The Caitlin Chronicles Boxed Set

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The Caitlin Chronicles Boxed Set Page 32

by Michael Anderle


  Still, they hadn’t found them all yet. Out of the nineteen or so they knew to be in Silver Creek, they had dealt with six, and now another six were lined up and waiting. That left seven somewhere else in town that Sullivan had either missed, or they were deliberately hiding.

  That didn’t bode well.

  Sullivan entered the room, his bulk filling most of the doorway. As he took his place by Ash’s side, Laurie stepped up to the plate. The guards, now cloaked from head to foot in protective clothing, had taken great pleasure in undressing her, and now Ash sat leaning back in his chair, doing his best not to stare at her.

  Instead, he counted the remaining newcomers.

  “What are you doing back here? That’s not all of them,” Ash said.

  “I’ve found as many as I can. I’ve also sent several other men to find the ones who are missing.” Sullivan was slightly breathless, his forehead peppered with sweat from running around all day.

  Ash raised an eyebrow as Laurie took a seat, her body statuesque in the glow of the guard’s lantern. Her eyes found his. “They’re hiding?”

  “Not hiding, I don’t think. Rather, either asleep in other people’s homes, or just around the town. We’ll find them all and bring them in, I promise.” Sullivan hung his head, almost expecting to be reprimanded for his failure.

  Ash waved him away, watching as the examiner raised Laurie’s arm to a right angle and looked in the crook of her armpit. As her arms lowered, he couldn’t help but notice her breasts wobble delicately. Her gaze did not leave his. “No problem. As you say, we’ll get them all in the end. Keep up the good work.”

  Sullivan followed Ash’s eyes and finally realized where he was looking. He seemed to grow suddenly uncomfortable. “Oh, and…er…I was asked by Miss Alice to let you know that the Revolutionaries have been briefed on their new training regime.”

  At the sound of Alice’s name, Ash looked up at Sullivan, breaking eye contact with Laurie.

  “Oh. Yes. Good,” he said, shifting uncomfortably. “Good.”

  Vex had grown fond of Belle a lot more quickly than he ever imagined he would. As a guy in his mid-thirties, he’d had a group of his own friends at New Leaf. Most had been the sad fucks who stayed behind when the Revolutionaries formed and moved on to Silver Creek.

  Idiots with more pride than sense.

  Ha. Suckers.

  But he had never really bothered with anyone outside his own gender or age. Belle was the polar opposite of everything he had ever known, and he was learning to love her.

  Not in a romantic way.

  Fuck, no.

  More in a brotherly way.

  He’d had her back during the battle at Silver Creek gates, leaping over defending guards and helping her out of tight spots—not that she really needed it. Belle certainly knew her way around her daggers. Her small and nimble frame was enough to help her wriggle out of any situation like a slippery fish in the bare hands of a fisherman. And now, he was glad that they had paired up and been given the same duties.

  “Take your time. We’re in no rush. Just tell us what you know when you’re ready.” Belle’s soft voice spoke encouragement as they sat across from a weary-looking woman and her son, who was about eight years of age.

  Belle was perfect for this. Vex mostly sat quietly, letting Belle do most of the talking. Though he believed he had his own charm when it came to getting information out of people, Belle’s method was certainly a lot more kind.

  And a lot less invasive.

  Though even that hadn’t really helped them, Vex thought as the tired woman refused to speak and simply shook her head. Belle dismissed her and exhaled.

  “What is with these people?” She scowled and leaned back with her head against the wall. It was their job to interview those who had already been marked as clean by Ash and his group. “We take them in. We give them a home. We provide them with security which, by any means and measure, is damn near impossible these days, and they won’t talk.”

  Vex nodded glumly. “Someone will, I’m sure of it. Whatever it is that’s got them spooked enough to run here won’t have affected them all. We’ll get to the bottom of it, one way or the other.”

  Vex flexed his biceps, then cracked his knuckles.

  “Not like that we won’t,” Belle said sharply. “Interrogation won’t get us anywhere.”

  It felt strange being told what not to do by a girl, much less a girl of Belle’s age and size. Vex supposed he was okay with it, considering he had already taken orders from Caitlin when they left New Leaf.

