Lion's Heart

By William Woodall

After traveling to the distant future to save the girl he loves from the evil ex-werewolf Dr. Andrew Garza, Cameron finds himself in a whole new world of intrigue, secret police, and wicked schemes that may yet destroy the entire human race.

• Language: English
• Publisher: William Woodall
• Release date: Oct 24, 2016
• ISBN: 9781370414208

William Woodall

I've been writing stories almost since I was able to pick up a jumbo crayon and put words on paper. I love what I do and I feel blessed to have the opportunity to share these tales with my readers.My work is typically classified as young adult literature, if only because the stories are clean and most of the characters are young. There's more to it than that, though.Every book I've ever personally loved has been what I'd call ageless. That is, it contains something that can touch the heart of a child while he's still too young and raw to appreciate subtlety, but there's also something in it that he can still feed on when he's old and gray, although perhaps not the same things. It's my aspiration to write stories like that.In fact, the majority of my readers are adults who want to read something that will uplift them and make them feel glad to be alive that day. We all need beautiful stories, and without them we suffer.If you'd like to know more about me or my work, please visit my official author's website at www.williamwoodall.org

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Lion’s Heart

The Last Werewolf Hunter, Book Five

A Curse-Breaker Book

Smashwords Edition

© 2016 by William Woodall

www.williamwoodall.org

Smashwords Edition, License Notes

This ebook is licensed for your personal enjoyment only. This ebook may not be re-sold or given away to other people. If you would like to share this book with another person, please purchase an additional copy for each person you share it with. If you’re reading this book and did not purchase it, or it was not purchased for your use only, then you should return to Smashwords.com and purchase your own copy. Thank you for respecting the hard work of this author.

Be sober, be vigilant; because your adversary the devil,

as a roaring lion, walketh about, seeking whom he may devour.

-1 Peter 5:8

Chapter One

Tuesday, June 14, 2134, Possum Kingdom, Texas

The ground suddenly dropped about three inches under Cameron’s feet, causing him to stumble and fall before he quite knew what was happening. That earned him a bloody knee along with a fresh rip in his jeans, and as he sat there nursing his wounds among the limestone boulders, he couldn’t help thinking it was an awfully bad start to the rest of his life.

But so it was. There he sat, hurled more than a hundred years into the future, without a snowball’s chance of ever going home again. He was all alone, in a place where he didn’t know a soul, where he didn’t even officially exist, where the laws and the culture were a mystery, and the natives by no means guaranteed to be friendly.

It was a scary thought.

But it was no good thinking about all that, so he struggled to his feet, favoring his left knee just a bit, and then set off walking down the dry riverbed at a brisk pace, or at least as brisk as he could manage on such rough terrain. There was barely a trickle of water left in the deepest channel of the Brazos, but even the dry rocks were treacherous.

It wasn’t long before he reached the boulder Cody had told him to look for; the one with an off-color patch of old cement near the top. It was soft and crumbly under the claw end of his hammer, and it took only a few minutes to dig out the little steel box he knew was there. Inside was a clear crystal about the size and shape of a peach pit, fastened to a silver chain; Cody’s Guardian Stone.

Cameron held it reverently for a few seconds, and then glanced back at the place where Zach and the others had dropped him off. He didn’t doubt they were still watching him via the tachometer, so he held up the crystal for them to see, letting it flash in the sun. Then he raised his other hand to wave one last time, and after hanging the chain around his neck, he turned away and kept on walking down the stream bed.

Eventually he reached a place where the bank was low enough to climb out, and presently came to a masonry bridge and a lonely stretch of highway that looked like it might have been deserted since dinosaurs walked the earth. The pavement was cracked and weathered, with scrawny weeds growing up through what was left. He’d been hoping to hitch a ride into the nearest town at Palo Pinto before figuring out how to make it the rest of the way to Mississippi, but now that was obviously out the window.

First setback, he muttered under his breath.

