The Caitlin Chronicles Boxed Set

by Michael Anderle

  “You and me both.”

  “Come inside. Come on.” She ushered him inside, glancing down the tunnels before she shut the door behind him.

  Compared to his room, Cynthia’s quarters were the definition of homely. Made from a large cutout in the rock, there were several rooms to Cynthia’s pad. She had enough rugs, pictures, and faux flowers to cast the illusion that they could have been up above ground right now, and not in some shitty hole in the ground.

  Guess that is one of the perks of being the eldest female in the pack.

  Cynthia took Kain’s hand and led him to a chair. She turned and poured a glass of water, gave it to him, then poured another for herself.

  They passed a moment in silence as she studied him before she said, “You know, you never said goodbye.”

  “I know,” Kain said, not hiding his real shame. “Truth was, I didn’t know that I was going to leave. Not until the last minute. And by that point, I figured the less anyone knew, the better.” A beat passed before he spoke again. “How have things been?”

  Cynthia, who had always seemed so full of life and vibrant before Kain had departed, now sighed. Her back hunched over and he was sure he’d never seen her look so weary. “Exhausting. A lot has changed here, Kain. It might not seem like it, but it has.”

  “I see you’ve got a new spot as the daycare lady?” he smiled.

  Cynthia chuckled. “Yep. Guardian of several dozen rug rats, all queued up and waiting in line to become the next one in Geralt’s mad experiments. They’re treated well—at least by me—before they’re taken to the sub-levels for trials.”

  “Geralt says that progress is being made. That we’ll soon be overrun by Were cubs. Is that true?”

  Cynthia sat back in her chair, took a sip of water, and thought for a moment. “Yes—and no. From what I’ve seen, the conversions are proving tricky. You can’t calm the kids enough to stop them from transforming. It seems a painless enough procedure, and the kids do just fine—aside from the initial shock of missing their families which they overcome surprisingly quickly when they’re reunited with their friends. It just means that Geralt has yet to breed warriors. All he’s creating right now are pets.”

  Kain tried to imagine a room full of baby animals running around and wreaking havoc. Kain grinned, then sighed.

  “I know that’s not what you want to hear,” Cynthia said. “Truth is, I hoped I’d never see you again.”

  “The feeling’s mutual.” Kain smirked. He swilled the water around his cup, spilling several drops onto his lap. Outside, he heard the sound of footsteps as someone passed the door. He waited for them to fade into the distance.

  “I tried to stop him, y’know?” he said.

  “I’ve heard stories.”

  Kain’s eyebrows raised. “Oh, yeah? How’d I come off?”

  “Not good,” Cynthia replied. “The tale goes that on the day Geralt began unveiling his grand master plan and gathered the crew together to discuss how the kidnapping of surface kids would be approached, you protested. Geralt smashed you across the room, and you shifted into a wolf and then sprinted off into the sunset without looking back.”

  “Not exactly my version of events.” He snorted in derision, then gave in to the need to tell the whole truth of what had really happened.

  Quietly, Kain laid out the truth to Cynthia. It had actually been only Geralt and Kain on the day when things went shit. Little known to the rest of the Weres, even then, the Alpha had taken a strange shine to him. On the odd occasion, he would find himself invited to Geralt’s quarters for a chinwag and a drink.

  On that night, the Alpha had a few too many drinks, and his tongue had grown loose. As the conversation turned and the booze poured, the topic turned to legacy and survival.

  “Us Weres have had our time, my friend,” Kain had slurred as he poured himself another cup. “Hear my words. It’s over. We’re the last of a dying breed. Soon, we’ll be nothing more than the dodo or the mammoth. Fossils in the grounds, though no one will know our secret because our fucking skeletons are the same as humans.”

  Geralt, who by this point was heavy-lidded and not quite fully possessed of sober faculties, chuckled at that. His great mane of hair rested in his drink. “Nah,” he said. “You’re wrong, bucko. There’s a way to survive, I’m sure of it. Mark my words. I’ll find a way. You’ll see. You’ll all see.” He pointed around the room at what Kain could only presume to be an imaginary crowd.

