The Caitlin Chronicles Boxed Set

by Michael Anderle

  The reality, however, was quite the opposite.

  “I didn’t expect to see you this morning,” Izzy said quietly enough that only Caitlin could hear. “No luck finding your friend?”

  The girl’s leg touched hers and electricity sparked between them.

  “Oh, no. We found him,” she said. She stared at her plate, tucked her spoon into her breakfast, and took a large mouthful—anything to distract herself.

  “You did? Where is he, then?”

  “He’s with his peoples,” Joe interjected, a little too loudly for Caitlin’s liking. They were in a public space, and she wasn’t sure she was ready for the wider population to know that the band of strangers had been up past hours chasing a Were across the city.

  “I don’t understand,” Izzy said, then added. “Your hearing is impeccable.”

  Joe picked his head up, a trail of oats and fruit painting a white line in his beard. He cupped his ear in their direction. “What’s that now?”

  Caitlin couldn’t help but join the others in laughter at how ridiculous their friend looked. A few heads turned from farther down the bench to investigate the disturbance before they directed their attention to their own meals.

  “I’ll explain later when we’re somewhere more…private,” Caitlin said.

  “Fine.” Izzy rolled her eyes. “Keep your secrets, and I’ll keep mine. I intended to invite you lot on a reconnaissance mission today, but I might change my mind, now. What do you think, fellas?”

  Howard, Oscar, and Dwight turned with grins on their faces and nodded goofily.

  “They probably can’t handle it, to be fair.” Howard guffawed.

  “That’s right. A mission which involves joining two of the city’s search parties, so…it’s likely we’ve already got more than enough people. Forget that I mentioned anything.”

  Izzy returned her focus theatrically to her food and feigned ignorance at the expression on Caitlin’s face. The rest of the Revolutionaries’ ears had pricked up, too, as they tried to imagine what kind of reconnaissance mission could be required in a city like this.

  “Is it the Weres?” Vex asked from across the table.

  A couple of heads turned again.

  “Hush,” Izzy snapped. “No, it’s not Weres.” She waited a moment for the general curiosity to subside. “We’ll tell you everything after breakfast. Act casual until then, tidy yourselves up, and get ready to meet us outside.”

  “Who’s ‘us?’” Caitlin shifted in her chair while she did her best to ignore the warmth of Izzy’s leg against her own. She also tried not to stare into the emerald eyes. “Can you at least give us a hint?”

  The other girl touched a finger to her chin and a cheeky smile played on her face again. “Let’s just say that there’s Madness afoot. And Triston has personally asked us to investigate.”

  Caitlin’s gaze shifted to the front of the atrium and a long table on a raised platform. Seated directly in the middle on an unnecessarily ornate chair was Felicia, the city’s stand-in leader.

  With Alicia, the town’s true leader, currently held captive by Weres in the sewers, her sister, Felicia, had adopted the role without question on behalf of her sibling.

  At her side, freshly shaven and with a jawline that would make women’s knees buckle, sat Triston—Alicia’s only living son. He was regal in his appearance but lived under Felicia’s shadow. Caitlin had seen his bravery on the battlefield the last time the Mad had broken through the gates and stampeded through the city.

  “It must be something real fun if buddy boy wants to hop down from his throne and play with the regular kids,” Vex grumbled as he ladled another splash of food into his bowl. “It could be worthwhile.”

  “Yeah,” Caitlin said and met Izzy’s gaze. “It could be fun.”

  Ashdale Pond, Old Ontario

  The sun was hot on Mabel’s back as she scurried through the town.

  Viewed from afar, the old woman was nothing more than a blip on the landscape. Her skin was pale and her dress a clean white that was unheard of in the little town of Ashdale Pond. How she kept her clothes so bright and clean was a secret which she carried incredibly close to her heart and refused to share with anyone, no matter what the price.

  “Don’t give me currency. Give me experience,” she would often say before the lucidity of her memory faded and her mumblings would devolve into something more akin to the narration of a diary where pages had been skipped.

