Chapter 2
T here were several shooting ranges closer to the station, but Nolan insisted we head a little farther out to a different one, right outside the city. It was less crowded and away from co-workers, which I couldn’t argue with. I packed myself into the busy subway car with a few other officers on their way home. They did their best to avoid me, despite being stuffed in there together tighter than a Thanksgiving turkey. I held onto a metal pole for dear life. Every time the car jolted, an elbow struck me in the face and a nearby passenger smashed into me. It was like a sadistic game of whack-a-mole.
I eagerly jumped off the train at my stop, shuffled up the steps to the street, and headed for the range, thankfully only a few blocks away. Nolan was already there with the gun sitting on the wooden shelf in front of the outdoor firing lane when I finally arrived. Now I know why he chose this particular place. Indoor ranges weren’t equipped to handle magic weapons. And, of course, new magic was unpredictable. Combine that with my inability to control it and we’d be lucky I didn’t blow up a whole city block.
“You’re late. I thought you were gonna bail on me for your new best friend.” A curved grin slipped across his face, and I reciprocated.
“You ready to get this bad boy firing?” He mimicked the shape of a gun with his fingers and fired them at the target about twenty five feet away.
“I still can’t believe you got your hands on this. The first ever magic gun for us small folk law enforcement.” While the military had a select few magic weapons, magic guns weren’t available to commoners or your everyday police force. In fact, spelled magic items in general were only used by well established businesses, not yet considered safe enough for personal use. In the police force, the only magic items we used were magic spell bombs: tiny glass orbs with magic liquid or powder inside that activated a unique spell when the trigger word set it off and dispersed. This magic gun took those spell bombs a step further, allowing them to be loaded directly into a weapon as bullets.
I reached for the U-shaped safety band and placed it around my neck, a special spelled magic object for head and sound protection currently being tested by law enforcement.
“Intego!” The spell triggered, and a warm spark of energy tingled as an invisible protective shield encased my head.
“I think the plan is to officially release it next month.” Nolan paused and gave me a suspicious wink. “But I know a guy.” I decided I’d be better off not knowing where it came from and promptly erased everything he just said from my head.
“Let’s try an air bullet. That should be one of the...uhh...safer ones to use. It’s this one.” Nolan pointed to a loaded magazine he left on the counter. “The spell activates when you say the word. Then, use the trigger and shoot like you would a normal gun. Remember, we are outside. You’ll have to fight nature’s wind with the magic wind.”
I slumped my shoulders and glowered at him with a defeated face. Did he really think I was going to be able to do this? His encouraging smile tried to be confident for me, but I had my doubts. “It’ll become much easier after you test it out and get the hang of it.”
“Yeah, easy for you, maybe. You know how hard this is for me.” Magic spells had a habit of not doing what they were supposed to do when I shot them off. They also reacted differently when I was hit with them. It was unfortunate, since at some point magic would be an important part of my job, whether I was using it myself or dealing with those using it against me.
I inhaled a deep breath to relax and readied myself in firing position. My feet were planted firmly on the concrete, my right leg bent slightly forward while my left foot gave me balance from behind. I tilted my head and raised my arms until the pistol was level with my eyesight. I focused around me, listening to the sound of leaves rustling in the distance, and the feeling of crisp fall air sweeping against my skin that gently lifted the hair off my forehead. There was no one else out here but me and Nolan.
“Ventus!” I shouted. Excitement overcame me. Yelling it out louder didn’t make the spell more powerful, but it did make me feel empowered. The spell activated, and the warmth of the flowing magic absorbed into my hands holding the gun connecting them together as one. A faint orange glow surrounded the gun and my hands as it powered up.
I squinted my eyes and aligned the rear sight with my target fifty feet away. I sucked in another deep breath, convincing myself the bullet was going to rip through the atmosphere in a perfectly straight line right through the red dot on the target’s head. I braced myself for an epic unveiling of magic exploding through the gun...then it let out a slight breeze with no more power than a gust of air from a paper fan. I’m pretty sure I let out farts more powerful than that.
Nolan stood behind me, pacing like a drill sergeant with his hands clasped behind his back trying not to laugh. Sensing my frustration, he offered some reassuring words. “Don’t get discouraged. This is a totally new weapon. No one’s ever used before. You won’t get it right away.”
Embarrassed by my first attempt, I stiffened my hands around the grip and imagined the target being ripped apart until nothing was left of it, the tiny pieces of thick paper incinerating on impact. Nolan had told me once that a skilled user could enhance the magic ability of an item by visualizing what they wanted to happen. Clearly, I was not skilled. I don’t know how anyone could even concentrate like that. It’s not like a bank robber would just stop and wait for you to get your shit together.
“Keep practicing, my friend,” Nolan encouraged as though he could read my thoughts. “The more you do it, the more magic will feel like a part of you. Your mind will think on its own and everything will become instinct.”
I squeezed the trigger again. Before I realized what happened, I was rocked right off my feet, launching backwards directly into Nolan standing behind me. My hand was still holding the gun facing the sky...that I could now see through the giant hole I just made in the wooden canopy above us.
