Kain, Dylan, Jaxon, Sullivan, Sid, and Ace poised, ready to jump in. But to their surprise, there was a moment of hesitation from the troops.
“What are you waiting for?” Hank shouted, his voice hoarse. He was dangerously red now, moments away from a coronary, or so it seemed.
“They’re not going to help you,” Caitlin said, holding up the Colt Python in her hand and aiming it at the captain’s face.
A flash of fear flooded his features, then dissolved as a realization dawned over him. “Oh, I see. Can’t play with the big boys, so you need to get old gunny on your side?”
He took a step towards Caitlin and her arm tensed, her finger poised over the trigger.
“You think that shitty butt-plug scares me? They don’t work anymore, hasn’t anyone told you? There’s only one gun left in the whole of the known world that still manages to spit a bullet, and that little toy is locked away safe and sound. Even ol’ Monica is too batshit crazy to put those things back together anymore.”
“I’m going to warn you once…” Caitlin closed one eye and stared down the barrel.
Hank took another step. “Oooh, I’m terrified. Little gunny go boom and it’s all over for Newman? Bring it on, sister. Show me what you got.”
“Final warning.” Caitlin cocked the pistol.
“Sis…” Dylan whispered from the sidelines, but Caitlin didn’t hear. She was in her zone now, locked on the image of Hank’s brains splattering all over the floor in front of her.
That’s if Monica was right and the fucking thing worked.
The next thing she knew, Hank reared up and launched himself at her. His sword fell to the floor as he reached with his hands. She managed to duck her shoulders and move to the side, forcing him to dive over her and land on the floor.
A clap of thunder sounded.
The gunshot rang louder than anything she had ever experienced. The gun sprang back in her hand with the force of the bullet. Everyone nearby ducked and held their hands over their ears.
Caitlin stood over Hank, her arm straight, the gun still aimed high in the air.
He looked at Caitlin with surprise and fear. A dark stain spilled down his trousers and onto the ground as his bladder released its contents.
“Surrender, Captain Newman,” Caitlin said, bringing the gun down to point at the captain once more. “Surrender or die.”
The Gates, Silver Creek, Toronto
Another wave of guards came at them. As a unit, they defended.
Despite having not known many of these guys for long, even Mary-Anne was proud of their efforts. Another guard fell at her feet as she looked around and observed the others.
Belle and Vex had paired up, and their swords were a blur of movement. Ash took down a man with a beard that reached to his knees who charged with what looked to be some kind of dagger-like kitchen utensil. Alice stood not too far away, both hands whirling with her own daggers.
The Revolutionaries shouted, screamed, and roared. It was nearly impossible to think that, just a short while ago, they had been bumbling around in their oppressive regime, merely living their day-to-day lives. Submissive, monotonous, living for the will of the governor.
Now, they were fighting for freedom.
Mary-Anne felt her pride swelling inside her. She brought down another guard effortlessly, then turned to address another when—
Everyone at the gate stopped the moment they heard the gunshot.
“What the hell was that?” someone cried from the crowd.
There was no answer at first. The only sound was the bell continuing its ringing.
Murmurs slowly began to spread as the crowd shifted uneasily. Even the guards had paused and looked around in fear. When was the last time anyone had heard a shot like that ringing through the night? Where had it come from?
What could it mean?
Mary-Anne couldn’t see them directly, but she saw the crowds of townsfolk parting. From somewhere just beyond the crowd, near where the houses and buildings began, they came.
Revolutionaries, guards, and residents lowered their weapons when Caitlin emerged with Jaxon at her side. She was trailed by Kain and Dylan, who dragged a bedraggled Hank by the crooks of his arms. Just behind them were two guards and a ranger who was the size of a house.
Everyone turned to look at them as they passed. The pistol hung in Caitlin’s hand, still smoking from the tip.
When Caitlin and company reached the Revolutionaries, they threw Hank on the ground. Many faces turned to her, some whispering behind the back of their hand to their neighbor. Many of them knew her, but there were some who took a while to recognize her face, remembering Caitlin as the happy little good girl from the district.
