Nomad Omnibus 01: A Kurtherian Gambit Series (A Terry Henry Walton Chronicles Omnibus)

Home > Other > Nomad Omnibus 01: A Kurtherian Gambit Series (A Terry Henry Walton Chronicles Omnibus) > Page 51
Nomad Omnibus 01: A Kurtherian Gambit Series (A Terry Henry Walton Chronicles Omnibus) Page 51

by Craig Martelle


  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 sound 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 SIXTY-ONE

  “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 wante
d 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.

  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?

  Jim picked his rifle up, slung it and marched smartly to where Mark was waiting. The other two put their weapons together, cycled the bolts, and then joined Mark.

  Never go anywhere without your weapon.

  “I need you to take your squads to the greenhouses. See what help they need to prepare to move and make it happen. Others won’t be as hard. It’s not like we’re going to dismantle the power plant and take it with us, although they may want to take some tools and such. I’ll see them after I talk with the mayor. Form them up and run them. We have to be faster and in better shape than anyone else. Make it so,” he ordered. They saluted.

  They were used to saluting the colonel and the major, so they started doing it among themselves. Mark liked it, but it wasn’t a power trip. It was good order and discipline. It showed respect for the position.

  Mark couldn’t let his people down, because the Force couldn’t let the civilians down. That meant he needed to be harder on them now, so they wouldn’t break later.

  “What are you waiting for? Get your people and go!” he screamed. There was much scrambling as the slowest finished putting their rifles back together. The squad leaders conducted a quick inspection to make sure the rifles functioned and then marched them away, double-timing once they had space.

  Mark watched them go. The bear cub yowled from the enclosure. He knew that the beast had been fed. Maybe it was time to take the situation into his own hands.

  He walked to the enclosure and opened the gate. Mark backed away until he was around the corner of the house, then he ran, hoping that when they returned, the grizzly would be long gone.

  ***

  The horses hung their heads. They’d been going all night and were exhausted. The mountains that they saw at dusk seemed close, but distances in the west were distorted and the going was slow. It was like walking in soft sand. They still hadn’t caught up to the wolf pack, but Char assured Terry that the wolves were still running.

  “Dismount!” Terry ordered, climbing down first, stepping ankle deep into the dust. “Single file, behind me.”

  He walked ahead, following the track left by the wolf pack. They’d run single file too, and Terry suspected that Ted was the one breaking the trail. They fell in line behind Terry Henry to continue plodding forward. They would all share the burden.

  “Not too far now,” Char called out. “The pack has stopped.”

  “I hope that’s a good thing,” Terry said into the heat of the night air.

  Terry walked more quickly as the rise before him came into sharper focus. A hill, a different color than the rest of the land. Ankle deep dust, then half that, then just a sprinkling on the ground. He climbed and the air changed appreciably. It tasted clean.

  “Up here,” a tired voice called out. Ted was lying on the ground, panting, but there was a small pool, fed by an unseen spring. The water was muddy from the wolves getting into it.

  “Come on, you pack of ass-dirty hairballs. Get out of the water!” Terry called out. Ted said something and the wolves retreated. Terry used his hands to scoop the dirty water toward the trickle of a stream that cascaded away. He cupped his hands and took a drink. It tasted like mud.

  “Give it a few minutes,” he told Char as they stopped, but the horses weren’t going to wait. They waded in and one by one, drank greedily. The last in line tried to push their way to the front. Gerry intervened, moving the horses around so they could all drink.

  “Drink from yo
ur flasks. We’ll be able to refill them here in a little while,” Terry told them. James, Lacy, and Gerry drank heartily. Terry, Char, and Timmons waited. They could go without for a while longer, just in case Terry was wrong about the spring refilling with clean water.

  “How’s the pack?” Terry asked Ted, handing the man his clothes.

  “They’ve been better, but we didn’t lose anyone. We’ll need to rest, maybe a full day, and they’ll need food, too.” Ted looked lovingly at the wolves, sprawled here and there, eyelids heavy as they watched the horses to make sure they didn’t get stepped on.

  “I hope the dawn sheds a little light on our situation,” Char said, looking east. Terry wrapped an arm around her waist and she rested her head on his shoulder.

  “Me, too.” He kissed her head. “I love you, Char.”

  “Me, too,” she replied, mimicking his usual reply. “This is a real pile of shit right here.”

  “A veritable shit storm,” Terry added. “And the shit was flying! It was a shitfest.”

  “It’s not just any shithole, it’s our shithole,” Lacy called from the darkness.

  Ted chuckled. “We’re in the shit, alright.”

  “Don’t bring that weak shit in here, meat!” Terry called.

  “Suck shit through a straw,” Timmons, sitting on a rock nearby, said in a low voice.

  “Eat a bag of dicks,” Ted said.

  “Hey,” Terry cried out. “There are women present, so watch your fucking mouth.”

  More chuckling from the darkness.

  “Are we safe to sleep?” he asked Char.

  “Yes, we will be alert enough. Keep your weapons close, just in case,” Ted replied.

  “What he said,” Char answered. The horses were huddled together, already sound asleep. They stood too close to the pool for Terry’s comfort, but they’d move them when it was light enough. Until then, sleep called. Terry and Char curled up together, as did James and Lacy. Ted sprawled among the wolves while Gerry leaned against one of the horses that had laid down. Timmons sought the edge of the wolf pack and settled into the thick gray fur.

 

‹ Prev