The Caitlin Chronicles Boxed Set

by Michael Anderle

  He laughed, a hearty sound which sent a shiver running up Caitlin’s spine. The sound of it made Jaxon howl.

  Their host circled the room, pausing behind Caitlin’s chair. She could feel his breath on the top of her head and taste the musty odor that emanated from him.

  “Then what do you need us to do?” she asked.

  “I never thought you’d ask, Miss Curtis.” He paused. “It is, Miss Curtis, isn’t it?”

  Caitlin suddenly felt warm as he made his way back to his chair, scanning her from top to bottom. She didn’t like the way he looked at her but noted that perhaps it was something she could play on. She might be able to use it to her advantage.

  “It is,” she said, shuffling in her chair and catching Mary-Anne’s disapproving gaze.

  Kain feigned a cough.

  The pastor broke his scrutiny. “I’ve got a task that I need you to complete. I need it done tonight, and in utter secrecy. On the upper east side of town, there’s a house with broken windows and a blue door. Inside are some—how do I put this?—troublemakers who need to be taken care of. Smoke them out. Send a message. Either they kneel, or they die.”

  “Seems a bit extreme,” Kain said before he could stop himself.

  Mary-Anne and Caitlin glared at him.

  “Extreme? Maybe,” Pastor Andrews said, unflinching. “Yet it takes a great deal of leadership and strength to do what is necessary to secure peace. If you can’t hack the task, then fine. Clob can see to you from here on out.”

  Clob tapped his club against his open palm, his eyes menacing.

  “But if you can,” the pastor continued, “then we’ll get you inked, clothed, and ready to join an elite force the likes of which the world hasn’t seen in years. The best food. The best company. It’s all in your hands.”

  Caitlin felt her anger boil just below the surface of her calm, not a fan of the idea of being threatened. But this was not the time to let her emotions get the best of her.

  She grinned, crossing her legs one over the other, revealing her lower calf. The pastor’s eyes were drawn down, and she suppressed a triumphant grin.

  “You’ve got yourself a deal,” she said.

  He clapped his hands. “Very good.”

  “Who lives in the house?” Mary-Anne asked suddenly.

  The pastor smiled, a knowing look on his face. “As I said…troublemakers.”

  Silver Creek, Silver Creek Forest, Old Ontario

  “More burning,” Dylan murmured, standing on the parapets.

  Sullivan squinted beside him. “More burning means more fire, right?”

  Dylan nodded. He had checked on the plumes regularly, his curiosity drawn over the canopy of the forest to the faint traces of smoke beyond. He figured that maybe the fires would stop burning after a few days, but that didn’t seem to be the case.

  Couple that with the fact that several more vagabonds had somehow found their way through the forest and requested entry into Silver Creek, and Dylan started to grow anxious. If there really was something happening out there, then was Caitlin okay? Sure, Dylan had also grown to care for Kain and Mary-Anne—despite the fact she really gave him the creeps—but his loyalties lay with his sister.

  “I hate this,” Dylan said, his face growing stern.

  “What’s that, sir?”

  “Standing and waiting while they’re out there fighting. The last time this happened, I was stuck in a prison without a choice, but now…”

  “What about the town? If we leave, who will stand guard and protect Silver Creek?” Sullivan scratched his head, looking down at his captain.

  Dylan smiled and clapped the guard on the shoulder. “I’m looking at him.”

  Sullivan’s face melted into shock. “Do you mean it, sir?”

  But Dylan wasn’t listening. At that moment, he wasn’t standing on the parapets of Silver Creek watching the action. He was out there, with his sister, taking part in the action. Whatever was going on in the distance, he wanted in. As long as they had the smoke to guide them, they’d find their way.

  Sullivan continued babbling, only stopping when Dylan said, “Come. Let’s rouse the others. It’s time.”

  “But I don’t want to arouse the others,” Sully said.

  Dylan looked at him incredulously. “No. Not a-rouse. Just rouse.”

  Sully returned a blank stare.

  “Never mind, just follow me.”

  Chapter Fifteen

  Ashdale Pond, Old Ontario

  Night had fallen by the time they made it to the house on the upper east side.