Still, he had a map, and if he had to walk then so be it. The shortest path seemed to be following the river downstream to the next bridge, and then turning south. Not his most favorite plan, but simple enough to remember. He finally shrugged and headed out, and then for a while he paid no more attention to his surroundings. Instead, he found his thoughts drifting reluctantly to the upcoming battle with Dr. Garza, and to Joan’s words from the sand board, which he’d carefully transcribed onto paper and memorized.

Dearest Cameron,

I have thought of you often these past months, and I hope you are well. I’m not sure if you will ever read these words or not, but I had to try. You have meant too much to me, to disappear without a word.

I would have written to you sooner if possible, but circumstances made that difficult, I fear. When Dr. Garza attacked us in Tyler, I knew the only solution was to use the tachometer against him. There was no time to be picky about the year, I simply pushed buttons at random. He and I reappeared together inside an abandoned warehouse, and I stabbed him with a knife in the ribs while he was still disoriented. It didn’t kill him, so I ran out of there as fast as I could before he had a chance to recover himself. I caught a ride with a trucker who happened to be headed to Biloxi, Mississippi, so that’s how I ended up down here on the coast. I’m thankful to say I haven’t seen Dr. Garza ever since.

I have thought much about the situation since coming here, and since these will likely be our last words to each other I will speak plainly. My love, your voice was the first thing I heard as I woke from the dust-sleep, and your beautiful blue eyes were the first thing I saw. It was your blood that wakened me, your hands that cut me free when the Garzas had me tied up ready to be killed. You were the kindest soul I knew in a world that seemed utterly insane at the time, and you made no secret of your admiration for me. I loved you very much, and I think (if I mistake not) that you also felt likewise. Perhaps I may even go so far as to say that I thought we might be married someday, God willing.

I believe my father would have liked you, which is something that matters greatly to me. I was only thirteen when he rode off to war in his homespun grey; I remember the last kiss he ever gave me, his whiskers scratching my cheek as he told me to be brave and to listen to my mother. He never came home.

So I have tried to be sensible and brave and to do the right thing, Cam, even though it has been very difficult sometimes. But my situation quickly became desperate, I fear. The police could find no record of me in this place, no proof that I hold citizenship, and they are very aggressive in deporting such persons, usually to very poor and dangerous places.

But there are kind people, even here. When I first came to Biloxi, I met a lady at church named Martha Carpenter, and she took me in and gave me a job collecting eggs at her chicken-houses. They are a very Godly family, and when they understood my situation, their son Philip offered to marry me so I could stay in the country. It was the only way, and since I knew you and I would never meet again, I accepted his offer. It has been awkward since then. We both went back to our old lives on the farm almost as if nothing had happened, still living apart and doing our work just as we had before. But promises must be kept, and Philip suggested that perhaps we might spend time together for a while as if we were courting, and then in time we might learn to love each other. He’s very gallant that way. He often reminds me of you in certain ways, even in the cast of his features. So that’s what we’ve been doing, and I believe we are gradually coming to care for each other and that eventually life will be good for both of us.

In any case, I pray you find happiness without me, dear heart, and that someday you will find your own true love. As for me, I will never love another as I have you, and I shall never forget you.

Love always,

Joan

As always, the letter left him with a bittersweet taste in his mouth. He had so many mixed feelings about this whole adventure, in spite of all his brash and confident words to the contrary. There was no way he could abandon Joan to be killed by Dr. Garza, something he knew for a fact would happen in less than a week if he didn’t stop it. But then again, he also knew that everything could still go horribly wrong somehow. There were no guarantees in life, not even when you had a tachometer.

He didn’t like thinking about it.

But in spite of his troubled thoughts, Cam gradually began to notice that something wasn’t quite right. The place was too quiet, even for a spot in the middle of nowhere. There were no birds, no animals, not even so much as a bug or a fly to be seen anywhere. The only sound was a faint breath of wind from the north, just enough to dry some of the sweat on the back of his neck.