  What a world to live in. One minute, the men held the power. The next…

  “You’ve clearly never been tortured,” Vex said playfully, prodding Belle in the arm. “You’ve never had your toenails peeled up from the skin. You’ve never had fire held to your open eyeball. I bet you’ve never even had a thorn stuck in your side.” He watched her shudder. “You don’t even know what pain is, do you?”

  Belle pinched her nose and waved her hand. “Pain is sitting here and getting a waft of your stinking breath every time you open your mouth. C’mon, man. I know we’re busy these days, but that shouldn’t stop basic personal hygiene.”

  Vex’s face dropped. He cupped his mouth, exhaled, then sniffed.

  Not bad, but not great.

  Still, not bad was better than bad.

  “Yeah, well…” Vex said, trying to regain some face. “Real pain is facing the rest of the apocalypse with you. Talk about a thorn in my side? I think I’ve got one.”

  She feigned offense and slapped him on the chest.

  “A-hem,” came a cough from behind. They turned and saw a man waiting patiently. He wore an eyepatch, and his left arm was studded with crudely drawn and badly finished tattoos.

  Where the hell he had found the ink, Vex had no idea. The last time he had seen anything that closely resembled a tattoo was a girl who had turned Mad as she ran at the barbed wire surrounding his old village and caught her legs in the trap. The scratches had been created like zig-zags in parallel, but that hadn’t slowed her down. She kept running and running as pieces of skin tore off, the Madness fueling her forward against common sense until all that was left were shreds of skin and a torso crawling on the floor.

  When he had clubbed her head, she had fallen on her face. On the back of her neck was a symbol of a skull with leering red eyes.

  “I heard you want to ask some questions?” the man said.

  Belle and Vex looked at each other. This was the first person who had stepped up to the plate who seemed even remotely happy to talk.

  “Sure, sure. Take a seat,” Belle instructed.

  The man obliged. When he sat comfortably, he looked up and nodded. “Sergeant Hitchcock at your service, though my friends call me Tom.”

  Vex and Belle introduced themselves.

  “Wow, a sergeant?” Belle said, impressed. “What does that mean?”

  “It means that the world is dead and I can call myself whatever the hell I want,” Tom said with a grin that brightened his face. “My mother told me my great-great-grandfather was one of the armed forces. Fought for the country. Died for the country. One of the lost ones who fell when the world did. Though there’s no real organization these days to defend us—or none that I know, anyway—I figured I’d take the title myself. Who knows? One day, it might come in handy.”

  “I like your spunk,” Vex said, admiring the man’s bravado.

  “I bet you do,” Belle said with a sidelong look.

  “Hey, your tastes are your tastes, my friend. But I’ll keep my tongue on the carpet rather than the broom handle, if you know what I mean?” Tom said, making a crude gesture with his hand and mouth.

  “No, no. That’s not what I meant!” Vex said, burning red. “I meant I appreciate your gusto. You’re the first newcomer through these doors today who has had any kind of interest in talking to us.”

  “Well, I’ll tell you what I can. Your man, Sullivan, has told me that this is some serious
shit. Whatever I can do to help, I will.”

  Vex sat forward in his chair. “Well, why don’t we start with where the hell everyone has come from. Why are so many people wandering through the forest to get to our humble little abode?”

  At that, Tom’s eyebrows raised. “Wow, straight to it, huh?”

  Vex and Belle waited patiently.

  “It’s like this, my friend. Folks are refusing to talk to you because they’re scared of what might happen to them if they do. Some of them are scared that you won’t believe them if they told you. I don’t know if you’ve noticed, but it ain’t all sunshine and rainbows out there these days. There are some nasty things in the world—some things worse than the Mad. And those things sometimes use fire to make a point.”

  “What things are you talking about?” Belle asked, putting aside her nice girl routine as curiosity got the better of her. “What could be worse than the Mad?”

  “People.” Tom said it without hesitation. “People who have been corrupted by the world. People who have been molded by fear and hate and hurt. People with an unresolved strength like I’ve never seen and a belief in the Lord that borders on psychotic. People with the power to influence and brainwash.”