  It was right where Pastor Andrews said it would be, though the faded blue door appeared more like gray in the starlight. The broken windows looked more like the mouths of demons yawning in a pit of black, the remains of glass the last remnants of the monsters’ teeth.

  “Go on,” Clob said, his club by his side.

  Caitlin had been surprised to find Clob waiting at the bottom of the street when they arrived, though in hindsight she should’ve figured as much.

  “You think you’ve earned the pastor’s trust yet, maggots?” Clob said in his gruff voice. “You’ve got a long ways to go to prove yourself. Now, get.”

  As they had started towards the house, Clob had added. “Oh, and the pastor expects to see smoke and flame.”

  With Jaxon leading, the four of them made their way to the house. There was a set of stairs leading to a front porch. They climbed them and peeked through the windows. The house was silent. The only sounds to be heard were their own breath and footsteps—though, granted, Mary-Anne was so light on her feet that she hardly made a sound.

  “See anything?” Caitlin whispered.

  “Nope,” Mary-Anne replied.

  They circled the house under the watchful eye of Clob who stood statuesque across the street. If they hadn’t have known he was there, they could be forgiven for thinking he was nothing more than a blip in the shadows.

  The back door was shut, but there was no lock. Caitlin pushed it open cautiously until the gap was large enough for her to slide through, told Jaxon to stand guard, then made her way inside.

  The room was clothed in shadow. On a table to the side of the room stood a wooden frame holding a sketch of a woman who looked to be in her thirties with a little blonde girl on her lap. The girl was smiling, her hair divided into pigtails. There was something oddly familiar about her that Caitlin couldn’t quite place.

  Kain sniffed the air as he moved up beside her. “Something’s off here.”

  “Maybe that’s your own breath,” Mary-Anne retorted.

  “Divide and conquer?” Caitlin suggested. She had been adamant on the way over here that they make sure the house was empty before they smoked it out. Although joining the Firestarters might be their key to reaching the governor, the last thing Caitlin wanted to do was actually hurt any innocents.

  Kain and Mary-Anne nodded. He took the room to the left, Mary-Anne dashed up the stairs as silently as the wind, and Caitlin explored the room directly in front—what looked like a kitchen and parlor of sorts.

  Another sketch had been nailed to the wall. A man and woman sat side-by-side, laughing. A girl played on the floor between them.

  Again, Caitlin sensed that she knew her somehow. Knew them.

  When she reached the bottom of the stairs, Kain approached from the opposite direction.

  “Anything?” she asked.

  “Nothing. Though we ought to make a move before old clobber-brains outside gets suspicious. We were supposed to start a fire and leave, right?”

  “Right.”

  “Guys,” Mary-Anne said, appearing at the top of the stairs. “You might want to see this.”

  They made their way upstairs, making no effort to avoid the creaking of the stairs. If anyone were in the house, Caitlin thought, they’d know they weren’t alone anymore anyway. What was the point in hiding?

  The followed Mary-Anne down the hallway to where a door stood ajar. Caitlin could already hear muffled
sounds as though someone’s face was covered with a pillow. She raised a questioning eyebrow at Mary-Anne, who opened the door.

  A man and woman, most likely in their fifties, sat in the center of the room. Each had gray hair, with a fading circle of bald on the man’s. A length of cloth tied around their heads, gagging them both, and a coil of rope tied their hands, feet, and bodies together.

  Caitlin recognized them instantly as the couple from the pictures.

  Their eyes widened with fear as the three of them walked into the room. Caitlin held up her hands, looked down at Mary-Anne’s black clothing, and instantly felt foolish.

  Of course, they’re terrified. We look like the fucking undertaker has come to drag them to hell.

  “It’s okay, it’s okay,” Caitlin whispered, approaching with careful calm. She knelt by their side. “I’m going to cut these free. Please don’t squirm too much in case I nick you, and please remain calm. We’re not here to hurt you.”

  She cut their bonds and removed their gag. They spent a second rubbing their wrists.

  “Who are you?” they asked.

  Caitlin turned to Mary-Anne, who shook her head. “Now’s not the time for that. You’re in danger, and we need to get you out of here.”

