Nomad Unleashed

by Craig Martelle

  Hank was right behind him.

  CHAPTER TWENTY-THREE

  They kept going north, the same routine day after day. Up in the morning, run thirty minutes, walk thirty minutes. They took a break any time they crossed a stream to refill flasks and water the horses. Then they continued. The wolf pack kept pace, seemingly without effort. They were always present, originally staying a hundred yards away but they were down to twenty yards now and stayed downwind of the horses.

  Maybe it was their natural tendency or maybe it was Ted trying to keep the peace. No one asked. Timmons finally said that he wasn’t in pain anymore, but reported that often he could feel his fingers in the hand that was no longer there.

  No one knew what to say to that.

  Ted slept in the middle of the wolf pack each night, which meant that he didn’t stand guard duty because no one wanted to be the one to wake him up. Terry decided that Ted and the pack would stand the first watch.

  When they tried it, Ted walked the perimeter and encouraged the wolves to do the same. It made no sense to them since they could sense anything nearby, especially when they stayed downwind. Ted could, too, more so than the wolves. It made him question the need for the roving patrol.

  Such a human concept. So Ted brought the pack in close while everyone slept and they made themselves at home. Ted never bothered to wake anyone up since the wolves were sleeping in between and around the people. No one or nothing was going to surprise them.

  When Terry woke up before the dawn with a mouthful of wolf fur, he was furious. He looked at the mass of people and fur, saw that no one was on watch and exploded. The wolf pack bolted into some nearby trees and Ted ran after them. Everyone stood up. No one was happy.

  “Who’s supposed to be on watch?” Terry demanded, looking from face to face.

  “Nobody woke me,” James said.

  “Or me,” Lacy added.

  “TED!” Terry yelled, ready to storm after his wayward nuclear engineer. Char put a hand on his arm and held him back.

  “Why?” she asked.

  “Because we always stand watch,” Terry insisted.

  “The wolf pack was there. Nothing would sneak up on us. Nothing attacks a wolf pack. Let Ted take the watch and make sure we’re watched. And finally, we’ll all get a good night’s sleep, assuming you didn’t permanently scare the pack away.” Char stood with her hands on her hips and glared at Terry.

  “Stop thinking like a human,” she told him.

  “I’ve completely lost control,” he replied.

  “You can’t lose something you never had, lover.” Char smiled.

  ***

  It was something different every single day. Everything was broken and everything needed to be fixed at the same time, but by the end of the day, it was running well enough to get it to the next day. Then they split their shifts, working eighteen hours each and making sure that they overlapped so someone was always there.

  They covered for the mechanic and then some.

  The engineer was crushed at the loss of his friend. He saw his own mortality starting at him, but he grimly soldiered on. No one talked with him, but they found excuses to stay close. Their presence seemed to give him comfort.

  And there was an endless amount of work to do. The engineer was deadly serious that the next time the plant shut down, it wouldn’t start back up.

  They needed more and more steel sheeting, which they cannibalized from buildings and roofs throughout the area, to include the walls of the plant itself. They used the sheeting to wrap pipes, then welded them or strapped them to help contain the steam or water. When they cleaned the worst of the scale, they’d found that the pipe walls had deteriorated to the point of being compromised.

  It was a constant race to fix new leaks while trying to keep up with standard preventative maintenance.

  Merrit started chalking days on the generator as a countdown until the alpha returned with news of a new home.

  So they could pack their shit and leave. Merrit and Shonna were ready to go.

  Then there was another leak and they’d race into the fray to save the day.

  ***

  “I think we’re almost to Casper,” Terry said.

  “What makes you say that?” Char asked.

  “Because that sign says Casper, twenty-five miles.” Terry pointed to a green square of heavy sheet metal that had fallen and was faded, but still legible.

  “Your whole plan was to follow the Interstates?” Char wondered.

  “Yes. I-25 to I-94 and then follow the Missouri River. I’m still thinking about how to get across Iowa or Minnesota, but I think the northern route is probably better. We’ll know when we get close. Iowa used to be so green. I can’t imagine it as a wasteland.” Terry looked into the distance. Strange looking clouds were forming.

  “Oh no,” Terry said. Char squinted into the distance and sniffed the air. She reached out with her Werewolf senses. Ted and Timmons were sniffing, too. The wolf pack was already running.

  “We need to find shelter, right now,” Char insisted. As one, they kicked their horses into a gallop, running after the wolves. Timmons was hard pressed trying to hang on with one hand, but he wrapped the reins around his stump and held on the best he could with his other hand. Char had shown mercy by cutting off his left hand, leaving his dominant hand intact.

  Gerry swung wide to get a better look at the terrain to make sure they were taking the best route. He was by far the best horseman of the group, so he was able to get more from his animal than any of the others. He surged ahead, closing on the wolves.

  He spotted what they were running toward and waved everyone toward him. He went left into a cut while the wolves went over a steep embankment. The others followed Geronimo downward, turning sharply when they hit the bottom and fleeing along a dry riverbed toward a low bridge under which they could hide.

  The wolves had gone straight, but Ted whistled at them and they made a wide turn.

