Gun Mage 2: Surviving a Post Apocalyptic Magic Earth

by Logan Jacobs

  “We will, but only if you give up this tirade you’ve gone on and find the gunman and his accomplice,” the portal mage decreed.

  The scavenger woman looked along the length of the road for a moment, but I knew she would agree. The rest of the civilians who could still move were long gone, and the lawmen would make sure that the rest were removed from scavenger territory. Slim pickings if she didn’t take the deal.

  “Let’s find the boy!” the scavenger woman shouted at her comrades.

  With a loud whoop, the scavengers turned toward the east. They were in full terror mode, yet the lawmen let them ride away just so they could hunt for me and Sorcha. I started to point the gun toward the only lawman who had spoken, but Sorcha kept her hand on my arm.

  “We didn’t pass them on the way here,” the portal mage declared, “so they must still be nearby.”

  The lawman nodded and looked around the area. He spotted the remains of Morris Avenue and rode up toward the intersection.

  “Where does this go?” the portal mage asked as he rode up next to the lawman.

  “Mutant area,” the lawman replied as he studied the ground.

  “Then they wouldn’t be there,” the portal mage pointed out. “They must have gone back into the woods.”

  The lawman peered at the ground a moment longer, then urged his horse back toward the rest of the group. He issued instructions to his men, and they quickly split up into search parties. Soon, it was just the one lawman and the two mages. I was ready to take out all three when the portal mage started to ride west again without saying anything else. The other mage blindly followed, and after a moment, so did the lawman. They weren’t riding very fast, and they stopped again near another old intersection.

  “What were you saying about being free of mages and scavengers?” I asked quietly as we crept backward. “You should have let me shoot those three, and then we could have ridden away.”

  “The sound of that gun would have brought every scavenger and lawman in the area down on us, and you don’t have enough bullets left to deal with that many people,” Sorcha pointed out.

  “So, now where do we go?” I sniped, though I knew she was probably right.

  Sorcha looked behind us.

  “There is one other path,” she murmured in a shaky voice.

  “The mutants?” I asked in surprise. “I thought you said you’d rather take your chance with the mages.”

  “There may be only two now, but there will be more on the way, especially since they know you’ve been through here,” she pointed out. “I hate the idea, I really do, but I think we’re out of options, unless you think you can handle a scavenger horde and the mages without a gun.”

  “Damn it,” I muttered.

  I risked a peek over the top of the grass. The mages and the lawman were still there, though just out of range of the Colt. I still liked the idea of trying to make a run for it on their horses until I caught the sound of more hooves approaching. Another group of lawmen and mages rode into view, and this group didn’t disperse like the other one had.

  “I guess we’re doing the wasteland,” I sighed.

  We crawled through the grass until we were well away from the road and at least had a few scraggly trees we could hide under. Even then we loped to the door in a crouched position, and neither one of us spoke while I studied the lock once more. I dug through our satchels and found the slender blades I’d found on Benny and June’s barge.

  “Do you know how to do this?” Sorcha asked.

  “Sort of,” I admitted. “One of those things we used to play around with when we were stuck around the ranch with nothing to do. And if they haven’t added any really crazy spells, I can probably get this open in a few minutes. Unless you know a handy spell or two?”

  “Sorry,” Sorcha sighed. “Good thing there were all those boring days around the ranch. First poker, now lock picking.”

  “Yep,” I agreed with a grin. “Though the lock picking was something I practiced with the Reese girls when I was a kid, not when I was a hand. It’s how we used to sneak one of the cook’s apple pies without anyone knowing. Just let me know if anybody starts to get too close.”

  I worked as quickly and as quietly as I could, but long minutes passed before I felt the tumblers fall into place. I nodded to Sorcha, then tugged on the ring. There was a brief screeching sound, and I immediately let go. The door had barely budged, but the noise would have been heard on the road.

  “They’re coming,” Sorcha said as she glanced toward the highway, and I could hear the hooves of the horses as they moved toward us.

