Catee's Grace

By Keith Holmes

Catee's Grace is the story of a blue collar, hard working, Chicago family thrust into a secret war between supernatural knights and the dragons that rule the world, by a single act of love. Catee is no ordinary child. She has within her, a spark of the divine and with it, she can heal with a touch. She is a balm to the weary world and the infection doesn't like it one bit. Catee's existence represents the dawning of a new age where mankind will finally cast off the invisible shackles of cruel masters they don't know they serve. The dragons and those who serve them will do anything to make sure that the "Dawn Child's" life is snuffed out, ensuring their eternal reign.

The Vigilant, supernatural knights born to fight the denizens of the pit have found Catee, but can their ebbing, righteous swords keep her from the dragon's maw? More, can the Moyers ever find peace in a world where its oligarchs seek only their demise? Can they even survive the escape?

Book 1 of the Vigilant Series: Catee's Grace is a thrilling run across the globe in a desperate attempt to find sanctuary from a world where every shadow is a potential devil and nothing is as it seems. It's a lightning-paced, edge-of-your-seat read meant to leave you breathless.

• Language: English
• Publisher: Keith Holmes
• Release date: Jan 29, 2018
• ISBN: 9781370198573

Keith Holmes

Keith Holmes is a geospatial scientist at the Hakai Institute in Victoria, BC, Canada. He is one of the authors of The Atlas of the Iraqi Marshes, published by the Canadian-Iraq Marshlands Initiative.

Book preview

Foreword

The Vigilant Series is a work of love, a study in research in my rather obsessive/compulsive desire to lend authenticity and realism to a modern, fantastic setting where ancient dragons rule the world in secret, and a sect of supernatural knights wage war against them.

This is a book of secrets, of conspiracy theories and spirituality, and though it is told from the point of view of Holy Knights, there's room within for every paradigm. This is a book of the trappings of mankind, spiritual, societal, where the good and evil within the human heart can be as heroic or villainous as the actions of any knight or dragon.

In this book you'll meet Catee Moyer, a little girl who can miraculously heal. Throughout the Vigilant Series you'll be presented with the various beliefs that her existence represents. None of them are absolutely right, nor are any completely wrong, just as no one presenting those theories is completely good or absolutely malevolent. Good people do bad things and sometimes bad people serve a greater purpose. Redemption abides for all.

I invite you to keep your eyes open as you never know when some seemingly inconsequential moment proves to be a keystone later, or when you'll find greater meaning in something mundane.

Catee's Grace is the story of what happens when a blue collar, hard working, American family is thrust into a secret war between the servants of darkness and the creatures of light by a single act of love. This book is the beginning of Catee's journey toward a destiny that she can't even define, let alone understand.

I hope you find this work entertaining first and foremost, but also compelling and thought provoking. I hope you read it twice, that it inspires you to search. I hope that you read it a third time, and say, ah-ha.

I am grateful to you for this opportunity to share a bit of me.

Keith Holmes - Author

PROLOGUE

Tara fidgeted as she waited for one of the nurses at the station to notice her. Catee twisted in her arms, reflecting her mom's discomfort. The smell of antiseptic mixed with the warmth of the nursing home's hallways put a sickly feeling in her belly and had the young mother on edge. The quiet, interrupted only by an occasional hushed voice or cough or moan made her want to run. After several moments of waiting her turn, she decided to do just that. The young mother turned to leave when someone finally paid her more than a moment's heed.

I'm sorry, can I help you ma'am? came the kindly voice of a nurse who'd just finished giving report. Tara turned and grinned nervously. Whatcha got there? the nurse beamed, moving toward the pair and taking a peak at little Catee.

She's here to meet her Mimi, Tara explained sheepishly.

She's beautiful. Pretty, like her momma, the nurse said, running a knuckle gently over Catee's cheek. Tara blushed a bit but before she could offer thanks for the compliment the nurse continued. She's Anna's grandbaby I'll bet.

How did you...? Tara asked, cut off again by a nurse who knew far more than the young mother realized.

She talks about wanting to see her. And if this is Catee, then you must be Tara. She talks about you too.

Tara's face filled with shame. She'd meant to visit her ailing grandmother a hundred times but she always found a reason not to. She didn't deal well with sickness. Anna was dying, awaiting a liver transplant that'd likely never come.

Can I see her? Tara's voice cracked.

Oh, I'm sorry. I didn't mean to make you feel....

Tara shook her head and smiled politely.

