The End of Magic (Young Adult Dystopian Fantasy)

by GM Gambrell

Printed from the Tomoview Message Board:

  Solow1232 – San Francisco is burning. Those Magistrate punks are running around, shooting fireballs and burning everything they see. I don’t know where Junior is.

  Joe3245 – Are you safe?

  Solow1232 – Is anyone safe? They’ll find us eventually. They’re taking everyone to the docks and…well, you know what they’re doing.

  From the Center Gazette, June, 2019:

  Jeremiah Fredrick’s ability to manipulate matter on the atomic level, as demonstrated in his creation of the continent of New Atlantis in the span of an evening, is only eclipsed by Fredrick’s ability to grant what he calls the “Magical abilities” on those whom he chooses. The current social upheaval around the world is a direct result of this ability. Humankind is becoming two distinct species.

  The source of Fredrick’s abilities is the subject of much debate, and his story, that he received his abilities from the sky while walking in the desert one night, are entirely suspect. Fredrick was, until his debut on the world stage, a smalltime stage performer, working mostly in and around London. That he’s chosen like-minded people, stage performers, carnival workers, and others on the fringe of society, to receive his abilities is of great concern to the governments of the world. No amount of threatening or cajoling has been effective to convince Jeremiah Fredrick to change his mind.

  The Naval armada gathering in England, their stated purpose to patrol the areas around the waters of New Atlantis, which Fredrick has proclaimed the homeland of the Magicians, is the largest in history.

  The winds of war are screaming across the globe but it will be a war unlike any other in history.

  From an email by jasonhs2004@yahoo.com:

  I don’t know how much longer my panels and batteries will hold out. The ash from all the burning cities is blocking out the sun and the batteries are getting weak. I’m trying to wire up an alternator to my bicycle, but I don’t know how that’s going to work out.

  You should have seen them, Frank.

  The dragons (I still can’t believe they’re dragons. DRAGONS!) came over the mountains from the west and tore at the city with flames and claws. It was just like in Reign of Fire, man. The flames lit up the night and the city burned for days afterward. There are still some soldiers there, though, and every once in awhile you can hear the howitzers in the city, but I think the Orks are going to wipe them out.

  I snuck down the mountain and to the outskirts of town a couple of days ago. I took dad’s old rifle but I don’t know what good it would have done. If the US Army and Marine Corps couldn’t fight the Magicians, I don’t know what I was going to do with one old .270 Winchester. It felt good to take it, though. There’s a massive Ork camp in Denver, out near the airport. You can see the campfires from miles away, and the smell of burning meat fills the air. It’s not a smell I would wish anyone to smell, Frank. The survivors from the city are marched out there and, well…I’m sure you’ve heard the stories.

  There’s a rumor that there’s some super secret base under that airport and that’s where all the senators and such went in the first days of the war. I think that would actually be sort of funny, in a cosmic sort of way. Our leaders, the cowards, hiding right beneath the Ork encampment. Seems sort of ironic, doesn’t it?

  The President didn’t run, but what good did it do him? They wouldn’t even let us surrender.

  I knew we shouldn’t have pushed them, just like I told you back in July. We shouldn’t have sent those ships out there, we shouldn’t have tried to blockade New Atlantis and keep them there. It’s a moot point now.

  I don’t have any idea if this email will even get through. A lot of the web is already down, and I don’t expect the rest will last much longer. I hope, however, that you and Jen and the kids are safe there in Center. I hope that whatever it is the Army was doing with you guys, it works out.

  Best of luck and all my love.

  Your brother,

  Dillon

  From the email of derrick.blake@mil.gov:

  Mom…I don’t know if you’ll get this email or not, but I have to write it.

  They are finally sealing the doors today. The Magicians were getting too close and the boys in the 4th Infantry Division just couldn’t hold them back. How do you fight a fireball with a tank? Anyway, they’ve taken in the survivors from all the surrounding communities, along with their livestock and grains. The base is absolutely packed and I’m now sharing my room with a family of five from Woodcock County. There’re nice people. Farmers. You’d like them a lot. They brought a deck of Phase 10 cards with them so I guess we’ll be playing a lot of that.

