The Caitlin Chronicles Boxed Set

by Michael Anderle

  Caitlin peered through the church window. As expected, the whole damn town was inside

  “What do you see?” Mary-Anne asked, hovering behind where she acted as lookout.

  Faces. Hundreds of expectant faces. Restless faces which fidgeted and turned to those beside and behind them as they grew impatient in their wait for their authority figure. Usually, by now, the pastor would be in full swing, the church echoing with his sermon.

  His absence and the break in their normal routine left them vulnerable and uncertain.

  “Can you see him?” Mary-Anne said, tuning her ears in to try to hear more.

  “No. There’s no one there.”

  “Unsurprising, really. The pastor’s halfway out of town by now.”

  Caitlin looked incredulously behind her and was about to make some quip to match Mary-Anne’s when she heard a throat clearing inside the church, followed by a gasp as everyone fell silent.

  A man emerged from the back of the church and hobbled toward the lectern. He was cloaked virtually head to foot, his face shadowed. Slender and malnourished—she could see that much from the way the cloak all but fell off him—the only parts of his face on display were the crook of his nose which jutted out from the folds of the linen and the shape of his lips which looked calloused and riddled with ulcers.

  Caitlin watched as those gathered inside the church shuffled nervously in their seats.

  The man scanned the room, then cleared his throat once more. A great lump of phlegm caught on the ring of his fist which he wiped casually on his cloak. When he spoke, his words were measured and calm.

  “Welcome, one and all” he began. “And what a beautiful evening it is to join together and hold congregation.”

  “Where’s Pastor Andrews?” someone called from the crowd.

  A flash of anger passed over the man’s face as he searched for the culprit but couldn’t identify him among those gathered.

  “To tell you the truth, I hardly know myself,” the man replied. “But fear not, for you are in the hands of a power far greater than the pastor himself. A man with the power to change your fate forever and help usher in a new world far beyond what you’ve ever known.”

  A wicked grin grew on the man’s face.

  A ripple of unease spread through the crowd.

  “Who are you?” another voice shouted.

  The man beamed, then, as if he had waited for that question since his arrival.

  “I’m glad you asked,” he said, gripping the sides of his hood. “For in the absence of the pastor comes your governor.”

  He lowered his hood in one swift motion, eliciting an explosion of murmurs, gasps, and cries of disgust. Even Caitlin left all sense of pretense behind, cupping her hands against the windows and peering in, nose to the glass. She waved for Mary-Anne to join her.

  “Dear Queen Bitch and all that is good and pure,” Mary-Anne muttered.

  Trisk was hideous, his face a canvas of sores and blotchy skin. Great craters of pus and blood dotted his features. His eyes were bloodshot with bags hanging so low beneath them she was sure he could lick them. His hair had fallen away in patches and looked like it was hardly holding on to his scalp.

  But that wasn’t the worst part for Caitlin. That was saved for the gaunt expression on his face. The man who had once been cherry-cheeked and fat now looked as if he had been left out in the sun to melt. There was barely anything left of him, merely skin clinging desperately to bone.

  “What the…” Caitlin said, her words trailing away.

  “Monster,” someone declared.

  “It’s the devil,” another shouted.

  “Flee. It’s the Madness.”

  Several others stood up, pointing and shouting names at Trisk. He waited patiently until the noise began to grow. Then he roared in a voice which echoed around the room, “Silence!”

  Those who were brave enough to stand stopped talking, and some fell back into their seats.

  “I am no monster,” he said. “Though my flesh has been tarnished, my mind is still pure. There is no monster here.”

  “What happened?” a woman asked. Caitlin watched her shrink back into her chair as the man’s eyes met her own.

  “I have been tested, and I have passed,” the governor said. “I have indeed been inflicted with the Madness—”

  Another ripple of murmurs cut him short.

  “But,” the governor interjected loudly, regaining control. “I have passed the test. The Madness which affected my system but a few weeks ago has yet to take me into its clutches. The Lord himself has placed his hand on my soul and protected me from its grasp. What you see before you is an image of the Lord’s work.”

