“After introductions,” Valerie said.
The man smiled and extended a hand. “Name’s Terry Henry Walton. If you’re here for the Black Plague, then we’ve got no quarrel with you.”
She took the hand in a firm grip and smiled. “Valerie, and it’s a pleasure, TH.”
His eyes narrowed. “Let’s go with Terry for now.”
She nodded. “Thing is, Terry, we’re here for more than just them. And I’d love to hear how much you know about this Black Plague group, but first, I think I better tell you everything.”
He nodded, motioning toward the outpost. “Inside, in case anyone’s watching.”
“Watching?” Sandra asked as they started walking.
Valerie gave the two a look that said, proceed with caution.
“We like to think we have this place under lockdown,” TH said as he led the way. They walked past shrubs and around the bend of the outer perimeter of the city, where they saw a small outpost ahead. “But with the rumors of the Black Plague—”
“How much do you know of them?” Valerie asked and, judging by the look he gave her, he wasn’t accustomed to being interrupted.
“Not much. We just heard about them ourselves.” He reached the outpost and held the door open for the rest, following behind a moment later.
It was dark in there, except for the light from glassless windows.
“First, I want to know what a Vampire is doing walking around in the daylight,” he said. “Second, whether you know where Akio is now.”
“You assume he gave me the power?”
Terry nodded curtly.
“I can tell you where he is, but it wasn’t him. He went to Europe, in pursuit of Michael.”
“No…” Char said, stepping forward and staring into Valerie’s eyes as if that would tell her if this was the truth. “So Michael has returned?”
“He has. And Akio and Yuko just missed him. He was going off to France, to deal with some, er, unsavory characters.”
Char and TH shared a look of excitement. TH took a big breath, then looked at her with a new level of respect.
“We don’t get many visitors here,” he said. “Nor welcome them. But if what you say is true, if you actually knew Akio and mean to go after the Black Plague, you can stay as long as you need.”
Char put a hand on his arm. “She did say they came for another reason.”
“That’s right, you did.” He furrowed his brow and stood, waiting.
Valerie leaned back against a wooden beam, arms crossed, and said, “Better get comfortable. This could take a while.” She went into the full story, about coming across the ocean and finding out about the fact that people were hunting Vampires for their blood, how she had realized the problem came from the top. That to stop it, she’d had to cut off the beast’s head, leaving Old New York in a state of flux.
“A bit too trusting, I think,” Char said. “You tell everyone you meet on the road your life story, you might want to watch out.”
“People have certainly criticized me for being too trusting in the past,” Valerie said. “Thing is, I figure it’s better to trust and have people at your side, than to not trust and stand all alone. Plus, if anyone ever betrays me, I can remove their head from their body easily enough.”
“Is that a threat?”
“It wasn’t directed at anyone here.” Valerie unfolded her arms and held her hands out, so she could show she meant no aggression. “More a statement of fact. There aren’t many that could survive once I’ve decided they shouldn’t.”
“I believe her.” Terry Henry Walton leaned back, hand on his pistol, assessing them through narrowed eyes. Finally, he raised an eyebrow and said, “Okay, here it is. We don’t interfere with people if they come to us and say they want to be part of our society. These CEOs you speak of, we don’t know if they’re here or not, but do know that one man arrived recently with a pretty big posse. The type you watch out for, because they look like some mean motherfuckers, and because a group that size can always be trouble.”
“If he’s here, he is trouble.”
Terry held up a hand. “If he is what you say, if he’s done what you say he’s done, I’d have to agree. So here’s what we’ll do. Extraction. You go in, you get him out, then you deal with him as you see fit. But you cause a scene, you make trouble in Chicago, then we’ve got ourselves a problem, you and me.”
She didn’t know this guy, but she sensed something different about him. He didn’t have the Were or vampire scent, but…there was something. That, plus the look in his eye, was enough to decide she’d trust him about this.
“You have yourself a deal,” she said.
