Nomad Supreme

by Craig Martelle

  Terry took another drink. He felt like he was rambling. “Simply put, they need to trust us, that we know what we’re doing, that we can protect them from any and all enemies. That’s our role here. We’re creating the conditions where humanity can thrive once again. I’m not going to invent a new power source, but one of them may.” Terry pointed at the people with a nod.

  Mark took the cue and started clapping. He turned away from Terry and the others followed as they cheered for the civilians, who were completely befuddled. Terry followed the group, clapping over his head. “Here’s to you, New Boulder!” he hollered.

  Char shook her head. The people looked mildly amused before going back to what they were doing. Terry clapped his people on the back. “Force de Guerre!” he yelled.

  They thrust fists into the air, screaming, “Force de Guerre!”

  Only one man dropped his rifle. All eyes were instantly on him.

  “Drop and give me infinity,” Terry ordered in a stone cold voice.

  ***

  Adams had lost his mate and almost lost his life to a Forsaken, but his alpha had come to his rescue. The Forsaken were dead and Xandrie was avenged. He was fully healed, physically, but still distraught. The hunting outside Sheridan had been fruitless, so he told his small team that they were heading back early. They hadn’t been gone long.

  To the others, it seemed like he was giving up.

  When they made it back to the camp, they were happy to smell beef on the barbecue. They would eat well tonight, even if they hadn’t killed it.

  Char pulled Adams aside. “What can I do to help?” she asked.

  “It doesn’t matter,” he muttered. He wouldn’t look at her.

  She lifted his chin, forcing his head up. He mildly resisted, until he gave in.

  “It matters and you matter. We need you with us, Adams, and we need you to make sure the cattle get to us. That group is going to experience a great deal of hardship. They are going to be on the road for months. The cattle aren’t going to want to walk day after day after day. The people are going to grow tired, lose focus, maybe even lose their way. I need someone I trust to carry them, and that person is you.”

  Adams curled a lip in disgust.

  Char grabbed him by the shoulders and shook him, catching his attention. “She’s gone, Adams! And that sucks. We can’t go back and tell her not to run herself into a corner. I wish we could, but we can’t!”

  Adams got angry and sad at the same time. He clenched his jaw as he didn’t know how to respond. Then he closed his eyes and took a deep breath.

  “You know, Xandrie always thought you’d make a better alpha. She was happy that you took Timmons down and stepped into the role you were always destined for. I wasn’t so sure,” Adams whispered, his eyes still closed.

  “But I am now. I will do what you require, my alpha. Shall I head back to them or wait here?” Adams resigned himself with the situation, but internally, he was relieved. He had a mission with responsibility, and he had the confidence of his alpha.

  It had been his job to watch over his mate, but he failed. Adams was being given a second chance, just like Timmons had gotten after his failed challenge. To prove himself, all he needed to do was get a bunch of humans and their cattle to Chicago.

  How hard could that be?

  ***

  Once the plant was generating electricity, their challenge was in sending electricity into the base, one circuit at a time. There had been some damage over the years, but most of the power lines appeared to be intact.

  One by one, Timmons threw switches to add circuits to the feed. One resulted in an immediate pop of the breaker. Timmons marked that one and moved on. Some drew more power than others, but the generator supplied enough electricity for most of it. Timmons understood that the small power plant was a backup system and that was why it had looked so new. It was relatively unused.

  Until the end days when they ran it, but then it was too late to make a difference.

  Timmons made mental notes as well as handwritten ones regarding the circuits. They had more research to do when the power was off. When Timmons returned, Ted was covered in dirt.

  The plant had been clean.

  “What happened to you?” Timmons wondered.

  “Exhaust vent was plugged. It’s fine now, but we have a little mess that needs swept up.” Ted looked at Timmons hopefully.

  “I’m not doing it and everyone else is busy!” he declared. “Let’s power her down. Things are looking good out there. Besides the vent, how’s she running?”

  Ted held his fingers up in the okay sign.

  They shut down the fuel pump and let the fire die. The steam quickly subsided, then the valve shutting began. They idled the plant and walked outside. It was early afternoon, far earlier than Timmons believed possible.

  Nothing like a successful test of a five megawatt power plant to raise one’s spirits.

  Timmons pulled everyone together after venting the last of the steam and finalizing the shutdown sequence. “It doesn’t get any better than that. We’ll check tomorrow how much fuel we used…”

  Ted interrupted. “By my calculations, some eighty-seven gallons.”

  Timmons blew out a breath. They needed power to make more power. He started thinking how to energize the pipeline pumps to deliver the remaining fuel, or they could move fuel from the railyard. The young folk had told him the big tank seemed full. Even if it was diesel, they could make that work.

  “We need the locomotive, Ted. Tomorrow, first thing, we start our search and we don’t come home without it,” Timmons declared as he smacked his fist into his hand.

  “What have I been telling you?” Ted said with a hearty head shake.

  “It’s like talking to a wall,” he groaned.

  The others started to laugh.

  “Liberty is sounded,” Timmons joked.

  “I don’t know what that is, but I found this behind a medicine cabinet in the barracks rooms,” James said, holding a small bottle of bourbon whiskey. Ted waved a hand dismissively.