  “Seven times…that would make a much better deal.”

  “I wonder whatever happened to Harmony and her fella.”

  “Those bastards never did give me my book back.”

  Now, though, Mabel moved through the town as fast as her little legs could carry her. She had sent herself out on an errand—something she had been unable to do with such freedom when the town had been under the thumb of the pastor and his Firestarters. Now, her arms were held at her sides and weighed down with several shopping bags.

  As she rounded a corner, she stroked the few wisps of hair on her aged chin with an elbow and stared across the street, unaware that her grandson, Jamie, watched her from the window of their house.

  She readjusted her bags and took a few steps forward before a hand clamped on her shoulder.

  “Not now, Sandra. Can’t you see I’ve got my taxes to get on with?”

  But when Mabel turned, it wasn’t her at all. Sandra had been worm food for more than forty years. Instead, she looked into the face of a Mad. Its eyes blazed and its mouth opened wide to reveal rotting yellow teeth.

  “Nana! Watch out!” Jamie shouted and sprinted across the street with a block of wood gripped in his hand like a club.

  She took a step back, narrowed her eyes, and swung her bag at the Mad’s head. It stumbled backward but lurched toward her again. The old lady struck from the other side. The canvas material split and spilled fruits and sundries across the ground.

  “Oh, for goodness sake,” she said, more annoyed at the bag breaking than at the Mad trying to eat her flesh.

  It attacked her again, its arms outstretched, and squished an orange with its foot. As the creature grabbed her shoulder again, Jamie rushed alongside and swung the block of wood as hard as possible to knock the Mad to the ground.

  It wriggled, clearly not satisfied, until he sighed and clobbered it once, then twice more.

  “Nana, are you okay?” he asked, panting and with concern in his eyes.

  “Sandra’s let herself go,” she said simply.

  He rolled his eyes and led her back to the house. She paused outside and looked at the building as though it was the first time she’d seen it.

  “Something’s changed,” she muttered. “Yes…yes… Something’s different…”

  “Yes, Nana. Something has changed.” He gestured at the front door. “The whole fucking house burned down and has been rebuilt. I know your memory is going, but jeesh! How can you not remember that?”

  Mabel stood a moment longer without showing a sign that she had seen the man now beside her at the door.

  Eventually, her eyes met his. “Oh! I didn’t see you there, Barnabas. Am I in time for tea?”

  She strode past her grandson and paused only long enough to pat his cheek and say, “And less of the blue language, dear. I won’t invite you back in with those sorts of manners.”

  Jamie stood, flummoxed. “I live here,” he said disbelievingly and shook his head.

  Guided by nothing more than an instinct developed over her nearly one hundred years of life, Mabel hobbled around the house and unpacked her foodstuff. She moved around the house without a second thought as Jamie watched. He leaned on the door jamb, deep in thought.

  “Nana?”

  “Can it wait, dear?”

  “For what?”

  “Cynthia will be around soon, and you know how she gets if dinner’s not ready exactly when I said it would be.”

  “But Nana?”

  “Hmm?”

  Jamie paused a moment a
nd watched with an expression which told of love and amusement. He was used to seeing his Nana in a constant state of confusion and of having unanswered questions and allowing her to go about her way. But Christy had left for Silver Creek several days before and still hadn’t returned or sent news of her arrival. That, coupled with the fact that this was the second time he’d had to save his Nana from Mad, made the cogs in Jamie’s mind start to whir.

  “I think it’s time to move on.”

  “Move on?” Mabel lifted her glasses and scratched the corner of her eye. “Move on to where, dear? Ashdale Pond is home. Lovely, lovely home.”

  “I know, but…you’re getting on now and don’t you think it would be better to be somewhere safe? Somewhere with—”

  “A working ATM? Of course! But the power has been down for years, love. There’s no way to get any currency from the walls.” Mabel looked forlornly out of the window. “All that money…gone to waste…”

  “No, I meant somewhere with walls. Somewhere with a gate. Somewhere safer for you.”

