“Hate to say I told you so,” Sharp said. “Actually, no, I don’t. I totally called that.”
Howard waved for silence again. This time he did address Bert. “Waylon Drake, I find you guilty of trespass, treachery, and cowardice. Will you surrender to the mercy of our pack?”
“Um,” Bert said, unsure what else to say. “Nah, I don’t think so.”
This was met with a number of boos. Howard’s grin returned. “Then you leave us no choice. Your penance shall be wrought on our teeth. I sentence you to death!”
Approval roared through the old factory.
“Okay,” Bert said, shrugging. “But here’s the thing… I choose not to adhere to your silly made-up fur-baby laws, and clearly, you were planning on killing me anyway. So, with that in mind, I will defer to my own set of made-up laws, and elect to reserve my right to escape.”
Bert fired his spell, launching himself toward the ceiling. He fired another spell as he ascended, shattering the skylight above him. With it out of the way, his jump spell carried him through the large hole and onto the roof.
He glanced down at the stunned were-creatures below. He heard Howard’s voice scream, “Kill the wizard!”
There was a surge of commotion from within the building and a sea of angry barks. He turned, looking for an escape route. Moving on all fours, it wouldn’t take the were-dogs long to catch up. He ran.
He sped across the roof and jumped over to the next warehouse. Behind him, the roof access door banged open. He didn’t bother to look behind him.
“Big dogs,” Sharp warned. “Lots of big dogs.”
“How many?” Bert asked, still running.
“Five. No, six. Seven. Eight. Nine! Shit, that’s a lot of dogs!”
“Okay, I get it. There’s a lot!” Bert growled. “How far back?”
“They’re gaining, but you have some space. You should be able to get to the next roof before they catch up.”
Bert pushed on, wishing he’d spent more time doing cardio than drinking. The cold night air had his lungs aflame, but the pursuing growls and barks inspired him to push on.
“Um,” Sharp said, “you know how I said you could get to the next roof?”
“Am I going to make it?”
“Uh...” Sharp said, “Uh...”
“That’s not helping!”
“Maybe... Uh, yes! Yes! No! Damn, it’s going to be close, but go!”
The next gap was wider and Bert had to use a little magic to clear it.
“Bert!” Sharp yelled.
Bert spun mid-flight, swinging his staff like a bat. A solid smack rang through the air as it made contact with a Labrador’s head. The dog yelped and fell between the buildings, hitting the ground with a thud.
Bert landed on the other side and glanced behind him. The remaining dogs halted, staring at him from across the gap with murder in their eyes. Bert held his staff up menacingly.
“Not to be the bearer of bad news,” Sharp said. “But I think they’re coming up from this building too.”
“I can hear them, Sharp,” he replied. “But as soon as I move they’ll cross. I can’t outrun them.”
“As I’ve said before, do more cardio.”
The dogs growled at him but still didn’t make their move. He could hear barks from below as well. In a matter of moments, he’d be surrounded.
Chapter 22
Hunter’s life was falling apart. His reality had been turned upside down and couldn’t wrap his head around it. Sitting in the Beast alone, puffing away on hand rolled cigarettes, he’d lost track of the time. There was too much on his mind.
His thoughts were broken by the distant sounds of barking. At first they hadn’t stood out, but as the numbers grew they caught his attention. Oh shit, he thought, sitting up. Bert had said they were dogs. He tossed his cigarette and looked toward the old factory buildings. Dogs were running all around, like there was a prison break at the pound. Then he saw a figure standing on one of the roofs waving a stick in the air.
Acting on instinct, he fired the Beast to life and slammed it in gear. He leaned forward and pulled his Colt 1911 from its concealed holster. Then he smashed the gas pedal and headed toward his friend.
***
Bert heard the Beast roar to life, and glanced over to see Hunter driving toward him. Forming a plan on the fly, he fired a lightning bolt at the dogs across from him and ran. He didn’t bother to see if he struck anything, but a few yelps told him his aim had been true.
