SALEM’S REVENGE
COMPLETE 3-BOOK BOXED SET
David Estes
“The Walking Dead for teens, with ruthless witches instead of bloodthirsty zombies.” – Katie Reed, agent at Andrea Hurst & Associates
Copyright 2015 David Estes
Kindle Edition, License Notes
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Young-Adult Books by David Estes
The Dwellers Saga:
Book One—The Moon Dwellers
Book Two—The Star Dwellers
Book Three—The Sun Dwellers
Book Four—The Earth Dwellers
The Country Saga (A Dwellers Saga sister series):
Book One—Fire Country
Book Two—Ice Country
Book Three—Water and Storm Country
Book Four—The Earth Dwellers
Salem’s Revenge:
Book One—Brew
Book Two—Boil
Book Three—Burn
The Slip Trilogy:
Book One—Slip
Book Two—Grip
Book Three—Flip
I Am Touch
The Evolution Trilogy:
Book One—Angel Evolution
Book Two—Demon Evolution
Book Three—Archangel Evolution
Children’s Books by David Estes
The Adventures of Nikki Powergloves:
Nikki Powergloves—A Hero Is Born
Nikki Powergloves and the Power Council
Nikki Powergloves and the Power Trappers
Nikki Powergloves and the Great Adventure
Nikki Powergloves vs. the Power Outlaws
Nikki Powergloves and the Power Giver
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TABLE OF CONTENTS
BREW
PART ONE: SALEM’S REVENGE
Chapter One
Chapter Two
Chapter Three
Chapter Four
Chapter Five
Chapter Six
Chapter Seven
Chapter Eight
Chapter Nine
Chapter Ten
Chapter Eleven
PART TWO: THE WITCH HUNTER
Chapter Twelve
Chapter Thirteen
Chapter Fourteen
Chapter Fifteen
Chapter Sixteen
Chapter Seventeen
Chapter Eighteen
Chapter Twenty
Chapter Twenty-One
Chapter Twenty-Two
Chapter Twenty-Three
Chapter Twenty-Four
Chapter Twenty-Five
Chapter Twenty-Six
Chapter Twenty-Seven
Chapter Twenty-Eight
Chapter Twenty-Nine
Chapter Thirty
Chapter Thirty-One
Chapter Thirty-Two
Chapter Thirty-Three
Chapter Thirty-Four
Chapter Thirty-Five
Chapter Thirty-Six
Chapter Thirty-Seven
Chapter Thirty-Eight
Chapter Thirty-Nine
Chapter Forty
Chapter Forty-One
Chapter Forty-Two
Chapter Forty-Three
Chapter Forty-Four
Chapter Forty-Five
Chapter Forty-Six
Chapter Forty-Seven
Chapter Forty-Eight
Chapter Forty-Nine
Chapter Fifty
Chapter Fifty-One
Chapter Fifty-Two
Chapter Fifty-Three
Chapter Fifty-Four
Chapter Fifty-Five
Chapter Fifty-Six
Chapter Fifty-Seven
Chapter Fifty-Eight
Chapter Fifty-Nine
Chapter Sixty
Chapter Sixty-One
Chapter Sixty-Two
BOIL
Prologue
Chapter One
Chapter Two
Chapter Three
Chapter Four
Chapter Five
Chapter Six
Chapter Seven
Chapter Eight
Chapter Nine
Chapter Ten
Chapter Eleven
Chapter Twelve
Chapter Thirteen
Chapter Fourteen
Chapter Fifteen
Chapter Sixteen
Chapter Seventeen
Chapter Eighteen
Chapter Nineteen
Chapter Twenty
Chapter Twenty-One
Chapter Twenty-Two
Chapter Twenty-Three
Chapter Twenty-Four
Chapter Twenty-Five
Chapter Twenty-Six
Chapter Twenty-Seven
Chapter Twenty-Eight
Chapter Twenty-Nine
Chapter Thirty
Chapter Thirty-One
Chapter Thirty-Two
Chapter Thirty-Three
Chapter Thirty-Four
Chapter Thirty-Five
Chapter Thirty-Six
Chapter Thirty-Seven
Chapter Thirty-Eight
Chapter Thirty-Nine
Chapter Forty
Chapter Forty-One
Chapter Forty-Two
Chapter Forty-Three
Chapter Forty-Four
Chapter Forty-Five
Chapter Forty-Six
Chapter Forty-Seven
Chapter Forty-Eight
Chapter Forty-Nine
Chapter Fifty
Chapter Fifty-One
BURN
Chapter One
Chapter Two
Chapter Three
Chapter Four
Chapter Five
Chapter Six
Chapter Seven
Chapter Eight
Chapter Nine
Chapter Ten
Chapter Eleven
Chapter Twelve
Chapter Thirteen
Chapter Fourteen
Chapter Fifteen
Chapter Sixteen
Chapter Seventeen
Chapter Eighteen
Chapter Nineteen
Chapter Twenty
Chapter Twenty-One
Chapter Twenty-Two
Chapter Twenty-Three
Chapter Twenty-Four
Chapter Twenty-Five
Chapter Twenty-Six
Chapter Twenty-Seven
Chapter Twenty-Eight
Chapter Twenty-Nine
Chapter Thirty
Chapter Thirty-One
Chapter Thirty-Two
Chapter Thirty-Three
Chapter Thirty-Four
Chapter Thirty-Five
Chapter Thirty-Six
Chapter Thirty-Seven
Chapter Thirty-Eight
Epilogue
Acknowledgments
Connect with David Estes Online
About the Author
A sample of a new boxed set, the Slip Trilogy, by David Estes, available NOW! “Someone must die before another can be born…”
BREW
Salem’s Revenge- Book One
David Estes
PART ONE: SALEM’S REVENGE
In the black of night,
’Midst shattered dreams,
Come darkest terrors, once unseen.
