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Nomad Omnibus 03: A Kurtherian Gambit Series (A Terry Henry Walton Chronicles Omnibus)

Page 85

by Craig Martelle


  Gerry wanted to leave, but he couldn’t. He was the alpha. The world’s strongest Werewolf had entrusted him with the council’s leadership. He had no choice but to comply.

  He felt old and tired, having to drag himself out of bed each day.

  “What’s the latest?” he asked his daughter. She’d been consolidating the information from the routine check-ins. Her young female voice seemed to put the other pack alphas at ease. When Gerry answered, they unloaded on him.

  It had been wearing him down.

  Even with the better attitude from the alphas, it was wearing Jacqueline down, too.

  “We’ll keep doing the best we can, dear,” Gerry said softly as he read the dispatches. At least that day, the numbers were holding steady. “Looks like I don’t need to talk with anyone today. Damn straight.”

  Gerry went through his morning ritual, getting ready for the day. With nothing pending, he decided a day on the lake would be best. He knew a human with a boat and would beg for a ride.

  He gathered Jacqueline to him, and they headed out. They didn’t live too far from the marina, but it was far enough.

  When they walked through a shadowed block, four street toughs showed up. “She’s too young for you, old man. Give us the girl and we won’t kill you.”

  “Fuck off and we won’t kill you,” Gerry growled in return, unsure of whether he had the energy or not for a fight, but he wasn’t going to go down without one.

  Jacqueline was afraid, but more for her father than herself. Adrenaline surged through her body. She wondered where the surge would take her. She turned to Gerry.

  “I’ll go with them, Father,” she said loud enough for the punks to hear.

  “No,” the old man wailed. His knees buckled and she eased him to the ground.

  “I need help,” she told the toughs. They didn’t move. They didn’t lift a finger.

  She got even angrier. She left her father lying there and walked toward the men. She stopped out of arm’s reach. “What do we do now?” Jacqueline asked.

  The men’s looks told her all she needed to know. She’d never had any intention of going with them. All she wanted was for them to leave her father alone. But he was on the ground and needed help. She needed to end the standoff quickly.

  She charged, accelerating at her enhanced speed, shoulder-blocking two of the young men. They were thrown backward, landing heavily. She jumped, turned in the air, and came down on top of them, stomping on their chests. They gasped with the explosion of air. She thought she heard at least one rib crack under the assault.

  The other two rushed her. She kicked with all her strength. Not graceful, but effective. The man couldn’t block it. He wasn’t strong enough. He took the point of her shoe on his belly button. He dropped like a rock and curled up.

  The final street tough grabbed her. She ducked out of his grasp and swung her elbow behind her. She caught him in the groin. He joined his fellows on the ground, writhing in pain.

  She returned to her father, helped him up, and together, they made their way back home.

  WWDE + 141

  Denver

  The newcomers walked off the dirigible into a crowd of people. Those who had lived there for a while were gauging the quality of the new arrivals for whatever purpose suited them.

  Some wanted workers for manual labor. Some wanted admin personnel. Everyone wanted engineers. Some of those waiting even held up signs.

  Jacqueline was good at bookkeeping. She gravitated toward a sign looking for someone to keep the books for a growing restaurant and bar complex. The sign said, “Work for Kraven! The best place in town.”

  “I’m a bookkeeper,” she said softly.

  “I’m sure you are, young lady. Get in line with the rest of them,” he ordered. Her spirits sagged when she saw seven other people milling about.

  No one went to the unskilled labor positions because the youngsters thought more highly of themselves than that, but most would end up there anyway. The mines and trades wanted the newcomers to know where to go when their cushy office jobs didn’t pan out.

  Employers don’t pay for people to learn on the job. Not when they have a choice.

  Jacqueline took one last look at the dirigible and kissed her old life good-bye. She hoped her father would forgive her, for she could no longer be his number one. She didn’t want to be in a pack.

  Hell, she didn’t even want to be a Werewolf, but if she had to, then she would be a lone wolf.