“Oh, and Sergeant Garcia is going with you,” Terry said, pointing to a man leaning against a wall, He looked one hundred percent military from his uniform, to the short hair, to the weapons he carried. The kind of man Valerie associated with Commander Strake and the Enforcers, she thought, instantly distrusting him.
“I work best with my team, no one else.” Valerie stood tall now, staring him down.
“This is our city. Would you let outsiders enter your city fully armed without an escort?” He assessed her, then shook his head. “I didn’t think so. It’s set then.”
“Deal,” she said, shaking his hand.
Terry ran a hand through his hair and raised an eyebrow. “You’ve got a big mission ahead of you. Best get to it.”
***
Joseph awoke, exhausted and strapped to a gurney. He felt empty inside. He rolled his head back and forth, looking around to get his bearing. Petricia was on the gurney next to him. A needle was in her arm and a tube led to a bag on a hook below her.
He forced himself to look down. A needle was in his arm, too. Four other Forsaken were secured in the small room.
How long had he been here? How long had he been out? The day Andrew died, Joseph carried his injured bride into the city and made his way deep underground to a place that only the Forsaken knew.
He nursed Petricia back to health, enough where she could sleep soundly with him. Disappear into the night of the long sleep. The next thing he knew, he was here.
Wherever here was.
A young woman wearing hospital scrubs entered. She went from victim to victim, checking their bags. Each had an IV on one side and a tapped vein on the other. Joseph looked back at his own arms. He’d missed the IV on the first pass. He wondered how something so obvious could escape him.
He wasn’t sure what he was looking at. His own arms seemed to be a long ways away. His feet an interminable distance. Joseph’s head swam with his movements.
When the orderly reached him, he asked her, “Can I get some water, please?”
She jumped. “Damn!” she exclaimed. “You startled me. There’s your water right there, mister.”
She pointed at the IV.
“My stomach is churning and I feel like I’m going to pass out. How much blood have you taken?”
“On our way to all of it. We have a big delivery to make. With you six, our fortunes are made and we’ll be done with this nasty business.”
“I’ll say. What value is there in my blood?”
“Prolongs life. Heals injuries. And your blood is especially potent.”
“You give humans my blood?”
She laughed. “No. We don’t give anything away. They pay a great deal for your blood. A great deal.” She checked his bag and continued to Petricia before leaving the room.
Joseph checked his bindings He wasn’t sure he had enough strength to break free. He’d never felt so weak in all his life.
He breathed deeply in and out, forcing himself to hyperventilate as he tried to build the energy for one great burst of energy. He yanked his right arm and the bar bent toward him. He was exhausted and wanted to sleep, but every drip made him weaker. He opened his mouth and screamed silently.
Joseph yanked a second time and then a third. His arm hurt from jerking the needle around. His efforts lessened, but he was
close. “For you, Petricia,” he said softly. He jerked and the bed’s pipe frame pulled free.
He undid his bindings, leaving the IV in but pulling the blood needle out. He pinched his arm to stop the bleeding, but his nanocytes had been drained dangerously low. He needed time to heal.
And people called him the Vampire.
He wrapped the IV line around his neck and wedged the bag into his collar. He stood weakly, almost falling over. He leaned forward and let himself fall toward Petricia’s bed. He freed her before pulling the needle from her arm. He pressed a bandage against it, wishing it to hurry up and heal.
He wished that she would awaken.
She didn’t.
He pulled her toward him until she was in a sitting position. He laid her over his shoulder and pulled her from the bed.
“Oh, God!” he cried through the strain. He staggered and sent his bed careening into the one next to it. He blinked to clear his vision. The woman entered again. She had someone with her.
The muscle.
The burly young man bared his teeth as he brandished his arc rod, ready to beat the weak Forsaken into submission. Joseph leaned against the bed and reached out with his mind. Since the man was already fired up, Joseph built those thoughts into an uncontrolled rage until the man screamed, holding his head.
He staggered two steps and fell. Joseph stumbled past him, stopping at the nurse. “Who is more evil, madam—the one who takes, or the one who takes back?”