“OK, that might have been a bit too much.” Nolan’s words trailed off as he clutched his hand to his chest. The impact of my body colliding into his caught him off guard.
“Neat trick, huh?” I chuckled, grasping the wooden shelf as I hoisted myself up. “I used the air bullet to propel myself and knock the wind right out of your lungs.”
“Very funny, my friend” Nolan said dryly as he rose to his feet.
“Hey, you think they’ll notice that?” I pointed to the basketball sized hole directly above us.
“My gut says probably yes. But on the bright side, they now have a skylight. This place is too dark, anyway.” Nolan grinned in amusement at the pieces of the broken roof now scattered across the floor around us.
I put the gun down for a moment, shaking out my hands and feet to clear my mind. My short, wavy curls bounced with the movement of my head right above my eyebrows, reminding me that I needed a haircut. Badly. Another thing I didn’t have time to do.
Nolan’s phone buzzed. “I gotta take this. Work stuff. Keep going, my friend. I’ll be right back.” Nolan scampered off to the main building, searching for a more private place to take the call. Moments later, I heard the faint sound of two familiar voices chattering louder as they drew closer. Both officers locked their eyes on me. So much for avoiding co-workers.
“Hey, that looks like the new MP-Vanquisher people keep talking about. How the hell did you get your hands on that?” I’m pretty sure Nolan wasn’t actually supposed to have it, let alone fire it at a shooting range, so I left out some important details.
“It’s just a friend’s. Borrowing it for some practice.” I turned away hoping to avoid the scene I knew was coming. Guns and angry police officers usually didn’t mix well.
“You don’t have friends. Besides, you shouldn’t be using a weapon like that. Those are for real police officers,” one of the officers scoffed, puffing out his chest to make him appear tougher than he probably was. The other one let out a cheeky laugh.
Here we go again. I was in no mood for
this. I had been here for almost an hour firing this magic gun without a single successful shot. I was already in a foul mood and this wasn’t going to make it any better.
“Well, you shouldn’t be parading around with that ugly meat face of yours scaring little kids, but we can’t all get what we want, can we?” He widened his eyes and let out a grunt, but thankfully shrugged it off and moved along.
I continued on, trying different spelled bullets hoping to get at least one decent shot off. Too much power, too little power, bullets that fizzled out mid-air, bullets that hit the ground instead of the target. I’d probably have better luck hitting the target by throwing the damn gun at it with my bare hands.
I did eventually manage to hit something...myself. A forceful blast of energy came out the wrong end of the gun. I guess that’s what you’d call a magic gun jam. Thankfully, the magic shield protected my head, although my hands weren’t as fortunate. The burning sensation felt like I had just continually rubbed them raw against sandpaper for hours.
I turned to Nolan, expecting him to reprimand me for almost destroying his precious magic weapon. Except he wasn’t there. He never came back. Nearly landing myself a trip to the hospital, I decided I had enough for the day. The sun was setting behind the trees, casting long, dark shadows across the field, and I needed to get home anyway. I packed up the gun in its black carrying case and set off to locate Nolan.
Eventually, I found him in a hallway by the bathroom. “Ah, there you are, my friend. Sorry about that. You know how work stuff can be. All set?” He pointed to the gun case I was carrying at my side.
“Uh, yeah. I nearly blew my hand off with it. Figured I rather like that part of my body and would prefer to keep it attached so I quit while I was ahead.” I handed over the case and gave him an unspoken thank you with a head nod.
“OK, well, see you Monday then.” That’s right, it was Friday. I worked so many hours this week it all melted together like one long day in hell. I pulled out my phone to check the time. It was later than I thought and unfortunately, my apartment was on the other side of the city. Not that I had anything important going on tonight that required my attendance.
“See ya Monday.” I traced my steps back to the station and waited on the platform for the next train. When the doors slid open, I sat down in a nearly empty train car and positioned my bag onto my lap. My gaze dropped to my hands still radiating heat as I painfully clutched the bag and slumped in the seat. The feeling reminded me of a memory I wished I could forget.
The incident that set this whole train wreck into motion happened nearly two years ago when I first started training in the field. Everyone at the station realized I’d never be my father and tossed me aside like a pair of smelly gym socks. It was a rookie mistake...I panicked. The criminal we were chasing ended up killing a young woman, my partner was severely hurt, and the thief was safely tossed into a bush and ran away. I came away with a few scrapes and bruises, but nothing major. That was the day I realized I couldn’t use magic the same way everyone else could.
A fuzzy voice crackled over the speaker announcing the next stop. “Northmill Square.” I tossed my bag over my shoulder and hopped off the train.
The streetlights buzzed, illuminating the busy sidewalks. Everyone was heading out to have some weekend fun with their friends, but not me. Nolan and I had a professional friendship. We never hung out together unless it was work related. Other than that, all my co-workers pretty much wished I would just crawl into a hole and disappear, never coming back. I attended a few conventions or social events around the city once in a while, hoping I might meet someone who shared my interests. The only problem was I didn’t really have any interests to begin with other than wanting to be alone. People always ended up making things more complicated, especially anyone worthy enough to call a friend.