  “More like the Lord’s scrotum,” Mary-Anne remarked. “He looks like a tree had sex with a shriveled piece of fruit.”

  Caitlin wanted to laugh at that but couldn’t. She was transfixed, not merely by the governor himself but by the softening expressions on the faces of the congregation. She couldn’t believe it. They were buying it. Though Stump had performed some kind of strange and wondrous miracle on the governor, he had said himself that he would still die soon. The elixir slowed the affliction. It didn’t cure it.

  “It’s a miracle,” a woman in her fifties gasped, standing and holding her hands to the sky.

  “Hallelujah.” Another joined in, holding her child in her arms as she stood.

  “You don’t have to be pretty to be a living miracle,” a younger woman said, slapping at her partner who tried to drag her back into her seat. “Magic and wonder have indeed come to the governor. God bless ye, man.”

  “I’ve got a bad feeling,” Mary-Anne said. When she turned, Caitlin was already running to the front of the building. “Son of a bitch.”

  Caitlin took the corner and was greeted by the backs of the two door guards. They were so transfixed by Trisk that they didn’t even notice her dart between them, bursting into the church and only pausing when she was halfway up the aisle.

  “Absolute-swamp-ass-chicken-turd-dumbfuck-dick-slapping-bull-shit,” she said, her arms out wide in disbelief. Another silence fell, and all eyes turned to her. She barely even noticed their attention. Her gaze caught and held the governor’s.

  His face dropped for a moment and brought her a surge of satisfaction. He hadn’t expected her to arrive. Hadn’t even considered the possibility that Caitlin would find him in Ashdale, she was sure of that.

  “Caitlin Harrison…” he whispered.

  Caitlin turned to face the crowd. “Don’t listen to a word this man says. Your governor is evil. The very definition of the word. His whole regime thrives on lies, deceit, and terror, and you’re handing everything to him on a plate.”

  “Says who?” a man shouted from somewhere near the back. “A newcomer to our town? What do you know of the governor, Moxie?”

  “Because he was once my governor. A lazy shit who ruled the town from afar, let us suffer, threatened our lives, and sent my brother and me out into the forest to capture prisoners under pain of death.”

  Nice one, Kitty-Cat. Best not mention the vampire just yet.

  “You lied to us?” the man asked, turning to Trisk.

  “Not a lick.”

  “Liar!” Caitlin yelled.

  “What reason would I have to lie to you all?” Trisk asked, prowling back and forth behind his lectern. “Have you not enjoyed prosperity in the weeks following my arrival? Have you not all gathered as a community and lived the best days you’ve seen? Am I not a living embodiment of a miracle?”

  He sneered as confusion fell on the faces of the congregation. It was clear to Caitlin that they were mired in uncertainty. Who were they to believe? A nobody woman who had brought danger to their doorstep and now threatened to topple their whole belief system, or the sore-pocked governor who had seemingly performed nothing short of a miracle and provided a reason to keep on living. To them, it must seem that he’d provided hope at a time when there was none.

  “Stick with me,
my flock, and by all that I swear is good and holy, I will rid these lands of the Madness. I will mass-market my elixir to help those who are suffering. Already, I’ve tested the drink on those who are long fallen, and some semblance of life has been restored. Stick with me, and I swear to you all that we will leave these dark days together.”

  Trisk finished by punching his hand into the air. There was a moment of silence before a few members of the crowd punched their own fists in emulation. Then a dozen. Then more until all but a few had stood, their eyes shining with inspiration as they looked upon the decrepit man.

  “Bring back my husband,” a woman shouted.

  “Heal my son, please,” a man boomed.

  “All of these and more,” Trisk proclaimed, both hands now in the air. “For freedom.”

  “For freedom,” the congregation chorused.

  “For hope.”

  “For hope.”

