The Caitlin Chronicles Boxed Set

by Michael Anderle

  “There are gaps between the houses,” Caitlin answered, remembering what she had seen on the way over. “Far enough away that it’s difficult for the flames to jump.”

  “But not impossible. Just last week, the town banded together to stop the spread of a fire in the west quarter.”

  “Fuck, this is twisted,” Kain said. “Cat, what mess have we walked into?”

  In the streets outside, they could hear people now, footsteps and murmuring voices as Ashdale citizens went about their day. From inside the house, it all seemed normal—or as normal as anything could be these days. Caitlin wandered towards the window and peeked out, noting the rapid pace with which people walked and the glum looks on faces. When she saw a group of three women walking side-by-side with an assortment of bats and blades by their hips, torn black clothing, and surly expressions on their faces, she ducked away from the glass.

  Jaxon whined and found a seat next to Kain. He stroked the dog’s head idly, his eyes fixed on Caitlin.

  “This is what we signed up for,” Caitlin said. “We’ve come to stop Trisk. If we need to pull together to stop a rogue group of fire-starting bandits who think they’re serving a higher purpose in the name of the fat lard-ass who oppressed Silver Creek for years, then that’s what we’re going to do.”

  There came the sound of footsteps from upstairs. Caitlin’s hand moved instinctively to her sword. Kain sniffed the air.

  “Who else is here?” he whispered.

  “Show yourself,” Caitlin called. “Or thank your Lord for the final breath you’ll ever take.”

  “No.” Jamie stood and tried to calm them both with furious hand signals. Jaxon lay down lazily and rolled over.

  A shadow appeared, then an old woman, wrinkled and lined beyond anything Kain or Caitlin had ever seen. She paused at the railing upstairs, looking down at them all through milk-bottle spectacles which magnified her eyes to two huge discs.

  “If I’d known we had visitors, I’d have made myself more presentable. Been a while since the Harpers came around.” The old woman hiked up her nightdress, flashing an undesirable amount of leg which caused Kain to look away sharply. “What? No rosé? What are we, on a budget?”

  Kain raised an eyebrow as the woman disappeared into a room, emerging a moment later with a tankard in one hand and a half-melted candle in the other. “Er…Jamie? Want to explain this one to us?”

  The woman moved down the stairs with surprising speed. She glided over to Caitlin, threw her arms around her, and planted a wet, prickly kiss on her cheek. “Ah, Julie.” When she turned to Kain, he held his hands in front of him to keep her at bay, but it was no use. She took his right hand in a firm handshake and pulled him in for a squeeze. “Robert.” She beamed at them. “I can’t remember the last time we butted heads and played castles. I’ll crack out the moonshine, and you dim the lights, Jackie. Let’s make this palooza a party.”

  Jamie’s cheeks flushed with color. “It’s Jamie, Nana. You know that.”

  Caitlin laughed, shrugged her shoulders at Kain, then waited for an explanation.

  “Caitlin. Kain. Meet my nana, Mabel. She’s feisty, proud, and a little bit…” Jamie twirled a finger near his ear and crossed his eyes.

  “I got that impression,” Kain said. He cupped his mouth and raised his volume as he said, “Mabel, collect your bags dear, you need to be in the home by six.”

  Surprisingly, Jamie laughed at that. “She’s not deaf, just a little bit forgetful.” He moved closer to her on his chair and wrapped an arm around her. “Ain’t that right, Nana?”

  Mabel didn’t say anything but sucked her gums and nodded without pause. Her hair was wispy, floating like cotton puffs on the wind. She wore a thin dress that revealed a little too much of what was going on underneath. Her skin had settled into a series of folds and lines, making it almost impossible for Caitlin to tell how old she was.

  Very, she supposed.

  After a short round of conversation, in which Mabel offered very little in the way of sense but a great deal in the amount of amusement she seemed to bring Kain, Caitlin asked a question that made Jamie’s mirthful demeanor drop as reality set back in.

  “You said that Pastor Ray wants everyone in town to join his cause. That the Firestarters are his recruits, enforcing his law. They said it themselves out on the allotment. They want you to come around and join them. How long do you think you have?”