  Timmons smiled.

  “Go ahead and enjoy it. Don’t go too far and don’t get near the water. I don’t need any drunk people to fall in and drown. I’ll never hear the end of it.” Timmons told them, waving that they could go.

  The four headed for the fire pit.

  “I think it’d be nice to take a sail, don’t you, Ted?”

  Ted brightened remarkably. “Why yes, I think that exactly.”

  ***

  “I’m taking Adams and the buggy to find the cattle and our people,” Char called after refueling it herself. Terry looked at her. It was getting late and what she proposed was a two-hundred-mile roundtrip. He waved at her to stop, but she turned away, yelling over her shoulder that he needed to watch Kaeden.

  Of course I’ll watch Kaeden, what kind of derelict parent do you think I am? he thought as he turned around, his eyes narrowing. Now where are you, little man?

  He figured if he could find the bear, he’d find the boy. But he couldn’t find the bear either. “Sergeant, where’s Corporal Blackbeard?” Terry asked.

  “The river, sir. Hank is fishing,” Mark said, sighing.

  Terry understood. He jogged toward the stream. It sounded like there was whitewater rapids were crashing downstream, but when he arrived, he found Hank splashing around like a puppy. Kae was on the beach, jumping up and down. Blackie was close by.

  Sue stood on the bank with Clyde. The dog shied away from water as every time he got in, someone washed him.

  Terry took a knee next to the dog and scratched behind Clyde’s ears. “How are we doing, Sue?” Terry asked.

  She looked down at him. “What do you want me to tell you?” she asked sharply.

  Terry was instantly angry. Char had just driven away. If she wanted to throw-down, so be it. He wasn’t afraid of her or any of them.

  “I want the truth,” he said, leaving it ambiguous. He stood and glared at her, jaw set.


  “I’ve never seen her happier or more driven, Terry Henry Walton. And you take that Marine glare of yours and shove it up your ass!” She jutted her lower chin out. Shonna and Merrit appeared out of nowhere.

  “What’s going on here?” Merrit asked, covered in grease and oil.

  “Dickweed can’t take a compliment,” Sue replied.

  “I can too take a compliment!” Terry insisted, balling his hands into fists.

  “Ah ha! So you are a dickweed!” Sue started to laugh. “I told you I’d get him. You each owe me one rabbit.”

  “Son of a bitch! How could you fall for that?” Shonna shook her head in disbelief.

  “How about fuck all you all, fuzzy-assed, tail-wagging, ball lickers?” Terry kicked dirt at them.

  “Name-calling, and two She-Wolves are ball lickers? I can’t wait to tell Char. She’s going to owe us,” Sue taunted.

  Terry closed his eyes and rubbed his temples. His head started to throb.

  “Fine. What’s it going to cost me for you not to tell Char?” The Werewolves high-fived each other.

  The game was afoot and Terry had been pummeled in the opening move.

  ***

  Ted and Timmons had sailed north. The wind allowed for a high speed tack so they ate the miles up quickly. Before they knew it, they weren’t far from Milwaukee.

  They pulled close to the shore where they could drop a couple lines in the water and fish. They were using lures they’d found in an old tackle box. They had no hope of catching anything but the fish had other ideas. When no one has fished in the entire lifetime of every fish in the lake, they hungered for anything thrown their way.

  So they bit, even though the lure wasn’t right for the season or the fish. Soon, they had the deck of the boat covered with largemouth bass and another type that they didn’t know, but hoped was equally tasty.

  Ted’s eyes unfocused as he sensed the world around. Something had wandered into the area, something beyond the small smattering of humans. Timmons pulled his latest fish in and triumphantly unhooked it, letting it drop into the pile already filling the bottom of the boat. He saw the look on Ted’s face and joined him searching using their senses.

  “Well now,” Timmons said. “That could change things.”

  Ted nodded, coiled his fishing line, and raised the sail. “Let’s get out of here before it spots us,” Ted suggested.

  “Too late, Ted. Head out into the lake until we lose him then we’ll turn south.” Timmons said as he grabbed a line.

  “We don’t need a Werebear following us.”

  CHAPTER TWENTY-FOUR

  Char drove faster than she would have if Terry had been watching. She’d already driven the road once and that was good enough to give her confidence that she wasn’t in any danger. They drove straight through without taking any breaks. She pushed the vehicle. They’d already tested it for a few hundred miles.

  It ran like a champ.

  They covered the ninety miles in an hour and forty-five minutes. They sensed the cattle and horses before they saw them, but there they were, ambling up the road. A small group of people walking with them, one cart in front and three behind, with Boris and his squad on horseback arrayed on both sides of the group.

  They parked the dune buggy out front, and Boris rode to meet them. He was surprised that the colonel wasn’t there, but it didn’t matter. He’d had his ass kicked too often by the major to question her authority.

  “Anything new?” she asked.

  “Same ol’,” he answered.

  “Adams is going to ride with you. He’s going to be in charge of this mob, responsible for getting you all the way to Chicago,” she said in a low voice, watching his reaction. He didn’t flinch. “You’ll be picking up some more people and cattle a little ways ahead, in old Sheridan. Continue north out of the city for a ways, then you’ll turn east. It’s all downhill from there. Adams knows the way.”