The whimpers were followed by growls and he knew the dogs were still in pursuit. As he ran he drew his gun, and when Sharp warned him they were closing in, he turned and fired at the nearest dog’s feet. The dog yelped and the whole pack stopped, watching him warily.
Bert glanced at Hunter and pointed to the far end of the building. Hunter received the message and turned sharply, fishtailing around to run alongside the building. Bert pressed on, sprinting.
Hunter slammed on the brakes as he came around the end of the building, reaching across and throwing open the passenger door. Leaning back out of the driver’s door, he aimed his handgun to offer cover fire.
Bert jumped off the roof and hit the ground lightly, coming up in a roll. He ran straight for the passenger side. Dogs came around the side of the building and Hunter opened fire.
Long before Hunter had become a cop, he and Bert had spent countless hours out in the country shooting guns. Bert didn’t know a better shot. Even under pressure, he was deadly. The first three dogs who rounded the corner fell to the powerful rounds of the .45.
Bert hopped in the truck and slammed the door. He took over the shooting now, and emptied the rest of his rounds at the dogs as well. Hunter slammed the driver door and hit the gas. With the Beast at full speed, they lost the pack in a matter of moments. Bert reloaded his gun and sat back. He glanced at Hunter and said, “Thanks. You probably saved my life.”
“What the hell just happened?”
“You might not believe me if I told you,” Bert replied. “But this is why I wanted you stay with the Beast.”
“So, I take it that it didn’t go so good?”
“You could say that,” he replied, feeling the wariness wash over. “That’s enough for today. Let’s go home.”
The ride was silent for a few minutes, and Bert could tell Hunter was lost in deep thought. He had a feeling he knew what was on his mind, but figured he’d let Hunter get around to it in his own time.
Hunter ran a hand over his bald head and looked over at Bert. “Those dogs... Those were...”
“Yeah, Hunter,” he replied softly. “They were men, too.”
Hunter nodded slowly. Bert knew what he was feeling. The weight of taking another human’s life. He found himself wishing he hadn’t brought Hunter. He shook the thought from his mind. He knew better than to wallow in regret. Especially while his friend had so much on his mind.
Slowly, Hunter said, “I killed them.”
“Yeah.” Bert paused, unsure what to say. “Hunter, I could tell you that you didn’t ask for that fight. I could tell you that you did it because you were trying to save your friend. I could tell you that their intentions were evil. But I know none of that matters to you right now. It will though, eventually. After a while it will.”
“Most cops...” Hunter swallowed and said, “Most cops say they never once fire their gun in their whole career. One day in your world and I’ve already killed. Does it even matter why?”
“Yes,” Bert said, watching his friend. “It does. You aren’t a killer. You fight for what’s right. You always have, Hunter. That’s why you didn’t hesitate. You protect those you care about. That’s what makes it matter.”
“Is this normal for you? I mean, have you killed a lot of men?”
Bert nodded. “More than I’d care to admit.”
“And it doesn’t bother you anymore?”
“Of course it does,” Bert said, shaking his head. “But, I just don’t dwell on it anymore. There are bad
things out there, Hunter. Monsters, both human and otherwise. I’ve never killed anyone in cold blood. Just monsters, and only when they’re trying to hurt others, or in self-defense. The world is a dark place. Sometimes it’s you or them.”
“I hope you’re right,” Hunter said. “But your world doesn’t seem nearly as magical all of a sudden.”
The rest of the ride home was silent.
Chapter 23
Bert dropped off Hunter and they agreed to meet in the morning. Tired and beat down, Bert headed home. He pulled into his driveway and parked. As he stepped out of the Beast, an alarm sounded in his head, snapping him awake. His wards were going off. The first level. A mage was on the property.
But the second level didn’t activate. Perhaps the same mysterious visitor from before. Whoever it was, they wanted him to know they were there. Jim and Kevin must’ve been right, it had to be someone they knew.
Bert’s gaze drifted across the dark field. There, barely visible under the glow of the moon, a figure stood near the tree line.