  “Thirty minutes, I’d say,” Mabel chipped in. “Fan the flame, keep it steady, and watch that pastry rise.”

  Jamie’s eyes were glazed with wetness. “A couple of days, if that. I’m running out of excuses to not attend the congregation, and every day, they get harder on me. I send Nana out to attend every night just to keep her safe. She hasn’t got a clue what’s going on in there, not really. They won’t hurt her if she’s a part of the crowd, and they won’t exactly use an old woman for dark purposes.”

  “I should hope not,” Caitlin said. “Who else is left who is resisting?”

  “Hard to say. I’ve kept myself to myself the best I can over the last few weeks. Many who have resisted have left, preferring their chances out in the woods or over the wolds beyond than stay here. I guess the only way to be absolutely certain is to wait until nightfall and search the town. Take a headcount on who’s still in their right mind. Are you guys okay with the dark?”

  Caitlin and Kain grinned at each other. “We’ve got some experience working at night.”

  Their faces both dropped as the same thought hit them. Just where exactly was Mary-Anne? If they could find her—or if she could find them—that might make everything a whole shitload easier when the sun fell and the moon rose.

  Caitlin tried to fight off a yawn and failed. Jamie caught this, offering a room upstairs for them to both sleep in if they wished.

  “Together?” Kain asked. “My dreams are coming true.”

  Caitlin rolled her eyes, looking at Jamie for help.

  “Sorry.” He shrugged. “It’s Ma and Pa’s old room from way back when. It’s a double or nothing.”

  Jamie led them both upstairs and showed them the way. Mabel stayed downstairs, fussing over Jaxon and muttering gibberish beneath her breath. They passed a room which, Caitlin guessed, was Mabel’s, based on the decor and the state the room was in, as well as a room with the door firmly closed. She couldn’t be certain, but she thought she could hear deep breathing through the wooden door. Finally, they came to a small room with a bed that could hardly be described as a double. Much more like a single, and then some.

  Before Jamie moved away and headed to his own room, Caitlin said, “Thanks so much for your hospitality, Jamie. It might not seem like it, yet, but things will get better. Trust us. This is what we do.”

  Jamie smiled. “I look forward to seeing you at work, but we’re going to need a miracle to shake this town.”

  “Miracles are what we do, babycakes.” Kain grunted his particular sound of amusement.

  “One more question?” Caitlin asked.

  “Sure.”

  “Has anyone actually seen the governor since his glorious arrival from the stars?”

  Jamie considered this a moment. “Not that I know of, except for those odd occasions where he appears from nowhere, makes his speech, and vanishes again. He wasn’t there on the day Ray started it all, and unless he attends the congregations—which I’m pretty sure he doesn’t—then, no. At least, Nana has never mentioned him during her rare lucid moments. If I were to guess, I’d say he’ll be hiding somewhere near the Cloak & Dagger, but with everything so strange these days it’s hard to know if that’s true.”

  When Jamie had gone, Caitlin lay for a while next to Kain, her head filled with thoughts. He fell to sleep almost instantly, and the room quickly filled with the sound of gentle snores.

  Caitlin thought about the Firestarters, about Trisk and this Pastor Andrews. But most of all, she thought of Mary-Anne, wondering where she might be right now, and how much they would need
her in all of this if they were to track down the governor and take a stand to bring peace and order back to the town.

  But, most importantly, she thought of Jamie and his Nana and the others who tried to resist Trisk’s evil.

  Chapter Ten

  Silver Creek, Silver Creek Forest, Old Ontario

  The sky spread a ceiling of blue above the town, with only a few wisps of cloud marring its perfection. The sun had already sunk low, preparing to set beyond the trees.

  And still, Alice refused to speak.

  Ash walked beside her, a strange knot in his stomach. Around them, townsfolk went about their lives, talking to friends, carrying wares and purchases from a day at the market, beginning to make their way home for the evening. He looked at Alice, trying to catch her eye, then looked away when she did not yield.

  It was a far cry from how she had treated him previously. If he closed his eyes for a moment, he could see her lying in her bed, the silky sheets falling off her body.

