“I don’t know. Chicago, North Chicago, Ohfuckistan,” Timmons suggested. Felicity gave him the hairy eyeball. He looked away.
“North Chicago it is,” Billy declared, slapping his hand on his desk. “If all decisions were so easy… Ted, where were we? Yes, you control that pack or they are out of here. We want them to stay, mind you, but they can’t be biting Clyde, Aaron, or anyone else. Do you control where they hunt?”
“Yes,” Ted replied, not committing to anything.
“They also patrol at night. We call them the wolf watch,” Timmons added helpfully. Ted looked sideways at him.
Aaron rubbed his face. His black eye had come and gone while Billy was talking with them, but his face still hurt. He looked from person to person, but couldn’t remember who hit him.
The wolf pack started howling and yipping. Ted raised one finger and ran outside. The pack was mobbing Terry Henry Walton since he carried a bucket brimming with fish. Char carried a laughing Kaeden. Terry was holding the bucket over his head as the wolves jumped at him.
“Ted!” he yelled when he saw the pack’s alpha. Ted whistled and called to them.
“You see, every time we had fish in that bucket, they got fed. They’re just a little anxious, you see. It hasn’t been a good day,” Ted said with his hands out, ready to take the bucket. Terry handed it over and Ted pulled a fish and handed it to the closest wolf. In rapid succession he gave a fish to each in his pack. Ten of Terry and Kae’s hard-caught fish.
The boy wanted down, but Char wouldn’t let him go. He wanted to pet the wolves. She’d let him later, when they weren’t eating. Ted handed the bucket back, smiled, and went back into the base’s main brick building.
Terry looked at his mostly empty bucket, rolled his eyes, and shook his head. Terry, Char, and Kae followed Ted inside, still carrying their bucket.
Billy stood when he saw Terry and Char on their way into the spacious office that was quickly filling. The smell of dog, fish, and Werewolf was almost too much. Felicity had her sleeve over her face.
“I guess we missed something,” Char observed.
“Cats and dogs not getting along, dogs and dogs not getting along,” Billy said, pointing to Clyde whimpering in Sue’s arms. “But there is some good news!”
Terry couldn’t imagine as he stroked Clyde’s hair and examined his wounds. “Who bit my dog?” he asked dangerously.
“We’re calling this place North Chicago!” Billy said, holding his hands up in triumph.
Clyde jumped from Sue’s arms, stuffing his dog face into the bucket and grabbing a fish as he fell from Sue’s arms. The bucket followed the dog down, spewing the remaining fish and snotty water on the floor. Clyde scrambled through the mess on his way out the door, holding his prize firmly in his jaws.
Terry turned to Sue as everyone looked at the mess on the floor. “Your dog made a mess,” he told her, as he turned and walked briskly away.
***
“You can’t come through here,” the man with the feathered headdress said in a deep voice.
Adams bristled, but relaxed and approached the man who was clearly in charge. “We are with Terry Henry Walton, bringing his herd to Chicago, for the good people of New Boulder.”
“Welcome. We knew you were coming, but you can’t come through here, because the village is right over that next rise. The cattle would probably do considerable damage. Please loop to the south and around, then leave your cattle to graze to the northeast on the shore of the river.” Chief Foxtail smiled and waved to the others that he could see. “We invite you and all your people to be our guests for a celebration.”
Adams smiled. “Thank you. I apologize for my misunderstanding. We happily accept your gracious invitation.” Adams bowed to the chief.
“You are like the one called Charumati. We welcome all Were folk,” the chief said, inclining his head slightly.
Adams closed his eyes and reached out with his senses. Hundreds of people nearby. Almost seventy head of cattle, horses, his people, and the chief before him. The air smelled of heat, sweat, and animals.
There had been a time when being a Werewolf was a secret. Now it seemed like everyone knew, and people were kind to them because of it. What a far different world it had become.
When Adams opened his eyes, the chief and his people had gone.
CHAPTER FIVE
When Mark returned for Mrs. Grimes, she was not happy. “What?” he asked.