  “And how is that?” he said. “What are you going to do? Dress animals up in clothes and pretend they’re Weres?”

  Geralt shook his head sleepily. He closed his eyes. “The key is in the kids, Sudeikis. Young. Nimble. Durable. That’s the starting point. Fuck the surface fuckers and their fucking guns. Lure the kids. Convert them all.” He chuckled and burped. “An army of teeny child Weres.”

  Kain frowned. “You’re not serious?”

  Geralt nodded. “Where do you think Bryce is right now?”

  He explained to Cynthia that he had left the drunken Were to sleep in his chair and had meant to return to his room, only to find his feet leading him towards the exit.

  Several Weres called after him as he passed, asking where he was going at that late hour, but he didn’t bother answering. His head was swimming. Sure, over the years Geralt had made a few rash decisions. Survival of the Weres was key, and that was half the reason he had been put in charge. But to turn his attention now to creating new Weres after years of horror stories and failed experiments with adults from the surface, he was going to start on the kids?

  That was something Kain couldn’t hang around to see. Nor did he think, at that moment, he had the power to change anything.

  As he had passed Howie in the tunnels, for the first time in years, Kain had chosen to transform. In a few seconds, he had taken Wolf form, sprinted from the tunnels, and never looked back. One of the Weres he passed must have reported the shift to Geralt who had burst out from the lair and given chase. How he had managed to outrun him, he still had no idea. The forest provided the cover, the trampling sounds of the bear faded, and so began the days of his solo journey.

  “Wow, that’s a lot different to what I was told.” She looked at Kain, her eyes filled with pity.

  “Don’t get me wrong, I was hunted for years. After I left, no matter where I went, I always had the feeling I was being tracked. There were even a few times when I smelled the others. But I guess in recent months, I must have let my guard down.”

  They sat for a moment in thought. Kain looked around the room, smiling at the memories of the times he had spent there with Cynthia. As one of the oldest Weres, she had been given a lot of privileges others hadn’t. The bigger rooms, for one thing, a wall lined with books, and one of the comfier beds they had dragged down into the sewers.

  Kain’s heart began to thump as he remembered some of the memories he had shared with Cynthia in that bed.

  “So, when are you going to try to leave again?” Cynthia asked.

  Kain looked at the old woman. It was a fair question, but it was filled with sadness. A strange determination began to spread within his gut as he thought about the situation.

  The children were already there. A dozen or so of them, queued up and, unknown to them, awaiting their turn on the chopping block. There were good Weres there, those whom he was sure were not entirely on Geralt’s side. He had a vampire and a human girl with incredible skills hanging about somewhere above ground, hunting for him.

  All factors which he had never had before when he had felt nothing more than alone within the colony all those years ago.

  “You know what?” Kain said. “I don’t think I am.”

  Cynthia’s smile returned.

  “At least, not just yet.”

  “What are you planning?” She smirked. “I’d know that sly face anywhere.”

  “Let’s just say that I’ll need you to give me as much information as possible on everything and everyone around here which has c
hanged. I do believe that Geralt may have overstayed his welcome, and I know a few guys who are incredibly experienced in starting a revolution.”

  Chapter Nineteen

  Prison District, Silver Creek, Old Ontario

  This wasn’t good.

  The Mad bumped into each other inside the jail cells—the only place Dylan could think to put them until they could work out what the hell was going on and where they were all coming from.

  Dylan stood with his hands on his hips and watched them. They were all familiar faces, people he had known in Silver Creek since he was a boy, and the last thing he wanted to do now was end their lives without trying any alternatives.

  Not that his reluctance had gone down all that well. Ash and Dylan loudly disagreed on which tactics they should use to deal with the outbreak.

  “Dill, we need to be careful, here,” Ash said, his brow furrowed. “There’s no winner. If we keep these guys alive, all we’re doing is providing an opportunity for them to break out and infect the town. There’s no coming back from the Madness. They’re all gone.”