  Caitlin looked around, bewildered. She shouted, but her words couldn’t be heard above the din of the congregants. For the first time since she’d entered the church, she noticed that Jaxon and Mary-Anne hadn’t joined her. She was alone, surrounded by a sea of people. And it wasn’t until the crowd began to simmer down and two figures emerged from the back of the church that her heart truly stopped.

  The brothers from the ring of fire. They’re here?

  They walked in ceremonious step, a large box carried between them. Piled high in the box were what looked like brown balls, almost spilling over the edge. They placed their burden near the governor’s feet, then took a step back, lacing their hands behind them. Somewhere in the shadows at the far back of the room, Caitlin saw more movement.

  Trisk reached his hands in front and lowered them, the crowd falling obediently quiet at the gesture. They craned and arched their necks to get a better look at the contents of the box.

  “Brothers and sisters,” Trisk said. “It is time to begin our work. Time to begin the revolution anew. To cleanse the world, we tear down the liars and the cheats—those who have falsely accused us and done us wrong.”

  He pointed at Caitlin.

  “The harlot standing before you is the false one. A woman of poison tongue and deception.”

  “Moxie? Is this true?” a woman asked nearby. Caitlin turned to see Clarissa, the girl she had rescued from the wreckage of the car, seated on her mother’s lap. The woman looked up at Caitlin with wide eyes.

  “What? Of course not.”

  “Liar!” The governor exploded, glee on his face. “Even her name is false. Why would you pretend to be anyone else if you’re not a deceiver…Caitlin Harrison?”

  Clarissa’s mother clapped a hand to her chest.

  Caitlin felt herself flush with anger. She wanted more than anything to sprint up the aisle, launch herself at the man, and cut his throat where he stood. But, what then? Escape an angry mob of townsfolk who all believed she’d killed the prophet?

  No. She had to be more tactful. She had to buy time. Where the fuck is Mary-Anne?

  Caitlin took a small step back, turned on her heel, and began to run from the church.

  “Seize her,” Trisk cried, spittle flying from his mouth.

  She charged for the door, only then realizing that the shadows that moved around the edges of the room were actually men and women in jet-black cloaks. They lined the aisle in single file, blocking the door.

  Caitlin pulled to a halt, put a hand on her sword, then thought better of it. She looked out at the freedom of the town over the shoulders of the Firestarters and saw two red eyes staring back at her. She could just make out Mary-Anne’s face as the vampire winked and placed a finger over her lips.

  She thought she could see something else, too. Two faint throbs—amber eyes immediately behind her.

  Chapter Twenty-One

  Ashdale Pond, Old Ontario

  The whole farce seemed a bit unnecessary.

  The Firestarters bound Caitlin’s hands and ankles. Those whom Mary-Anne had scared half to death in the house seemed to take great delight in manhandling Caitlin and dragging her out into the space outside in front of the church.

  In all their excitement, they never touched her sword.

  “Really? I tell you to get some sense, and you come back to join the side of the governor?” she said, rolling her eyes and thrashing her body to make tying her all the more difficult. “When you grow a pair of balls, you should call me. We could grab lunch. I could smack you with a rock and make you see real fucking sense.”

  “Shut your pie-hole,” one of the Firestarters said as he took a length of rag and forced it into Caitlin’s mouth. “In case you didn’t notice, the governor is back. With him, we can do great things.”

  Caitlin spat the rag out. “You mean like twiddle with each other’s assholes?”

  She gasped as her head was pulled back and she was gagged.

  From the edges of the shadows, the Firestarter brothers emerged with what appeared to be the trunk of a moderate-sized tree. They grunted as they stood it on its end in the center of the clearing. One brother took to digging a small hole while the other balanced the trunk. Those within the church poured out and into the torchlight, gathering in a large circle around the Firestarters.

  Caitlin cast her eyes around the circle, looking everywhere again for a sign of Mary-Anne’s glowing eyes. Though she trusted the vampire with her life, she wondered what she was playing at. How far did this farce need to go before they went ape-shit and took control of the situation?