“How long were you going to leave me out here, mister? Incompetent buffoons take that long to clean one little room!” she yelled at him, swinging at him with her wooden spoon-shaped walking stick. He dodged the deadly weapon and beckoned for her to follow.
She shuffled after him, climbed the stairs slowly, and walked into the vastly improved squad bay. Her room had been thoroughly cleaned and contained the two best pieces of furniture: a wobbly metal chair and a steel bunk with a mattress. They’d moved her meager personal items into the room.
“So, someone snuck around and ran to my room on the other side?” she wondered.
“It took them a while to find your stuff. Sorry for the deceit, Mrs. Grimes. We want you to be comfortable,” Mark said kindly. The rest of the platoon agreed and cheered for the old lady, making her blush.
“All right, cool your jets, people,” she called, waving her arms for quiet. “Show me where the kitchen is in this place and then we’ll see what we have to do.”
Mark pursed his lips. No one moved.
“Don’t tell me,” she warned.
“There’s no kitchen,” Mark said, barely above whisper.
“I told you not to tell me!” she barked.
“There’s a central mess and that’s where everyone will eat until we get the food situation under control,” Gerry said, stepping forward from the crowd. Kiwi held his hand in both of hers.
“And who are you, my lovely?” Mrs. Grimes asked.
“Kiwidinok of the Cheyenne,” she said proudly, but in a small voice.
“Well, Kiwidinok, you are far too precious to be hanging out with this rabble. Let’s see if we can find you better quarters. Mark?” Mrs. Grimes looked sternly at the sergeant.
“We have a room, right behind the power plant. That’s where we’ve been staying since we got here,” Gerry replied.
“You’re moving in here with the rest of us,” Mark said flatly.
“Poppycock!” Mrs. Grimes yelled. “That young lady is not moving in here. She’s not a member of the FDG.” Mrs. Grimes jutted her chin as she looked up at the sergeant.
“But Private Geronimo is,” Mark argued.
“Where’s Blackbeard?” the old woman asked.
“Well, he’s with Hank, but he’s not far!”
Mrs. Grimes chewed her cheek as she engaged Mark in a stare-down. The two squads that made up the platoon circled them like they were watching a prize fight.
“Dammit!” Mark cried. “Mrs. Grimes, I’m the sergeant and I’m supposed to be in charge.”
“Yes, dear, you go on thinking that. Mr. Grimes thought he was in charge too, bless his departed soul.”
“I’ll talk with the colonel and see what we can work out. Gerry, are there any quarters closer to chow?” Mark asked. Mrs. Grimes huffed. She hated the idea of her cooking being called chow.
“There is, but just like the rest of the base, it’s trashed. Well, this is just the empty shell of a building. At least over there, it’s a series of single rooms,” Gerry told them. No matter where they went, it would be work to get the rooms ready, but they had eighteen people. Everything was easier with more hands to help.
“Sounds like we’re moving, Mrs. Grimes!” Mark declared to a chorus of cheers. “First squad, bring her stuff, and that includes the bed. Meet me out front in one minute. MOVE!”
Mark crooked an elbow for Mrs. Grimes to hold as they descended the stairs. “It has turned into a lovely day, don’t you think?” Mark asked the old woman.
***
Sue pett
ed Clyde’s head while Ted rubbed her back. Shonna and Merrit stood side by side, holding hands and trying to look innocent. Timmons had his arms crossed. Aaron shuffled his feet nervously while Char glared at them all. Terry stood to the side leaning against the railcar on which the Mini Cooper gleamed. Kaeden stood on the platform behind him.
She walked slowly in front of the group, back and forth, looking at each before moving to the next, then back again.
“Who started it?” she demanded, smacking her fist into her palm.
“I think maybe my pack might have, possibly,” Ted stammered.
“You’re not making your point, Ted. I love the boat, by the way,” she said.
He brightened up.
“Get your pack under control!” she yelled at his face. He ducked his head and winced as if he was going to be hit. She gripped his shoulder firmly, but in the way of a friend and not an enemy.
“And what were you stupid fuckers doing when all that was going on?” Char wondered, looking sternly at Timmons. “You’re the beta, how did you let this happen?”
