The Caitlin Chronicles Boxed Set

by Michael Anderle

  “Even now, she’s out there doing her thing, and I couldn’t be gladder that I’m back here. I mean, don’t get me wrong. Meeting you and your guys was an enlightening experience—”

  “That’s one word for it.” Larry smirked.

  “But I think I’ve found where I belong, and I’m happy to make it a safe haven for all. As long as Silver Creek stands, and I stand with it, I think I’m happy here.”

  Dylan stared across the treetops, momentarily lost in his thoughts. Larry joined him in leaning against the wall and marveling at the beauty spread before them.

  “You know, when I said I wanted to come with you guys and see how the world had changed beyond my own borders…”

  “Yeah?” Dylan said, snapping out of his thoughts.

  “I didn’t mean that I wanted to hear you proclaim your love for your own town.” Larry grinned.

  Dylan flushed red.

  “Seriously, if you love Silver Creek so much, why don’t you just marry it?”

  “Maybe I will,” Dylan said, feeling a strange familiarity with the man who had only so recently entered his life. For the last few years, Dylan had held a position of power within the rangers, and because of that, he was never sure whether his friends were friends of his or of the title he held.

  Now, with Larry, that didn’t seem to be a thought which crossed his mind. It was refreshing, actually, to feel like someone actually took an interest in him.

  “Come on, let’s finish this tour before I throw up over this wall.” Larry chuckled.

  “Sure.”

  They made their way back down the stairs and along the main street of Silver Creek. Dylan listed the various places where Larry could purchase things if he had any coin, and pointed out the quarters in which livestock was reared and what-should-be-ashamed-to-be-called-vegetables were grown.

  It was as they turned onto a side street to take a shortcut back to the gate that Dylan paused.

  “Did you hear that?” he asked, cupping his ear with his hand.

  “Yeah,” Larry said. “What was that?”

  “Shhh….”

  They both strained to listen. From somewhere nearby, they could hear the garbled sound of someone murmuring.

  Dylan tiptoed toward the end of the street and poked his head around the corner. His eyes widened, unable to comprehend what he was seeing for a moment.

  A Mad wandered down the middle of the street. What was worse, it wore the guard uniform of Silver Creek. The crest was visible across his breast, and the eyes shone in the dark.

  “You’ve got to be fucking kidding me,” Dylan whispered, aghast at the awful truth.

  “What?”

  He didn’t have the heart to say it. He’d instantly recognized the man stumbling down the street. It was Ace, one of the guards who had played host to Dylan when he had been incarcerated in Silver Creek’s cells all those months ago. A prison guard with a kind heart who, without even realizing it, had aided Dylan in his escape when Kain had stolen the key from his pocket.

  Now he was gone. Converted. An empty vessel inside a feral body.

  Larry peeked out from behind Dylan. “Oh, wow. I thought you said Silver Creek was safe.”

  “It was. I mean…it is,” he said without moving.

  “Well let’s make it safer, then,” Larry said, about to jump out from behind him and charge. He stayed him with his hand, thinking about his next move. Of course, he wanted to ensure that his people were safe. But now, looking into Ace’s empty face, he hardly had the heart to kill the poor bastard.

  “Must have been from the attack on the gate,” Dylan murmured. “How did no one spot this?”

  “I’m sensing a few heads are about to roll.”

  “You’re telling me.” He thought hard as Ace stumbled ever closer. Soon, he would inevitably be forced to defend himself when the guard’s Mad brain took over, and he smelled them on the wind.

  “Quick, grab some rope,” he instructed.

  Larry’s head whipped about. “From where?”

  “Er…” Dylan looked through the window of the house beside him and saw a length of material near the window—a half-finished blanket of sorts. Without hesitation, he grabbed it and jumped out into the street.

  Ace’s face lit up immediately. His whole demeanor changed in an instant. He went from casual stumbling to full-pelt sprinting in half a second and charged for Dylan with an almighty screech.