Hidden amongst us,
Wielding ancient power,
’Til the wraiths step forward, for the witching hour.
Salem’s Revenge, Rhett Carter
Chapter One
The witches don’t deserve to die.
As I chuck my football cleats in my duffel and zip it shut, my foster mom’s words ring in my head. For months she’s been focused on the whole Salem’s Return debacle. The new laws, the hunt for real, live witches, the executions. And, after the news today, she’s up in arms all over again.
Number of Witches May Stretch into the Thousands, the headline read.
It almost made me laugh, but I held it in because of the grave expression on my mom’s face. Witches? Come on. There’s no such thing, not in real life anyway. Between the pages of the books I love to read, however, that’s a different story. And that’s where they should stay. All the rest is nothing more than fear, just like it was during the original Salem Witch Trials.
“Bye, Mom!” I shout as I push through the front door, shouldering my backpack and football gear.
“Have a good day, Rhett!” Trudy Smith calls back, but her head never turns, her eyes glued to the continued Salem’s Return news coverage.
The world is a scary place. One big hot mess. While we should be focused on our real problems, like the thousands of homeless living—and starving—on the streets, the ever-rising cost of healthcare, and the ticking time bomb that is the social security system, the lawmakers are focused on…drumroll please…witches. Really?
I weave my way along the familiar path through the Atlanta suburbs, making my way to meet my friends, Beth and Xavier. Well, Xave’s a friend, and Beth—she’s more than a friend. The thought brings a smile to my face, instantly erasing the negative energy from this morning’s news.
On the opposite side of the street, I see a couple of my teammates getting into their car. They glance in my direction, pausing to smirk at me. I’d wave, but I don’t really like them very much—like, at all. Unfortunately, the “mates” part of “teammates” is used loosely in my case. Maybe if I partied more and read fewer books I’d be more popular on the team. But alas, the star quarterback, Todd Logue, has decided to make me the target of ninety-nine percent of his jokes. And these two punks are two of his besties.
So I look away from them and just keep walking, breathing a sigh of relief when they don’t do more than honk obnoxiously at me as they roar past, filling the air with a foul-smelling cloud of fumes.
“This week I decided the school newspaper should discuss Salem’s Return,” Beth says when I meet her and Xavier in front of their neighboring houses.
“Good morning to you, too,” I say, leaning down to sneak in a quick kiss. To my delight, Beth returns it, her lips lingering on mine for three awesome beats of my heart.
“They should outlaw kissing in front of friends,” Xave says, turning away from us and shielding his eyes. My best friend, as usual, looks like he’s heading to some private prep school. Wearing a red and blue sweater vest that perfectly matches his brightly colored belt, he could be the son of a politician or a CEO. Beneath the vest is a spotless white button-down shirt.
“You might not be saying that if you had a boyfriend,” I say, pulling away from Beth.
“Yes, I would,” Xave says, starting down the sidewalk. A carpool full of students zooms past, radio blasting.
“I guess you saw this morning’s news then,” I say, returning to Beth’s initial topic of choice. “So you’re going to write about the revival of the Salem Witch Trials?”
Her big, brown eyes light up the way they always do when she talks about her latest project as editor of the school paper. “Yes,” she says. “I’ve been doing some initial research, and something about it all just doesn’t add up. I don’t think the government is telling us everything.”
“Do they ever?” I say.
“You mean, like a conspiracy?” Xave says, leaning in. He’s always liked a good conspiracy to start the day. I smile, because why not? The sun is shining, I’m with my two best friends, and no one has tried to pick a fight with me today. All in all, it’s a good start to a Wednesday.
“Exactly,” Beth says. “It’s still early on, but I’ll let you know what I find out.”