  The clouds approached, clouds of dust, blown before gale force winds. Terry had seen it before in the Syrian Desert.

  But even that was nothing like this. Of biblical proportions it descended. The horses and wolves arrived at the same time, sliding to a stop and huddling behind one of the bridge’s abutments. The riders dismounted and pulled the horses’ heads as close to together as they could get. They pranced as wolves squeezed in beside them.

  The storm tore down the riverbed like a tidal wave.

  ***

  The third day in the hills with Hank, Blackie was getting hungry. He’d gone without because the grizzly cub didn’t share anything he caught.

  “Maybe I’m the one who’s not prepared,” Blackbeard told his hairy friend. He threw the chain away that he’d been carrying and headed down the hill, turning and waving one last time to the cub.

  “You will be all right, won’t you, buddy?” Blackie wiped at the tears running down his face. The bear was his best friend and he had to leave him behind, for his own good and for the good of the townsfolk.

  He stumbled as his vision blurred, but he kept going. He was tired and hungry. Blackie made it halfway before he had to sit and cry like a man. He bawled until he had no tears left.

  Hank’s cold nose broke him from his reverie. The bear’s big brown eyes looked at him. The cub seemed to shrug then continued walking downhill. Blackie set out after him.

  “Where are you going, buddy?” he asked. The bear took no notice.

  They walked back into town, took a right and headed straight to the barracks, where Hank entered his enclosure without any prompting. He found the water tub and drank what was left. He sauntered to a corner in the shade and promptly curled up to sleep.

  Blackie closed the gate behind him as he joined Hank. Using the bear as a pillow, he was soon asleep.

  Mark had seen them return, angry that Blackie had been gone for so long without any word as to where he was going. He strolled outside to give Blackie a piece of his mind, but when he saw the two s
ound asleep after being back for less than five minutes, he understood that they’d gone on a journey to discover whether Hank could make the trip.

  Mark suspected they’d have a bear cub walking with them through the wilderness. A bear cub and that rambunctious beast, Clyde.

  ***

  “Words can’t express how much that sucked,” Terry noted as they dug themselves out from behind the abutment. The wolves shook and shook to get the dirt from their fur. The horses had mud caked around their eyes and were covered in reddish dirt.

  The others agreed as they started to mount up. Gerry stopped them.

  “We have to brush the horses. They can’t go like this! They’ll get too hot. Start brushing,” he ordered. They only had a few brushes, so they made do by using their hands.

  Timmons was hard-pressed, so Gerry handed him his brush, a contraption of metal bands with small teeth on one side, held together by a handle.

  Once they finished the rudimentary grooming, they led the horses away from the abutment, kicking up clouds of red dust as they moved. “It’s like walking on Mars,” Timmons suggested. The wolf pack trotted away as Ted hummed to himself. They left a trail through the dust that even a small child could follow.

  “Where are they going, Ted?” Char asked.

  “To look for water, food,” he replied, keeping his attention on grooming his animal. The horses seemed happy to get the attention and have the pack gone. They stood calmly as they were thoroughly brushed and cleaned.

  Terry wasn’t happy that it took an hour, but there was nothing they could do. In the end, they lost almost an entire day of travel because of the storm.

  “How can we make sure that three-hundred fifty people survive a storm like that?” Terry asked the group.

  “Stay closer to the mountains,” Timmons offered.

  “Scouts,” James added.

  “What do you mean, Corporal?” Terry asked.

  “I think you referred to it as a picket. They identify places to shelter while staying a quarter mile in front of the group, breaking the trail. They’d ride horses to stay mobile. We watch for the storms and at the first sign, we take shelter, never more than a quarter of a mile away. That gives our people two minutes? Is that enough time?” James asked.

  “If we actively watch, we might get ten minutes. We let that last storm creep up on us. Ten minutes, even the slowest of our people can cover a half mile, because life or death will be great for encouragement. Closer to the mountains, shelter selected every half-mile.”

  “We don’t move at all,” Lacy suggested.

  “And that’s a question that we will all wrestle with when we get back. We may find nothing out there.” Terry swept his hand along the landscape. “We may find something, but the power plant…”

  “The power plant is on its last leg, I know,” Lacy agreed.

  “More room and better grazing for the animals. We can’t stay,” Gerry said tentatively.

  “That’s what makes it so hard. We can’t stay and there may be nowhere we can go. Who knows, we may have to retreat further into the mountains, stay above the heat. It seems like that’s where the wildlife has gone. Hunting is good up high, but the bears are getting bigger and bigger. The elk are getting bigger, too, so you get some good with the bad.” Terry didn’t want to move into the mountains.

  There was no infrastructure. It would set them back to being little more than cavemen.

  Char looked over the landscape. The wolves’ trail seemed to lead into an endless desert. She was uncomfortable and wasn’t sure why.

  “A fool’s quest,” she said in a low voice as if talking to herself.

  “It’s hard not to take that personally,” Terry answered, smiling. He was the biggest fan of his own ideas, but this move sounded crazy, even to him.

  “Not you, TH. The survival of the human race. If planet earth is doing stuff like this now? It’s hard not to feel doomed. Who says that we deserve to survive?” Char pondered, continuing to look into the distance for any sign of life.