  “Sounds good, ma’am,” Boris replied and nodded to Adams. “Welcome aboard. This is some seriously boring shit, man.”

  Adams snickered. “Yeah. I’m good with that. Boring is good, exciting has a tendency to get people killed.”

  “Oh, fuck, I’m sorry, man,” Boris backpedaled, remembering that Adams had just lost his mate.

  “It’s all good, bro.”

  “That’s Corporal Bro,” Char, in her role as a major, corrected. “You are a warrant officer in this man’s army, effective immediately, Adams. Now, tighten up!”

  Adams looked at Char as he pulled his pack from the back. They shook hands and without further delay, she fired up the dune buggy and spun a U-turn, scaring the horse. She gunned it and raced away. Twilight was settling in and she wanted to get back. She drove at dangerous speeds, counting on her Werewolf reflexes to keep her on the straight and narrow.

  That worked for the first hour. After that, the headlights were weak and she slowed down, but was still driving past where she could see. When the old wreck of a car appeared out of nowhere, she started to swerve, but the high-tech tire caught and the dune buggy twisted and rolled, bouncing over the dead vehicle and continuing down the road before coming to a rest on its roof rack.

  Char dangled upside-down, still strapped into her seat.

  She groaned as she tried to unbuckle her harness. When it released, she fell, landing on her head. Char rolled over to look around. The engine was off and it was twilight, but she could see well enough to find her way out. She crawled through the passenger window, dusted herself off, and looked at the damage.

  Char gripped the cage of the dune buggy and with her inhuman strength, rolled it upright. She reached into it and tried to start the vehicle, but it wouldn’t turn over. As the adrenaline surge faded, she realized how sore she was.

  “Terry is going to be pissed,” she told the vehicle while rubbing her arms and rib cage. The pain was undeniable.

  She looked at the sky, then the road ahead. She had a long way to go to catch up with Terry, Kae, and the rest of the convoy. She started to unbutton her shirt to prepare to change into her Were form.

  But Char felt tired and needed to heal. She climbed into the passenger seat of the buggy and reclined the seat as far as it would go. It was only a few inches, but it was enough. She was soon fast asleep.

  ***

  They were almost out of sight of land when they could no longer sense the Werebear. Ted made a lazy arc south, then picked up the pace with a strong wind coming from the east. He tacked and the small boat picked up speed, bouncing and skimming across the wave tops.

  “You could probably clean those fish while you’re sitting there doing nothing,” Ted offered.

  Timmons carefully removed his clothes while remaining seated and stuffed them into a small space under the seat, probably a cooler for drinks. Then he changed into a Werewolf, where he struggled to stay balanced while feasting on the fish.

  “Leave some for everyone else!” Ted yelled from two feet away. Timmons snarled at him before gulping down one more of the bigger fish. He changed back and casually put his clothes back on.

  “Your turn, Punky Brewster,” Timmons said with a healthy belch. Ted looked around to see if someone had magically appeared in their boat. He never understood why Timmons made up names.

  “No, thank you. I think I’ll enjoy mine cooked over an open fire,” Ted replied.

  “You like the humans, don’t you?” Timmons asked.

  “We’ve always been with the humans. It’s our destiny,” Ted said softly. “I enjoy their company. I enjoy the company of the pack, too, but I prefer human form. I feel more comfortable this way.”

  Timmons nodded. He decided that he’d never understand Ted. Timmons enjoyed the power he had while in Were form, but conceded that both forms had their unique appeal.

  He would never turn his back on the Werewolf side of him. That defined him more than anything else.

  Timmons wondered if the humans had gotten drunk and were having sex. He was glad to not be there for that. Th
ey were young and inexperienced. He figured that they’d get better at it, especially since the partners got along well. Love, they called it. Over a hundred years and he’d had his share of flings, but never a real partner.

  He wondered about eternity. Was he meant to spend it alone?

  He pulled his knife and gutted the first fish, blinking through the tears that threatened to fall.

  Serve the alpha, serve the alpha… he chanted to himself.

  ***

  The darkness descended rapidly after the sun disappeared behind the Big Horn Mountains. Then it got later and later.

  The steer roast fed everyone, with some left over. Hank was treated to the parts that the humans wouldn’t eat. Clyde treated himself depending on who wasn’t paying attention as they sat with their plates in their laps.

  Everyone had carried their own plate and utensils from New Boulder, because there was no kitchen. Each person cleaned up based on where they were directed, downstream for cleaning, upstream for drinking.

  Terry was getting antsy and Kaeden knew something was wrong. They were walking around together, but Terry was distracted. He held the boy’s hand, but his mind was elsewhere.

  “You’re worried about Mom, aren’t you?” the boy asked. Terry’s breath caught as that was the first time Kae had referred to her like that.

  “You’re pretty astute, Kae. What do you think we should do?” he asked as he kneeled in front of the boy.

  “We go look for her,” he said simply, cocking his head as if wondering why Terry hadn’t already come to that conclusion.