For a while he brushed it off, but by the time he finally reached the city limit sign for the little town of Palo Pinto, there was no more denying the fact that something was seriously wrong. The place looked every bit as deserted as the highway behind him, and he started to wonder if he’d stepped into a ghost-world.

He walked all the way downtown without seeing anyone or anything except empty houses and cracked streets, and when he reached the town square there wasn’t even so much as a car parked around the old stone courthouse.

"What’s wrong with this place?" Cameron wondered, staring at the desolation.

He couldn’t help wondering if there was something unsafe about this entire region. It didn’t look dangerous, but then again there were all kinds of hazards that might be invisible to the naked eye; things like germs, or radiation, or maybe even some kind of poison. He decided it might be wise not to drink the water or to touch anything more than absolutely necessary until he had some idea of what was going on.

But at the moment he was baffled, and for lack of any better idea he went inside the courthouse to see what he might find. It was pitch dark in there, of course, but he was prepared for that; he pulled out his flashlight and switched it on before exploring any further.

There didn’t seem to be anything terribly unusual inside, other than the typical county offices and things of that sort, but he did come across a few interesting anomalies.

For one thing, all the calendars were open to October of 2113; almost twenty-one years ago. That seemed comforting at first, since whatever disaster had struck this place had been such a long time ago. But then he started to wonder why nobody had ever come back, and that made him even more uneasy than before.

Eventually he came across an old copy of The Dallas Morning News spread out on somebody’s desktop, and snatched it up eagerly. The paper fell to pieces when he tried to unfold it, but the little bit he was able to read on the front page was scary enough. The headline screamed Evacuation Order! and the lead article was full of talk about the bombing of the Mineral Wells industrial complex and cyber attacks against the electrical grid and who knew what else. From what he could gather, a major nuclear attack had utterly obliterated the city of Mineral Wells itself, while rendering everything within a thirty mile radius uninhabitable, including Palo Pinto. The article never bothered to explain who would have done such a terrible thing.

That was disturbing enough, but then he noticed another oddity. Across the dateline at the top in print small enough that he hadn’t noticed it at first, were these telltale words: Printed Sunday, October 21, 2113 at Dallas, Texas, Republic of Brazoria.

Republic of Brazoria? Cameron repeated, staring at the paper. He’d expected to have to get used to quite a few changes in the future, but apparently he’d vastly underestimated the situation.

In the meantime, he decided this definitely wasn’t a place he needed to stick around. The bombing of Mineral Wells might have been twenty-one years ago, true enough, but the thought of lingering radiation levels made his skin crawl. No wonder everything was still deserted.

He did encounter a small piece of luck not long after leaving the courthouse. Even though all the cars were gone, he did find an abandoned ten-speed bike still racked in somebody’s driveway. All the metal parts seemed to be made of aluminum, and whatever the tires might have been, they didn’t seem to have rotted or weathered. Maybe some new technology had kept them permanently inflated, but Cam honestly wouldn’t have cared even if both tires had been flat. The only thing he wanted right then was to get as far away from the ruins of Mineral Wells as possible.

He hadn’t gone far when he was startled by the sound of a vehicle approaching from behind him, and when he glanced backward he saw a silver. . . well, something. It vaguely resembled a pickup truck, although nothing like the ones he was used to. The body was shaped like a bullet, with the top half of the rear section cut off to make a place for the bed.

Cameron put his feet down and stood there gaping at the odd vehicle till it came to a stop alongside him. The driver’s window was open, and a middle-aged man with salt and pepper hair sat behind the wheel.

Are you Cameron Parker? the man asked, with a Cajun accent considerably thicker than anything Cam had ever heard before. It startled him that anybody in this time would know his name, and he was wary.

Who wants to know? he asked. Not rudely, but wary enough to let this person know he wasn’t a fool.

My name’s Damon Doucet. I believe you knew my great-grandfather, Matthieu, the man said, apparently unperturbed by the question. He offered his hand, and then Cameron saw the silver Avengers ring on his left middle finger. He relaxed a bit.