  Tom looked around the room then. He glanced out the window to where a couple of children giggled and played, chasing some insect through the air.

  “We ain’t all half as lucky as you guys to have built a town like this. A place that’s safe. My guess is that the people you’ve spoken to are scared that if they tell you where they’ve come from, then this—Silver Creek—will disappear too. They’ve already lost their homes, their place in the world, their identity. They’re clinging on to whatever the hell they’ve now got left. They’ve been lucky enough to stumble across this place in the middle of a friggin’ forest, and now, they’re holding on.” Tom scratched the back of his neck and reclined in his chair. “I feel sorry for the poor bastards still wandering aimlessly out there in the woods,” he added under his breath.

  “There are still people out there?” Belle gasped, turning to Vex. “We have to do something. They’re sitting ducks out there in the forest.”

  Vex sat in thought a moment. “Who are these people? Why are they doing this?”

  “Nothing more than bullies under a spell,” Tom said. “Though they have a name for themselves. Firestarters.”

  “Firestarters?” Belle repeated, catching Vex’s eye. They were both clearly thinking the same thing, that there was maybe something in what Ash had told the CoR of the Mad man at the wall.

  “Yeah, like an old song or some shit. Their mission is to convert all to their way of thinking, to worship the Lord and the prophet, and to burn any who stand in their way.” Tom lifted the bottom of his trousers and revealed a patch of skin that was sore and blistered. The skin was warped and stretched from the burn. “I fought against them. They burned my home while I slept. Our village is shrinking day by day as more people flee in fear, fancying their chances of survival in the forest over the medieval witch-burning that’s happening at home.”

  “That sounds awful,” Belle said, trying to imagine it. Her mind easily conjured wooden houses turned white and orange in flame and a faceless group terrorizing a town and setting fire to all who stood in their way.

  “Where is this town?” Vex asked, wishing Caitlin had made a copy of that map of hers. “What’s its name?”

  Tom raised his eyepatch and revealed nothing but skin and a small divot where his eye had been before the flesh had reclaimed his face. He reached a finger and scratched around the edges, then lowered it back in place. “I’m not sure I could tell you where it is. That forest is like a fucking labyrinth. But I’m sure it wouldn’t be too hard to find once they start burning again. Just look out for the black smoke pluming into the sky, head that way, and you’ll soon reach Ashdale Pond.” He paused, letting out a shallow chuckle. “Our little piece of heaven.”

  Chapter Eight

  Ashdale Pond, Old Ontario

  Caitlin peeked out from behind the shed, suppressing her impatience with a strong instinct for caution.

  Not too far away, a man with a wide-brimmed hat and a grease-stained vest top worked a plot of land. It seemed the outskirts of Ashdale pond were bordered with a checkerboard of miscellaneous allotments, though this was the first man they’d seen since they arrived.

  She watched him with a quiet fascination. He seemed at peace as he turned the soil, occasionally crouching to remove a handful of weeds. Behind him, a rusted wheelbarrow was piled high with misshapen spuds.

  “What do we think? Is he a threat?” Kain whispered into Caitlin’s ear. Jaxon waited patiently between them, resting on his hindquarters.

  Caitlin scanned the rest of the area. Just beyond the allotments many houses sprawled in the first light of the day. Big wooden constructions, each with their own unique shape, meant a town. Though the sun was rising, she figured that it would be a while still before most of the townspeople came out and greeted the day. This solitary farmer seemed to be the odd exception, already taking on his tasks despite the late night the congregation had spent in the church.

  “I don’t think so. Let’s check.”

  She picked up a rock and threw it a little way ahead. It landed squarely between the shed and the man.

  “Huh?” he said, taking a second to stretch his back and wipe his forehead. “Who goes there?”

  Caitlin and Kain remained silent, waiting for curiosity to kill the cat. To Caitlin’s satisfaction, the man wandered over to where the rock had landed. He turned it over in his hand, looked around him as if thinking things through, then decided to continue forward in their direction.

  Caitlin revealed herself when he reached the shadow of the shed, stepping out with her hands in the air and a smile on her face.