  Sullivan’s fault. It was all his fault, with his queer side look and telltale flush.

  But was it, though?

  After the searches and the interviews, Ash and the rest of the Revolutionaries had been called back together by Dylan. They had revealed their findings—which, besides from Tom’s tales, had been pretty much zero—taking it in turns around the circle to report.

  Alice told them how the Revolutionaries were already growing restless. “Don’t get me wrong, they appreciate the safe, quiet life of Silver Creek far more than they ever did at New Leaf. But they know something’s up. They’re not stupid.”

  Dylan smiled. “No. They’re most certainly not.”

  Vex and Belle spoke next, telling the CoR about Sergeant Tom and what he had told them of his own experiences walking through the forest. How he had fled with the others after a group called the Firestarters had taken to burning down houses. The group stirred at that as they no doubt remembered what Ash had told them of the man who had been shot at the wall—Laurie’s husband. Dylan fell into thought, listening intently to every detail. They all did, remembering the faint veil of smoke they’d seen from afar.

  “Do we think it’s got anything to do with the governor?” Vex asked the group.

  “If it hasn’t, it’s a pretty strange coincidence,” Dylan answered. “Trisk’s gone for a couple of weeks, and suddenly, there are people arriving at our door and talk of burning? Where is this place?”

  “Ashdale Pond,” Belle replied.

  Dylan’s face dropped, the name shouting out to him like the call of an alarm. He instantly remembered the governor’s map with the small villages circled around the paper. Ashdale Pond—the town which had been marked by Trisk himself. The exact same place where Caitlin, Mary-Anne, Kain, and Jaxon had set out to just a few days ago.

  “Shit,” he muttered.

  “What’s wrong, boss?” Sullivan asked.

  Dylan told them, watching realization dawn on all their faces. He stood and paced around the room a while, running a hand through his hair, while the others talked in disbelief, noting that no one else they had interviewed that day had mentioned Ashdale Pond or anything similar.

  “We didn’t get a chance to interview everyone, though,” Sullivan said, his face glowing red as it always did with suppressed emotion.

  Dylan turned. “Excuse me?”

  Despite his massive size, Sullivan seemed to shrink. “We still have seven to find, sir. I tried to gather them all, but some are…missing. I’m sure they’re just sleeping or keeping themselves to themselves. We managed to bring in the bulk of them. The woman with the frizzy hair—”

  “Gail,” Ash added.

  “Yes, Gail. And Laurie and her clan.” Sullivan’s eyes flicked to Ash, then to Alice who watched him intently. Ash squirmed slightly and looked at the table.

  “So, you’re telling me that, despite our concerns that we expressed in our last meeting over strangers coming into our town potentially harboring diseases—you remember the Madness, right, Sullivan?—that they’re still not all accounted for?”

  “I’m sure it’ll be fine, Dill,” Vex said, leaning on the table. “We’ll find them.”

  Dylan took a deep breath, feeling his initial anger begin to subside. A slight wave of embarrassment washed over him as his mind reeled back to the day the governor had roared at himself and Caitlin for letting him down in not catching Mary-Anne. Was that the type of leader he wanted to be? His anger switching to life at the touch of a button? Where had that even come from?

  The responsibility rests on your shoulders now, buddy boy.

  No, not on Dylan’s shoulders. On the CoR’s.

  But who’s the man who leads the CoR in Caitlin’s absence?

  Dylan rubbed his eyes and sat back down. He took a long draught of the amber nectar Mother Wendy had provided. “We find them before nightfall. We can’t have unchecked civilians loose in Silver Creek. Even if they are fine, we need to know for sure—especially if we want to leave this place safe and get to Ashdale. The last thing we need is for the Madness to take home base while we galivant around the forests.”

  Vex suddenly looked up excitedly. “You mean—”

  Dylan nodded. “Yes. If things really are as bad as I think they are, Caitlin’s going to need all the help she can get.”

  And now, as Ash and Alice turned down the side street they had been assigned by Dylan, she grabbed his arm and pulled him to a stop. The street was so narrow that dark shadows encroached where the sun couldn’t reach. It was empty, though that wasn’t unusual for this side of Silver Creek at this time of day when most folks were inside doing chores.