Yeah, I’m Cameron, he confirmed, shaking Damon’s proffered hand. He couldn’t recall ever shaking left-handed, and it felt awkward and unnatural.

"Then you better get in, mon boug. This place won’t be safe to stay for long. Too much radiation out here in No Man’s Land," Damon said. Cameron didn’t need to be asked twice. He left the bike unceremoniously on the side of the road and got in the truck on the passenger side. There was no door handle, but somehow it opened automatically when he touched it.

So how did you know to find me here? Cam asked as soon as they were on the move again.

Oh, we knew you’d be coming today. Grandpa Matthieu left us instructions in the library about what happened and where to find you, Damon said.

You know a lot more than I do, then, Cameron said.

"Ouai, that’s true, but don’t let it trouble you. You’ll learn whatever you need to know soon enough," Damon said sympathetically.

I hope so, Cameron agreed.

You will. Now, we know you’re headed for Mississippi, but in the meantime we think it’s best if you come to my place in Natchitoches for a little while and try to get used to things nowadays before you venture out on your own. That wouldn’t be safe at all, Damon said.

I see, Cameron said, not sure he liked that idea.

It’s up to you, of course, but I can’t tell you enough how much the world has changed from what you remember. Let us help you, and don’t take lightly what you’re dealing with, Damon said earnestly. That made sense, and finally Cameron nodded.

All right, but I have to be in Biloxi by next week, he said.

"No problem at all. But the first thing you need to understand is that these are evil days you’ve come to. It’s not quite so bad here in Brazoria, but as soon as you cross the river you’ll definitely understand," Damon said sadly.

What do you mean? Cameron asked.

I mean you’ll have to watch what you say and take care not to make yourself too obvious. They don’t like troublemakers of any sort, and they’re just as likely to shoot you for spitting gum on the street as for anything else. If you value your life, then it’s best not to make too many waves, Damon said.

Will I even be able to get to Biloxi at all, then? Cameron asked, a bit cowed by such grim words.

"Oh, there’s no problem with that. I can fly you there and then it won’t be a problem," Damon said.

How did things ever get like this, anyway? It seems crazy, Cameron said.

"Ouai, that it does, I’m afraid. But there was a terrible war about thirty years ago, you see, for reasons that hardly even matter anymore. Suffice it to say we had ten years of bloody fighting that soon spilled over into the rest of the world, and when it was all over with we ended up with the situation we have now. Mexico shattered into a thousand pieces, most of Canada absorbed by the new North American Union, and here and there along the outside edge a few little independent countries. Alaska, Brazoria, Quebec, and so forth," Damon sighed.

"But what started it?" Cameron asked.

Just politics, young’un; the same thing that starts all wars. Suffice it to say some people thought the old government in Washington was getting too strong and corrupt, so they called a convention of the states to fire every last blessed one of them and start over from scratch. Perfectly legal thing for them to do, you know, or at least on paper it was. But the powers that be wouldn’t yield, and some folks supported one side and some the other, and I guess in the end they both got what they wanted, sort of. The old guard is stronger than ever in the Union, but the rebels got their way in the parts they managed to break loose, Damon said.

It must have been really bad, Cameron said.

Oh, it was. They even used tactical nukes, lots of places. That’s why it’s not safe to live anywhere between Oklahoma City and Phoenix nowadays; we call it No Man’s Land because of the radiation. We’re on the very edge of that area, right here where we’re driving. I was a pilot the whole time so I never saw much hand-to-hand combat, but I’ve heard stories that would chill your blood. I told you these are bad times you’ve come to, Damon said.

Yeah, I can see that now, Cameron said, appalled.

Things are better than they used to be. There’s peace for the most part, and you’re generally free to say and do whatever you like as long as you don’t criticize the government too much. That’s the most important thing for you to learn before you go anywhere; how to keep a tight rein on your tongue, Damon said.

I’ll try to remember, Cameron said.

"Do more than try, mon boug, or you might not live to regret it," Damon warned solemnly, and that was such an uncomfortable thought that Cameron didn’t want to talk about it anymore.