  And was that Kain that she had seen? Perhaps her tired eyes were playing tricks on her. Kain would know better than to disobey orders and leave Christy’s parents in the unpredictable clutches of Psycho Joe.

  No. Just Joe. Jesus. Kain was really starting to rub off on her.

  The crowd parted to allow Trisk through. “Fetch kindling,” he said to those Firestarters standing around the edges of the circle. “I want to watch this bitch burn.” He tossed one of the clay orbs from one hand to the other. Caitlin saw a small hole from which a thin trail of black powder leaked. With every toss, the governor’s hands grew a tad dirtier.

  His followers obeyed, slowly building up a small stack of bracken and twigs at the base of the trunk. When the brothers were done fixing the trunk into place, they each grabbed one of Caitlin’s elbows and tied her to the post.

  She looked once more for Mary-Anne. Her heart began to quicken.

  Come on, bitch. This isn’t funny anymore.

  Mary-Anne watched from the safety of the shadows, a smile on her face and a plan in her head.

  “What are we waiting for?” Kain grunted into her ear.

  “The perfect moment.”

  They watched as the Firestarters trotted off to the edge of the woods and came back with more kindling. The two brothers who had escaped Mary-Anne’s wrath busied themselves with tying Caitlin to the post.

  “Which is when?” Kain asked.

  “We don’t want to go in too quickly and startle them all into a blind attack. You heard them in the church. They all think we’re the bad guys. You think you’ll be able to tell them otherwise when they stampede against us and choose to fight first, ask questions later?”

  “We can take them,” Kain said.

  “Maybe. But I’d rather do as little killing as possible. These people don’t deserve to die. Just those sick Firestarter fucks and the walking, bleeding scrotum with legs.” She looked Kain up and down and whispered. “Besides, don’t you think Were Kain would be a lot more effective than the skinny fuck you’re pretending to be?”

  “You know I can’t—”

  “I know, I know,” Mary-Anne teased. “I just love to see you squirm.”

  Kain took a step forward, watching uneasily as the last of the Firestarters came back.

  “Two hundred to two,” Mary-Anne said. “I don’t like those odds.”

  Kain grinned. “Oh, I think our odds are better than that.”

  Caitlin looked down at the pile of wood beneath he
r. It had reached several feet high. She wondered what it would feel like when the flames licked her toes and the heat rose.

  Trisk stepped into the center of the circle. Caitlin couldn’t quite believe it was possible, but he looked even more hideous in the torchlight. Weeping sores shimmered in the flames, and she was pretty sure, as he laced his hands together, several areas of skin simply peeled off and slopped to the floor.

  “And so we come to it. The sacrifice of the traitor to lead the world into the new, the great, the revolution,” the governor said, addressing the crowd as he placed the orb delicately in his pocket.

  Caitlin leered at his jab, knowing how much it would anger her for him to use her own words against her. She’d sent those same words with a Silver Creek guard to deliver to the governor himself when he ruled supreme over their little wooden town.

  He advanced, a figure of horror and power. “Remove her gag.”

  The brothers, who now stood on either side of Caitlin, pulled the gag from her mouth.

  “You’ve been a pain in my ass for far too long, you little twat. Now, any last words?”

  “I would’ve thought your ass knew only pleasure,” she jibed. “Get these boys to show you how it’s done. They like a good bit of meat buried in their holes.” She spat then, a thick glob of saliva landing directly in the governor’s eye.

  He pawed angrily at his face, irritating the sores which oozed and exploded with his touch. His face was a bubbling pot of lava, but it did not seem to hurt him. All sensory recognition of pain must have gone when the Madness came.

  Caitlin exploded into laughter. The brothers reached up to place the gag back over her mouth.

  “No, don’t,” the governor instructed. A shadow crossed his face as he sneered at her. “I want to hear her suffer. Every last scream.”

  If looks could kill, the look she gave him then would have had him down on the ground in seconds.