  “Take this,” Dylan shouted at Larry, chucking one end of the material towards him.

  He caught it easily, and Dylan took a quick sidestep, letting Ace run into the material which had been stretched taut.

  “Now, run this way,” Dylan motioned with one hand, beginning to run in the opposite direction. Within seconds, Ace was wrapped up tightly, his arms bound to his sides.

  He tried to take a step and stumbled forward, now off-balance, smashing his head against the ground. For any regular human, that would have been a blow which would have knocked them unconscious, but Ace continued to wriggle and writhe, snapping his teeth in the direction of their ankles.

  “Quick thinking,” Larry said with admiration on his face.

  “Thanks. It helps sometimes.”

  Behind them, several heads appeared out of front doors lining the streets. Sleepy citizens blinked and pawed at their faces, their mouths dropping when they realized what was currently lying on the floor.

  “Back to your chambers, folks. Nothing to see here.” Larry sensing Dylan’s discomfort as more people poked their heads out of doors and windows.

  From a few doors down, Mother Wendy appeared. She struggled with the tie of a thin dressing gown that barely covered her large bosom as she ran towards Dylan. “Dylan, dear. What on Earth is happening… My goodness!” She slapped her hands to her face. “Dylan…is that?”

  “Yep,” he said. “Quick,” he barked at Larry. “Cover his face.”

  Larry approached cautiously, removing his own shirt without a second thought and bagging it over Ace’s head.

  “We can’t let anyone know it’s him,” Dylan said beneath his breath, loud enough for only his companions to hear. “The panic that could ensue…it’s the last thing we need here. People need to know that they’re safe.”

  “How did it happen, Dylan?” Mother Wendy whispered. “How can something like this happen?”

  “I don’t know,” he replied, only half-telling the truth. He didn’t have the heart to tell her that maybe his second in command had overlooked what should have been a very obvious step after a Mad attack. Either that or Ace had hidden his marks incredibly well and laid low for several days in fear of what might happen. “What I do know is that we need to get him somewhere out of sight.”

  Larry raised a finger. “Erm, I know I may be new to this town and don’t fully understand the ins and outs of how everything works, but shouldn’t you put him out of his misery? He’s not a person anymore. He’s a Mad.”

  Dylan’s face grew serious. “We’ll discuss this when we’re out of here. Now, give me a hand.”

  With Dylan holding the back of Ace’s neck, Larry holding the middle, and Mother Wendy holding the feet, they managed to lift the guard off the floor. It wasn’t easy as the fucker kept thrashing and trying to reach them, but as Dylan attempted to give words of comfort to those watching from their doorsteps, he felt nothing more than confusion and fear himself.

  What could he do with Ace?

  How could Sully let this happen?

  A thousand questions ran rampant through his brain but now wasn’t the time or place. All he needed to work out was where to store the poor bastard until he had made a decision about what to do with him.

  Chapter Eighteen

  The Broken City, Old Ontario

  At the bottom of the stairs was an empty basement, no more than a square brick and concrete room with a few stains on the floor. Vex—incredibly, even in his own mind—managed to light the table leg he had wrapped in cloth and doused with some kind of substanc
e that was almost undoubtedly alcohol and now held the torch in front of him.

  “Where the fuck did he go?” he whispered. There was no sign that anyone had been there.

  “Oohhh,” Belle moaned. “We need to hurry. We don’t know what he’s going to do with Scout. He’s so big he could probably crush him in one hand.”

  “Unless Scout is one of them,” Vex said, jokingly at first, before a serious realization that that could be a possibility jumped into his head. “Shit.”

  “No,” Belle said. “Scout can’t be. Why would he lead us out of the woods and straight here if he was on their side?”

  “Maybe as bait,” Mary-Anne said nonchalantly as she held her ear up to each section of the wall and gave a small tap with her nail.

  “Listen to Sherlock, Belle,” Vex said. “She’s right. We’ve been suckered in as bait. We’re nothing more than gullible chow for the Weres.”