So what do the Avengers do nowadays? he asked, changing the subject.

Oh, pretty much the same as always. Saving people from harm, like you’re doing with Joan. Thwarting wicked plots, many a time. Laying good plans for the future, as much as that can be known. There’s never been any shortage of evil in the world, I’m afraid; even wars and tyranny are nothing new, Damon said.

I guess not, Cameron agreed.

"Don’t be discouraged, Cam; they say it’s always on the darkest nights that a candle shines the brightest. That’s something we all try to remember, and so should you. Now, I know you won’t be ready to take on any casework yourself till after you’ve been here for a while and had a chance to get to know the other members, but hopefully that’s something we can arrange pretty soon. None of the others live close to me, unfortunately. Luther’s in North Carolina, and then Jennifer is in Florida, along with her little brother Jason. Tyler’s up in Arkansas, and then finally we’ve got another one who’s sort of an honorary member, I guess you could say; Brandon Stone. He’s never actually joined, you understand, but he does work with us a lot," Damon said.

Yeah, that’s understandable. I’m sure there’s plenty of work for all seven of us, Cameron hurried to say, not wanting to rock the boat.

That there is, and more’s the pity. Bran works for the NADF, the North American Defense Forces, just like Luther does, only he’s in secret operations instead of intelligence gathering like Luther. Jennifer does computers and Jason is an engineering student, and then Tyler is a rancher and a part-time agronomy professor. But I think you’ll like all of them, once you get to know them, Damon said.

I’m sure I will, Cameron agreed, thinking silently to himself that the educational level of the members had certainly gone up quite a bit since the old days.

We’re all family to some degree or other, just like it’s mostly always been. Zach and Jolie Trewick were Tyler’s great-grandparents, for example. Luther’s great-grandfather was Jonah Anderson, who was Jolie’s cousin. Jason and Jennifer are my great-aunt Denise’s grandkids, and she was Matthieu’s youngest girl; my grandpa Rusty’s little sister who lived on the Moon for thirty years back when they did the Lunar Terraform Project. And then of course you’re Zach’s third cousin, and even Bran fits in there somehow or other; you’d have to ask him sometime, Damon said. Cameron soon gave up trying to keep all these names and relationships untangled. He’d figure it out later, if it mattered enough.

Yeah, I definitely knew Zach and Jolie. And Matthieu, too, Cameron said wryly. It was sort of unreal, to think he’d soon be working with his friends’ great-grandchildren. He glanced at Damon, and decided there might indeed be a ghost of Matt’s features there. Only the barest wisp of a reminder, to be sure, but the thought made Cameron feel suddenly old in a way he’d never experienced in his life.

Well, good, then. Maybe you and Tyler will have something to talk about. You’ll get to meet up with him soon, I hope; I’ve already assigned him to be your partner while you handle Dr. Garza, since this will be your first major project. I think it’ll be a lot easier if you’ve got some help, and Tyler definitely knows how to take care of himself, Damon said.

I really appreciate that, Cameron said, and he meant it sincerely.

No problem. Wait just a minute while I give him a call and then we’ll see what happens, Damon said. This was no sooner said than done, and ten minutes later Damon hung up the phone and smiled.

He’ll come to the house tomorrow morning sometime, and then I’ll take you both to Biloxi on Tuesday. That’ll give you nearly a week to make whatever plans you might need, Damon said.

About that time they crossed a fence line back into what was apparently settled land. The road was well-maintained, and there were crops in the fields and other signs of civilization. Cam glanced backward to see a big yellow sign beside the road warning people to keep out, but from the tattered condition of the fence and the lack of any blockades it didn’t seem that anybody took the warning very seriously. So much for No Man’s Land.

For the next few hours they drove across the endless plains of north Texas, and Cam spent most of that time talking with Damon to try to understand this strange new world he found himself in. But at last they pulled into the driveway of that big old house he remembered so well, and he was tired enough by then not to want to stay up and socialize.