  “I had a long time by myself to think about that very question,” Terry started. The others moved in closer so they could hear.

  “We’ll carve our niche out of this world until we’re back on top, because humanity will not be denied. We were punched in the mouth and Mother Nature continues to hit us. She let us think we could come back quickly, but she’s still angry. We have to get through this, get through the planet’s climate change. And there’s no doubt, climate change is man-made. Tossing nukes around isn’t the best way to live in harmony with your home.”

  Timmons squinted as he watched Terry. He agreed with the colonel’s reasoning.

  “More will die, but then we’ll gain our foothold from which to prosper,” Timmons philosophized.

  “That is the goal,” Terry agreed.

  The wolves’ trail took a sharp turn and headed northwest. The group followed without question.

  CHAPTER TWENTY-FOUR

  “Isn’t it supposed to start cooling off by now?” Felicity wondered. They were on the floor arranging wood blocks for the baby. She could barely sit up on her own, but she giggled when the blocks fell over.

  “It should, but it’s not. It’s hot now and there’s no end in sight. We’re screwed. And my car isn’t running right. We might be walking from the word go. I really wanted to drive out of town.” Billy scowled, seeing only misfortune and trials in his future.

  “Why don’t you go down there and fix the car? I’ll take care of Marcie,” Felicity offered.

  “Because I don’t know how to fix it. I learned some things, but the mechanic’s gone. Ted’s gone, too. He would have known what was wrong.” Billy stacked the blocks and tipped them again so they’d fall and roll across the floor.

  “Those two, Merrit and Shonna, seem pretty sharp. They might be able to help. Ask for help, Billy. It’s okay. Ask Sue to ask them. Whatever it takes. When we leave this place, we’re leaving for good. There’s no reason to say we can’t leave in style on our own terms and not like Clyde with his tail tucked between his legs,” Felicity drawled soothingly.

  “He got my sandwich yesterday,” Billy said, looking at his wife. She’d made four sandwiches and put the first one on the edge of the table. Clyde snagged it and disappeared under the table, allowing the other three to eat in peace. Billy didn’t want Felicity feeding the dog, so she had to be creative.

  “I’m sorry, Billy dear. That was my fault. I really have to be more careful,” She stroked his face. “Ask Sue to ask her friends to help you.”

  He nodded. “In style, on our own terms…”

  ***

  They caught up with the wolves by nightfall, but couldn’t stop. There was nowhere free from the dust. The landscape was grim. They didn’t see a place to get water, make a camp, or find game. They hoped the small mountain range that the wolf pack seemed to be heading straight toward would provide a respite from the dust and desolation.

  “When is the point of no return?” Char whispered.

  “Already passed,” Terry replied, whispering too. “That storm looked like a wall with us in the middle. I suspect it hit as far south as it did north. We can’t get back like this. We need water and soon, otherwise we can’t go forward either.”

  Terry looked at his people. The Werewolves would be able to struggle onward, but James, Lacy, Gerry, and the horses would not.

  Ted climbed off his horse and took off his clothes. He folded them neatly and tied them to his saddle. The next moment, he was his shaggy gray self and running ahead.

  “It would have been nice if he told us what he was doing,” Terry said to no one.

  “Remember that control thing you seem so fond of?” Char asked, purple eyes sparkling.

  “I have none?” he replied.

  “Exactly. I suspect the pack needed help that only their alpha could provide.” They squinted into the darkness ahead, looking for any sign of Ted or the pack. The trail in the dust was unerringly straight.

&n
bsp; Terry let out a heavy breath. The horses ambled forward, following the wolf pack into the unknown.

  ***

  “Again!” Mark yelled. He thought the platoon was getting soft. They started taking their AK-47s apart, quickly, and laying the pieces in order on the cloth before them.

  “This will be the hardest thing you’ve ever done!” he said, talking loudly to kill the time as they worked on their weapons. “We are going to take everyone from here and walk two thousand miles. Mrs. Grimes? She’s walking the whole way, at her speed. So you are going to have to break the trail, hunt, get water, set up camp, cook, clean, and generally do everything that needs doing. The rest of the good people from New Boulder are going to use all their energy to just walk. You need to do more. Their lives depend on it.”

  Once the rifles were apart, he called for their reassembly and started to count down from forty.

  Jim was the first one finished. Mark pointed at him and winked. Jim was filling the role of squad leader. Blackbeard had another squad and they moved Boris temporarily into James’s position.

  Every squad needed a leader. This was a military organization and anything they participated in would be a military operation. They’d use the five-paragraph order to ensure they understood the situation and had tactical objectives.

  Discipline. Loyalty. Integrity. The words that the colonel and the major used often when talking with the FDG. They made sense because the two leaders of the Force modeled them always. Leaders eat last, was one of Terry Henry Walton’s favorite sayings, but it meant so much more than just who ate when.

  Everyone was responsible for the people in their charge, to train them, help them improve, and take care of them.

  “Squad leaders! Front and center,” Mark called. They looked at their disassembled weapons. The challenge. Do they leave their weapons behind or finish and then report?