Hunting The Broken: Age Of Madness - A Kurtherian Gambit Series (The Caitlin Chronicles Book 3)

by Daniel Willcocks

  “Dangerous as fuck. A barbed wire fence to keep out the Mad. Patriarchal bullshit keeping me trapped inside.”

  “And how is that any different to now?” He grinned.

  She thought for a moment. “Because back then, I didn’t have you constantly muttering in my ear. The headaches you give me, brother. You have no idea.”

  They sat in silence, watching the others in Mother Wendy’s while sipping their drinks.

  “Suppose I do want to leave—and I’m not saying I do. But suppose I’m tempted. What then? Caitlin and the others are way out there somewhere now. We’d never catch them. They’d never want us there.” Belle drained her drink and leaned her head back against the wall. “We’ve got our orders.”

  Vex finished his own drink and placed it on the table. “Well, my dear sweet innocent child,” he teased. “Some rules are made to be broken.

  Across the room, the group of people around Sully burst into laughter. Sully watched them all curiously, then laughed a moment later when the joke finally sank in.

  Vex nodded to Belle. “Come on. Follow me.”

  Silver Creek Forest, Old Ontario

  Dylan found the strange people a little way ahead, not too far from the Mad pit.

  “Tell me what I’m looking at here,” Ash whispered beside him, unable to comprehend it.

  It was the start of a small village. A little way ahead in the trees they could see no more than a handful of houses crudely made from strips of wood. Though, where New Leaf had been a town which had created a clearing in the forest for their accommodation, this settlement seemed to incorporate the forest into its design. Great boughs of trees appeared through the roofs, with vines and foliage wrapping around the houses and decorating the outside.

  “I suppose that’s one way to plant your roots,” Ash added.

  Dylan grinned.

  They watched as the group of naked men and women joined several others around a small fire. There were logs set up like benches, and a large fat man with a headdress made of bracken and animal skins stirred the contents of a large pot suspended above the flames.

  Across from the fat man sat three women so ancient that, for a moment, Dylan mistook them as part of the log. Their bodies were shriveled and wrinkled, and they seemed to have to squint to see.

  “If you’re thinking of starting an orgy, I’m going to sit this one out,” Huckle muttered from behind, eliciting a small chuckle from Flo which she stifled with her hand.

  “Who do you think they are?” Alice asked in a barely audible whisper.

  Dylan looked at his map. By his calculations, they shouldn’t have encountered anyone yet. If he was tracking as accurately as he thought he was, this patch on the map should be nothing more than trees, trees, and more fucking trees.

  “I don’t know,” Dylan said.

  “What? You’re telling us the governor’s map is as big a piece of shit as he was?” Ash asked.

  “Not exactly. His map has been right about everything else so far. This is just an…”

  “Anomaly?” Alice finished for Dylan.

  “Sure, that too.”

  There were around two dozen of them, overall. Tall, short, fat, skinny—you name it. A rather diverse bunch.

  “What do we do now, Captain, my Captain?” Huckle asked.

  Dylan didn’t respond. To the Revolutionaries’ surprise, he began walking ahead. He made no effort to conceal his footsteps, so leaves and twigs snapped beneath him. Immediately, the strangers’ attention turned to him. They stood as one, their eyes wide. Several members of the group—those whom they had watched at the pit earlier—grabbed a series of long sticks with sharpened rocks tied to their ends.

  Dylan raised his hands, slowing his step. His eyes met the fat man’s, and they watched each other unblinkingly for a long moment.

  When he reached the edge of the firelight, he paused. The tribesmen cast sideways glances at each other, clearly uncertain.

  Slowly, Dylan lowered an arm and pointed at himself. “I’ve not come to hurt you, friends,” he said.

  The man whom he recognized as the pig-thrower took a step forward, jabbing his spear into the air.

  Dylan didn’t flinch.

  The pig-thrower cocked his head and looked back at the fat man who nodded with a grunt in Dylan’s direction. He looked at where they were nodding and saw his sword at his side.

  “Ah, no problem.” He untied the belt with studied care and letting the sword fall to the floor.

  The pig-thrower nodded again.

  “And this?” Dylan asked, tugging the string of his bow. “Sure.”