She's in room 118. If you want to go on in, I'll be by there shortly, the nurse said before heading off behind the station.

Tara took a breath and turned down the hallway. The lighting felt cold and harsh darkening the interiors of each room. She watched door numbers until she found 118.

Inside, it took a moment for her eyes to adjust to the dim light. There was a medicinal tinge to the overly warm air. Anna lay sleeping in her bed. Even from afar, Tara could see the yellow color of her skin and how her cheeks and eyes had sunken. She inched forward, shifting Catee from one arm to the other. Anna was sleeping so still and peacefully that for a moment Tara feared the worst. She leaned over and watched her grandmother's chest for signs of movement.

She’s out. She’s in a lot of pain today so I gave her something to help her sleep. The voice startled Tara and she wheeled around to find the nurse she'd met earlier, reading a chart she'd taken from Anna's door.

Oh, Tara nodded, glad the nurse hadn't seen her jump.

The nurse fetched an ink pen from the large pockets of her pink smock and glanced up. "You can still visit with her. She might wake up."

Thanks, Tara nodded.

The nurse headed out of the room, leaving the three of them alone again. Tara pressed closer to her grandmother's bedside and gently stroked the back of her hand with her fingertips. Then she glanced to Catee who was napping in her arms.

Hi Mimi, she smiled, sad that Anna wasn't awake for this. This is Catee. She’s named after you, Mimi. Her middle name is Anna, Tara explained, trying to stave off a swell of emotions.

Her eyes averted, feeling foolish talking to a sleeping person. She glanced toward the door to make sure that no one had seen it and then she looked to Anna's face. Cirrhosis had taken it's cruel toll. Tara's eyes traced the spider web patterns skittered across her grandmother's skin and frowned. She considered leaving, wanted to. Then she remembered what the nurse had told her. Anna wanted to meet Catee. There might not be another chance. So the young mother forced herself to smile again.

Would you like to hold her? she asked, knowing that no answer would come. Slowly Tara lowered Catee onto the bed beside her grandmother, laying the child between her ribs and her arm. Catee perked up, opened her big blue eyes. Tara watched as Anna's fingers wrapped lazily around the little one's foot and the emotions inside her roiled. She put a hand to her lips and turned to let her tears flow free.

Suddenly a 'pop' burst through the quiet and a flash of light filled the room. Catee began to wail. Tara wheeled around and scooped the baby into her arms. Horror knotted belly as she looked to her little girl. Catee's skin was yellow. A spider web pattern sat atop the apple of her cheek.

HELP! Tara screamed, fumbling toward the door.

The thunder of hurried footsteps echoed down the halls as an orderly burst through the door, nearly bowling her over. What's going on? he asked, taking the young mother by the shoulders.

My baby! she fumbled, nearly hyperventilating. Tara and the orderly looked to Catee. She'd begun to calm down and her skin was as pristine and perfect as it usually was. The little girl stopped crying, replaced with a wide-mouthed yawn. The confused orderly looked to the young mother.

I...?

Anna's nurse scurried through the door to interrupt. She shuffled past the trio and moved to her patient's bedside, checking her pulse. Then, confused, she turned to Tara. Is everything okay? she questioned.

Tara just stared at Catee for the longest time. The nurse and the orderly exchanged a concerned glance. Finally the young mother looked up. There was a pop and a flash and... she began.

Oh honey, Anna's nurse interrupted, it's the overhead. I've been trying to get maintenance to replace that light for weeks, She explained. She stepped to the switch and flicked it a few times but nothing happened. Guess it finally went shot, she shrugged, turning back to Tara and offering a consoling smile. I'm sorry it scared you two. I should have warned you.

Tara's brow was heavy as she glanced up to the light fixture, then to Catee's face. The nurse had addressed the sound, the flash, but there was one final part of the mystery that remained unsolved. But it was far too extraordinary to bring up much less explain.

Is Mimi okay? Tara asked, stepping back toward her bedside. Satisfied that the emergency was over, the orderly rubbed Tara's shoulder and left the room. The nurse turned and flicked on the light mounted above Anna's headboard.

Wow! she exclaimed, surprised. She looks great!

Tara looked to her grandmother. She did look great. Her skin had taken on a healthy, peach hue, her spider webs faded. Tara's bewilderment deepened.

I'll have to let Dr. White know that she's really responding to the new meds.

Tara faked a smile as the nurse turned to her. That's good, she said.

All right, if you're sure you're okay I'll leave you three alone.

