The Caitlin Chronicles Boxed Set

by Michael Anderle

  “What does it matter if they’re dead?” Alice called, appearing a moment later around the corner of the doorframe now wearing her traveling gear—a dark green cloak with riding boots on her feet. “The governor’s a prick. The guards are pricks. I say slay all men.”

  Caitlin raised her eyebrows.

  “I mean all of his men,” Alice corrected.

  “The governor may be a prick, but that doesn’t mean that all his men are bastards. They may just be following orders. Ain’t that right, gentlemen?” The guards answered with the heavy breaths of sleep. “Besides, my brother is…was…the captain of the Silver Creek rangers. All his duties operate under Trisk’s orders. You think he and his men should die too?”

  Alice’s head sunk. “I didn’t mean—”

  “That’s right. If we were to take down all the men, there’d be hardly anyone left to defend our people. I still believe that honor, loyalty, and bravery exist. All we have to do is remove the oppressors and chaos will no longer reign. In its place will be honor.”

  Caitlin finished polishing her sword and threw the cloth onto the table. A second later, she noticed one of the guards suddenly wake and struggle against his bonds. He was trying to shout, though the gag did a great job of muting any sense from his words.

  “What does he want?” Alice asked.

  Mary-Anne bit her lip. They could hear her stomach rumbling again. “Eurgh. And I’d just forgotten about lunch.”

  “Did you not get enough the first time?” Alice asked.

  Caitlin ignored them both and wandered over to the guard. She held the gag in one hand and whispered, “Any shouting or funny business, and I’ll find another excuse to get my blade dirty.” She removed the gag when he nodded frantically.

  “You’re the ranger captain’s sister?” the guard managed, trying to catch his breath. The man beside him woke at his words, realized where he was, and had a moment of panic. He looked at the guard now talking to Caitlin and shook his head, indicating that he should shut up.

  Caitlin rolled her eyes and said, “I am. What of it?”

  “Let me free, and I’ll tell you what I know.” His eyes were fearful, already knowing that he was pushing his luck.

  “You’re hardly in a position to make a bargain,” Caitlin said, kneeling beside him and pressing the tip of her sword against the guard’s spine until the skin dented inwards. “Now, what about my brother?”

  Prison District, Silver Creek

  Dylan woke with a start, though he wasn’t sure why.

  In his dream, he had been free. He had returned to his place as the ranger captain, only the guards did not exist. Silver Creek was his town to rule, and he did so with the opposite attitude to the present governor. The streets were full of smiling individuals. Trade routes had been established with far-off towns and villages and were monitored and protected by his people.

  The world looked set to rebuild in a blazing demonstration of glory.

  Not like the shit reality of what life really was. Dylan didn’t know much of what lay beyond the boundaries of his patrol, but dear Lord, did he wish he did. Maybe somewhere out there was a true governor—one with honor. A real leader with the ability to show compassion and trust the men who served him. A governor who didn’t flaunt his riches and his women or stay tucked away aside from the occasion once a week in which he emerged from behind his wall of guards.

  Guards led by Hank Newman.

  Haaaaank.

  Oh, the power one guard could have over Dylan’s honor.

  As day passed into night into day, Dylan had no idea of the turning of the world outside. All he could do was stew in his anger, plotting for the moment he could do what Kain had done and break free. Not only had he seen a vampire in the last week, he had now also seen a werewolf.

  What the fuck was the world coming to?

  What was real?

  During the hours spent drifting between sleep, talking to the guards—who seemed to have livened up somewhat since Kain’s escape—and eating the tiny morsels of food given to him, he plotted his escape. He kept himself in control by planning what he would do the moment he emerged into the sunshine and confronted the governor, likely killing Hank along the way.

  Yeah… That’d be perfect.

  And then there was his sister. Somewhere out in the wilds was Caitlin, with the vamp. He wasn’t sure how he knew she was okay, but he didn’t feel too worried about her. Something deep inside told him that she knew how to hold her own. Something in the encounter with the vampire in the manor told Dylan that she wasn’t out to kill.