  “Charming!” a man said, rising from his seat at the back of the cell. He was short and dumpy, with a heavy mustache, hair slicked over to the side, and an arm covered in sores. “Is that any way to talk to your fellow man? I’m not quite gone yet, prick.”

  Despite his presence in the cell, the other Mad paid him no attention as if they had already accepted him as one of their own. Which was fair. He was turning, but Dylan had an ace up his sleeve.

  “He’s right, you know,” a tiny man who looked half-deformed said from where he stood next to Dylan. ‘Stump,’ as the small man was affectionately known, had traveled there from Ashdale Pond several days ago at Dylan’s request.

  Chaperoned by Christy and Jamie, Stump brought the ingredients he had brewed together when he had been instructed to keep the governor’s Madness at bay. While not a cure, his concoction seemed to provide certain proof that it could slow the rate of infection and at least buy the victims some time to say their goodbyes before they lost their minds—or until a suitable alternative was found.

  “Hey, you’re supposed to be on my side,” Dylan protested.

  “I’m on nobody’s side. Just here to do a job,” Stump said as he tossed a flask through the bars—narrowly avoiding the Mad’s reaching arms—so the chap could take a deep draught. “Kill them, that’s what I say. They’re just taking up room.”

  Dylan looked at them both in disbelief. Alice shuffled awkwardly. “I’m with Dylan on this. If there’s a way to slow the infection, there must be a way to stop it. Surely you can come up with something to undo what’s happening, Stump?”

  The dwarf shook his head gently. “I’m not a scientist. I’m not a botanist. I’m not a specialist in Madness removal. I’m the owner of a bar. Don’t look for your hero in me.”

  “Then how did you discover the recipe for this concoction?” Dylan asked. “That can’t have been a lucky guess.”

  As Stump opened his mouth to answer, Sully arrived. He looked breathless and pale, as though he’d had trouble sleeping. Dylan wasn’t surprised. As much as he had tried to reassure Sully that there was little he could have done to prevent this, he wouldn’t listen. He had spent the best part of the last few days running around and doing everything within his power to stop the spread.

  “What news?” Dylan asked.

  All the guard had to do was look at Dylan for him to know what he wanted to say.

  “Another one?” Dylan sighed. He rubbed his eyes and asked, “Who? East quarter again?”

  Sully shook his head. “Sally Brennigan. South quarter. Bitten by this one before we could catch him.”

  The short, mustached man sat up straight. “I never!”

  “That’s what she told me.”

  “She’s a liar. I’d never bite anyone. Not least Mrs. Brennig—” He stopped as his jaw suddenly opened and shut against his will. A small pattern of bites made him look like a dog trying to catch a butterfly. His eyes widened in alarm.

  When his mouth settled, he added. “I didn’t know. I’m so sorry. It’s this…this…” He dropped his head into his hands and fell silent.

  Stump took a deep breath and, for the first time since Dylan had met him, he saw an ounce of empathy on the small man’s face. He walked towards the doorway, glanced back over his shoulder, and said, “Come. I will show you what I know.”

  The Broken City, Old Ontario

  Caitlin looked across the mass of water that bordered the northern side of the Broken City. She had never seen anything like it before, had never imagined an area where so much water could reside in one place.

  “This is unbelievable.” She drew an awed breath, gasping slightly as the air cut across the lake and stole her words. Birds soared across the water, diving and returning to the air with fish in beaks. Jaxon splashed around in the shallows, barking and going mad as he chased birds into the air and fish back to the depths.

  Izzy approached at a half-jog. They had been deep into their search for the hidden entrances when Caitlin had spotted the water and run ahead.

  “You best tell Jaxon to be careful.” Izzy chuckled. “You don’t want him to be dragged into the lake by the Soakers, do you?”

