Into The Fire
The Caitlin Chronicles Book Two
Daniel Willcocks
Michael Anderle
Into The Fire (this book) is a work of fiction.
All of the characters, organizations, and events portrayed in this novel are either products of the author’s imagination or are used fictitiously. Sometimes both.
Copyright © 2018 Daniel Willcocks, Michael Anderle, CM Raymond, and LE Barbant
Cover by Mihaela Voicu http://www.mihaelavoicu.com/
Cover copyright © LMBPN Publishing
LMBPN Publishing supports the right to free expression and the value of copyright. The purpose of copyright is to encourage writers and artists to produce the creative works that enrich our culture.
The distribution of this book without permission is a theft of the author’s intellectual property. If you would like permission to use material from the book (other than for review purposes), please contact [email protected]. Thank you for your support of the author’s rights.
LMBPN Publishing
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Las Vegas, NV 89109
First US edition, August 2018
The Kurtherian Gambit (and what happens within / characters / situations / worlds) are copyright © 2015-2018 by Michael T. Anderle and LMBPN Publishing.
Contents
Chapter 1
Chapter 2
Chapter 3
Chapter 4
Chapter 5
Chapter 6
Chapter 7
Chapter 8
Chapter 9
Chapter 10
Chapter 11
Chapter 12
Chapter 13
Chapter 14
Chapter 15
Chapter 16
Chapter 17
Chapter 18
Chapter 19
Chapter 20
Chapter 21
Chapter 22
Chapter 23
Chapter 24
Epilogue
Author’s Notes - Dan Willcocks
Author Notes - Michael Anderle
Other Books by Daniel Willcocks
Books by Michael Anderle
Connect with the authors
Into The Fire Team
Thanks to the JIT Readers
Kim Boyer
Mary Morris
Micky Cocker
If we’ve missed anyone, please let us know!
Editor
Lynne Stiegler
For the Willcocks five.
—Dan
To Family, Friends and
Those Who Love
To Read.
May We All Enjoy Grace
To Live The Life We Are
Called.
—Michael
Chapter One
Silver Creek, Old Ontario
Caitlin woke to something she never thought she’d ever say.
“Hoooly fuck. That is one comfy-ass bed.”
She sat up, delighting in the soft linens stroking her body, and for the first time ever, agreed with the bastard of an ex-governor on something. Living in luxury was goddamn nice compared to the conditions she’d lived in her whole life—and that was something she could now share with the rest of the town.
After taking down Trisk, the first thing Caitlin had done was open his quarters up to Silver Creek’s poor and homeless. The luxurious rooms decorated in golds and finery now hosted souls who were infinitely happier out of the cold and inside the warmth.
Caitlin had wanted to head back to her own, simple home with Dylan. But the townspeople were having none of it.
“Don’t be silly,” Mother Wendy said as Caitlin argued the point. “If you want to be treated like a leader, people need to see you as the leader. Go. Take it. You’ve earned it.”
And who was Caitlin to argue?
Not that she intended to enjoy the luxury forever, mind. She still had a job to do, and she still had a governor to track down. Plus, if everything went according to plan, the entire world would someday live like this. Not merely one man selfishly hoarding all the goods.
It had been several days since Caitlin had led her Revolutionaries—a group of folks she had liberated from a small hamlet under the governor’s rule, which also included a friggin’ vampire and a werewolf—to Silver Creek to topple the governor’s regime of bullying and oppression. That was something she had never truly set out to do when she became one of the first female rangers to join a night-time mission into the Mad-infested wilds.
Though she had been chased by what everyone was calling zombies—Mad-infected humans with glowing red eyes and a taste for human flesh—and had lost her friend in the process, she had found a calling in her life which she never knew existed.
Caitlin took to the role of leader as easily as the Mad took to chasing anything with blood pulsing around its body.
Caitlin stretched, rose reluctantly from the bed, and the covers slipped off her like water. She walked over to the window where a thick curtain was drawn, its corners moth-eaten and faded. They made a stark contrast to the rest of the governor’s finery. She pulled them open and looked out over the town—her town.
Silver Creek was a wooden fortress of sorts. It provided a safe haven for those who lived inside its walls, wishing for protection against the Mad who roamed the pines and foliage beyond. Though dusk was falling and the last rays of the sun stroked the canopy of trees, along the tops of the parapets, she spied the silhouettes of guards, armed with bows and arrows, ready to take down any Mad who might decide to take a chance and charge the walls.
On the ground level, she could see the market square. Folks wandered to and fro, haggling and bargaining, all with smiles on their faces. Caitlin felt her own smile grow. Barely weeks before, she had been down there amongst them, never quite feeling at peace. Never quite feeling at home. Now that the governor had fled and his number one henchman had been killed—his own fault, really, for trying to turn me into a lamb kebab—there was an air of calm around the town. It was nice. It almost made Caitlin feel like she could stay there forever.