  Why else would she have given Caitlin the silver sword?

  Yep. His sister was a strong one, though he couldn’t entirely imagine what she’d be up to right now. Whatever it was, the only thing he knew for certain was that it would be better than this. Anything was better than wasting away in the dark, waiting in the stink of urine, hay, and vomit without knowing whether it was night or day outside.

  Dylan closed his eyes once more, rested his head back, and drifted between the darkness of reality and sleep.

  New Leaf, Silver Creek Forest

  “Imprisoned?” Spittle flew from Caitlin’s lips. Rage burned inside her as she threw her hands behind her head and marched through the town. She had no idea where she was going, only that what the guard had told her seemed nearly impossible to comprehend.

  “Caitlin, calm down. You’re going to wake the town up.” Alice ran along beside her, casting furtive glances at nearby windows as if afraid of peeping eyes or lights turning on. Despite the noise Caitlin made, it was oddly quiet.

  “So what? Maybe this town needs a little wake-up call.” Caitlin simply couldn’t get her head around it. So, Trisk had locked Dylan away?

  How was that fair?

  Did that mean that he would live up to his promise? That it would only be a matter of time before they sent Dylan to the chopper?

  Something didn’t quite add up. Caitlin knew that the man had ordered them to return with Mary-Anne under pain of death, but she had figured that he might be more lenient towards Dylan after finding out that Caitlin had saved her.

  There was nothing he could do. Dylan knew that. Sullivan knew that. Hank…

  Hank.

  Caitlin felt her teeth grinding against each other.

  “So what are you going to do?” Mary-Anne asked. “Shout and roar until you draw the Mad to the town? Until the governor’s men know exactly where you are and what your weakness is?”

  Caitlin spun on her heels. “The guard will already have told them where we are by now. And besides, I have no weakness.”

  To her surprise, Mary-Anne laughed. “Yes, you do.”

  “No, I don’t.”

  “Your weakness is your family.”

  Caitlin’s face dropped. She looked down at Jaxon, her heart stirring. Mary-Anne was right. If Trisk’s guards were to suddenly arrive now, they would know that the one way to get to her would be through holding her brother as a bargaining chip. If she wanted to get him back and overthrow the town, she’d not only need help, but she’d need to keep her emotions as contained as possible.

  “What is it that you suggest?” Caitlin asked, staring at her unexpected mentor for answers.

  To her surprise, it wasn’t Mary-Anne who answered.

  “We suggest you get the fuck out of our village, little girl.” The voice came as if from nowhere. Then a figure emerged from around the back of a nearby house.

  The man was stocky with a bald head. He wore nothing but shorts and a vest top. He patted a length of two-by-four against his palm in a gesture that needed no translation.

  Another man emerged, this one small and thin with a rat-like face. “Yeah, I think you’ve caused quite enough trouble here. Why don’t you zip up your vagina and return to the woods, little nymph?”

  A third appeared, his face hard and sullen. “Yeah…so…fuck off.”

  The first man rolled his eyes and whacked the third man’s shoulder. “Jesu
s, Chris. Real fucking smooth.”

  “Hey…” Chris complained.

  “Leave him alone, he’s only trying,” the rat-man muttered.

  Jaxon growled.

  Caitlin squared her shoulders and planted her feet in the way Mary-Anne had taught her in training. Rule number 101. Or 106…or something.

  Mary-Anne stepped up to her side, followed shortly by Alice. Three men against two women and a vampire.

  Caitlin grinned. I fucking like those odds.

  “What seems to be the problem, fellas?” Mary-Anne asked.

  “She’s talking to us as if she’s people.” The bald guy cricked his neck.

  “Don’t act like you’ve got nothing to hide. I saw you…vampire,” the rat-man said, flinching as he spoke.

  “I told you we’d deal with the problem later,” Mary-Anne said to Caitlin.

  Caitlin grinned and turned her attention back to the three men.