  Jamie paused. He hadn’t truly realized it until that moment, but the thought had percolated in his brain for months now. Ever since the uprising of the Firestarters, in fact, and since Caitlin had sent Jamie and Mabel to safety during the battle for Ashdale Pond. Half the town had burned to the ground, and even the Mad had stepped in for a play in the sandbox.

  He hated to admit it, but life wasn’t safe for a ninety-six-year-old woman in this day and age. And with Mabel’s shopping trips and excursions outside for longer hours each day, he fretted more and more. Although the alarm system worked for the younger members of the town, would he always be around to help his Nana if a stray Mad arrived?

  Caitlin had placed him in charge of Ashdale Pond when she had left, and he had done his damnedest to ensure that the town prospered and thrived. But every day which passed saw him struggle more and more with the desire to lead and the desire to keep his Nana safe at all costs.

  And with Christy out there on the road… Well, that was another distraction.

  Now that he’d said the words out loud, he wondered why he hadn’t thought of it in the first place. Had his love for his family home stumped his sensibilities? Would Ashdale Pond survive without him?

  Of course, it would, Jamie chided himself. You’ve hardly been a leader in these last few weeks, have you? The people have stepped up and done their duty without issue. Hell! Even the former pastor’s wife has taken the lead and done everything her husband was supposed to do in his reign as leader.

  To Jamie’s surprise, Mabel only laughed a full belly laugh which rolled inside her. She screwed her eyes tightly shut as she doubled over and wheezed.

  “Safe!” she managed at last between deep breaths. “Safer than home? You must be out of your mind, son. I’ve lived in this town all my life. What makes you think I’d be any better off anywhere else?”

  Her eyes grew keen as a calmness swept over her. Jamie was used to these sudden changes in her mental state and exhaled as he realized his Nana had suddenly grown lucid and her head now joined him in the present day.

  She looked around the house as a stranger might view it and took in the changes and the newly built furniture and decor.

  “This isn’t my home,” she said with sudden sadness. “Jamie, what happened to my home?”

  Once again, he explained what had happened—the fight, the fire, and their saviors. He guided Mabel to the sitting room and brought her into the now, but all the while he wondered how long it would be until he had to do it all over again.

  “And now Christy is gone?”

  Jamie nodded. “For a few days now. I know she can look after herself, but still…I’d like to be sure. And I can’t leave you alone here. You know that.”

  Mabel closed her eyes in thought. “It will have to be the wheelbarrow, you know.”

  Jamie sighed. He had lost her again. He wondered how long it would be before he would see another lucid period.

  “Goodbye, Nana,” he said quietly.

  “What do you mean, ‘bye?’” Mabel snapped. “I wasn’t playing silly buggers. Get the damn wheelbarrow and push me. I’ll pack my things, and we can be out of this shithole in no time.”

  “You mean—”

  “Yeah, yeah. Let’s take a road trip.” She scooted off the sofa and, with surprising speed now, made for the stairs. “Let me pack a few things first. If we’re going out on the road, we don’t know what we’ll find. It’s best to keep safe from the Mad.”

  Jamie watched as Mabel disappeared up the stairs, a wry smile on his face. He imagined it now—an ambush of half a dozen Mad with red eyes and hunger etched on their faces.

  And his ancient, wizened Nana fighting them off with her handbag.

  He chuckled and followed her trail, ready to pack his own things.

  Chapter Four

  The Broken City, Old Ontario

  “Is your buddy boy often late, or does he simply like making grand entrances?”

  Caitlin shivered in the early morning light. A soft mist drifted through the streets of The Broken City and the moisture teased her skin into goose pimples up and down her flesh. They had stood in the relative quiet for at least half an hour now, and still, there was no sign of Triston and his men.

  “Are you sure we haven’t been set up?”

  Izzy inspected the tip of her gun idly and scrubbed at flecks of dirt. “He’ll be here. I’m sure of it.” Caitlin folded her arms. “Wow, patience really isn’t your thing, is it?”

  Vex and Belle glanced at each other and grinned.

  “What?” Caitlin exclaimed.