  I tugged the door wider until there was just enough room for us to squeeze through. Sorcha darted in ahead of me, and I followed behind her. Then we both grabbed the ring on the mutant side of the door and pulled the door shut. It closed with a thud, and I stood still for a moment to steady my nerves.

  “No lock on this side,” I pointed out when I could hear something besides my own heartbeat again.

  “No need for one,” Sorcha reminded me. “No one on this side is supposed to leave.”

  We heard the horses on the other side approach the gate, and Sorcha and I sprang away. We bolted down what was left of the avenue, deep into mutant territory. Neither of us had a chance to consider just how dangerous that could be until the road became little more than a footpath, and the sky was lost beneath the heavy branches of the trees. There were ghost buildings here as well, slowly being eaten by the surrounding forest.

  “Are we still on Morris Avenue?” Sorcha whispered when we slowed to a walk.

  “I think so,” I whispered back. “Can you tell if there are any mutants nearby?”

  “There’s plenty of life around here,” Sorcha noted. “And there are humans around. I can’t tell much more than that just yet.”

  “Well, this isn’t a very long stretch,” I tried to reassure her as I pointed the Colt toward the sound of something scurrying through the deadfall.

  “How will we get out once we reach the other side?” she asked.

  “We find another gate,” I replied, though I had no idea if there were any more gates.

  “Hmm,” Sorcha mused.

  We trudged on and I started to grow more comfortable with the wasteland. Most of the animals and plants were the same, and I could spot many of the same dangers that lingered outside the wall. Still, there was a sense that we were being watched, and not by the usual wildlife.

  I peered into the shadows and the dark places beneath the trees whenever I felt a pair of eyes on me, but all I ever caught was a hint of movement out of the corners of my eyes. I never heard anything or smelled anything that might give away our stalker’s position, which made it even more difficult to figure out what followed us.

  “Someone’s following us,” I murmured.

  “I feel it, too,” Sorcha replied with a nod. “But I’m not sure what it is.”

  “Maybe we should pick up the pace,” I suggested.

  We started to move more quickly, though it was hard to keep up a dead run with all the tree roots, rocks, and similar hazards on the path. We were forced to stop when we nearly stumbled into a tree that had fallen across the path. It was an old and enormous tree, and our only options were to clamber over it, or try to walk around it.

  “Over or around?” I asked as I peered into the woods.

  “Over,” Sorcha replied quickly. “I don’t think I want to run into whatever is hiding in there.”

  As we started to climb over the trunk, a howl went up from nearby. It was the long howl of a wolf, and I knew then what had been following us along the path.

  “Is it just the one?” Sorcha asked as she scanned the trees.

  “If it is, it won’t be for long,” I sighed.

  We dropped to the ground on the other side and started to run again, but this time we could hear something moving among the leaves. It kept pace with us as another howl filled the air. A second howl responded, and then we could hear more animals star
t to give chase.

  As fast as we were, we couldn’t stay ahead of the wolves, and as we passed a dilapidated house, one of the canines leapt from the brush and landed on the road in front of us.

  I fired the gun without even thinking and hoped the sound would be enough to drive the remaining wolves away. But the wolf was still standing, long after the wisp of smoke and acrid smell had drifted away. There was no blood, and no wound that I could see, though it was hard to be sure against the deep black of its coat.

  “Why didn’t you shoot it?” Sorcha asked in a panicked tone as she spotted the rest of the pack starting to emerge from the trees.

  “I did shoot it,” I said in disbelief.

  The wolf moved forward slowly, though glided might have been a better description. There was something amorphous about its shape, so that it appeared to float rather than step. As it drew closer, all I could think of was the black fog that Scott had created to try to keep us at the inn.

  Except that fog didn’t have large teeth and a fearsome growl, or a pair of hungry yellow eyes.