“Perfect timing,” Mary-Anne whispered, leaning in close.
“Oh, she’s the queen of it,” Kain replied.
Mary-Anne smirked. “We vamps already have a Queen.”
Caitlin turned to address the crowd. “Citizens of Silver Creek, I am Caitlin Harrison, sister of your ranger captain, and now, your liberator.” She held a hand out to Hank on the floor. “This man and his guards have you blindsided under an oppressive regime of fear and terror. Under the governor’s orders, you hide in your houses and cower behind these walls, but I’m here to tell you that the world outside, as much as it has changed, is still ours to thrive in if we choose to be free.”
“Hear, hear,” Kain murmured.
A portly woman with thick eyebrows stepped forward, curiosity clearly getting the best of her. “And that is a vampire, right?”
Mary-Anne extended her fangs again, and her eyes burned red.
Caitlin laughed. “Yes, Mary-Anne is a vampire. A vampire who saved my life as I have saved hers. We have fought alongside our Revolutionaries for freedom.” She paused, wondering whether now was the time to reveal more. “And this man is also a Werewolf. Kain had been taken by Trisk and forced to transform. Tortured and beaten until the governor took what he wanted, as he does with all of us.”
“Vampires and Weres? Like the stories tell?” A small child spoke, held back at the shoulders by his father.
Kain replied. “Yes, kid. Just like the stories.”
“There was a time”—Mary-Anne spoke now—“when humans, vampires, and Weres existed in harmony. Great cities and towns were founded from the rubble of the old wars, technology thrived, communities were created. With the Madness has come great destruction, and now is a time for change.”
Caitlin held the gun at Hank’s head. He shook and blubbered.
“But it is not from the flowerbed of death that hope can grow,” she said, holstering the gun and stepping back from Hank. “Hank Newman is an asshole who has convinced guards that rape and bullying is an okay way to live. His lies have fed the governor and influenced his ways for as long as we have lived. Yet, now, Hank Newman, as an example of the new order, I offer you the choice of life or death.”
Hank looked confused.
“Either stand with us as a changed captain in the new world. Or be set free into the wilds to seek a new destiny,” she finished, motioning to the hole in the gates.
Hank got to his feet, his eyes wide. All eyes were fixed on him, the man who many of the townspeople had come to think of as their savior and protector. Now revealed as nothing more than a twisted liar, he’d been offered a chance at redemption by one of their own folk.
He drew his sword, and there was an audible gasp. Caitlin saw the father of the child covering his eyes.
Hank bent to one knee and held his sword in his hands. “By my honor, my life, my freedom, I swear—”
“Watch out!” someone called from the crowd as Hank’s other hand moved to a dagger by his waist. He struck out with a violent oath.
But the person in the crowd needn’t have shouted. Caitlin was already one step ahead, and with a movement that seemed too fast for a human to make, she drew her own sword and thrust it down with all her might. The metal drove into the flesh, stopping at the bone. She cried out
, pulled the sword back, and with a final effort, lopped off Hank’s head. It made a sound that sent a shiver running down the spines of many, and his body collapsed in a spray of dark blood.
Mary-Anne licked her lips.
“Not now,” Kain reminded her quietly.
“I guess he chose death,” Caitlin said, her voice loud enough for all to hear.
There was a rumble of whispering, then a gaggle of laughs. At the front of the crowd, a handsome man with clothes that were ripped and tatty stepped forward, his eyes fixed on Hank. He stopped a couple of feet away, took a deep sniff, coughed up some phlegm, and spat on Hank’s body.
“That prick has been harassing my missus for years.”
Another man stepped forward and spat on Hank. “He’s been stealing my linens.”
One-by-one, more people came. Caitlin was surprised to see the joy on their faces as each person revealed a snippet of their lives and how Hank had abused, tortured, or harassed many of the folks of Silver Creek. One old man told the story of how Hank had once beaten both him and his late wife, all because they accidentally made him spill his beer.
The old man hugged Caitlin, turned, and pumped his fist in the air.
