Nomad Found

by Craig Martelle

  “Of course my Billy isn’t a nice man. Maybe that’s why I’m here…” she drawled, leaving the ending hanging.

  * * *

  Terry thought the governor’s mansion should have looked more like a mansion. It was barely bigger than a normal house, but it was far busier with people coming and going. Horse-drawn carts were scattered on a road leading east toward the fields.

  Consolidation of food was one way to control the people. Terry wondered if he’d have to kill the self-proclaimed mayor and take over. He didn’t want that.

  But he’d already made his decision. He would do what he had to because in that direction was his redemption.

  The people needed him and they didn’t even know who he was. That would change soon enough. The four of them approached the front door, where a fat man with a rifle stood guard. Terry wondered if the man could shoot. Bullets were one of the most scarce commodities of the new world. Terry brushed his thoughts aside once he was within arm’s reach of the man.

  “We need to see Billy,” Mark said gruffly.

  “I’m not sure you want to see him right now. Go away and come back tomorrow,” the man sneered through broken teeth, tipping his head back as he tried to look down on the group. Mark shrugged and started to turn, but Terry was past him and in a move too fast for the eyes to follow, grabbed the rifle and twisted it from the fat man’s grip.

  Terry backed up as the man protested and started forward. Terry reversed the rifle and butt-stroked the man’s face. With his nose ruined, lips split, and face destroyed, the man collapsed.

  Bubbles in the blood suggested he wasn’t dead, but that wasn’t Terry’s concern. He opened the door and walked into a small entryway, waving at the other three men to follow him. The look he gave them suggested they best not double-cross him.

  Devlin followed first, in awe at their new acquaintance’s skills. “Did you see that?” he asked his two buddies admiringly.

  Mark nodded tersely and pushed Jim in front of him.

  Terry saw the marks on the floor where the majority of the traffic went. They led to closed double-doors. Terry walked up and knocked boldly, waiting for an answer.

  When he heard a shout from within, he opened the doors and waved the others to go in first. Mark hesitated once he saw the look on Billy’s face.

  “Get in there, dickweed,” Terry grumbled. When all three were inside, Terry put the rifle on the table in front of Billy and sat down. Billy’s face turned red as he let his anger get the best of him.

  “Who in the holy fuck are you?” he demanded, eyes looking at the rifle and then back at the annoying man sitting in his chair.

  Terry turned his head slightly and you could hear his neck pop in the stillness of the room. “I’m Terry Henry Walton, and who do I have the pleasure of addressing?” he asked as he noted everything about the man, then looked at the raving beauty who stood at his side.

  Terry nodded once in her direction before turning his attention back to the self-appointed mayor. Billy followed the glance and looked quickly to Felicity, seeing that she responded with a slight smile, eyes continuing to sparkle as she looked at the stranger.

  Billy lunged for the rifle, grabbing it and aiming at the stranger, he pulled the trigger.

  Click.

  Terry put his hand on the table and deposited the two bullets he’d cycled out of the rifle when he was in the entryway. Billy slammed the rifle on the table and remained standing so he could loom over the other man. Billy looked at Mark, Jim, and Devlin. Then something registered.

  “Where’s John?” he asked, his eyes narrowing.

  “Tell him,” Terry ordered. When Mark started to speak, Terry stopped him and pointed. “You, Devlin.”

  “Well, Mr. Spires, we paid the old lady on the outskirts of town a visit because John said she had some vegetables that came in.” Devlin swallowed and his head bobbed in Terry’s direction, “This man was there and he beat the shit out of the four of us. Then he shows up this morning by crashing through the door and ripped John’s head off. He told us if we ever bothered the old lady again, he would kill us. Jim made a comment I don’t think he liked so he beat Jim senseless for good measure,” Devlin shared.

  Billy’s rage cooled. He hadn’t been afraid of John or Jim. They were punks, but he wouldn’t fight all four of them at once. He studied the newcomer’s face. Not a mark. He’d killed a man with his bare hands and beaten one of the biggest men in town senseless, and they hadn’t touched him.