  ***

  Sarah Jennifer Walton held up a sign like the others. She was looking for ranch hands. She’d built her homestead up quickly, using some of the Walton wealth that had been shared with her.

  She was making a run of it, raising horses for sale and boarding horses for those who needed space. Training horses for those who wanted a spirited steed that minded its manners.

  Before leaving San Francisco, she’d never even seen a horse, but she learned quickly and had more than a knack for it. She loved the animals and the rest came easy.

  Within a month, she’d purchased the ranch, then spent six more months transitioning with the previous owner. After that, she started hiring people.

  Her main competitor lived far too close for comfort. Jack Childers sniffed around too often. He wasn’t old, but he thought quite highly of himself. And he liked how Sarah looked. Young and beautiful.

  Just how he preferred his fillies.

  Sarah was having none of it. Jack’s men would show up on occasion with offers from their boss. She’d send them away with broken bones. After a year, they stopped coming.

  She knew they’d be back. Whenever she was the most vulnerable, their ugly dog faces would appear. She was building her own stable of hands, and they were good ones. Sarah wondered how much she should teach them about fighting. There was a lot she didn’t know, but there wasn’t a single man around that she couldn’t easily defeat in hand-to-hand combat.

  Sarah would consider it, but first, there were the horses. She needed to get to work. The animals were counting on her for the life they were meant to lead.

  San Francisco

  “Get your asses in gear!” Lieutenant Kurtz bellowed. Two platoons were starting to lose their cohesion. It was only halfway on a six-mile run. “Tighten up! By all that’s holy, tighten the fuck up!” Edwin, Nick, and Samantha were running circles around the group, finding those who weren’t keeping pace and delivering a more personal approach.

  All the attention the warriors never wanted.

  Corporal Garcia, first squad leader of first platoon, had his entire squad in step and was the foundation of the platoon. He fell out, dropped to the rear of his squad, and yelled motivating cries from the rear. When he shouted for change, the warrior at the front would drop out, slide to the back, and hold pace there.

  Everyone was given a chance to lead. Everyone was given a chance to follow.

  Kurtz liked what he saw, as did the FDG’s senior officers. Besides Garcia, there were a few others who stood out. Intelligent, fit, and good leaders.

  All traits critical for success in the new Force de Guerre.

  Terry watched them develop. He listened to the reports from the failing NAPC. He heard what the tac teams were seeing when they deployed. He saw for himself. The world was slipping back into its former ways.

  With Char by his side, Terry refused to run again. He’d been taught to face his shortcomings, to face his fears and stand up to them. Regain control over the one thing that he was in control of that raged most often out of control.

  His own feelings.

  CHAPTER TWENTY-EIGHT

  WWDE + 145

  Japan

  “Civilization has returned to such an extent that I no longer can parse the data. There is simply too much. I am sorry, Akio-san,” Eve apologized.

  “You have nothing to be sorry for, Eve. You have done magnificently over the years. You are to be commended. All I can ask is that you do your best. Focus on the bigger cities. New York City, Chicag
o, Tianjin, the Rhinelanders, and Paris.”

  “I can do that.” Eve turned back to the multitude of screens in the command center and started eliminating noise from the remaining parts of the world, narrowing her collection to only the places that Akio mentioned.

  “And Denver,” Akio added as an afterthought. Terry mentioned Denver too many times to discount its growing importance. Plus, its proximity to the most important bases highlighted it.

  “Denver and its environs seem to have minimal power available. There are scant signals emanating therefrom. Are you sure you want me to focus there and not a place with more power, such as Des Moines and Pittsburgh? Both are on the coast-to-coast dirigible route and both with sustained power generation capability.”

  Akio reconsidered for a moment. “Keep Denver and add Pittsburgh and Des Moines. Thank you, Eve.”

  She returned to her screens, and the data started to flow.

  San Francisco

  Terry walked off the pod. His uniform glistened from the still-wet blood of the Vampire hunters, as the humans had taken to calling themselves.