She didn’t answer. He pinned her to the wall as his fangs grew. He dove in and bit deeply, draining her of her blood. He let her carcass fall to the ground. His mind cleared and he felt the strength that fresh blood gave him. He looked at the man on the floor, but no, he wouldn’t taint Petricia.
She’d never tasted human blood. She was pure. He stepped back to his table and took the bag of his own blood. He bit into it and drained it. He took Petricia’s blood bag, tied it off, and stuffed it into his pocket to keep it warm.
As he walked past the man writhing on the floor, he kicked him in the face.
Joseph stuck to the shadows as he headed out. Something was happening. It seemed that a full-on war was being waged. The Forsaken wondered how long he’d been out. His body seemed a husk of its former self. Petricia was emaciated, her heartbeat weak.
He left the building, his dearest love over his shoulder. He ran, but people were everywhere.
Or so it seemed.
His head started to spin. How weak was he that draining a human had barely given him enough energy to walk a couple hundred yards? He found a closet in which to hide, unsure of what was happening around him. Forsaken, Vampires, and Were.
A battle for supremacy within the Unknown World was underway, and Joseph could only watch.
***
“What do you say we follow, at a discreet distance, you know, just in case?” Terry asked Char.
“Sounds like a plan, lover.” Kim and Auburn had already taken a squad to the east to scout a group there. Terry figured speed would be their greatest asset.
“Corporal, watch the house for us. We’ll be back in a jif.” Terry and Char disappeared into the growing dusk.
They stayed far to the side of the track that Valerie and her team had taken. They jogged casually to keep pace. “A day-walking Vampire walks up on us like it’s nothing? And Vampires from Europe attacking New York City? What in the holy jump the fuck up and down is that all about? It’s like I was asleep at the wheel for a hundred and fifty years.”
“You weren’t. Unknown World. They are really, really good at staying hidden, just until they decide that they don’t need to. And it seems that is the point we’ve reached. Maybe you taught them to keep their heads down that much longer. Wait…” Char held her head as she drifted off the road and stopped to lean against a tree.
“The firepower, mental, etheric, so much energy being thrown around. And shit! Follow me. Hurry!” Char bolted from her spot and accelerated into a full sprint. She tore through a small checkpoint manned by a mix of humans and Weres.
She and Terry never slowed down as they raced through. “Not a threat!” Terry yelled, holding a hand up with the peace sign as he kept pace with Char.
“What?” he yelled after her.
“Joseph,” she called over her shoulder. Terry redoubled his efforts and pulled his pistol. He didn’t know if there was a threat to his friend or not, but with Char’s hair on fire, he figured it wasn’t good.
She jumped through a broken window of a derelict building and ran through the front, into the darkened recesses. “Joseph!” she called.
“In here,” came the weak reply. Terry was there when Char opened the door.
“Holy fuck, you look like shit,” Terry said without thinking. He saw the bag hanging around Joseph’s neck. “Oh no. How long have they had you?”
Terry and Char helped the two up. Char took Petricia from Joseph, grimacing at how light the full-grown woman was.
“Since the day Andrew died, I think,” Joseph said, collapsing into Terry’s arms.
Terry picked the man up, tears filling his eyes. “They had them for sixteen years, Char! The bloodsuckers had him all this time, and we thought he’d just run away.”
“Not your fault, TH. We have them now, and that is the one thing that we really are in control of in this crazy world spinning out of control. Now, let’s get the hell out of here.”
Terry and Char started running, using a measured pace to limit the jarring of their friends.
When they made it back to the camp, they immediately boarded the pod. “Corporal. We’ll send a pod back for you. Report in when Garcia makes it back.”
The corporal had no idea who the colonel and the major had carried on board. It wasn’t his place to ask.
San Francisco
Joseph and Petricia lay in Terry and Char’s bed. Cory had tried to help, but there was nothing she could do. Their nanocyte-laden blood had been depleted. They needed the nanos to replicate, and that took time and lots of food.