“Freedom!” he shouted, his voice raspy and worn.
“Freedom!” came the echoes of the crowd. Even the guards seemed relieved, pumping their fists and approaching the group who, just moments ago, they had been set on fighting. They clapped Vex and Ash on the backs, hugged Belle and Alice—hell, even Mary-Anne got some sugar from those who were brave enough to approach.
Jaxon barked loudly and hopped around Caitlin in all the excitement. Faces that she had known for years now saw her for the first time. Dylan wrapped his arm around her and kissed her cheek.
“You’ve done a great thing, sis. Ma and Da would be proud.”
Caitlin blushed and hugged her brother tight. “There’s just one more thing I need to do,” she said, looking out at the town.
Her gazed focused on the governor’s quarters.
Chapter Twenty-Five
The Governor’s Quarters, Silver Creek
Caitlin sat in the middle of Trisk’s quarters, steaming in her anger.
The governor had gone. Of course, he had. He’d run away when the shit hit the fan and disappeared to Lord only knew where.
Stupid son of a freakin’ whore damn bag-ass bandit bitch!
Though she held a huge sense of satisfaction at liberating her hometown that night, the fact that Trisk had fled certainly tarnished that victory.
There came a knock at the door. For a heartbeat of a second, she thought it might be him returning to the scene of the crime.
Instead, Dylan poked his head around the corner. “He’s gone, hasn’t he?”
Caitlin nodded. “Lard-ass chicken breath smelled the first sign of danger and fled.”
“Pussy,” Dylan said.
“Pussy,” Caitlin agreed.
“Sounds like my kind of party!” Kain said, entering without knocking. Mary-Anne followed behind.
“Let me guess,” Mary-Anne said in the calculated way she always had. “The big kahuna took to his feet the minute that shit got hard?”
Caitlin nodded.
“If only you knew where he was going to go next,” Kain mused, tapping his fingers against a table where a faded yellow piece of parchment crackled beneath his fingers.
Caitlin stood up and paced the room. “If the governor had New Leaf and Silver Creek, who’s to say he doesn’t have more towns out there? More settlements where he can run to and hide? Who’s to say that there aren’t more lives out there that we can save?”
“Hear, hear,” Mary-Anne said.
Kain continued tapping the paper, resting his head on his hand. “If only there were a map or something written down that would tell us exactly where Trisk could have gone.”
“Yes, Kain,” Mary-Anne said, annoyance growing in her voice. “That would be abso-fucking-lutely perfect. Now can you stop with the tapping for a second?”
Kain raised his eyebrows and shrugged. “Sure thing. Whoops!”
He batted the parchment off the table, and the four of them watched it float like a leaf to the floor.
Caitlin’s eyes widened.
There, sketched in faded ink on the paper, was a map. In the center was Silver Creek, with dotted lines spidering out, one leading to New Leaf, another with ‘Toronto’ in large letters, and others leading to towns Caitlin had never heard of.
“The governor’s reign…” Caitlin whispered.
“What are those?” Dylan said, pointing to small symbols that dotted the paper. They were written in fresher ink than the rest, suggesting they’d been added much more recently.
Kain pointed to a symbol of a full moon with a man silhouetted in its light. “Weres…”
Mary-Anne spotted a symbol of a skull with fangs and red eyes. “Vampires.”
Dylan held the map up for them all to see. “Holy shit. Trisk has been tracking Weres and vamps?”
“We have to find them. We have to save them all from his clutches.”
The others nodded, steel determination on their faces. Though Caitlin knew little of Weres and vamps beyond what she had learned from Mary-Anne and Kain, she suspected that there was a large chance that these would be hiding too. Scared and in the clutches of a world fallen to the Madness. The last thing they needed was an obese madman to round them up and gather them for his own purposes.
What they needed was a savior, a protector.
What they needed was Caitlin and her Revolutionaries.
FINIS
More from Dan Willcocks
THEY FIGHT. THEY LIVE. THEY ROT.
Eight years ago, an infection hit London, before spreading outwards. 90% of the population was either contained by the military, trampled during the riots, or infected by the disease.