  Caitlin turned suddenly. “Soakers? What are Soakers? Jaxon—”

  “I’m kidding!” Izzy said quickly enough that Caitlin could send Jaxon back out into the water to play. “It’s just a folk story we tell the kids to keep them from wandering too close to the water. Soakers are supposed to be an aquatic strain of Mad who drag lost children down into the waters and drown them for their tea. Dark, slimy things with gills and claws.”

  “That’s what you tell your children?” Tom asked in shock. “I’d hate to hear your version of Goldilocks and the Three Bears. What happens in that? Do the bears sprout wings, suckle blood from Goldilocks’ heart, and use her head as a bowling ball?”

  Izzy wandered closer to the water and looked out over into the horizon. “Look, we do what we need to do to keep people safe. This border is the only side of the city not protected by a fence. We don’t know what could come across the water.”

  “Then why don’t you fence off the shore here, too?” Laurie asked, shaking her hair behind her shoulders and kicking off her shoes. The sand felt soft beneath her toes.

  “We don’t want to block ourselves off to everybody,” Izzy said. “Years ago, many of our current residents actually arrived from across the Black Lake. They came on small boats, refugees from the cities beyond. Old Toronto. The dried-up falls of Niagara. Prince Edward Island. All escapees looking for a new life after the Madness spread.” She bowed her head sadly. “The last thing we want is to prevent others who are looking for a safe new life from arriving and joining us. The future is in community and union, not in fences and separation. One day, I hope to see a fleet of ships traveling across that lake.”

  “Why not lead a fleet of ships?” Caitlin asked, already imagining herself sailing across the waters to unknown lands. The idea of other cities excited her, even if there was no certainty that any would be more recovered, populated and built up than this one.

  They continued their search much as they had on the previous days. By now, Caitlin was becoming familiar with the city, though her patience started to wear thin. She had seen no sign of Kain or Mary-Anne for so long now that she was beginning to get withdrawals.

  She missed their playful, cocky speech and missed having the company of Unknowns around her. They were people who were good to have on her side. Sure, Laurie, Tom, and Joe were good company, but that didn’t stop her from wishing the Were and the vamp were nearby. Though she had grown confident in her own blade skills, there was something reassuring about knowing you had backup from those with powers.

  Even if one of them could only use them sparingly.

  That evening at dinner, Caitlin watched as the food and drinks were served. Once again, Felicia stood and gave her speech about the idea of community. Ye
t again, Ruby interrupted, her face filled with tears as she asked after her sister.

  Caitlin studied Felicia during this encounter, watching as carefully as she could manage from afar.

  “She doesn’t even flinch. She doesn’t show emotion. She doesn’t give a shit.” Caitlin’s indignation emerged almost as a growl.

  Izzy checked that no one was listening. “Shhh, keep your voice down.”

  “Why? It’s not like she’s going to do anything about it, is she? From all I can tell, she loves the power. She loves sitting on her ass while her people do the same things day in, day out. We’re no closer to finding anything than we were when we arrived.” Caitlin paused and sorted through her thoughts. “How long have you been searching for the Weres for?”

  Izzy looked at Oscar in exasperation.

  “Too long,” he said.

  “Then why don’t we stop looking for them?” Caitlin said. “Clearly, it’s not working. You need something else, a different way to find them. Draw them out. Lure them. Do something.”

  “What do you have in mind?” Izzy asked.

  Caitlin screwed her eyes and thought. “Traps? Lures? Anything at all. It almost seems like you don’t want to find the Weres. Like this is some nice little back and forward impasse where you settle comfortably in the middle.” Caitlin’s voice grew louder. “Don’t you get it? They’re taking your people.”

  A few heads turned to her with interest.

  Izzy suddenly looked afraid. She stood, grabbed her by the wrist, and said, “Come with me. I need a word.”

  Caitlin shook her wrist free, excused herself from the others, and followed.

  They hurried out the main hub of the library and up the stairs. Izzy didn’t look back as she made her way to a room at the far side of the building. She placed a key in the lock, opened the door, stepped inside, and waited for Caitlin to enter.