  “Look, you’ve picked the wrong night, gentlemen. I’m already all kinds of pissed off with a reserve tank of ass-kicking waiting to unleash on whoever gets in my way.” She pointed at the men and counted, “One. Two. Three. Haven’t really got too much of a leg to stand on now, do we? And, as you so politely pointed out, one of our three is a vampire, too.”

  Andy chuckled and furrowed his brow. “Oh, if only it were three.”

  More men, and even a few women, emerged from the shadows. Women who Caitlin didn’t recognize from earlier, burly, hardened women with scars across their bodies and stakes and kitchen utensils in their hands. By the time they all moved close enough to be seen, around twenty people were hemming them in, all with evil smirks on their faces.

  They were a strange bunch, Caitlin thought. There she was, looking to head out on the road and leave the town anyway so she could get back to Dylan, but they were stopping her from leaving to make her leave.

  “Ladies,” Caitlin muttered, just loud enough for Mary-Anne and Alice to hear her. “Formation.”

  They stood back to back. Caitlin drew her sword and locked eyes with the bald guy, his men, and the several others now at his side. Alice held two small knives in her hands. Though she had yet to test her skills as a bladeswoman, something told Caitlin that she’d be more than okay.

  Mary-Anne turned her attention to a group of women. Caitlin looked them over quickly—butch-looking in their appearance, with pots, pans, and some silverware in their hands. She held no weapon herself, but then, with fangs like those, who needed weapons?

  “Last chance to back down,” Caitlin said with terrifying certainty. A couple of people encircling them shuffled their feet and glanced sideways.

  Caitlin whispered to the others. “Remember. Do nothing unless they make the first move.”

  Alice and Mary-Anne nodded.

  Suddenly, everyone turned when a woman to Caitlin’s left roared loudly and threw what was in her hand. It glinted in the moonlight, spinning over and over to land several feet in front of Caitlin on the grass. She looked at the nine-inch fire poker, then back at the woman.

  Caitlin sighed. “I guess that’s it, then.”

  “Bring it on, fuckers!” Mary-Anne roared, ducking as a rock flew towards her face. A second later, three men charged at her. Her eyes burned bright red in the night as she sprinted towards them. They only had a chance for, “What the—” before Mary-Anne had them by the hair and tossed them against the side of the house.

  There was an audible sound of their heads hitting wood before they each slumped unconscious on the floor.

  A large woman with bright red lips gasped, then grabbed the fork that was in one of her hands and stabbed it instinctively into Mary-Anne’s arm. The vampire grunted as it drove into her skin, then saw the pan in the woman’s other hand, tore it from her grasp, and smashed her over the head with it.

  She grinned and looked down at the dazed woman. “Maybe you should’ve come up with a better pan?” Mary-Anne said, chuckling.

  She turned her attention to her arm where the three prongs of the fork stuck into her skin. Without hesitation, she grabbed the fork’s handle and yanked it. A small trickle of dark blood fell and clotted on her clothes.

  “Vampire blood?” a small man who looked of around sixteen years said in awe. “I’ve read about that. The healing properties. Isn’t that supposed to—”

  “No,” Mary-Anne said sharply. “If you even think of drinking this shit, I’ll sneak under your bed in the middle of the night and make it so you can never tug yourself off again. You hear me?”

  The fellow nodded, then ran away.

  Alice, meanwhile, was struggling. Her daggers were already slick with blood, but where Mary-Anne had the strength that came with the vampiric nanocytes in her bloodstream, Alice did not.

  “A little help here?” She choked, a thick arm around her neck as the man attempted to throttle her. Her scream turned to a hoarse whisper, and out of sheer panic she drove her dagger down into man’s leg. He roared in her ear, his grasp weakening. But still, he held her in place.

  The man’s eyes widened at a loud bark. Brown and black fur blurred as Jaxon leapt, sinking his teeth into the man’s throat.

  The assailant let go, his screams a gurgle of horror. Jaxon held on, growling and twisting his head side-to-side until a nice big chunk of the man came with him and he dropped back onto the ground with ease.

  “Cheers, pooch,” Alice said, her chest rising and falling rapidly as she drew back the air she had lost.