Tara nodded and watched her go. Then she sat down in a bedside chair and laid Catee into her lap. The baby was sleeping hard, practically snoring. The young mother sat, pondering what she'd seen, trying to convince herself that it was just the bad lighting. A familiar voice took her attention.

Tara? the sleepy voice asked. Anna was sitting up in bed. Tara! Anna repeated excitedly, reaching out for a hug.

Tara smiled as she stepped over into those arms, Catee in between.

And this is Catee? she asked. I’ve heard so much about this beautiful little girl! As the hug broke, Anna scooped the still sleeping baby into her arms and placed her upon her lap.

How are you feeling? Tara questioned, a bit out of cadence for a greeting.

Oh I felt bad this morning, she paused, considering. But I feel wonderful now. It must be your visit and this little angel! she exclaimed.

Tara laughed, happy. There was no mystery, she decided, simply a misunderstanding.

The three of them spent the afternoon together, chatting and laughing. It wasn't until Tara was on the bus headed for home that she allowed her mind to revisit the potential miracle she'd witnessed. She let her thumb gently roll over the apple of Catee's cheek, the place where the spider web had been. And then she shook her head and chuckled at herself. Her husband Ethan would be quick to tell her that there was a perfectly acceptable explanation for what she'd seen. She agreed.

CHAPTER ONE

Chicago winters could be brutal but Ethan Moyer didn't let it get him down. He loved the town, whatever the weather or challenge. Chicago was a family member, defined as much by him as he was by it. He was born there, met his wife there. His daughter was brought into the world at South Shore. Everything Ethan loved could be found within the city limits. He'd live, work, love, and die in town. And that's the way he wanted it to be.

Hey Moyer, you good for that remodel this weekend?

Ethan finished ripping out a piece of molded sheetrock before he turned to his boss and pulled his dust mask from his face. Sure thing Mr. G., he nodded trying to mask his enthusiasm. He needed the money, but he'd consider working for free when it got him inside Wrigley Field.

Good man. Do this right and we might finally get that contract.

You got it, Ethan said, wiping his dust-covered face against the arm of his shirt.

You look tired. Everything okay?

I'm good. Didn't sleep well last night, he lied. The truth was that his boss had called him at eleven o'clock the night before to have him on the job site at five a.m. for 'prep'. But Ethan wasn't the kind to complain about hard work. Since he'd been given his shot at foreman, he vowed to do whatever it took to keep the job.

Well let's call it lunch, Mr. Gavone instructed. On cue Ethan turned to his crew.

Lunch guys, he shouted.

Hour boss? one of his coworkers asked. Ethan checked his watch.

Yeah, okay, he nodded, glancing to his boss to make sure he noticed that the worker had come to Ethan rather than him.

Superdawg? the worker asked.

Nah. Brought mine, Ethan explained, lamenting missing out on the institution that was the venerated hot dog stand.As the worker walked away Ethan lifted his hammer from his tool belt and squared himself to the wall he'd been working on.

Not going to lunch? his boss questioned.

I'll wait for them to get back, Ethan explained. Many foremen spent the bulk of their time in their trucks, but Ethan preferred to work shoulder-to-shoulder with his crew.

You're doing good kid. Keep it up, Mr. Gavone said, patting him on the back.

Might want to clear out. This stuff is just crumbling apart, Ethan said, proud of the compliment. Mr. Gavone turned to go but a stray thought caused him to turn.

Hey. Can you go by the supply and place the order for the Wrigley job after work?

Ethan had already worked seven consecutive twelve-hour days and it was beginning to wear him down, but he wouldn't deny his boss. Sure thing.

Ethan had finished the tear down of the entire wall by the time the crew rolled in, Superdawg bags in hand. He holstered his hammer as they began filtering in, walking past them to retrieve his lunchbox from the truck. And then he returned and took a seat among them, atop a stack of sheetrock. He worked the latches on his lunchbox with little enthusiasm, the smell of Viennas in the air. Tara wasn't a great cook, so lunch didn't feel like much of a break for him.

Hey. You wanna say grace before we eat? a coworker, Randy, grinned.

You guys do whatever you want. I'm eating, Ethan replied, confused.

We just thought you'd wanna lead us in the prayer Father, Randy chuckled, waiting for his foreman to catch on.

Ethan's brow drew downward in confusion, and then it hit him. Closing the latches on his lunchbox, he slowly spun it to find a pink glitter 'Jesus Fish' painted across the back. His jaw squared briefly as the group shared a laugh.