“He’s a fucking cat!” Timmons blurted. Char grabbed his shirt collar and pulled him down to her level.
“I don’t care,” she whispered. “Aaron!” Char yelled. The man jumped. “Don’t bite Ted or any of these people or the wolves, do you understand?”
“I’ll try my best, but I’m pretty sure I can’t guarantee anything.”
“Shut up,” she said and he returned to looking at his big feet. “I only have one pack, and you are all in it, do you understand me?”
The Werewolves grumbled and the Were-tiger whined. Char clenched her fists as she rolled her eyes, breathing deeply to help her avoid beating everyone who was standing there.
“A fucking bear?” Timmons asked, looking at the big shaggy creature running toward them.
“That’s Hank, our grizzly. Blackie shouldn’t be far behind. They’re going with us, all of us, tomorrow when we introduce ourselves to that Were-bear. Maybe that guy will see a kindred spirit in Hank and decide that we’re not such bad people,” Terry suggested, eyebrows raised and grinning.
Shonna, Merrit, and Sue had spent enough time with the bear cub that they didn’t think anything about it. They looked at him as the big goofy cousin who breaks your toys whenever he visits.
Timmons leaned sideways to get a better look at the animal who decided to stop, then turned and dashed into the woods along the side of the road. Blackie strolled down the road, watching. He shrugged and continued to the group. The wolf pack sniffed as Blackbeard approached, but stayed where they were.
“Aaron, I need you to pet each of the wolves,” Terry said. “Same for you, Corporal.
“I’m not sure that’s a good idea,” Ted said, standing protectively in front of the pack.
“Well then, Ted, what do you suggest we do to expedite the integration of the pack with the rest of our mob?” Terry countered.
“I’ll introduce them one by one.” Ted talked with the former alpha male, then grabbed him by the scruff of his neck to help move him out front.
“Aaron, you first. Corporal Blackbeard, then you, and get Hank up here, too,” Terry told them.
The wolf growled at Aaron, but the tall man took a knee and held his hand out, palm up. The wolf sniffed as Ted stroked his head and ruffled his ears. The wolf looked back at the pack and growled. The rest of them joined him to sniff Aaron and Blackie. They seemed to have no problem with the human who smelled like a bear.
Ted had to slap a few wolf heads before he was comfortable that the pack had accepted the Were-tiger.
“Now change into your Were form,” Terry ordered.
“Please, I would prefer not.” Aaron started to slowly step away. Terry intercepted him.
“I’m pretty sure that wasn’t open for debate. I can’t have a cat fight if we’re in the middle of the shit. I need to know that everyone is going to work together, so go on now and change.” Terry waited. The man stood straight up, then disappeared into his clothes, where a great tiger emerged. Sleek, orange with black stripes. Pale yellow eyes looked at the group. The cat crouched and then leapt sideways, landing softly on the platform next to Kaeden.
Char gasped and started to run, but there was no time. Aaron lowered his head and bumped Kaeden, who seemed completely unafraid of the predators that surrounded him. Terry held out a hand to stop Char as he slowly approached the great cat.
Kaeden gripped Aaron’s ears as they held their foreheads together. “I want to be a tiger, too!” Kae called out. Char picked up Aaron’s clothes and tossed them on the platform.
The wolf pack remained wary, hunched and watching every one of the Were-tiger’s moves.
Hank ambled onto the road, roaring his disapproval of something. Blackie met the bear and calmed him. Together they joined the pack. Hank sniffed tentatively, then stood on his back legs and roared again.
The cub was growing up. Terry wondered when they would no longer be able to control him. The pack backed up, baring fangs as they went. The cat snarled from the platform and crouched to leap. Kae threw himself around the tiger’s neck and spoke into his hairy ear. Aaron settled down on the platform, lying down and tucking his front paws under his chest.
Hank dropped to the ground, bumped Blackie, and rolled to his back to get his belly scratched.
When they turned back, Aaron was putting his clothes on.