“Anything they want,” Terry said, holding his friend’s hand while he and Petricia slept. The kids—Kim, Auburn, Kae, Marcie, Ramses, and Cory—made daily runs to the market for fresh meat, both beef and seafood. Felicity sent stocks from the daily dirigible arrivals.
The pack stopped by, even Ted, to sit and talk in Joseph’s presence.
When Petricia finally awoke, she ate ravenously while Joseph held her.
They told stories in between eating and drinking. And they slept. Terry and Char rarely left their side. Auburn brought in a tailor who worked with leather. They had dark green leather outfits made for the Forsaken. Whenever they could go back outside, they’d be able to.
Terry had special wide-brimmed hats made in the style of Marine Drill Instructors. These were dark brown, which set off nicely against the dark green leather.
“This is too much. I like my black stuff,” Joseph said, looking at himself in the mirror.
“I think you look right handsome, dashing even,” Petricia offered.
“In that case, I accept your generosity.” Joseph bowed. As he stood, his smile disappeared. “To me, Andrew just died. To the rest of the world, it’s been sixteen years. A lifetime to many. A drop in the bucket to those like us. Forgive me if I mourn. It isn’t you and everything you’ve done for me, for us.”
“Kimber and Auburn searched for years. They dug through every basement in all of Chicago, but they never found you. We never lost hope, my friends. Never.”
“I wish I could elucidate the happenings of the time between then and now, but alas, I cannot.”
“It doesn’t matter, my friend. Big barbecue tonight. Everyone who is anyone will be coming,” Terry said.
“You mean the pack and our family,” Joseph replied.
“You got me. Gene is in the Crimea. I talked with him and he’s happy that you’ve been found, but he couldn’t come. He’s busy being somebody. Aaron and Yanmei are back. We lost Butch and Skippy to the Va
mpire hunters, the Black Plague fucks, but there are people hunting them all over the world, like that Valerie character. I think we haven’t seen the last of her.”
“So many changes, TH,” Joseph lamented, holding tightly to Petricia’s hand.
***
They had a fire pit in Terry and Char’s front yard. Auburn had acquired a side of beef and was turning it slowly on a spit. A large section was beyond the fire. It would be warmed, but not even cooked enough to be considered rare.
Just like Char and the others liked it. Joseph preferred his cooked to a nice medium rare. Auburn would deliver. No one knew beef like he did.
Sue and Timmons strolled around, shaking hands and making jokes. Terry wondered what was up, but they weren’t forthcoming. Not until Shonna and Merrit arrived. And then they pulled a dusty old bottle and handed it over. The label was peeled and mostly faded away, but the bottle felt familiar.
He angled the label toward the fire.
“It isn’t!” He grabbed the cap.
“That’s not a twist-off…” Timmons started to say.
Terry effortlessly ripped the cap off with his bare hand. He took a slow swig. He winced a little, then smiled slowly. “Guinness,” he said.
He moved away from the fire, found a seat, and cradled the bottle. He sipped it slowly, holding the one hundred and fifty-year-old beer in his mouth as he savored it. “The last good beer on Earth. I have so far to go,” he said, more to himself than anyone present.
“I think he’s in love, Mom,” Cory said. Ramses draped an arm over her shoulder as the children lined up to watch their father deteriorate into the ecstasy of gluttony
“Where’d you get it?” Kim asked.
“Right here in San Francisco. Excavating for a new power plant. Found it in the rubble just as you see it. Intact and meant for that man. It’s like it was a gift from God.”
The comm device in Terry’s pocket buzzed. He looked annoyed as he pulled it out, holding the bottle carefully in his other hand.
“Akio-sama, what can I do you for?” Terry said, taking another sip from his Guinness.
“Michael, Terry-san. Michael has returned. I am on my way to Europe right now, to where he was last spotted.”
Nomad's Galaxy: A Kurtherian Gambit Series (Terry Henry Walton Chronicles Book 10) Page 26