  A lot of guys left before they sealed the doors. The General let them take as much ammo as they could hump out and wished them luck. I…I wanted to go with them, Mom, but I don’t know what I’d do. Dallas has already fallen and you’re so close. I’m sorry, Mom…I’m scared to go outside again.

  The General said that we can set the base up to last a thousand years, if we have to. He said the nuke plant will run that long without having to add fuel, if the hardware will hold out. Maybe, just maybe, the Magicians will be gone when our descendents run out of fuel.

  I hope you and Dad are okay. I’m sorry I couldn’t come home.

  Love,

  Derrick

  Duncan and Jessica read late into the night. They stopped occasionally to share notes, to discuss something they’d read, but otherwise read straight through silently. Much of what he already knew was fleshed out, and the few written stories from the destroyed cities were absolutely heartbreaking. The tales of starvation and sickness, of the early Magistrates tracking the human survivors down through the ruined and desolate cites...he couldn’t imagine living in those times. He couldn’t imagine the person who, in Center, had listened to all those stories on the radio, after the War, and bothered to write them down. That man would have gone mad, he thought. His world, compared to the death and destruction of the Last War, was tame, peaceful even. Despite his species’ upcoming extinction at the hands of the Creeping Death, he still preferred his world to that of his ancestors the first days after the Last War.

  He knew, more than ever, that there was a Source of Magic. Something fell from the sky that night, over a thousand years ago, and Jeremiah Fredrick had found it. He used whatever power it contained to change the world forever, and no force, be it the armies and navies of the world, the mind-boggling destruction of the nuclear missiles, or the will of the human race, could stop him. He’d reshaped the world in his own twisted image.

  “It will be morning soon,” Jessica said. “We’ll have to find a way out.”

  Duncan could have stayed in the library forever. He was surrounded by books, some of his favorite things. Not only did the library contain a good snapshot of the human survivors in the days after the Last War, but the regular books in the library, everything from fiction to books on animals that were long extinct, were the most valuable things on the planet. But Jessica was right. They couldn’t stay in the cavern forever, and the books would be so much useless junk if they didn’t find a way to save the human race.

  “You’re right. There’s just so much here.”

  “So much sadness,” Jessica began. “We did a lot to destroy ourselves.”

  “The nuclear missiles seemed worse than just about anything the Magicians did,” he agreed. “But they didn’t have any choice. They didn’t have any way to fight the Magicians and were facing extinction.”

  “Even so, all those sickened survivors…”

  Duncan nodded in agreement. The descriptions of the survivors of the war, with radiation sickness and burns, were among the hardest things to read. “I know. Okay,” he said, changing the subject, “we have to get out of here and find my father. Maybe if we start in one of the low tunnels and work upwards, we can get out.”

  Jessica nodded and began gathering up their small number of supplies. They’d left so much in the impromptu camp during the storm and earth
quake that they were quickly running out of supplies. It was just another reason they had to leave. Still, Duncan was in a good mood. One day, when everything was settled, he’d return to this place. He’d return to the place and not just read every single book in it, but he’d catalogue the place and protect the books so one day, his children and their children could look back at the world they came from and have at least a glimpse of life before and after the Magicians.

  He started for the front doors, turning to her to say, “We’ll come back one day.”

  “Halt.”

  The voice was much like NAME’s, cold and inhuman, but without the silly movie quotes, and much more authoritative. It seemed to come from multiple locations, though, like what it might sound like if NAME had more than one speaker module. He turned to see what he’d thought of at first as suits of armor for men, standing in a neat formation at the steps of the library, their machine gun arms aimed directly at him.

  “Ah…hello?”

  “Halt, trespasser. By general order 1315 of the city council, you stand accused of the charge of looting. How do you plead?”

  The warrior robots stood unmoving, the cannons and rockets aimed at Duncan and Jessica. The only way he could tell that the machines were on were the two dull blue lights glowing where a man’s eyes would be. He noticed the American flag painted on their chest plates.