“Everything was okay?” he asked. “Since there’s no blood, I’m assuming…”
Terry slapped him in the leg and smiled. “You are his manny,” Terry said, pointing to Kaeden.
“Huh? What’s a manny?” he wondered. Char looked at Terry with the same expression on her face.
“Male nanny. Welcome to the family, Aaron.”
“But what if…” Aaron often let his thoughts taper off. Being alone had done that to him. He wasn’t used to being around so many people. Not yet anyway, and Terry was giving him no choice but to figure it out.
“What if you don’t want to?” Terry asked. “Don’t make me reach up there and punch you in the kneecap!”
Kaeden held his hands out, and the tall man picked the boy up. “Wow, I can see the end of the world from up here!”
***
When they had the cattle settled outside the village, Adams asked everyone to use the river to clean up. It was the only time the group would be guests at someone else’s home, and he wanted to put on a good face for the chief and his people.
Boris refused to leave his weapons behind. Adams was insistent and they agreed to disagree. Adams ordered Boris and his squad to remain behind and watch over the cattle.
“Rather miss dinner than be unarmed,” Boris replied snottily.
Adams couldn’t let it go.
“Why are you with us?” he asked.
“To defend this group and the cattle from any enemies we may find along the way, hunt for food, and most importantly, see that you get to Chicago,” Boris said, hearing his own words making Adams’s argument.
“We’re going to be over there and we’re not taking weapons, so do what you have to do, but I wouldn’t want to be you facing Terry Henry Walton if you lost people.” Adams stalked away.
In the end, Boris left one man behind to watch their stack of rifles and the cattle, while the other six joined the group heading to the village.
The chief and a small delegation were waiting for them on the hill. Adams met him and the two men shook hands. Foxtail greeted the Werewolf as an old friend, draping an arm over his shoulder as they walked together toward the village, where a bonfire occupied the empty space between the tents. The smell of roasting buffalo filled the air.
The natives stood on one side of the fire while the people from New Boulder stood on the other in uncomfortable silence. It seemed like a standoff, or a game of Red Rover, where someone would run from one side to the other and try to break through the line.
Adams snickered.
Chief Foxtail tapped his staff to get e
veryone’s attention. It was already quiet except for the crackling of the fire and the movements of the two people tending it.
“We welcome our brothers from the south and wish them well on their journey,” the chief said, projecting his voice for all to hear. “We have communed with Mother Earth and she has told us that this land will be consumed by dust and heat, and that we must move. Tomorrow, my people, we will join the brave souls here in a journey to our new home!”
Adams stood dumbfounded.
“I’m glad I didn’t miss this,” Boris said, after having found his way next to the Werewolf.
CHAPTER SIX
“What’s going to happen to us, Geronimo?” Kiwi asked.
“We do as we have been doing, make this a better and better place, turn it back into civilization,” Gerry parroted.
“I don’t know what that word means—civilization. Everything I knew about a town was from our village by the river. That’s where I was born and raised. This is so different,” she sighed, gripping his hand so tightly that it cut off the circulation to his fingers.
They started to throb.
He pried her fingers away to stand up and face her. “What do you want, Kiwi?”
“I’d like to have a purpose,” Kiwi said, looking at a spot on Gerry’s shirt. “It seems that I’m in the way, a backpack that you carry, something that you’ll come home to. That Mark guy is pushing me to join the Force, it seems, and I’m not sure I want that.”
“Let’s talk with the colonel and the major, maybe your grandmother?” Gerry suggested, stroking the side of her face with one hand. She was in pain and he didn’t know what to do. His heart melted seeing the sadness in her dark brown eyes. “Right now. We’ll find them and talk with them right now.”
Kiwi seemed to perk up at having something to do. Gerry found Mark first to tell him that they needed to talk with the colonel.
“Why don’t you think you can tell me?” Mark said, more harshly than he intended.
“This is a civilian issue. It’s not tied to the Force. We just need to talk with him, which is something he’s always told us. Come see me, he said. That’s what we want to do,” Gerry replied.
Nomad Omnibus 02: A Kurtherian Gambit Series (A Terry Henry Walton Chronicles Omnibus) Page 25