“Correction. You’ll let the whole school know what you find out,” I say.
“No. The whole world!” Xave says, laughing. I try to disguise my own laugh as a cough, but Beth hits me anyway. Although Beth’s articles are only published in print in the school newspaper, she also shares them with the respectable following she’s managed to amass on her collection of favorite social networking sites.
“Laugh all you want, boys, but when I’m running a real paper you’ll learn the true power of the press.” I don’t doubt her words, not for one second.
I rub my shoulder even though her whack was the equivalent of getting hit by a raindrop. “So what do you think they’re holding back?” I ask. “Everyone already knows the witches aren’t really witches.”
“How do you know?” Beth says, firing me a frown. “You read books about witches all the time, and yet you don’t even think they could be real?”
“That’s fiction,” I say.
“Seems like half of what’s in old science fiction books has been coming true for years.”
“Yeah, but that’s grounded in reality. In science. Now we’re talking fantasy. Magic. Not. Real.” We make another turn, which seems to prove my point. More nondescript cookie-cutter houses line another cookie-cutter street in suburbia. One of a million such neighborhoods across the country that have many things in common—including no real witches.
“Anyway,” Beth says, “it doesn’t matter whether they’re real witches or not, they’re being murdered for nothing other than existing. It’s not right.”
“Now that I agree with,” I say. “I can’t wait to read everything you find out.”
My comment draws a smile from my girlfriend, which I much prefer to the glares she’s been giving me for the last few minutes. She wraps an arm around my waist and pulls me into her side.
“Well, I know one thing,” Xave says, “if I ever come across a male witch, I won’t turn him in—I’ll ask for his number. Witches are hot.”
“There’s no such thing as male witches,” I say.
“Always gotta be a know-it-all,” Xave says. “I meant warlocks, or wizards, or whatever Harry Potter is.”
“You’ve got a crush on Harry Potter?” Beth says, raising her eyebrows.
“Not Harry specifically, although when he fires a curse it definitely gets my heart pumping. More like Draco Malfoy. Now he’s a stud.”
“You always preferred the bad boys,” I note.
Beth chuckles, and Xave says, “True. At least I’d know what to do if I came face to face with a witch. You two would be hopeless. Beth would probably ask for an interview, and Rhett here would either freeze up or run away screaming.”
Ever since I met Xavier in the foster system when we were five, he’s been like a brother to me. And, like a brother, he knows me all too well. He’s fought for me at least a dozen times, while it’s always been my preference to use words—rather than fists—as my weapon of choice. I owe him more than I can ever repay.
So I don’t even mind the insult, not when I can feel the warmth of Beth’s body seeping through our clothes. The school comes into view and I let out a silent groan. I squeeze Beth one more time and then head t
oward the opposite end of campus, to the athletic locker rooms. I have to stow my football gear before I make my way to class.
“See you guys later,” I say, still thinking about what Beth said about witches being real.
~~~
Football practice. Although I don’t mind sports, I’d rather be hanging with Xave and Beth than smashing into sweaty guys. However, according to my foster father, my height, build, and athletic abilities make football my best shot at a college scholarship. I’m taller than most guys on the team, and when I wear contacts Beth says I almost look like a football player. But I know she prefers me with glasses—we’re two nerds in a pod. Xave says we’re a cute couple because we’re opposites in so many ways. Her brown eyes are light; mine are dark. She’s petite; I’m, well, not. Her nose is small, like a button; according to Xave, mine is too big, although Beth says it’s cute.
So here I am, on the sidelines, waiting for Coach to arrive, thankful that my dark skin isn’t particularly sensitive to the hot Georgia sun.
“Jacob’s search for true love is something every teenage boy can relate to,” a voice says from behind. I sigh, hating the way my own written words sound so pathetic and stupid when spoken by the human gorilla.
I finish tying my cleats and turn around to find Todd Logue and three of his football buddies laughing at me. “Do you need something?” I say, unwilling to rise to the bait.
“Me?” Todd says, feigning surprise. “All I need are more of your blog posts. They touch me in ways I never knew were possible.” He makes a vigorous and exceptionally lewd gesture with his hand. His goons laugh louder.
Knowing that people like him are able to read my posts almost make me want to give up book blogging. Almost.
“I’m so glad,” I say, offering the fakest, broadest smile I can muster. I grab my helmet and head left toward the field.
The foursome move in tandem, blocking my path. Determined to avoid them, I turn toward the right. Again, they block my escape.
“We’ll let you by if you recite something from your last blog post,” Todd says. “You know, the one I printed two hundred copies of and posted around the school.”
He didn’t. I want to believe myself, but I know it’s exactly the kind of thing he would do. A crowd starts to gather as some of the students who were there to watch the football practice realize something’s about to go down.