  The pig-thrower looked back at the fat man again, who nodded. Seemingly, he was satisfied.

  “Friends,” Dylan said so slowly that, were he speaking to anyone at Silver Creek, he imagined them taking great offense and punching him in the face. “Do you speak English?”

  The overture received no response except stares that revealed nothing.

  “Eeeng-lish?” Dylan repeated. “I meeean youuu nooo haaaarm.”

  The fat man met the pig-thrower’s eyes again. They stared intensely at each other before their faces cracked and they all burst into laughter. The entire group doubled over, clutching stomachs and their genitalia flapping about with each paroxysm of amusement.

  Dylan raised an eyebrow and watched them all. He suddenly felt super exposed, which was strange, really. He was the only one wearing clothes.

  “Ah. man,” the pig-thrower said, wiping a tear from his eye. “You should have seen what you looked like.” He opened his eyes wide and performed a crude impression of Dylan, “‘Eeen-glish. I meeean youuu nooo haaarm.’ Man, I hope that’s not how you try to pick up the ladies.”

  The humor was infectious. Dylan allowed himself a chuckle along with the others. “I’m sorry, I didn’t mean to patronize you or act stupid. But you play ‘native-tribesmen-with-no-grasp-of-English’ so damn well.”

  “And you play ‘I’m-an-advanced-species’ so poorly.” The pig-thrower winked. He looked past Dylan and into the trees. “Look, tell your friends to come out from hiding and join us for some grub. It’s nice to have visitors here from outside.”

  “You’ve known we’ve been here?” Dylan gasped.

  “Oh, yeah. The whole time. You guys aren’t exactly the quietest folks in these woods, are you?” The pig-thrower whistled. “Hey! Chumps! Your cover is blown. Come on down and join us, unless you fancy your chances out there with the Mad?” He laughed and turned back to the fire to take a seat. “‘Eeeen-glish.’ Man! That’s funny.”

  Dylan watched as his crew emerged uncertainly from the trees. He waved them over with a grin. “Come on, guys. They’re cool.”

  Abandoned Factory, Silver Creek Forest, Old Ontario

  Caitlin awoke to the sound of a door squeaking.

  In her groggy state, her first thought was of her father pushing her bedroom door open gently to give her a kiss before he headed out to work with the rangers. His thick beard scratched her face as she reached up to hug his neck.

  Until the sound of footsteps echoed through the factory from below.

  Fuck. Someone’s here, Caitlin thought as she sat up sharply, her senses now on alert. Mary-Anne stood at the foreman’s open door and looked down into the factory floor.

  “What is it?” Caitlin whispered.

  The vampire’s face was solemn. “Mad. At least a dozen of them.”

  “Do they know we’re here?”

  Mary-Anne shook her head. “I wouldn’t say so. Not yet, anyway. The first bumped into the door and fell on its ass. The others followed the noise. They know the guys following us are here, though.”

  Caitlin’s eyebrow raised, and she joined Mary-Anne at the door, watching the Mad fumble around each other and knock into the ancient equipment. “What do you mean, ‘the guys following us?’ Have you even slept?”

  “A power nap,” Mary-Anne replied. “We’ve been followed for several days now.”

  “Followed?
By who? If it’s Vex disobeying orders, I’m going to cut his scrotum off.”

  “Always the balls with you, isn’t it?” her companion sneered. “If I didn’t know better, I’d say that you’re in need of a good plugging. Get the hormones out of your system. I’m sure Kain wouldn’t mind giving you a hand with that. He’s randier than a handful of rabbits on Viagra.”

  “Viagra?”

  “An old medicine that kept your…you know what? Doesn’t matter. I’m not sure who’s following us, but they’re sharp. Sneaky. I’ve tried to keep track, but every time I even get a whiff of them, they’re gone again.”

  “We need to get rid of them and shake them off our trail.”

  Mary-Anne nodded her agreement. “What about the zombs downstairs?”

  Caitlin grinned.

  The vampire returned the smile. “I was hoping you’d say that.”

  They snuck downstairs—friggin’ hard to do considering the metal groaned with every step. Luckily, the sound only reverberated around the factory, confusing the Mad more. When they reached the ground floor, Caitlin drew Moxie from her belt and prepared herself.