  Chapter 5

  I took aim at the wolf in front of us again, this time at the head. The wolf stopped and waited, as if curious to see if I would really waste another bullet on it.

  “These aren’t normal wolves,” Sorcha warned.

  “I gathered that,” I deadpanned. “How do we get away from them?”

  The wolves started to move again, and I fired at a smaller one on my right. The pack stopped again and in a weird synchronized move, they all turned toward the wolf I’d shot. That one hung its head for a moment, and I thought I saw blood along its snout. But then the wolf shook its head and lifted its muzzle, and there wasn’t a drop of blood anywhere.

  “Shit,” I muttered.

  Alarm bells were going off like crazy in my head, which meant I only had one bullet left. Of course, that didn’t really matter since the bullets didn’t have any effect on the wolves anyway. What I couldn’t figure out was how they were protected. Some animals had hides so thick they were as good as armor. But I wasn’t convinced that was the case with these wolves. It was more like the bullets had been absorbed somehow.

  Sorcha had dug out the fire sticks and handed a pair to me. It was as good as any other option at that point, and I watched as she managed to create enough flame to light the fuses.

  Before we lit the first fuse, though, a gentle hum began to saturate the air. I could feel the vibration of it as well, like a gentle breeze blowing across my skin. The wolves started to lower their heads, and bit by bit, they stepped back.

  A woman appeared suddenly out of the corner of my vision. She stepped around the edge of an old house, her arms lifted over her head as if in benediction. She walked toward us, slowly and calmly, and when she was only a few feet away, she lowered her arms to her sides and nodded toward the first wolf I had shot.

  The humming disappeared, and the woman began to chant something in a language I had never heard before. It wasn’t the one the mages used to cast spells. I could recognize the sounds of that one, even if I didn’t know what the words meant. But this one was full of strange tones I hadn’t heard before, and moved at a slower pace, like a tortoise moving between ponds.

  The slow pace of the woman’s speech gave it a soothing rhythm, not unlike Sorcha’s own magical voice. Sorcha and I both stood still and listened to the near chant, as enraptured with the sound as the wolves that had surrounded us were. The wolves, for their part, cocked their heads and twitched their ears, as if they understood what was being said.

  When the woman was done, she raised her arms again, and the wolves slunk away. The woman watched them leave, a sad look on her face as they faded away into the shadows once again. When the last wolf had vanished, and the birds and squirrels started to chatter again, the woman turned toward me and Sorcha and gave us a quizzical look.

  “Are you mutants?” she asked, though the tone of her voice indicated that she didn’t believe that.

  I finally realized that she was a mutant. It was hard to spot at first glance. She looked like any number of women I knew, with dusky skin, long black hair in a braid, and warm brown eyes that were full of concern. But as she walked toward us, I could see that the dusky tone of her skin was really a very fine coating of fur. A line of spots started just below the jaw line and formed a trail down her neck, then disappeared beneath her gown. And the loosely bound braid barely concealed the two tufted ears that flicked in our direction.

  “No,” Sorcha finally replied. “We… needed a shortcut.”

  The woman looked at us like we were the most bizarre things she’d ever seen. And since we’d just admitted that we’d ventured inside a mutant wasteland in search of a shortcut, it was hard to find fault with that evaluation.

  “This sounds like a tale I’d like to hear,” the woman finally said. “My name is Danielle Greentree, but everyone just calls me Dani.”

  “I’m Sorcha, and this is Hex,” Sorcha offered in return.

  “Well, Sorcha and Hex, I could offer you some food and drink, and then help you on your way,” Dani suggested as she continued to stare at us in amused puzzlement. “Though I should probably warn you that we don’t get many guests around here, so some of my social skills may be lacking.”

  Sorcha and I exchanged questioning looks. There was no doubt that Dani was a mutant, but she didn’t seem to be the bloodthirsty beast we’d all been warned to avoid. If you ignored the ears, fur, and the spots, she seemed perfectly normal. Of course, so had a lot of the other people we’d met so far on this journey, and they had turned out to be anything but nice or normal.