  “I’m Billy Spires,” he said. Felicity put a hand on his arm, and he rested his free hand over hers, subtly telling Terry Henry Walton that she was a war he didn’t want to fight.

  Terry had no intention of fighting over her. He recognized her for what she was: the power behind the throne. He remembered well his studies of history, thinking about Otto von Bismarck’s role in the service of Prussian King William I. Or closer to home, how Woodrow Wilson’s wife ran the government when President Wilson had a stroke. Terry didn’t want the throne, so he didn’t want her.

  His logic was simple.

  “You run the most modern society of any I’ve seen.” Terry didn’t share that he hadn’t seen any others since he retreated to the mountains twenty years prior. “My compliments to you on what you’ve accomplished. Now, I’m here because you have a problem. With your success, comes envy. There are those in the wastelands who will want what you have, to take it and leave you with nothing. You’re counting on the likes of that fat man out front? Or these guys?” Terry pointed to three men still standing. Mark knew he should take offense, but didn’t want to get in the middle of the power struggle.

  He still had hopes Billy would have the man killed.

  Terry continued, “My offer is simple. I will work for you as your chief of security. I don’t want your position as mayor or your better half. I want to secure this town so it can grow, become the basis of a new city-state, a nation-state. I don’t do that management stuff, but you do and you do it well.” He jerked a hand behind him. “I’ll train these men and others like them to protect and defend this town. I will help you protect your engineers, the people you have to have and who will flourish with freedom and support.”

  He paused and added for good measure, “Power for all. Water for all.”

  Terry looked at the man before him, watched the wheels turning. “You’re asking yourself if you can trust me,” Terry added. “I could have simply shot you the second I came through the door. You being alive is, in my opinion, the best solution or I would have simply killed you. The proof, as they say, was in my actions.”

  Felicity gripped Billy’s arm and leaned close until her lips touched his ear. He closed his eyes so he could focus on her caress.

  “Accept his offer and then come to my bed and make love to me,” she taunted.

  Billy’s eyes snapped open as he struggled to say the words, finally compromising with himself. “We will do this, temporarily. You’ll be my acting security chief until you prove to me that I don’t need to have you killed. You have no idea who my people are or when they could strike, and we’ll keep it that way.” He gestured towards the door. “Off with you now. Go do security stuff. I have business to take care of.”

  Terry looked from the mayor to Felicity. She winked at the new man when Billy turned away. Without further delay, Terry stood to leave, waving at his comrades.

  Billy spoke after getting out of his chair, his hand rubbing Felicity. “Security man, one last thing. One of my hunters went into the hills and never returned. Maybe you can find him for me? He had one of our rifles and a pocket full of ammunition.” Terry froze.

  “Which hills?” he asked.

  “What hills do you think?” Billy sniped. “Due west and a little south. He was going for elk. Took a horse, too. Your stock will rise with me if you can bring him home with his horse and gear,” Billy said, not looking at Terry. His eyes were devouring his prize instead. Felicity smiled at Billy, leaving little to the imagination regarding
what would happen next. Terry strode briskly from the room, while the others hurried to catch up.

  CHAPTER FOUR

  Ted, Simmons, Adams, and Merrit stood together in a clearing outside the cabins that had been a camper’s retreat in the time before. They stood around a fire pit, but there was no fire. They shuffled their feet and sniffed the summer air. No one knew what to say.

  The other Werewolves had tasted the human’s flesh. They usually didn’t eat humans, but this was a new era and they were a new pack. Marcus liked the taste, but the others weren’t sure. Elk was so much better, in their minds. They’d killed one that day, just after the man went down. They barely ate any of his flesh, but left Marcus to his depredations. He was the alpha male and they would do as he directed, but if they had a choice, they were sure they would not dine on human flesh again.

  Were they devolving toward a more animalistic Werewolf? What if they stopped changing back to human form? The other Weres didn’t know if that could happen, but watching Marcus, they started to fear. Maybe it was time for a new alpha.