  For a moment, Alice lingered, her eyes shimmering as she weighed her words. “You like her, don’t you?”

  “Who?” Ash dumbly replied.

  “That woman. The wife of the man whom we shot at the gates. Laurie. You like her. I can see it every time you look at her. Every time her name is mentioned, you glow red. Don’t think I can’t see it.”

  Ash opened his mouth to speak, then closed it.

  Truth was, he found her attractive, yes. But more than Alice? Did he have the same connection as he had with the girl from New Leaf? The one he had fallen for on their travels back through the woods?

  “That’s crazy,” he said, moving in close and placing his hands on her hips.

  Alice pulled away, folding her arms tight about her.

  “Hey, leave that bitch alone,” came a voice.

  Ash turned, only now noticing the man leaning coolly against the wall. He had one foot on the wood behind him and one hand near the hilt of his sword. The other held a leather head guard under the crook of his arm.

  Alice’s expression said she’d recognized him at once, and Ash scowled the same disgust. That no-good greasy fuck who had let loose his arrow on Laurie’s husband on the parapet walls.

  “You’re a little bit out of your zone, don’t you think?” Ash replied, his demeanor one of friendly inquiry but his hand poised and ready for his sword, should he need it. “If I remember rightly, shouldn’t you be down by the paddocks on the east side?”

  The man grinned. “I suppose that depends on who’s giving the orders.”

  “Your captain is giving the orders, Greeb.”

  “Captain, he says.” Greeb chuckled, looking around as if addressing a crowd. “Captain, indeed. What do we think, fellas? Are we taking orders from the captain?”

  As if melting out of the shadows, several more men joined Greeb in the street. They walked with dark purpose, hardened stares on their faces. Ash felt his heart drop. These were men he remembered had been advocates of the former captain of the guard, Hank Newman, for as long as Ash had been on the guard force. They had all actively sought ways to satiate their twisted desires by abusing their power and taking what they wanted.

  And they outnumbered himself and Alice three-to-one.

  Ash nudged Alice slowly behind him.

  “I suppose we would take orders from the captain�
�if he were still alive,” one of the men croaked. He walked with a slight limp. His hair was slimed back, and he sported a particularly large mole on his neck. “Not the best example to set, now, eh?”

  “Oh no,” Greeb said patronizingly. “Not good at all. How does this so-called captain expect us not to overthrow the leader, when that’s exactly what he and his reductionaries did?”

  “I think you’ll find we’re called ‘Revolutionaries,’” Alice said, leaning around Ash. “Is he deaf as well as ugly?”

  Ash closed his eyes, wishing Alice would be quiet. He heard movement behind him, turned, and saw another two men with smiles on their faces.

  Great. Four to one.

  The chorus of choking laughter stirred a burning hatred in Ash’s stomach. He had expected this on some level. After Caitlin had taken the town back from Trisk and killed the madman who had been Silver Creek’s captain of the guard, he knew there might be some backlash. In the last couple of weeks, he had worked hard with the guards, making sure that he earned their respect while also protecting the town. There had been a few who resisted, at first, ignoring orders and only putting in half-effort. But he thought he’d overcome it.

  Apparently not.

  “How do you think you’re going to go about this?” Ash asked. “You…what? Kill us? Then what happens? You think you’re going to take down the Revolutionaries? You think the town will fall in line behind you all, and that you’ll have the power you’ve hungered for while hiding in your master’s shadow for all these years?”

  Greeb’s smile faded. He drew his sword and examined the tip nonchalantly. “Maybe. Maybe not. To be honest, I’ve not thought past this part. But, then again, this has always been my favorite part of the plan. And, since your bitch-tits leader is out exploring the wilds with the fanged bitch, why not take a chance when we get it? Right, boys?”

  Nodding and grunts of agreement all around emphasized the danger they were in. Ash did his best to look for a way to escape but could see none. He heard Alice whisper behind him, “We can take them,” but he wasn’t so sure. He was a good fighter—one of the best in the guards’ cohort—and he knew that Alice was skilled beyond comparison with twin blades. But two against eight? That left something to be desired.