It was getting late, but I didn’t mind the fresh air so I took my time. I punched in my code to open the main apartment door, then lazily dragged my tired feet up to the fourth floor of the small five story building.
I fumbled for my key and unlocked the door, swinging it open to unveil a darkened room lit only by the small twinkle of light from the street lamps and night life outside. I flipped on the light switch and carefully maneuvered my way around piles of clothes, pizza boxes, empty beer bottles, and other questionable substances on the floor. The place was trashed...but I never had any guests over so I didn’t care.
I threw my bag onto the floor and slid off my shoes. As I turned toward the kitchen, something pressed into my bare foot as I rolled my ankle on the curved object. I cussed at myself, hopping on one foot, then looked down. The TV remote. So that’s where that went. I grabbed a box of cereal and opened the fridge to find the milk. A quick whiff caused me to wrinkle my nose in the other direction. Clearly on the verge of spoiling.
I poured it anyway, deciding to suffer through it. When I finished, I piled the empty bowl on top of the mountain of dishes overflowing from the sink and headed to bed.
Chapter 3
A familiar voice was calling out.
Find me....
Ugh. Not this witch hunt again. It was bad enough I killed myself at work during the day, I didn’t need to suffer at night, too. For once, I'd really like to get some restful sleep.
I took in the bare mountain landscape around me. The glowing light from the full moon barely escaped through the transparent gray clouds that hung above me. Just like last time I was here, everything was dead or dying. The trees were mere hollow skeletons of the colorful figures they used to be, their bark discolored and blistered like decomposing skin.
Find me. The disembodied voice was a ghostly whisper sweeping through my consciousness. The man’s voice sent a strange shiver to my soul. I sensed it was familiar, yet at the same time foreign. It bothered me I could never figure out who the voice belonged to, and I would probably never know unless I finally discovered where it was coming from.
I lifted my leg over a fallen tree trunk blocking my way forward. My foot came down mashing into a pool of thick mud that enveloped my boot. The briny smell of the sea surrounding the mountain cut through a slight breeze rustling a few remaining brown leaves still clinging hopefully to their branches. Experiencing the sense of smell in my dreams was a new one for me. Everything I could touch or smell felt very real here, and I’d remember every single detail of the whole thing when I woke up.
As I marched forward, rocky dirt and dead leaves crunched beneath my dark tan leather dress boots tightly laced up to my ankles. With each step, I danced around the puddles avoiding the recent rain. My attire tonight, as it was every night, could only be described as an office dress code of business vigilante. I was thankful I was the only living thing here, and that no one could cast their eyes upon this hideous getup.
I shrugged my shoulders, struggling against the itchy fabric of my starched white cotton shirt rubbing against my neck. Three buttons on the top were left open exposing my neck. I walked like I had a stick up my ass thanks to the uncomfortably short black khaki pants that were too tight in all the wrong places. Most of my body was hidden by a shadowy thick cotton cloak with a deep hood meant more for concealment than fashion. Not the best for a midnight stroll through a dead, wet forest if you asked me.
I strained to see the path ahead in the darkness of the night. From the first time I entered this place, I knew something was very wrong. It was eerily silent. There were no birds calling to each other, no insects chirping, and no animals or other humans anywhere to be found. I was the sole traveler along this lonely path, accompanied only by the clandestine shadows that followed around me.
Find me, the voice echoed again. No matter which path I took, which direction I traveled, I always ended up at the same place in the end. The forest opened up, and I approached an abandoned seaside village nestled along the rugged coastline.
I’ve been here enough times to have scouted every section of this place. The fishing village once had at least a hundred stone building
s that cascaded down the wrinkled mountainside like a cozy fleece blanket, one that I should be wrapping myself in right now instead of dealing with this crap. The houses and pathways clung to steep terraces that overlooked the magnificent horizon as far as the eye could wander. A small section of flat land piled with sand and stone rubble jutted outwards into the sea about halfway down the mountain. Although some houses remained standing in defiance of the people long gone, most succumbed to their demise after years of isolation from humankind. At least that’s what I assumed. I had no idea how long this place had been abandoned or what happened here.
It wasn’t long until the chilling sight of the graveyard came into view. As I entered near the peak of the mountain, rows upon rows of dirt mounds and nameless stone markers faced the edge of the cliff, offering the deceased onlookers an everlasting view of the horizon’s splendor even in death. Tonight, their view was obscured by a thick veil of white fog clinging to the ground.
I continued deeper into the village center, passing several unrecognizable structures now just piles of sooty stone rubbish. A vast blanket of murky fog flowed heavy throughout the narrow streets. Like a snake squeezing itself around its prey, it suffocated every building and every tree at their base, swallowing every distant object and vanishing around every corner. I knew this was all in my head, but this all felt way too familiar. Although I’m pretty sure I would have remembered visiting a place like this.
Find me, the voice called again. I mentally yelled at myself inside my head. Yeah, I know. I would have already if you just told me where to go. Is it so hard to hand me some directions? The voice was being carried in every direction. He wasn’t making this easy.
How to Hunt a Menacing Magical Shadow Page 2