  Belle raised an eyebrow. “If that’s true, then why didn’t he take us with him? He snatched Scout. He didn’t snatch us. If we were bait, surely we would already be down there somewhere with the Weres while they held us on spits over the fire and ate our bodies.”

  “You know that’s not what Weres do, right?” Mary-Anne muttered. “They’re not tribal savages.”

  “Well then, why don’t you enlighten us—”

  “Shhhh,” she hissed. She was bent over almost double, tapping a brick with a small crack in the top corner. A grin spread across her face. “Abracadabra,” she croaked, scrunched her hand into a fist, and gave the area a big whack.

  A moderately large section of the wall pushed inwards. Mary-Anne shoved a bit harder, and the wall slid back farther. Taking one side, she shifted it to her left, and they all now saw an entrance to a dark tunnel.

  “And voila,” Mary-Anne said proudly.

  “Sorry, no one speaks Spanish anymore.” Belle strode past Mary-Anne and missed the confused look on her face.

  “French.”

  “Whatever,” Belle said.

  Mary-Anne laughed in disbelief, not quite believing the audacity of the young girl. “Erm…I know we haven’t really had much chance to bond, but you do realize that I’m the leader of this expedition, right?”

  Belle half-turned. “You do realize I’m not in the mood to play who’s got the biggest cock here? I merely want my puppy back and to get on with my day, please.”

  The vampire looked to Vex for support. He smiled and shrugged. “She’s a determined bitch when she wants to be. Feel free to challenge her, but I don’t know if you’ll get far.”

  “Okay,” Mary-Anne said. “Well, I’ll at least match your speed and walk beside you. If a Were jumps out from the shadows, you’ll want me at your side. I’m not sure how useful your little knife will be.”

  The tunnel seemed to stretch on for miles before they reached their first junction. Occasionally, a rat could be seen scurrying across the floor and into some broken brickwork. Vex glanced at the torch now and then, anxious that the flame might not last as long as they needed.

  “Left or right?” Vex asked.

  “If only we had Scout,” Belle whined. Though she whispered, the tight space seemed to carry her voice for miles.

  “We don’t need Scout,” he said. “We’ve got Scout 2.0, ain't that right, vamp?”

  “I’m not sure I appreciate being compared to a dog. Particularly in a tunnel that might potentially be crawling with them.” She took a deep sniff in either direction, then declared, “Left.”

  After another stretch of walking with little conversation and no real sign that they were heading in the right direction, they found themselves at another dead end.

  They halted, and Belle looked around frantically for any sign that they were in the right place. She patted the walls and stamped on the floors until Mary-Anne told her to calm the fuck down and look at her feet.

  There were large footprints squashed into the thin layer of grime that stained the floors.

  “Funny,” Mary-Anne said.

  “I don’t see the joke” Vex watched in anguish as the torch spluttered embers and began to diminish.

  “No,” Mary-Anne said. “The footprints aren’t facing the dead end. They’re facing right into this section of wall.” She traced her hand across the bricks, feeling for anything that might give them some kind of a clue until her finger dipped into a small hole. “Here. Shine the light.”

  She bent closer, Vex approaching to hold the torch so the fading light illuminated the wall. A small keyhole had been shaped into the brick. “Hold on,” Mary-Anne said as she scratched the wall with one long fingernail. A thin strip of the brick disappeared, leaving grey metal shining through.

  The vampire rubbed her fingers together and examined the debris. “Clever fuckers.”

  “What? What is it?” Belle asked.

  “It’s paint.” Mary-Anne showed them the dark stain on her fingers. “Or at least, some kind of cover-up mix that looks like the walls. There’s a doorway here, but it’s locked.”

  “Great. So now what do we do?” Belle sighed.

  “Can’t you get your vamp on and punch through it?” Vex suggested. “You know? Hulk out and charge in there.”