  Jaxon barked as if in response, then dodged as a woman with thick blonde hair dived at him in a fashion that made Alice think of what she had seen of people wrestling pigs. The woman splatted onto the ground, breathless, leaving Alice to drive a boot into her face and make the bitch see stars.

  “I think we make a helluva team,” she smirked at Jaxon, immediately turning her attention to another guy now charging for her.

  “Back off! He’s mine!” came Caitlin’s call across the battle. She looked back at Alice with a smile before turning and swinging her sword in an impressive arc that split the block of two-by-four the bald guy had tried to hit her with.

  He looked at his hands in alarm, then at the sword. When Caitlin first drew the weapon, he had obviously thought of it as nothing more than a plaything.

  Chris and the rat-man’s faces dropped as quickly as the bald guy’s. They looked at each other, silently communicating some kind of signal before they both advanced on Caitlin.

  Whether it was fear or loyalty driving them, Caitlin didn’t know. She thought perhaps stupidity, above all. Who would attack her after seeing her sword?

  She sighed, finding this fight harder than any fight she’d had with the Mad. These were real people, now, not mindless zombies. She wished she could talk sense into them, but the three advancing on her were gunning for the kill.

  She walked backward until she felt the house behind her. She was trapped with the three now feet away from her. Behind them, she could see Mary-Anne, Alice, and Jaxon engaged in their own fights.

  “Aw, the itsy-bitsy spider is now trapped against the wall,” the bald guy said, pulling a rusty knife from his pocket. Chris chuckled at his side while the rat-man watched.

  “This is your final warning,” Caitlin said, standing straight and holding her sword in both hands. “Back the fuck away, before I teach myself how to play golf with your head.”

  The bald guy laughed, turned to the others, then slashed at Caitlin. She was fast, managing to parry the hit.

  A second later, Chris stabbed viciously. She twisted to avoid the hit.

  “Son of a bitch—” she shouted, watching now as the rat-man came at her. With three of them on her, it seemed impossible to parry everything. She saw the flash of the rat-man’s knife and couldn’t quite move fast enough—

  A flash of silver caught her eye as the harsh screech of metal on metal distracted her attackers.

  “Back the fuck away!”

  Caitlin turned and saw the guard she had set free after he h
ad divulged the information on Dylan’s whereabouts. At the time, she had been dubious about releasing him, fighting her instincts telling her to leave them there until they were far, far away. But at that moment, she couldn’t have been more grateful.

  Caitlin looked impressed.

  “You seem surprised to see me,” he said.

  Caitlin shrugged. “I figured you’d run back to your master as soon as we released you. Thought you’d be halfway to Silver Creek by now…”

  She paused, trying to remember the name he had told her.

  “Ash.”

  “I know.”

  The bald guy grimaced and took another charge at Caitlin, which she batted away with barely a hesitation. He fell to the floor, mud splashing over him as he slid several feet with his own momentum.

  “And miss all this fun? Now where in Silver Creek can we party like this?”

  The rat-man growled and took another desperate swing. Chris followed swiftly behind. Ash hardly turned in his direction as he tapped the blow aside, then booted Chris in the chest. There was a satisfying goooph as he flew through the air. “Besides, as much as I love the benefits that come from being under the governor’s orders—”

  “Sarcasm?”

  “How could you tell? I’m beginning to think that maybe there’s someone else who I’d be better to serve in the grand scheme of things.”

  Taken back a little by the kind words of one of Hank’s men, Caitlin lowered her sword.

  Then raised it again immediately, twisting it beneath the crook of her armpit in a panicked attempt at defense as she heard the scream from behind. The blade now stuck out behind her.

  She heard the wet sounds of blood as the sword made its way into Chris’ stomach. He had been ready for the kill, ready to launch on her back and slice her throat.

  Caitlin closed her eyes, feeling nausea rise to choke her.

  “I see you’re not a fan of the kill?” Ash said with a look of concern, batting away another attempt from the bald guy.

  “Let’s just say I can deal with killing mindless Mad. I’d rather not kill fellow humans if I can help it.”