A disease that came to be known as The Rot.
Colin Bolton survived the incident but not without losing everything he held dear to him – his life, his love, and his humanity.
Now, he’s living at a farmhouse, acting as a bodyguard for a new surrogate family. Life is stable. He’s making do. He’s surviving. That is… until a vagrant scavenger comes knocking at the door, desperate for food and water.
An encounter that will spin Colin’s life into chaos once more, bringing him face to face with a murderous family, the dead and the dying, and the failures of his past.
THEY ROT is the first book in a brutal new series of post-apocalyptia set in Great Britain. It’s brought to you by Willcocks and Kondor, two of the groundbreaking authors behind the iTunes chart-busting podcast, The Other Stories, and the story studio, Hawk & Cleaver - A digital story studio bringing you the best new stories to watch, read, sniff, and absorb.
Available at Amazon
Author’s Notes - Dan Willcocks
August 3, 2018
What a friggin’ blast this has been!
Wait… I can swear in these notes, too? Fucking sweet…
I’ve been aware of Mr Anderle’s work with the Kurtherian Gambit Universe for quite some time now. After discovering the cheeky video in which Michael leaks all of his dirty writing secrets to the world (you know, the one you said you’d never intended to release, Michael), I was quick to shoot a message over to my regular co-author and co-host of my podcast for writers (links at the end of these notes) to invite Michael on to the show.
We had a great time chatting for nearly an hour about all things Kurtherian and, in my cheeky, no messing around, British way, after the show I shot Michael a message and asked if there’d be a spot available to get some gritty horror written into the Kurtherian Gambit Universe.
“What’s your favourite genre to write in?” Michael asks.
“Horror, first and foremost,” I reply. “Then apocalyptic.”
“Hmm,” Michael says, metaphorically stroking his chin. “Perhaps we may have something in the future. But that part isn’t quite ready yet.”
To say that I was intrigued was a lie. I knew Michael was busy kicking Kurtherian ass and dominating the charts, so I thought nothing more of it. It wasn’t until September of 2017 when Michael, Chris, and Lee slid into my DMs (giggedy) and asked me to get involved in the Age of Madness.
“So, we’re basically, like, thinking of, like, making zombies and, like, stuff, but with, like, kickass characters and, like, it’s going to be, like awesome,” I remember Chris saying in a voice which reminded me of a high school girl…
Maybe I’m remembering this wrong… sorry Chris!
Anyway, I was hooked in from the word ‘zombies’.
I’ve always loved a bit of the old gore and blood, though I’m not really sure why. One theory used to be that I was a psychopath (don’t worry, I’ve since been tested and it’s only partly true). But now I’m beginning to think that maybe I’m just in love with the darker side of life. There’s something strange that draws me to zombies—check out my book ‘They Rot’ for a glimpse at spore-like zombies which breed in cocoons—and getting the chance to thread them further into the KGU is exciting, to say the least.
The Age of Madness will fill in a lot of gaps in the timeline, and I’m having a blast adding my spin into the tale. Hopefully you will have enjoyed the beginning of Caitlin’s story, and will want to read more (because, whether you like it or not, more is coming… mwahahaha!). There’s a lot yet to cover, and there’s every chance that you may see the return of some of your favourite characters from fellow authors’ series (or descendants/relatives thereof). I won’t reveal much more yet as I slave away to the end of book 3, but let me say in my cheeky, British tone: you’re in for a right treat, Guv’nor.
Oh, and one last thing before I bid thee farewell. A huge thank you to everyone who has been involved so far in making these books what they have become. Though mine and Michael’s names are on the cover, the support and guidance from Michael, Chris & Lee in the creation of this age, as well as the incredible artwork from the amazing Mihaela, the editing prowess of Lynn and Nat, the camaraderie of HJ, the attention to detail of Steve and, overall, the overwhelming support of you. The readers and the fans.
Dawn of Chaos: Age Of Madness - A Kurtherian Gambit Series (The Caitlin Chronicles Book 1) Page 24