  “I’m sorry,” he said. “We weren’t aware of General Order 1315. We’re not from around here.”

  “Impossible,” the machines said in one voice. “No one may enter the shield. All residents inside the shield as of Stasis Three are accounted for.”

  “And do I look like someone on that list?”

  The machines were quiet as they considered. “Negative. You must be a Magician invader. Stand by for execution.”

  Duncan didn’t get a chance to respond as eight machine guns opened at once. Jessica just barely shoved him out of the way as the bullets whizzed by above them. The doors and concrete facing of the building exploded in a shower of wood and cement chips. As they rolled down the steps to where the robots stood and the confused machines attempted to adjust their weapons, Duncan could only think of the damage they were doing to the priceless books inside the library. He managed to get to his knees, and dragging Jessica behind him, crawled beneath the machine guns. The sounds were deafening and the ejected brass from their bullets stung his arms and neck.

  The machines were slow to adjust to the quick movement, giving Duncan and Jessica enough time to scramble over the small brick wall bordering the library.

  “I thought they were suits!” Jessica gasped as the machines managed to turn around and start shooting again. A rocket whizzed by overhead, colliding with a small pickup parked in front of the courthouse.

  “I’m sorry,” Duncan said. “I thought that’s what they were.”

  “At least we know what happened to the people,” Jessica said, implying that the citizens of Center, Texas, had been destroyed by the Warbots.

  Duncan didn’t think so, but didn’t have time to tell her that. If the machines had killed the residents of Center, Texas, where were the bodies? They crawled down the low brick wall as the machines kept firing, sending chunks of dirt and grass over and onto them. The bullets didn’t penetrate down past the low wall, though, and they were able to scramble to the end of the block. The machines stopped momentarily, and Duncan figured they were reloading their weapons.

  “Hurry and run for the courthouse while they’re reloading.” He pointed the way. “We can try to lose them around back.”

  The two stood and sprinted towards the military vehicles. Duncan didn’t stop to think if there were more of the robots or not, at least until they cleared the first truck. He panicked but then was quickly relieved to see the robot’s charging stations empty, then chastised himself for not counting the number of suits when they’d passed through before. He wondered what had activated the machines so late into their visit to the city.

  The Warbots began moving from the library and Duncan wondered if their slow speed was a result of age or just how they’d been designed. He never expected a thousand-year-old machine to work at all, much less work well.

  “Targets acquired,” the machines said in unison and a volley of small rockets flared out through the dim cavern, lighting up the town. He and Jessica ducked behind one of the large black tractor-trailers as the one beside it exploded. The entire rig shot up into the air a hundred feet, trailing fire and molten steel, and then came crashing down on the third truck.

  “Move!” he ordered, pushing Jessica ahead of him towards the back of the courthouse. The machines moved faster over open ground and Duncan gasped as one leapt twenty feet into the air, over the hulks of the burning trucks, and down in front of them.

  “Halt, looter. Prepare for execution.”

  They both dropped to the ground as the machine fired, the bullets screaming by and catching one of the machines behind them. One of the bullets found its way to one of the rockets and the machine exploded, sending hot steel flying. A piece caught Duncan in the leg and he screamed out, but they kept moving, scrambling away from the machine in front of them as it stopped to calculate the damage to its comrade. The remaining twelve bots didn’t stop, however, and bullets began whirling around them as they vied for a shot.

  They’d just made it around the rear corner of the courthouse when rockets slammed into the brick, destroying the wall. Duncan, suddenly inspired, pulled Jessica inside the new opening and, hopefully, away from the robots. They ran through the office, between filing cabinets and desks, and into the outer hallway.

  “Why are they trying to kill us?” Jessica asked, tears in her eyes. “What’s a looter?”

  “I think it means they think we’re trying to steal the town’s belongings. General Order 1315 sounds like something they might have done in the last days to keep everything in order.”

  “They would have ordered the machines to kill their own people just for trying to get the things they needed to survive? That’s insane, but it explains where everyone went. The machines obviously went crazy.”