Coincidentally or not, Damon ended up giving him the same room he’d shared with Matthieu and Zach a thousand times in the past, even though it didn’t look anything like it used to. Matthieu’s bunk beds were gone, replaced at some point with a king-sized waterbed and several shelves of dusty books.

But still, as he lay there in the dark, Cam could almost imagine nothing had changed. He was already beginning to feel the first twinges of homesickness, made worse by the fact that he knew there was nothing at all to be done about it. He couldn’t even make a call or write a letter to help soften the transition a bit. All he could do was remind himself he’d known the price from the start, and try to believe that everything would turn out for the best.

Chapter Two

He slept late the next morning, and when he came out into the upstairs hallway rubbing the sleep out of his eyes and wondering what there might be for breakfast, he suddenly heard voices down in the dining room. Cam quickly shook the last few cobwebs from his mind and then put his shoes on and slicked his hair down with some spit so he’d look at least semi-respectable. Then he went down to see who the visitors were.

A little boy about three years old wearing corduroy overalls was playing with cars on the linoleum, while a man and a woman stood nearby talking to Damon. The kid was almost sugar-blond, except for an odd patch of black hair right above the nape of his neck. He glanced up when he heard Cameron come in, and then ran over and grabbed his mother’s leg, the way little kids do. It reminded Cameron of Josiah, and the memory brought him another poignant twinge of homesickness.

Tyler, Charity, I’d like you to meet Cameron Parker, our long lost member, Damon said, waving a hand at him.

Pleased to meet you, Tyler said, offering a hand, and Cameron came over to shake it before doing the same with Charity. She was occupied with holding her son, but managed to get one hand free.

Say hi, Buzz, she said, talking to the kid. He looked at Cameron for a second, and then hid his face under her chin.

Surely you’re not shy, are you? Cameron asked, amused.

Ha. You better enjoy the silence while it lasts. Once he starts talking he’ll never be quiet again, Tyler said.

Is that really his name? Buzz? Cameron asked.

Well, no. His name’s really Jacob, but we call him that because he’s got that little thatch of black hair back there on the back of his head. Makes him look like a bumblebee, Tyler said, smiling a little.

Cameron studied the man critically and decided he didn’t really look much like Zach, or Jolie either for that matter. He was of average build, with short hair of a nondescript brown and eyes of an unremarkable greenish-blue color. But he did have a strong grip, and he gave off an air of easygoing friendliness that made him very likable.

Charity and Buzz didn’t stay long, and as soon as Tyler had kissed his family goodbye he came back inside to make plans.

Do we know exactly what we’re doing down there? he asked immediately.

Yeah, I’ve got a pretty good idea. I’ve got to be at the front door of the house at exactly 8:34 on Tuesday night. That’s when Dr. Garza will be there. Then I’ll have to shoot him; that’s what I saw through the tachometer, Cameron said.

You have a gun for that? You know they’re not allowed over there across the river, don’t you? It’s a capital offense if you get caught with any kind of firearm in your possession, Tyler said.

But how can that be? I know I saw at least half a dozen people with guns on the way here yesterday, Cameron said, feeling his skin crawl at the thought.

"This is Brazoria, Cam. Things are different here, at least when it comes to that. They want everybody to have guns, because they’re always afraid of getting invaded and they think it might be a deterrent. It’s not like that in the Union. They’ve already got one of the biggest armies in the world, so they don’t need anybody’s help. Quite the opposite, if anything," Tyler said.

Yeah, I keep forgetting it’s not the same country anymore, Cameron said.

You need to work on remembering it. There are times when it can get you killed if you do something stupid like carry a gun in public on the wrong side of the border, Tyler said seriously.

I’ll try to remember, Cameron said.

You better. But that said, I think we can smuggle a pistol down there without too much trouble, especially if Damon flies us most of the way. We’ll have to make sure there’s a silencer if you plan on using it, though. We definitely don’t want to attract any attention, Tyler said.

We can get one at the gun shop downtown, Damon said, and Tyler nodded.

"All right, then. Let’s take