

  “Come on!” Marcie yelled at her mother through tear-filled eyes.

  Felicity looked up, nodded, and stood, still hanging onto Billy’s hand.

  “Leave him!” Marcie bumped her mother and headed for the stairs.

  With one last look, Felicity turned and ran after her daughter.

  ***

  The enemy’s Forsaken were projecting terror in every direction, sweeping the minds of the North Chicago residents. Most of the warriors from the Force were affected, although some were able to fight it off. Joseph had helped them to understand the mind control that some Forsaken were capable of.

  Those few warriors were fighting back while the rest of the Force were running. Kirkus’s human minions weren’t ready to fight professional soldiers, so it took no time at all to eliminate that threat. The survivors were either still running or cowering in a hole somewhere; their fear was real, not created by a Forsaken.

  Kim and Kae had received more training than anyone else, even members of the Force. It was the benefit of being Terry and Char’s children.

  The two stood side by side, ready to fight, as two Forsaken approached. The other two Vampires were left to deal with the four Werewolves that emerged from one of Akio’s pods.

  Timmons, Sue, Shonna, and Ted scowled as they approached. The two Forsaken laughed.

  “Were-fucking-wolves,” one said arrogantly.

  Timmons and Sue walked an arm’s length apart. They liked the Forsaken to be overconfident. On cue, they ran at the Forsaken closest to them.

  He flexed his knees and raised his fists as if preparing to wade into a boxing ring.

  Timmons attacked first with all the power he could muster. The Forsaken realized at that instant that he’d made a horrible mistake. The Werewolf’s blow drove the Forsaken’s own fist backward into his face hard enough to jar his front teeth loose.

  Sue spun as she arrived and kicked the Forsaken so hard in the groin that it shattered his pelvis. He went down in a heap. Timmons stopped on a dime, turned, and with his knife, slashed the creature’s throat, cut the skin and muscle around his neck, and twisted the head until it came free from the spine.

  Five seconds start to finish, alive and uninjured to headless.

  Three Forsaken remained.

  Ted and Shonna were engaged with the Forsaken that had intercepted them, but their fight wasn’t going as well.

  Ted was furiously trading blows, but the Forsaken was easily blocking them while dodging to keep Ted between him and Shonna.

  “Get out of my way!” Shonna barked. Ted was the least capable of all the Werewolves when it came to hand-to-hand combat. He hardly ever trained and whined the whole time whenever they made him attend.

  The others had improved to the point that they were more deadly in human form. Ted knew what he had to do. He jumped back and cleared the way for Shonna to engage. The Forsaken considered her a lesser opponent and stood up straight as if to fight her that way.

  She jabbed once before pounding his chin with a vicious uppercut. His head snapped backward. She followed with a kick to the groin and kneed his face as he went down.

  A Werewolf growled as it dove in and grabbed the Forsaken by the throat, rending and shaking. Shonna left Ted to it.

  She joined Timmons and Sue as they ran for the final two Forsaken.

  Kim and Kae had just engaged, but the Forsaken were physically faster and stronger. Only the young humans’ training gave them any hope. They weren’t able to find an opening, only block, and block, and block some more.

  They danced back and forth, their counterpunches easily repulsed.

  It dawned on Kaeden that none of the Forsaken were armed, although the humans from the pod were. He didn’t understand it and recognized it as meaningless in his current situation. He knew that the Forsaken wanted to capture him and Kimber alive.

  They wouldn’t have used weapons on the young adults regardless.

  That meant the Kim and Kae could take greater risks while fighting. Their lives were not on the line.

  Kimber fought like one possessed. She rained blow after blow toward the Forsaken, but he brushed them away as if annoyed by a fly. His attacks took all of her attention, and although she tried to counterpunch, the Forsaken was unimpressed. He wore her down and pressed in.

  Kae could do nothing to help her as he was fighting his own losing battle.

  He thought he could hear the wolf pack howling as they approached. There was rifle fire. There was screaming. Time slowed to a crawl. He heard the sound of a fist impacting flesh, but he couldn’t look to see who landed the punch, his sister or her enemy.

  Then all the sounds died away until the only thing he could hear was his own labored breathing and his pulse pounding in his ears. His vision narrowed until he could only see the Forsaken standing before him.

  Kae grunted as something rammed into his stomach, but his sight remained locked on the blackness of the Forsaken’s eyes. He saw the fist coming at him, and then all of a sudden, the Forsaken was gone. Kae dropped to his knees, closed his eyes, retched, and fell over.

  CHAPTER SIXTEEN

  Mammoth Cave

  Gene rolled around on the floor of the cavern, caking his wounds with a bloody mud pack.

  Joseph staggered a few steps and stopped, looking like he was going to pass out. Char rushed in, wary of the ledges around the Rotunda. Small discs lay everywhere, crunching metal on stone as she stepped on them.

  “I’m not sure that could have sucked more,” Joseph mumbled, using one of Terry’s favorite expressions. His leather clothes were shredded, and he was bleeding profusely.

  “Here,” Char said and took out her flask. He drank, but they both knew what he really needed if he was to heal quickly.

  “This will have to do, fucker. Deal with it.” Char ripped the flask from his hands. “I thought you could detect the traps?”

  She was angry and glaring at him.

  “He only had to get lucky once. I had to get lucky every time,” Joseph tried to explain, unable to meet Char’s intense, glowing-purple glare. “Can you feel it?


  Char stopped glaring and cocked her head. She’d been too distracted.

  “TH,” she whispered.

  “Caution, beautiful Werewolf!” Joseph said with a spurt of renewed vigor. “The closer we get, the slower we must go, the more we must spread out, and the more vulnerable we will be.”

  “Prophetic words, Joseph. Are you able to lead us down?” she asked.

  “No,” he replied as his eyes rolled back in his head and he started to fall.

  “DAMMIT!” Char bellowed, and the echoes were deafening. She caught Joseph and helped him to the ground. She laid him down with his head propped against a natural stone bench.

  Gene grumbled. His Werebear form had weathered the razor storm much better than Joseph’s leathers. He ambled forward. Char caught up with him and walked at his side as they headed out of the Rotunda and down Broadway.

  A voice from behind called to them.

  “Sorry it took so long to catch up, but you can’t be on point, my alpha,” Adams told her. He moved in front, working his way around the injured Werebear. Once Adams was in the lead, some distance from the others, he cautiously moved forward, stopping every few steps to sniff first and then highlight spots on the wall with his flashlight.

  “The closer we get, the slower we must go,” Adams said softly to himself. “Who would have thought that a Forsaken would guide us, wisely, in an effort to save our lives?”

  Char thought about the words. There was a secondary tunnel off the Rotunda. “Captain! Seal that tunnel,” Char ordered.

  “Aye, aye, ma’am,” Mark said, the sound loud within the echo chamber of the Rotunda.

  He looked at one of the privates and smiled. “Satchel charge,” he said, nodding and biting his lip. The private pulled it from his pack and handed it over.

  “Cover me, you and you.” He pointed to two members of the squad. They aimed their rifles down the unlit passageway. One fired two shots.

  “Cease fire!” Mark yelled. “What are you shooting at?”

  “I saw someone in there!” the private yelled back, never taking his eye from the rear sight of his M4 Carbine.

 

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