  “I promise, I don’t bite and I don’t eat human flesh,” Dani added when neither of us leapt at her invitation.

  “A break would be nice,” I finally admitted as I slipped the gun into my jacket.

  “Good,” Dani declared. “I can’t wait to hear what’s going on outside the walls.”

  Dani walked away, and after a moment, Sorcha and I followed after her. She led us past more decaying homes and around the edges of an old playground. There was an eerie feel to the place that always seemed to exist in these forgotten towns, like the people who had lived here might return at any moment. There were toys scattered in one yard, and a flat machine with an engine, four wheels, and a bar to push it abandoned in another. Curtains still hung in the windows, and cars were scattered on streets and parked next to homes.

  Behind the town, we climbed along a hillside and came to a halt near a pre-magic building that looked out over the flatland below. It was a two-story red brick structure surrounded by a parking lot, a field of corn and an oval track that had no obvious purpose. There was a reviewing stand like the town back home set up for celebrations, but this one sat near the edge of the corn. Nearby stood two rows of poles that arced toward each other. A flat board had been attached to the end of the pole with a metal circle nailed to it. The circles were set into the board horizontally and faced each other across about ninety feet of cracked concrete.

  “What was this?” I asked as Dani started to walk toward the building.

  “A high school,” Dani replied.

  The mutant woman led us across the parking lot to a wide staircase. We climbed the steps to the six doors that stood at the top. There were more signs of life here, like the fanciful figures someone had painted on the doors and the pots of herbs on the window sills. There was also a warning sign next to the doors with a picture of a red-robed mage with an x over it.

  “Do you live here alone?” I asked as I studied the sign.

  “Oh, goodness, no,” Dani laughed as she held the door open. “There’s quite a few of us here. It’s safer than living alone in one of the houses and easier to care for, though there are quite a few who still try to live on their own or with one or two others.”

  “And everyone here is a mutant?” Sorcha asked in disbelief.

  “Well, no one else comes through here just to get to the other side,” Dani pointed out. “
Until now.”

  Dani guided us down a long, wide hallway lined with flat metal cabinets fronted by stacked rows of doors. We passed doorways with glass panels that looked in on large square rooms. Some still looked like the classrooms I knew, with desks for students and a chalkboard at the front. Others had clearly been converted to personal use.

  Yet, we hadn’t seen anyone else. There were definitely other people in the building. I could hear them as they moved around and the susurration of whispered conversations, but no one appeared to greet us or demand to know why we were there. It seemed odd, though maybe it wasn’t in a place where visits from guests were nonexistent.

  We ended up in a room large enough to hold several hundred people at one time. There was a stage at one end, where a handwritten sign announced the next performance of Jolie. The rest of the space was filled with long beige tables. Only a few had chairs, though, and Dani led us to a group of seats near another entrance, though this one, and its companion a few feet further down the wall, had no door.

  Dani waited until Sorcha and I were seated and then disappeared into the adjoining room, which if the smell was any indication, was probably the kitchen. She returned a few moments later with pitchers of fresh water and apple cider, a basket of fresh rolls and a platter of cheeses, pickles and nuts, all carefully balanced on a tray that was a bit small for the job.

  “Please, help yourself,” the mutant said as she set everything on the table. She disappeared into the kitchen again, then returned with clean glasses, plates and some dried sausage.

  “This looks delicious,” Sorcha declared as she took in the options.

  I poured everyone a glass of cider, then took my turn selecting my food. Even though we’d eaten on the road, I was hungry again, especially after the encounter with the wolves. I filled a roll with a soft, creamy cheese, added some slices of the sausage and pickles, and then bit into the heavenly concoction.

  “I don’t know if you’re the chef,” I finally said when I’d scarfed down half the roll, “but this is really wonderful. I don’t think I’ve ever had sausage as good as this, and the cheese is perfect.”