  Simmons asked the others to follow him as he walked back into the woods, changing shape into a Werewolf as he went. The fur would keep him warm. Ted, Adam, and Merrit followed as they put as much distance as possible between them and Marcus, who was arguing with his she-wolf.

  Simmons didn’t want anyone to hear.

  * * *

  “Margie Rose! You are a goddess in the kitchen. If I were only a few years younger, I’d be a suitor at your door,” Terry jibed as he sat at the table, his plate looking like it had been licked clean. Eggs with leftover rabbit and peppers scrambled together. She’d made pancakes topped with fresh berries from one of the greenhouses.

  Terry hadn’t eaten real home cooking in forever. He almost felt drunk.

  Margie Rose wiped her hands on her apron, feeling good about having Terry in the house. She felt safe and like she had a renewed purpose. She didn’t know why, but felt that her responsibility was to take care of him so he could do greater things.

  “What do you intend to do here, Mr. Walton?” she asked formally. She would not call him TH. Not yet, anyway.

  “What do you mean, Margie Rose?” he asked, letting his eyes roll back in his head from the near orgasmic pleasure of such an incredible meal. All he had to do was provide the foodstuffs and the older lady would turn them into culinary delights. He wanted more of that.

  “Let’s start with who you are, who you really are. How did you become this person?” She looked at him, smiling, with flour on her apron from making the pancakes. She sat at the table, having not eaten. Terry noticed that she’d given it all to him. He owed her for her blind trust in him and her support. He decided to tell her the truth, well, most of it anyway.

  “I used to be in the Marines, then I left after an unfortunate incident, and took private work where we secured some things, hurt some people. Then I returned to working with the Marines. I was married, had a child. After the apocalypse, the war, they died. I bailed out on it all. Ran away to the mountains to hide. Left the world to people like those around here, bullies. I’m so sorry, Margie Rose, that you and people like you had to go it alone. For you and for them, I will spend the rest of my life trying to make up for my disgrace, my running. You deserve to have a good life. I will do what I can to make that happen.” Terry’s eyes looked green as he gazed at the older woman. All feelings of food euphoria had left him.

  Business. He was back into the business of humanity, but this time, he bore the burden alone. He had to build it all from scratch so people like Margie Rose could live in peace. He’d leverage those who’d shown they could be useful, like the four street toughs he’d taught a lesson to, like Billy Spires.

  Terry wasn’t sure about him, but he lived by the old Mad Dog Mattis adage. Be nice to everyone you meet, but have a plan to kill them. Even though Billy didn’t know it, he was living on borrowed time. One reason to keep him alive was to keep Felicity from sniffing around. He’d seen her type before, drawn to men in power.

  He wasn’t sure about her, either.

  There seemed to be something unnatural to her beauty, much like his own. He wondered…

  * * *

  “Come on, Billy, let’s go visit that nice farmer you had thrown out of here yesterday so you can apologize to him,” Felicity drawled, smiling as her fingers played with his full head of brown hair.

  “Fuck off!” he exclaimed. She pursed her lips and raised one eyebrow. The temperature in the room dropped ten degrees. Billy shivered and reached for his shirt. They were in bed and naked. He was gratified, but she wanted to talk. She always wanted something.

  But what she was willing to pay to get it! Billy had never felt the way she made him feel. All he had to do was be nice to the farmer and then she’d do that little thing where she twisted her hips. Holy shit! His eyes rolled back in his head as he thought about it.

  “Sorry,” he mumbled when he opened his eyes again. “Let’s go do that. It’s a nice day for a stroll. We can talk with all of them, tell them that their work is feeding us all. Thank them for taking dirt and water and growing food. That’s easy, Felicity, but what are we going to do about him, that Walton guy?”

  “We, dear? You can own him, if you don’t abuse him. He’ll work for you, that’s what he said, and he’s got honest eyes. I trust him, since you know he could have easily killed you. He chose not to, maybe you should think about that. He will make you great, but he’s going to ask you to change. I think you need to listen to him. He won’t ask for much, but what he asks for, you’ll have to give him. What would it be like if the people here loved you? Maybe you could stop telling everyone to go fuck themselves. That gets old, Billy dear,” she said, her voice getting softer and softer as she spoke. She ended with her lips on his neck, nibbling.