Almost.
Except she still had a job to do.
Even though peace had been restored to the town and the guard force now accepted both men and women under the careful watch of the new captain of the guard—her brother, Dylan—Caitlin felt a distinct restlessness.
The governor was a madman. A disgusting, obese, jellied excuse for a human. She still remembered how she felt when she had punched him, and he had tossed her back. His foul stench as he leered at Caitlin and told her she was dispensable still lingered unpleasantly in her memory. She had simply been another tool for him to play his power games with. For Trisk, her life had no meaning whatsoever.
And he was still out there, somewhere out in the wilds, oppressing, hurting, and manipulating.
That was something that Caitlin couldn’t allow.
If only she had a map which detailed the extent of his reign of terror. She needed something which showed the direction of the other small towns and villages within the governor’s rule. The reality was that there were places Caitlin had never imagined existed outside Silver Creek’s borders. She was told that the world had died and her town was practically the last one standing.
Perhaps even a map which identified places where possible Weres and vamps—though they were few and far between these days—potentially still existed in the vicinity. Only a couple of weeks ago, Caitlin had thought th
em to be fairytales until she met one of each.
Oh, wait!
Kain had found a map nestled clumsily on the top of a dresser unit in Trisk’s living room.
Shit-eating idiot.
Armed with that knowledge and having had a taste of the world beyond Silver Creek’s borders, Caitlin wanted to see more of it. To feel the freedom of travel and see new things. Her heart thumped with excitement.
It was almost dark. Almost time to wake the vamp and the Were and get to work. But first, there was someone else she needed to see.
Caitlin got herself dressed, placed her silver-tipped sword at her side, and headed into the town.
“Dylan, wake up,” Caitlin said, shoving her brother playfully but so hard that he had to grab onto the sides of his bed to keep from falling off. “It’s morning.”
Her walk across town had left her in a good mood. It was nice to see so many people smiling as she made her way to her old home in the suburbs, which Dylan refused to leave. She had given him the option of sleeping in comfort in one of the governor’s other rooms or staying in their old quarters and, true to his nature, he had chosen home.
Dylan rubbed his eyes and looked out his bedroom window to the bruised colors of the sky. The moon already peeked wanly over the treetops, pale and watery against the muted shades of nightfall.
“In a manner of speaking, I suppose it is morning.”
Dylan was nocturnal, still on “ranger time.” As the former captain of the rangers, it had been his job to traverse the forests at night with his crew and eliminate any hordes of Mad which may have stumbled through the forest to make their way to Silver Creek. They hadn’t seen any bandits in the forest in years, but the rangers also kept an eye open for them or other dangerous creatures which posed a threat.
Since he had taken over as captain of the guard, Dylan had tried to adjust to now working to daylight hours, but clearly, he still struggled with the change.
It didn’t help, Caitlin realized, that she and their wolf friend, Kain, maintained the night time schedule for the sake of the vampire she had rescued. Mary-Anne had quickly become one of her most trusted friends, but it did mean a reversed routine if they were to spend time together.
Caitlin hit Dylan with a pillow, then ran from the room. With a chuckle, he gave chase.
She couldn’t remember the last time they’d played with such carefree abandon. Before Ma and Da passed, perhaps? As they laughed and chased each other around their poor excuse for a house, a small part of Caitlin begged for her not to leave. To stay and keep watch over the town.
It could be like this. Fun and simple and easy. What are you leaving for?
But she knew that could never happen. Not now. Not really.
“Do you really have to go, sis? You’ve proven your point to the town. You can handle yourself against the Mad. Stay here with me, let’s lead together. Me and you, bringing happiness and peace to Silver Creek.”
“N’aww, ickle Dylan is going to miss his wittle sister too much?” Caitlin teased, looking down her nose at her brother.
Dylan raised an eyebrow and waited.
She sighed and put the pillow down. Jaxon, their black-eyed German Shepherd, entered the room, looked up at Caitlin, barked, and sprinted over. She bent down and stroked his back. Her affection for the pooch had grown stronger after seeing Jaxon’s loyalty over the last few weeks. She would never forget how he had chased her halfway through the woods and saved her from several attacks.
“You know I have to go, Dill. It’s not a case of proving myself. It never has been,” she said. It was strange to feel like they’d swapped roles. Not too long ago, she had been concerned for her brother’s welfare when he had been unlawfully imprisoned by the governor. “There are people out there under Trisk’s thumb who may be in worse situations than we were. That map showed other towns, other villages, and other lives. Who knows what kind of squalor they’re living in? There’ll be no happiness and no peace until the wider world is fixed and free.”