  “They’re coming back, aren’t they?” the woman said, struggling to hide her fear. “They said they would be, those fucking Firestarters. Back with flame, they said. Back with fire.”

  “Keep your voice down,” Kain hissed as the woman grew more frantic. “Unless you want good ol’ Clob to swing by and turn your heads into smashed fruit?”

  “He’s back?” the man said. “Clob is back?”

  “What do you mean, he’s back?” Caitlin asked.

  Mary-Anne tutted and indicated they needed to hurry.

  “Who do you think tied us up?” the woman said. “We were fast asleep when he came in. He took us by surprise, coming into our room and overpowering us both. My husband’s strong, but he’s no match for that…freak.”

  “Said he had a surprise for us, and for us to sit tight,” the man said, tugging at the tufts of his hair. “If we don’t go soon, those Firestarters will come. We need to hurry. Let’s go.”

  Caitlin looked guiltily at the floor.

  “What? What is it?” the woman asked.

  “We’re the Firestarters. The pastor sent us to start the fire.”

  “You?” the woman said.

  “It’s not like that,” Mary-Anne cut in, interrupting whatever protest the woman seemed more than ready to spew. “We’re not one of them. We don’t have time to explain, but we’re the good guys.”

  Outside, they heard Jaxon begin to bark.

  “Quick, we need to get moving,” Kain said, shoving the man forward and into the hallway. “Do you have a back passageway out of here?”

  “What does this place look like? A haunted friggin’ castle?” The old man was fiery now, finally awake and on the offensive.

  “My Christy. You must know my Christy?” the woman said, pausing next to her husband in the hallway as Caitlin and Mary-Anne filed out from behind.

  Caitlin froze. That’s why that picture looked so familiar.

  “You’re Christy’s parents?” Caitlin asked.

  They nodded. “Patricia and Felix Cordery. Have you seen her? Where is she?”

  “I really feel like this conversation could wait for another time,” Mary-Anne said.

  Jaxon’s barks grew louder as he ran inside the house. A voice followed him. “Keep your noise down, you mangy mutt!”

  Their eyes all widened in alarm, and they sprinted down the stairs, pausing halfway when they saw Clob’s gigantic form waiting at the bottom. He weighed his club in one hand, hid biceps bulging silver in the moonlight which filtered through the window.

  “It’s not what it looks like,” Kain said.

  “Really?” Clob leered. “Because it looks like you’re trying to help our friends escape, now, doesn’t it?”

  “If this is how you treat your friends, I’d hate to see how you treat your enemies,” Kain said.

  From behind Clob, two more figures appeared. Yusuf held a makeshift mace in his hands, while Christy sported a whip and a rusted, notched machete.

  “Christy,” Patricia exclaimed before Mary-Anne’s hand found her mouth and silenced her.

  Christy remained silent, doing anything she could to avoid making eye contact with her parents.

  “She’s one of us, you stupid bitch,” Clob grunted. “And you three. Pastor Andrews had such high hopes for you all. It’s a shame I’ll have to go back and tell him that I took care of you all.”

  “That’s bullshit,” Caitlin said. “If he had high hopes, then why did he send his goons to babysit?”

  “Because you don’t get anywhere without trust in this world. There was always a chance you were up to no good, and here’s the proof. These two have caused the pastor a headache ever since Christy…joined…our cause, and all he asked was that you scare them a touch. Torch their house. Send a message.”

  “Set the fuckers on fire, you mean?” Kain said. “That’s what you were hoping, right? That we’d set the place ablaze and kill them both.”

  If Caitlin weren’t mistaken, she’d say Christy’s eyes widened slightly.

  Clob shrugged. “There’s always collateral in war.”

  He took a step, his footsteps like thunder through the house. Caitlin, Kain, and Mary-Anne drew their weapons. Jaxon bared his teeth.

  “Get them back,” Caitlin ordered Kain. “Get them somewhere safe. Now.”

  “Safe?” Clob said, taking another step. “Darling, in a few seconds, there won’t be a place for you that’s safe.”