  He was getting older, and it was tiring to have to always watch his own back. That fat bastard who’d been guarding the door to his house was useless and those were the kind of people he was left with, although he had no choice in that man’s case. Blood demanded that he take care of him. He sat up straight in bed and hung his head, his chin resting on his hairless chest.

  “God damn it. You’re going to make me into a real mayor, aren’t you?” He looked at her out of the corner of his eye. She sat up, the sheet falling from her perky, young breasts. She smiled, making no attempt to cover herself. “Next thing you know, I’ll be shaking hands, kissing babies, and asking for votes. NO! Don’t you even think that. Voting will never fucking happen. I’m the benevolent dictator, growing more benevolent with each day, but I will always be a dictator, Felicity dear,” he stated, emphasizing his point by tapping his chest with his thumb.

  He climbed out of bed and stretched, exposing himself fully. Felicity rolled her eyes and then mirrored his efforts. “You can’t compare, Billy dear,” she said as she headed toward the bathroom. It was nice having a pump and running water. A warm shower was better than no shower, she reasoned, but having that, she wanted the hot shower, which meant that all the infrastructure had to be improved. She thought about the lengths she was willing to go for the luxuries she felt that she deserved. Getting Billy to apologize was only so they could get better vegetables.

  It was all part of her plan, because she deserved the best.

  * * *

  “That must have been hard for you, Mr. Walton,” Margie Rose started. “But it’s all water under the bridge. I watched my husband die after twenty- years of marriage, ten years after the fall, ten years ago. It seems like forever. I kept going because that’s what he would have wanted, but I never really had any hope. Not until now, that is. You’ve made me believe that people can be good to each other again. All it cost me is a pan of scrambled eggs in the morning and something for dinner? It’s a deal, Terry Henry Walton. You keep doing what you’re doing and I’ll keep doing what I’m doing.” She ended by holding out a hand, too thin from not eating enough and calloused from working too hard. Terry carefully pushed his
chair back, stood, and walked around until he could pull the old woman to her feet, where he hugged her for a long time. He held her as she cried and then she pushed him away so she could wipe her face on her apron.

  Terry laughed at the flour smeared across one cheek. “I have to run across town and find my boys, get them doing something productive, then I need to go into the mountains and look for a hunter who’s gone missing. I may not be back tonight, but make no mistake, since you’ve promised eggs each morning, I will be here for that. I don’t think I want to start my day any other way, Margie Rose.”

  She reached for his plate, but he stopped her and took it to the sink himself. He held up the drying rag, pointing at her to do the washing. Clean up was easy with two people. Five minutes later, Terry bolted out the front door and easily jogged the two miles to the house his boys occupied. He hoped that they hadn’t gotten into any trouble.

  When he arrived, the front door had not been repaired. He leaned his head in and saw Mrs. Grimes cleaning up the kitchen. She waved when she saw him.

  “Where are they?”

  “They ate their breakfast and went back to bed,” she said happily. Terry was angry, but not at her. He crossed the room casually, smiling, then roped her into a big hug. He grabbed the drying rag and for the second time that morning, he dried the dishes. She tried to shoo him away, but he would have none of it. He also wanted to cool down as he didn’t want to kill his new recruits. The boys needed a few days before he’d determine that they needed to die, and then he’d kill them one by one, Maybe by the time he got to the last one, that man would understand and be more accommodating.

  “Mark?” he asked and Mrs. Grimes pointed to one door. “Jim?” The next door. “Devlin?” She pointed again. As he was thinking who to rouse first, Devlin’s door opened and he walked out, fully dressed and ready to go.

  “I thought I heard you, Terry,” he said as he approached. Terry raised his eyebrows and turned his head sideways. “I mean, Mr. Walton,” Devlin quickly corrected. Terry relaxed and nodded.