  “Ready?” Caitlin whispered.

  “Do you even have to ask?” Mary-Anne’s fangs extended as her eyes lit up like fireworks.

  Caitlin charged silently forward, surprising a Mad with a swift up-slash which unzipped their back. Blood spilled to the floor as the creature gasped and crumpled into a pile.

  “There are nicer ways to do that, y’know?” Mary-Anne pointed out as she sped forward at double Caitlin’s speed, launching into the air before she alighted on a Mad’s shoulders, pulled his head with both hands, and ripped the damn thing off.

  “Hypocrite.” Caitlin laughed.

  “Oi! Hope you’re saving some for me,” Kain shouted down from the walkway. “Where was my invite to the party?”

  Mary-Anne tossed the Mad’s head at Kain, who caught it instinctively. He turned the head to face him, recoiled, then launched it back to the lower floors, cheering as it smashed down on another attacker’s skull.

  “Bullseye!” Kain shouted.

  “You better hurry up before they’re all gone.” Caitlin turned to face the Mad now attacking her. Now that they had identified their target, they all zeroed in. Their instincts pushed them in a single-minded frenzy of, kill, eat, drink, motherfucker, drink!

  Caitlin kicked at a Mad’s chest—a woman with drooping jowls and an overbite—and sent her backward, her body clanging loudly against the metal. To her right, another launched itself directly at her. She narrowly avoided contact with a side step, grabbed the Mad’s wrist, and yanked him violently into the woman.

  “Ew, they feel like sappy tree bark,” she exclaimed, noting that Kain had reached the bottom of the stairs and now sprinted at a Mad which had found itself stuck in the labyrinth of conveyor belts.

  “Maybe leave the skin touching to Moxie,” Mary-Anne replied with a grunt as she tore off her Mad’s arm and began beating him over the head with it.

  “You got it, Detta.” Caitlin winked, remembering the fake names they had given the pastor when they had gone public in Ashdale Pond.

  “How many are you on?” Kain shouted, making short work of his target. He rotated swiftly and cut a deep groove into another Mad’s neck who had lunged at him from the side. “I’m on two.”

  “That one doesn’t count.” Caitlin observed the twitching mess on the floor still reaching for Kain. She yanked a small knife from her belt and threw it at the Mad, and his wriggling ceasing the minute the blade entered his skull. “That makes six for me.”

  “Hey!” Kain said. “That was mine.”

  “Ma? Judgment call?”

  “Points to Caitlin,” Mary-Anne said without looking.

  “That’s sexist.”

  “Face it, Pooch,” Mary-Anne replied. “She’s just better than you.”

  His face fell. He furrowed his brow, gripped his blade tighter, and lunged for the next Mad. Then the next and the next.

  “Four!” he shouted, taking out the last in a heroic spray of blood.

  “Seven!” Caitlin raised her hands triumphantly.

  “Four,” Mary-Anne said coolly.

  Sounds of feet on metal echoed into the sudden silence. Caitlin looked up to see Tom and Laurie sprinting down the stars. Laurie had an arrow nocked and ready to go. She let it loose as a final Mad stepped through the factory door, toppling in surprise as the arrow made its way through its chest. Joe followed a short distance behind, his gun at shoulder level.

  “Ah, man.” Tom sounded disappointed. “Is the party over?”

  Caitlin nodded. “Sorry. It was only a few Mad. We could handle it. Besides, you look so peaceful when you sleep.”

  “Creep,” Tom said.

  “Watch out!” Laurie called.

  A groan sounded from behind. One of the Mad, it seemed, had found itself stuck behind a large pillar and now worked its way free. It was fresher than the others. Its clothes were barely ripped, and the skin still held some of its human shine.

  “Ah, pretty boy wants in.” Caitlin chuckled.

  The Mad sprinted towards her at an alarming speed, almost catching her off guard. Mary-Anne moved to help, but Caitlin stilled her with a wave of her hand. “No. I’ve got this.” She wanted to see the look on Kain’s face when her score went even higher.

  The attacker dove and Caitlin ducked beneath its flying form. He landed on his stomach, skidded on the floor and then, like a puppy running on vinyl flooring, scrambled to turn back for another attempt.