  As if on cue, Yusuf and Christy drew tinder and flint from their pockets. Yusuf knelt down, poured a clear, viscous liquid in a puddle on the floor, and chipped away to create a spark. Christy mirrored his actions reluctantly the other side. The instant the first spark hit the puddle, it sprang to life, glowing a litany of blues, whites, oranges, and reds. It crackled as it burned, slowly spreading wider and wider until it reached the bottom of the stairs and began climbing the stairway.

  “Best get running,” Clob said, manic glee on his face.

  Caitlin and the others turned and fled up the stairs. They dashed into a room filled with junk and clothing at the far side of the house and pulled a window open to look outside.

  Behind them, they heard Clob shout, “Take positions outside. Wait for the birdies to drop.”

  “Quick,” Caitlin said, poking her head out the window. The fresh air hit her and, as she looked down, her vision went blurry. They were at least twenty feet from the ground. She hadn’t jumped from many heights in her life, but she figured that jumping from there wouldn’t be fun for anyone.

  Yeah, try running away with both your shins splintered.

  “What do we do?” Patricia asked. Felix held her tight, as though he hoped if he squeezed her hard enough, he might be able to absorb her and keep her safe.

  “Like clubbing fish in a barrel,” Clob said. They could see him in the hallway as he swung the club in a wide arc, smashing through the wood of the banister. Behind him, thick black smoke began to stream upstairs.

  “You two go,” Kain said, pointing into the hallway. “I’ll get these guys to safety.”

  “What are you going to do? Sprout wings and fly down?” Mary-Anne chided.

  Kain looked around, spotting a pile of linen and clothes on the floor. “I’ve got an idea,” he said. “Now, go.”

  Mary-Anne looked uncertain for a moment until Caitlin shouted, “C’mon Ma, help me hold him back.”

  Caitlin picked up speed, heading toward Clob. He swung, and she ducked, leaning backward and skidding on her knees until she was on the other side of his massive form.

  “Nice one, Moxie,” she heard Mary-Anne remark.

  “Thanks, Detta.” Caitlin grinned.

  As the fire crackled and grew, they fought Clob from either side. Mary-Anne used her
vampire strength to bat away his club as if it were nothing more than the soft stem of a plant. Caitlin blocked with great effort and weaved around his blows, doing her best to buy time as the others tried to escape.

  “Enough of these games,” Clob said, lashing out with the club and catching Mary-Anne in the stomach. She smacked against the wall, winded, and fell to the floor. Clob smiled. “Good.”

  “No,” Caitlin shouted, kicking at the back of Clob’s leg. He fell to one knee, his massive weight breaking the floorboards. The wood splintered around him, biting into his skin. He struggled against the timber, but it bit deeper into his knee. The fire had all but swallowed the stairs now, the smoke thick. It burned Caitlin’s eyes as she pulled her cloak over her face.

  She took a few steps back and stepped on Clob’s back, spring-boarding herself across the hallway. He clawed at her legs as she passed, but she was too fast. She coughed and spluttered, grabbed Mary-Anne’s hand on the way past, and dragged her into the room where the others had been. The space was now filled with nothing more than smoke.

  Caitlin leaned out the window, gasping for the fresh air. Below them, she saw the coil of cloth and a sight that made her heart stop.

  Yusuf held his mace in one hand, a knife in the other, and his arm wrapped about Patricia’s throat, the knife pressed against her skin. Kain stood a few feet away, his sword drawn. Felix had gone pale, looking around helplessly.

  “Another move and she dies,” Yusuf said, glee bright on his face in the glow of the flames.

  “Patricia, no,” Felix cried.

  “Oh, come on. You wanted to kill her anyway,” Kain said. “How do we know you’ll keep her alive if we behave?”

  Yusuf looked up at the window. “Where’s Clob?”

  Caitlin looked back inside the house but could only see smoke. “I don’t know.”

  A flicker of panic crossed Yusuf’s face. “No matter,” he said without conviction. “Like we ever needed that brute in the first place. I don’t know what Pastor Andrews saw in him.”

  A mighty crash from behind was followed by a roar of pain. Caitlin imagined the stairs caving in on themselves, the wood splintering and falling down in a rain of wood and fire until a shape emerged from the smoke.