  Duncan still didn’t think that was it. The machines killing off the citizens just didn’t explain the complete lack of human or animal remains in the town. “I don’t know, Jessica, but it doesn’t matter right now. If we don’t get out of here, we’re going to die.”

  The inside of the courthouse had been turned into a shelter for people who came to the town before the shield went up. The pews had been shoved to the side and there were rows and rows of neatly made cots, each with one green blanket and one white pillow, in the main courthouse. There were stacks of the MRE cartons they were familiar with, and Duncan paused long enough to stuff some into his and Jessica’s packs. They really were looters now, but like back home, he’d already been convicted of the crime. He might as well not starve if he got away.

  The robots didn’t enter the courthouse and instead began repairing the damage they’d caused to the corner of the building. The pair ducked down and watched as they put each brick back, piece by piece, and the mortar between them. It only took the robots a few minutes to put the building back together exactly as it had been.

  “There’s the reason the town is in such good shape. They aren’t just defending it, they’re repairing it and taking care of everything,” Jessica said.

  “I bet that was also a part of their General Order 1315. They are literally protecting the town, down to keeping it just the way it was.”

  “It still doesn’t explain what happened to the people.”

  “We’ll find out one day. Right now we have to run.”

  They paused at the great wooden doors to the courthouse, scanning the street out front. There were numerous small fires still burning, but otherwise the street looked clear. He cringed at how loud the ancient oak door squeaked when he opened it, and then they sprinted into the street, heading back in the direction they had come. His only hope, at the moment, was to reach the pile
of mannequin pieces and scramble up to the hole they’d shot out, maybe somehow making it back to the surface.

  It only took a couple seconds for the robots, now finished with their various repair jobs, to locate them. Duncan came to a skidding stop in the middle of the street, three of the eight-foot tall robots in front of him. Jessica collided into the rear of him, forcing him to the ground. As he tried to stand and return the way they’d come, he saw two more of the robots. There were also along the sidewalk. They were completely surrounded.

  “Please,” Duncan said, knowing this was it. “We have to get back to the surface, to NAME and Sir Dog.”

  “NAME?” the machines spoke at once from around them. “Please elaborate.”

  “NAME…he’s alive and he’s waiting for us on the surface. We just need to get out of here and help him.”

  “Does not compute. North American Main Entity went offline July 4th, 2021.”

  “He might have went offline then, but he’s alive now. He’s your boss, isn’t he?”

  The machines were silent for what seemed like a lifetime. Duncan held Jessica’s hand and they both trembled with fear. Finally, the machines spoke. “Subject is lying to protect himself. Looting charge stands. Prepare for execution.”

  Duncan closed his eyes and gripped Jessica’s hand even tighter. This was it, this was the end of everything for them. He sighed. At least he’d gotten to see a pre-war library.

  There was a large bang and he opened his eyes. One of the machines had hit the ground, but that wasn’t the strange part. The street was filled with Golems swirling about the machines and blocking their sensors. The humanlike creatures were also fighting to knock the machines off their feet. The machines didn’t respond at first.

  “They’re helping us?” Jessica asked.

  “Don’t ask questions, just run,” Duncan said as two of the Golems, their faces still expressionless, grabbed them by the arms and began to drag them away.

  “Citizens are charged with contributing to a riot,” the machines said from their backs, raising their guns and shooting into the air. “Sentence: execution.”

  There weren’t any screams as the machines turned their fury on the Golems, and as Duncan stopped to turn around and help, his Golem escorts kept pushing. “I have to help them,” he pleaded.

  “How?” Jessica asked. “I don’t like this any more than you do, but there’s nothing we can do.”

  The Golems dragged them towards a low cave entrance and shoved them inside. They then blocked the exit back into the town, staring blankly ahead. Duncan pleaded with them, hearing the gunfire behind them. “Please…I can do something…please.”

  A Golem’s chest exploded, showering him with blood specs and bone. The Golem stood there for a long time, even as the machine continued to riddle its body with bullets. The expression on the man’s face never changed.

  “I’m sorry.”

  Jessica screamed as the warrior bots approached, and Duncan grabbed her hand and dashed into the darkness of the tunnel.