Hey you got any water in there? I don't think Randy's been Baptized yet! they laughed.

Ethan knew he'd only one recourse with this bunch. And so he shook it off and laughed with them. What? Like your kids don't draw shit on your lunchboxes? he accused.

Not every friggin' week! Randy laughed. Jesus Ethan, I'd like to have what you spend on new ones!

What was it last time? another worker reminisced. A umm... whadyacallit?

Chi Roh, somebody added. Ethan hated this. He was as irreligious as any of them. Probably more so.

Okay you humps, he said, sitting his lunchbox aside and standing, let's get back to work.

A protest went up, quickly devolving into laughter and pleas for him to sit. Reluctantly he did.

Shut up and eat, Ethan chuckled, glancing to the latest lunchbox his daughter had ruined. As each man began their lunch he fished a bologna sandwich from it trying not to stew. She was just a little girl after all. She didn't know any better. As he took a bite he tried to tune out the snickers but he knew he'd hear about his pink, glitter, Jesus fish for the rest of the week. Construction workers could be relentless.

Hey, I like the color, someone said, as if on cue. Really matches your purse.

CHAPTER TWO

Mommy, I has dat sword? Catee asked pointing to her mother's kitchen knife. The little girl had put on her favorite cloak - blue, and a plastic dagger scribbled with crayon symbols was tucked in a costume belt her mother had helped her don. Tara shook her head and glanced to her daughter. She knew precisely which 'sword' the little girl wanted.

No baby. I told you already. This is mommy's sword. She uses it for making supper. Besides, you already have one, she said, turning and kneeling before the little one and touching the dagger at Catee's side.

I not need it. Carrot need it, the little girl explained. It was the first mention of a new imaginary friend.

Who's Carrot? Tara asked, looking to the 'runes' Catee had adorned her trusty blade with.

Him's a mouse-man, she explained. Tara grinned, running her finger over a red crayon cross, the kind you'd see on a motorcycle helmet.

Like Mickey? her mother asked. Catee shook her head.

No, she said, cocking her hip. Him drinks beer.

Tara chuckled and shook her head. Well no sword for Carrot. Go play. Daddy will be home soon.

Okay Mommy, the little girl replied, charging off to her room.

Catee was an imaginative child. She was very bright, able to read most anything. Her two favorite books were a child's Bible her late grandmother had given her and a book on Faeries. She was unusual in other ways too: she preferred dragons to princesses, swords more than dolls. Socially she was introverted and didn't like large crowds. Tara figured it was because she was so empathetic, marvelously so. It was difficult to hide a mood from the little girl.

The young mother looked through the kitchen window as ice pellets tinkled against it. It wasn't unusual for Ethan to be late since he became site foreman but it didn't keep her from worrying especially when the weather was bad. Of course, most of the time he was grabbing a beer or two before heading home. She decided that if that was the case this time, he'd hear about it.

She'd just closed the oven door when he finally made it home. She turned to him, her hands on her hips when she saw the frustration on his face. What is it? she asked.

Where's Catee? he growled. He didn't wait for an answer. His lunchbox clutched in his fist, he marched to the little girl's room, Tara following behind. He found his daughter atop her bed looking through one of her favorite books.

Hi Daddy! she chirped before the smile left her face. Ethan stepped to her, set her book aside and lifted his lunchbox.

Did you do this? he asked, knowing the answer. He pointed to the Icthys - a symbol she'd seen in one of her favorite books. Admonished, Catee lowered her head and put her hands in her lap as she frowned. Ethan's anger deepened at her lack of answer. I told you to stop this, didn't I? he asked, his tone deep and angry. Catee didn't answer. She just sat quietly.

ANSWER ME! Ethan demanded, shaking his lunchbox, more force to his voice than he'd intended. Catee jumped and began to cry.

Ethan! Tara protested, stepping between them, ready for a fight.

He glanced away, knowing he was handling this poorly. It was the way he was raised - he who shouted loudest won - and though he'd never lift a finger to his daughter, his anger was more than enough to intimidate her. He shook his head and took a deep breath to calm down, then he stomped out of the room.

Tara watched him go and then spent a moment consoling her daughter. Satisfied that Catee was calm, she headed for the kitchen where she found him at the table, staring at the artwork, stewing.

Hey, Tara cooed before taking a seat at his side. She reached out and put her hand atop his. She just wanted to draw something for you with her new art set.

I know, Ethan said, defeat in his voice. "I shouldn't have yelled at