  Even though they mostly caught Weres.

  And sometimes they ran into more than they bargained for.

  When the hunters become the hunted, they are ill-prepared for the hurt that comes their way.

  Terry and Char had run them down, while they prepared their ambush. With the lessons learned from numerous contacts, Terry had refined the way he responded. Wait and attack the attackers moments before the ambush.

  The intelligence was the hardest thing to gather, but he gave up on trying to get it from others. He watched the Weres himself, learned their habits, which routes they frequented, determined the most vulnerable points, and then waited.

  The other tac teams were doing that, too. Nine times out of ten, it resulted in nothing except surprising the Weres and showing them where they were most vulnerable, subject to getting kidnapped.

  But in times like today, Terry guessed right and caught the Vamp hunters when they were most vulnerable.

  They wouldn’t give up the buyers, so Terry dropped them naked in the middle of what remained of the Great Salt Lake. If they made it out, they’d think twice about going after Weres. If Terry or any of the others caught them again, they’d be executed on the spot.

  Recidivists were dealt with in one way only.

  Terry and Char returned home, where they threw their clothes in the washer. Terry put on shorts and a Hawaiian shirt, grabbed a cold beer, and headed outside. It was cold, but he was in the mood for the beach. He sat on a chair in his front yard, wearing sunglasses and a ball cap.

  The other teams had returned from their missions in the previous days. They had had no luck besides raising Were awareness. They applauded Terry and Char’s engagement. Getting skunked too many times in a row was depressing.

  As chairs and people appeared in Terry and Char’s front yard, the informal debriefs began.

  “I think one mission a quarter,” Terry said. “We’re deploying too much for too little gain. And the worst part is, no one appreciates it.”

  “They don’t know they appreciate it because we aren’t exactly advertising,” Char replied. “But they do. We’re saving Were lives and exacting retribution on those who know about the Unknown World and are abusing that knowledge.”

  Terry smiled and nodded. “We are no closer to finding who started this whole thing.” Terry looked around and relaxed. “Does anyone have any ideas where this could have come from? Who would have thought to drain someone’s blood and then drink it?”

  “A Were,” Marcie replied sadly.

  “Most likely,” Char added in support. “I don’t think we will find out, because this seems to be a human undertaking, unenhanced exacting their revenge on a world they never knew existed. Envy is their weakness. With Were or Vampire blood, they can get some of the benefits the nanos provide without being chosen. Different gatekeepers holding sway.”

  “Bethany Anne found me worthy for whatever reason. She let me through the gate.” Terry considered sharing that Akio thought BA would be returning in five years’ time, but decided against it. If the information was wrong, everyone’s spirits would be crushed.

  Or would they? None of them knew Bethany Anne. To them, she was both a demon and a savior. Retribution? Fury? Don’t run afoul of BA? Terry would keep that to himself and Char. If she arrived and met with them, they would be ready and humble.

  “Others don’t care what it takes to get through the gate. They are willing to do anything. I almost can’t blame them, but not everyone gets a chance at immortality. I’ve pulled strings to take care of my own.” Terry choked up, looking at his children and their families. They were there: Kaeden and Marcie, Kimber and Auburn, Cory and Ramses.

  Kae and Marcie’s children were in the twilight of their lives. Having never had children of their own, they turned over the family business to Kailin, Kim and Auburn’s son. Cory’s daughter had struck out on her own shortly after the loss of Butch and Skippy.

  She saw what a life in the FDG was going to be like. She knew that she would never be the best of them. She had to find her own way, as they all did at one point in their lives.

  As Terry did at multiple points in his long life. Each time, he refocused to get back on track. Fifty years? That was to let his children find their way. Four years in a monastery? That was all about Terry Henry and Charumati.

  They returned to the world more grounded and better versed in what they needed from life. Terry was finally aligned with what he couldn’t control and accepting of life’s inevitable failures. He wasn’t driving as hard as he used to.