  Mary-Anne considered this for a moment. “No. Not like this. If perhaps this tunnel was open, we could have snuck up on them. Maybe tried some kind of sneak formation and taken them out one by one—depending on their abilities to smell us, that is. But to smash our way in now would be idiotic. We don’t know how many of them there are.”

  “Then what do we do?” Belle repeated, crestfallen. “Scout is in there, and he needs our help.”

  “Only one thing to do,” Mary-Anne said. “We’ve located the hidden entrance. Now we need to lure them out and grab that key. But first…” She held a finger in the air. “We’ll need backup. And I know just the people who would love this information.”

  “Who?” Vex asked excitedly, his face disappearing as the flame from the torch extinguished.

  They stood for a moment in complete darkness before Belle said. “Ma?”

  “Yeah?”

  “Mind doing us a favor and leading us out of here?”

  “Sure.”

  They began to walk, a hand on each of Mary-Anne’s shoulders.

  “Oh, and Vex,” Belle said.

  “Yeah?”

  “Get your hand off my ass.”

  The Sewers, The Broken City, Old Ontario

  Kain’s room was exactly as he had left it.

  It wasn’t a huge space, just large enough to host a bed and an old set of furniture which had been salvaged from the surface world. He stood for a moment at the door, not quite able to believe that he was back.

  What was the point in running away if this is where you were going to end up, buddy boy?

  “Sure you don’t want to join me?” Kain winked at Madeline.

  “I’d rather shove a rat up my ass and seal off its escape route.”

  “Wow,” Kain said, letting the image sink in. “Colorful.”

  Howie and Madeline reluctantly left Kain to his devices. He could hear them bitching and moaning as they walked down the tunnel, but he didn’t care. All that mattered to him was that he was out of that cell block and was now able to stretch his legs. They’d had their fun, trying to tease him with word that he was to be put to trial and had to move to a shittier cot. But he got them back and laughed as their faces dropped when he told them he’d overheard their entire conversation.

  Stupid fuckers.

  He waited until they had gone completely before taking himself on a tour through his old habitat. Most things were exactly as he had left them, though the Weres he ran into left an impression that the atmosphere in the under-city lair had changed a lot in his absence.

  When Kain had lived in the sewers before, there had been a general sense of camaraderie. Though they had always lived under threat from the city folk, the Weres were polite among themselves. Fair and patient—as far as Weres could be. But as he
nodded his hellos to familiar faces, there was a general sense of mistrust which put him on edge.

  Sure, maybe it had something to do with the fact that he had abandoned them all and a Were never abandoned his pack. But as he rounded corners, he heard snippets and snatches of conversation cut short by his arrival, whispers of overthrows and how shit life was down there. Some voiced dreams of living on the surface world or fears of the choice Weres were being forced to make regarding how they would spend the rest of their lives.

  Kain was also surprised to find that more and more Weres had chosen the animal life as their future. Before he left, there had only been a couple of Weres who had chosen the creature life. Mikkel, for one, had been one of the first to remain as a wolf, and he now remained loyal to Geralt as a sniffer and tracker hound. Another, Wes, who Kain now passed in the tunnels, had been blessed with the form of a panther. Kain hardly noticed the black fur in the darkness until they were virtually next to each other.

  “Lovely evening for a stroll, don’t you think?” he said, pausing as they squared up.

  Wes growled, bared his teeth, then continued by.

  Kain walked on, not quite sure of where he was heading until he found himself at a thin door, cracked and battered, allowing torchlight from inside the room to spill into the tunnel.

  He knocked on the door.

  “Who is it?” a woman’s voice called.

  “Mama? Tommy won’t play with me, and Davies keeps hitting me with rocks,” Kain whined, doing his best impression of a five-year-old.

  The door swung open to reveal the grey-haired woman from the underground creche, Cynthia, dressed in nothing more than an old dressing gown. Her hair was wild, but her smile was broad. “Oh, thank goodness, Kain. I worried they were going to hurt you.”