  The man jumped. He grabbed the handle of his hoe and raised it, ready to strike, until his eyes caught Caitlin’s and he calmed. “Praise be! You scared the ba-jeesus out of me, miss. I thought you might be Mad. What are you doing back there?”

  “Not having sex outdoors, I can assure you,” Kain said, stepping out from behind Caitlin. She rolled her eyes.

  The man raised his hoe again.

  “Ignore him,” Caitlin said, taking a step forward and smiling. Jaxon followed from behind, sniffed the ground, and made his way over to the man. He paused at his feet, then began licking the toes of his boots. “Please.”

  The stranger watched Jaxon, and his face softened. “Who are you folks? You know it doesn’t do well to sneak around and jump out on people like that. Not these days.” A shadow crossed his face as he looked back at the town and into the sky where a trail of smoke wound into the clouds. “Especially not these days.”

  “A truth we know only too well,” Caitlin said. “So, let’s get to know one another. My name is Caitlin Harrison of Silver Creek, and this here is Kain Sudeikis.”

  “How do you do?” Kain said, doffing his hood.

  “Jamie Crawley. Pleased to meet you.” He leaned down to stroke Jaxon. “And who is this wonderful little ball of fluff down here? I haven’t seen anything as cute as him since the day my mama birthed me.”

  “Oh, that’s Jaxon,” Caitlin said, joining Jamie in giving the pooch a good pet. “He’s our star player.” Jaxon flopped onto the ground and showed his belly, panting and rolling as the two laughed. Kain leaned against the shed, his arms folded.

  “Erm… Cat?” Kain coughed.

  “Oh, right,” Caitlin stood. “We’re sorry to disturb you, Jamie, but we were actually wondering if we could ask a few questions. We’re new around here and, to put it bluntly, we’re looking for someone. Could you maybe point us in the direction of your tavern or somewhere we could ask for answers?”

  “Sure thing,” Jamie said. “Which tavern would you like to go to?”

  “There’s more than one?” Caitlin asked, incredulous.

  Jamie laughed. “Aye, three to be exact. You’ve got the Spit & Bucket on the sout
h side of town—that’s just a ways over there where the roof peaks high.” They followed his finger to where a dark wooden roof zigzagged higher than the rest of the houses. “There’s the Horse & Master across on the east side, then we’ve got the Cloak & Dagger down in the suburbs.” He leaned in conspiratorially. “Though I’d recommend you stay back from that one if I were you. A lot of…unsavory folk take to the Cloak. If you fancy yourselves honorable, you’d do best to stay clear.”

  “And what’s over that way?” Caitlin said, pointing at the gray column of smoke. It came in thick bursts, rising like a ribbon then dispelling into the atmosphere. Beyond it, several smaller plumes rose like visible echoes.

  “Oh, that? That’s over near the Cloak. As I say, a lot of unsavory folks… Shit. Hide. Quick.” Jamie stopped talking, but his abrupt silence did nothing to hide the sudden wariness that defined him, his eyes alert now as he looked around. At first, Caitlin could see nothing to explain his behavior, but she believed his urgency. She grabbed Jaxon and disappeared behind the shed with Kain. Jamie returned to the patch where he had been digging before he had been interrupted.

  “What the fuck was that about?” Kain whispered into Caitlin’s ear.

  “No idea—”

  “There he is!” came a gruff, mocking voice. “Morning Jay-Jay.”

  “Good morning to you both, and what a beautiful one at that,” Jamie replied.

  Caitlin leaned cautiously around the corner. Approaching Jamie was a man and a woman, each wearing dark shirts with rips and tears. The man sported a thick beard which spilled to his chest, the woman a shorn head. Their arms were slick with what appeared to be a mixture of sweat and soot. On their right biceps, they each had a tattoo of a church in flames.

  “We didn’t see you at last night’s congregation,” the woman said.

  “Yeah. You think you’re too good for Pastor Andrews’ sermons? Not ready to yield with the other sheep, yet?” the other jibed.

  Jamie shuffled nervously. “Oh, come now, Christy, you know I don’t think like that.” Caitlin felt a twang of pity as Jamie looked imploringly at the girl. “Someone’s got to be bright-eyed and ready to nourish the crop while the town sleeps.”

 

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