  “Well, she’s right, isn’t she?” Belle said. “You’re much more of a doer than a waiter. Ever since you saved us from New Leaf and cleared good ol’ Gov’ Trisk from the Creek, you’ve been nonstop.”

  “And that’s a bad thing?”

  “Not at all,” Belle continued. “Let’s be honest, we’re all in a better place now, aren’t we?”

  Vex shivered. “Sure. Stood in the center of a crumbling town with the shivers, waiting for a pretty boy with no sense of time or agenda. Seems perfect to me.”

  Belle slapped his arm. “You know what I’m saying. I mean, where would we be now? I’d still be under the thumb of a brute in a forced relationship. Mary-Anne would still be asleep, growing weaker and weaker in her mansion. Joe would be stuck in his garbage lot with a decaying wife—sorry, Joe. Tom and Laurie… Well…I’ll be honest, I don’t know what the hell you’d be doing. I hardly know either of you. And Vex…well, I imagine you’d be abusing some poor woman and forcing her to wipe your ass.”

  “Hey! Out of all the bastards who lived in New Leaf, I’d say I was a damn sight more human than the rest. I chose to come with our shining savior, didn’t I?”

  Caitlin smiled at the memory. The rescue of New Leaf seemed so long ago—toppling the governor’s men and giving the Revolutionaries a real sense of freedom. Maybe Belle was right. Maybe Caitlin was a bit shit at being patient.

  Mental note. Be more patient. And quickly.

  “She’s right, Kitty-Cat. You’ve certainly had an impact. But, dear Lord, you could calm the fuck down sometimes.”

  Jaxon barked as if in agreement.

  “What is this? Gang up on Caitlin day?” She grinned as she looked at them as they waited, assembled and ready to go. “Anyway, can we change the subject, and can you finally tell us what we’re doing here?”

  Izzy turned to the revolving doors behind her. The building was huge—one of the last skyscrapers and which looked to be in a surprisingly neat condition aside from the broken windows along the front.

  “I can’t,” she said.

  “Why not?”

  “Because he will.” Izzy pointed behind them to where a handful of figures emerged from the veil of mist.

  The new arrivals moved in a V shape with Triston in the lead. His thick brown hair rolled in waves, and he looked almost regal in his leather armor with a pistol at his side
and a sheathed short sword on the other.

  Flanking him on either side were two men and two women, though none of them could compare with his good looks. If Triston was a blooming rose, the rest were the thorns.

  “Well met,” he said, his voice deep and rich. “Good. I see you haven’t started without us.”

  How could we? Caitlin thought. We have no fucking idea why we’re here.

  “Scouts have reported several disturbances in this building. Strange cries, shadows appearing in the windows, and debris flung into the street.”

  “And?” Tom asked. He trailed slightly behind Caitlin, Triston, and Izzy who led the way, treading carefully over broken glass, fallen furniture, and shattered computer pieces. “What’s the problem? Surely it’s not that unusual in a city like this.”

  Izzy clambered over a fallen desk. “The problem is that we haven’t given permission for anyone to stay here, let alone make themselves at home. If people are hiding here, we need to know who. Everyone in the library is accounted for.”

  “You thinks someones chose to lives here? I’s be surprised. This place be a dumpster.” Joe wrinkled his nose in disgust.

  Now that they were in the safe shade of the building, Mary-Anne turned and lowered her hood to expose the quizzical expression on her face. “You know you used to live in a garbage lot?”

  “My land was always filthy, but I kepts it clean, yes I did.”

  “What does that even mean?” Tom asked incredulously.

  Laurie and Belle giggled into their hands.

  “It means I know the clean spots, and me and Violet kept the place tidy. This here is covereds in dust, and bloods, and I don’t knows what else. Aye.”

  “Your little friend is right.” Triston turned a corner and started up a set of stairs. “There’s a lot we still don’t know about the city. Despite the years we’ve occupied it, we’ve never been able to fully flush out the Mad, the broken, or the wretched. Every time we clear one sector, there’s a disturbance in another.”