Dylan raised an eyebrow. “And it’s got nothing to do with the fact you have unfinished business with the man?”
Caitlin feigned a thoughtful face. “Erm…well…maybe a little. But mostly the freedom thing.” She smiled, then hopped over to the door. “C’mon, the whole town will be waiting for us.”
Dylan disappeared into his room and emerged a few moments later in his traveling cloak. He did his best to hide the armor of the guards he wore beneath it. As captain, it was now his duty to wear the same uniformed protection as the rest of his crew. Caitlin could just make out the embossed markings across the front of his chest—a large, wide leaf with a waterfall pouring down its middle and off the tip.
The emblem of Silver Creek.
“Looking sharp there, Hank,” Caitlin said, poking her tongue out. Hank Newman had been the former captain, a terrible man whom Caitlin had been forced to kill when he had attacked her directly after she had offered him life.
Dylan stuck his middle finger up in response.
“Hey, that’s no way to treat a lady,” a voice called from the corner of the room where a large casket now lay open. Mary-Anne sat upright, looking at them both.
“A lady? Have you met Cat?”
“She may be rougher than a straw jumper, but she’s still a lady,” Mary-Anne said. “So if you don’t put that finger down, I’m going to bite off the tip and use it as a straw.”
Caitlin laughed, knowing that Mary-Anne’s humor had a tendency to make people feel uncomfortable, but she didn’t often mean it. Dylan, meanwhile, went pale. His laugh sounded hollow.
He hadn’t quite gotten used to the vampire yet, though he tried to pretend otherwise.
They made their way across Silver Creek, Jaxon trotting excitedly at their heels. It was a clear night, which worked perfectly for Monica Chapman’s plan to host a farewell meal on behalf of the entire town.
Monica had really come out of her shell since the liberation of Silver Creek. Seen by many before as nothing more than a deranged lunatic who had lost her husband when Hank shot him with one of what they believed to be the only working guns left in existence, she had taken to a hermit’s lifestyle. What no one knew, however, was that she’d worked in secret on the spares and parts of guns and weapons of the old world that her husband had salvaged during his lifetime.
Caitlin and Kain couldn’t believe the number of weapons she had hidden in the basement beneath her house. Whether they all worked or not was a different matter, but the Colt Python she had given Caitlin to aid her in her quest to topple Trisk’s regime had worked a treat.
Granted, she had only used one bullet, and that had been shot into the sky rather than at Hank’s face. She preferred to play pokey-pokey with her sword rather than bang-bang-gunpowder with explosives.
But now, as they heard voices and rounded the corner, they could see the old woman bustling up and down the lengths of the long benches with a large pot in one hand and a ladle in the other. Her hair, which had previously been a mass of gray frizz, was now tied back in a ponytail, and though her smile was nearly toothless, she grinned more broadly than any other time Caitlin had ever seen her.
The benches were packed. There was a smaller table at the head of them all where Alice, Ash, Kain, and Sullivan already sat. Ash and Alice were deep in conversation, their heads a hair’s breadth away from each other as they went all gooey and romantic on each other. A match made in heaven, really, but it still made Caitlin feel queasy.
It was Kain who first saw them approach. He stood up, looking like a changed man in his fresh clothes with his hair combed and washed. Though his face was still a mass of scars, from afar, he almost looked like a normal human being and not a scraggly, skinny wolf-man ripped from the wilds.
He bashed his hands on the table hard several times to grab everyone’s attention.
“Hey, fuckwads!” he boomed. Caitlin rolled her eyes and laughed. Kain always did have a way with words. “Your guest of honor has arrived.”
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“Hear, hear!” came the shouts and claps of the townspeople. Several stood and raised their cups, sloshing dark liquid everywhere.
Caitlin felt herself blushing. Everyone joined in: rangers, former guards, current guards, carpenters, traders, blacksmiths, and friends and neighbors she had known for years. Though she had never chosen her path for glory, she had to admit, it was nice to feel appreciated for her work and to know that she had done something good for the betterment of her hometown.
This was what it was all for. This was how life should be. Not only for her but for everyone both inside and outside of the walls.
The food was as great as it could ever have been. Though provisions were still scarce, the townspeople, led by Monica, really went all out in putting together the best meals they possibly could. Caitlin felt slightly guilty eating, knowing that the town would have to spend several weeks on tighter rations to manage this feast, but it was all worth it to see people’s happiness. There were even plenty of scraps which Caitlin fed to Jaxon who had taken residence under the table.
“Hey, stop wasting food on the dog,” Kain said, ripping a chicken leg to shreds with his teeth.
“Why? You’re eating it, aren’t you, Pooch?” Caitlin retorted.
Into The Fire: Age Of Madness - A Kurtherian Gambit Series (The Caitlin Chronicles Book 2) Page 1