  Char’s pack appreciated that. Sue and Timmons and Shonna and Merrit showed up, too. They knew a lot of people, but they had few friends. The group that they joined in the yard that evening represented all of those they considered to be their family.

  Aaron and Yanmei had become oligarchs of their own. They remained in China, leading Heping Industries. Peace Industries.

  Gene and Fu were in the Crimea bringing the communities of the Black Sea together to form a consortium of trade and cooperation.

  The Werebear as a politician and the Weretigers as business leaders.

  All they needed was the opportunity, and hard work delivered the rest. The others had found themselves and their calling. Each taking a role in bringing humanity back to civilization.

  Ted and Felicity had taken over the worldwide air service. Dirigibles plied the skies filled with supplies and people. The luxury of air travel was back. People dressed up to fly, like on the cruise liners of old.

  Everyone could see Felicity’s influence in the design. Each ship had a luxury suite for the owners, just in case Ted and Felicity graced the dirigible with their presence. She was in her element, throwing the best parties while traveling from one city to the next, frequently to Chicago where three of her children lived.

  Terry stood and the group quieted. Terry’s lectures had grown shorter and less frequent over the years. When he spoke, the group listened because what he had to say mattered.

  It mattered to them as individuals. It mattered to them as a family.

  “I’m glad you could make it,” Terry said. There had been no invitations. It wasn’t a scheduled affair. It was a testament to how the inner circle gravitated toward each other. The magnetism of the group’s leaders.

  “In order for the Vampire hunters to come into the open, we have to step back, give them that false sense of security. Let’s look at a strategic plan for the next five years.” Terry began to pace as he thought. He caught Char rolling her eyes. “Maybe five-year planning can wait until tomorrow.”

  She nodded and smiled.

  “Are we making a difference?” Terry asked. The group didn’t understand the question. “When we first started out a bazillion years ago, we focused on keeping the community secure so we could survive. Then we looked for better, always a little better. North Chicago gave us the opportunity to put down roo
ts and let the people flourish. We traveled the world, here and there, looking for the Forsaken, removing them from power, letting humanity be responsible for itself. We’re now in San Francisco and look at this place! It blossomed once we wrested it from Forsaken control.

  “That’s my story anyway. Freedom isn’t something to be doled out incrementally. It either is or it is not. Once we removed the petty dictators, those from the Unknown World who sought minions and slaves, humanity found its stride. We may not agree with everything they’re doing, but it is what it is. Any leaders of these new city-states who has gotten on the wrong side of justice has been brought back in line with some gentle nudging.”

  Terry watched the eyebrows at his last statement. The listeners had a different definition of gentle nudging. Some laughed.

  “I think the previous Mayor of the New York City-State may disagree. You made him pee himself. Gentle, TH?” Marcie said, having taken to calling her father-in-law by the nickname he reserved for only his closest friends.

  “As gentle as the individual will allow before they see the errors of their ways.” Terry put his hand over his heart and tried to look contrite, before continuing, “It’s easy to see the bad in things. When we started this, I had such high hopes for humanity, for a new world.

  “But people got in the way. Human nature is overwhelmingly helpful and good, but those people generally aren’t the ones in power. There is some secret sauce to power, whether there is a flaw in those who seek it, or once in power, their dark side takes over. Power corrupts. Absolute power corrupts absolutely, or so they say. I think human frailty cannot withstand the positive reinforcement that comes from being in charge. It’s an addiction, but there’s no world police to keep the leaders on the straight and narrow.

  “That can’t be us. It has been, but it shouldn’t be. Our whole focus is on giving the people a chance. For me, it’s heartbreaking to see, but I know that it’s out of my control. It would kill all of you if we raced from city-state to city-state to be the thought police. Where would we draw the line? It would be a slippery slope. Our way or the highway. I know that I’ve given those exact same dictates in the past. I know I’m right! Or am I? Think about what the next five years could bring and our role during that time. That’s all I wanted to say. Enjoy yourselves and stay the fuck out of my beer!”

 

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