  This time, Caitlin was ready. As the Mad ran for her, she held her sword in both hands, spun it behind her to build momentum, and drove the blade across his chest. A wide slice of skin opened up, causing the creature to screech. She brought the blade back around and sent it across the Mad’s throat, which dropped the Mad to the floor. He crawled towards her until he was only an inch away, then he stopped.

  “Yes! Eight,” Caitlin declared, her arms once again in the air. “Take that, Pooch!”

  She turned, hunting for Kain.

  “Huh? Where did he go?”

  They all turned their heads, but he was nowhere to be seen.

  Silver Creek Forest, Old Ontario

  Kain could smell them somewhere in the forest, that fetid stench of rot and death.

  A smile crept onto his face as he ran out into the trees. He’d find his way back shortly. But damned if he was going to endure another day where Kitty-Cat beat his score. He was a werewolf, for God’s sake. If he couldn’t beat a friggin’ human at Murder-Spree 2—only available on PS4 and XBox, he sniggered—then what the hell was he doing out there?

  But you’re not really a werewolf. Not anymore, are you Kain? A voice popped into his head. Not if you can’t turn into a wolf anymore.

  “I can,” Kain muttered as he noticed the red eyes up ahead. Several Mad wandered aimlessly through the forest. That’d soon change. “It’s safer this way.”

  Because you don’t know if you’ll ever change back? Is that what you’re scared of? Isn’t life as a wolf so much better than the life of a man?

  Kain shook his head and slapped his face. Sure, life might be nice as a wolf. But he had seen what the Madness had brought to his fellow Weres. The choice they had to make. The unpredictability of never knowing if the next transformation would be your last.

  The Mad spotted him. Four of them, he counted.

  More than enough to top Caitlin’s score.

  Kain sped over to them, his blade-work impeccable. With each swift slice, a Mad went down. He concentrated first on immobilizing them before delivering the final blows with a triumphant stab.

  “Eight,” he cried, his head tilted back to look up at the canopy of trees.

  Which was when the rock appeared from nowhere, smacking him on the back of the head. White lights bloomed in Kain’s vision as two shapes appeared out of the forest. His vision was blurred so he couldn’t be certain, but he thought he could see a wolf and a l
arge cat racing at him.

  He was dragged by the scruff of his neck before the pain became too much and darkness took him.

  Chapter Seven

  The Sweet Spot, Silver Creek Forest, Old Ontario

  Dylan couldn’t remember the last time he’d laughed so much in his life.

  The tribesmen were hilarious. Though there were only around two dozen living in the small settlement in the forest, each had their own personality which seemed to complement each other. Even the fat man—whom Dylan discovered was known as Big Chief—would smile and add to the conversation here and there. The laughter often centered on the group who had sneaked after them through the forest.

  The pig thrower soon shared his name, patting his chest and performing his impression of Dylan as he did so. “My naaame, Laaaarrryyyy,” he announced to a chorus of laughter. “Me ladies’ man. Me kill Mad, then paint body in mud and find lady to make boom-boom.”

  Larry and his kin sat around the fire with Dylan and the Revolutionaries, sharing roasted pig. When Ben piped up and asked, “So how the hell does a group of tribesmen-looking-folk find themselves out in the ass-end of nowhere forest in nothing more than ground-level tree houses?” Larry was more than happy to share.

  “I guess our story is not too different from what you probably already know,” he said. “We once lived in a town—most unlike this one, of course. Walls, fences, barbed wire, all that shit you find in any place you see nowadays. Then, as the Mad grew and our contact with other civilizations shrank, things began to change.”

  “Let me guess,” Alice said. “A dictator too big for his boots? Unfair treatment of the women and children? Raping and bullying? That sort of thing?”

  “Oh, so you know of Colonel Splatterbrain?” the girl who sat at Larry’s left said.

  A shudder ran through the tribe.

  “We know the type,” Ash added.

  “Then you’ll be able to guess why we left.” He turned and waved his arm to the others. “It was a make or break situation. Fire, gunshots, and pitchforks. We barely escaped in time, and a fair number of those trying to escape with us didn’t.”