“What do you think?” he asked Sharp.
“They either want to talk, or lure you away from the house,” Sharp replied. “It feels a little too like the movie Deliverance to me. Don’t worry, though, your mouth ain’t that pretty, so they’ll probably just kill you.”
“Well, between every other bat shit crazy enemy, I’m probably not long for this world anyway.”
Throwing on his jacket and ensuring his gun was loaded, Bert marched toward the dark figure. As he drew closer, the shadow turned and began walking into the woods.
“Oh, boy,” Sharp said. “If you hear a banjo, you’d better run like a son of a bitch.”
“Noted,” Bert said as he approached the tree line. “I really hate you sometimes, Sharp.”
“I know, Bert,” Sharp said earnestly. “I really hate you sometimes, too.”
Bert felt confident any foe would have a hard time ambushing him in the woods. These were his woods. His home. He knew his way around. Ahead, in the darkness, the shadowed figure continued toward the creek bank.
Bert followed, all while drawing magical energy and summoning his shield.
The light from the moon reflected off the dark water, and Bert could see the figure crouched on the edge of the bank. He approached slowly.
“It’s been ages since I’ve seen this creek,” the man said in a familiar voice. “We had a lot of good times out here, didn’t we?”
The figure rose and turned to face him. He was considerably taller than Bert and wide shouldered. Hiding his muscled frame in all black fatigues. His dark hair was cut short, military style, but he had a well-groomed mustache and goatee. He held a black wizard staff.
“Simon,” Bert said quietly.
Simon’s white teeth showed in the moonlight. “It’s been a long time, brother.”
“Yes, it has,” Bert said evenly. It had been years since Simon up and left. Along with Kevin, Jim, and Neil, the five of them had been like brothers. Especially Simon and Jim. They’d known each other since boyhood.
As if reading his thoughts, Simon asked, “How are the others?”
“Why don’t you go ask them yourself?”
Simon shook his head. “I can’t do that just yet. I will if I can, though.”
“So, it’s business then,” Bert said, but after a moment, added, “They’re good, Simon. They’ve all but put their staves down and moved on with life. Neil is married and has two kids.”
“Wow,” Simon said, raising an eyebrow. “I wouldn’t have guess he’d be the first of us to settle down.”
“Jim has a live-in girlfriend. They’ll probably be married soon. Kevin’s still single. You know how he is.”
Simon smiled. “Set in his ways, like always.”
Bert didn’t smile but responded, “Indeed.”
“So, they’re happy then?” Simon asked. “Content with leaving the magic behind?”
“It would appear so.”
“Not you, though?”
“No.”
Simon nodded. “I’ve heard things. Well one thing, really. They say you killed a powerful dark wizard.”
Bert shrugged. “Seems like a lot of people have heard about that.”
“How many low-level wizards like us have fought a dark wizard and lived? How’d you do it?”
He hadn’t told anyone the truth about his run in with Senechal, and he wasn’t about to start here. Prior to the last few days, he’d thought having a reputation would be a good thing. Clearly, he was wrong. More poignant, however, was the fact he didn’t know the reason behind Simon’s strange visit, and he had a bad feeling about it.
“It’s cool,” Simon said, putting up his hands defensively. “I get it. Don’t want to ruin the mysterious wizard image. You did make a name for yourself, though.”
“It’s not a good thing,” Bert assured him.
“No, it’s not,” Simon replied with a hint of sorrow. “That’s sort of why I’m here, Bert.”
“Is it, now?” Bert asked, his voice colder than he might’ve intended.
“Listen, Bert, you have to believe me, I didn’t want to come here,” he said, biting his lower lip. “I didn’t want to bring you into this. My boss... He didn’t give me a choice.”
“And who’s your boss? For that matter, why are you here?”
“You’ll find out in a moment, old friend. He wants to talk to you.”
As he finished, Sharp spoke into his mind, “Heads up, Bert, we aren’t alone. Other side of the river.”
Bert turned and watched several figures approach the opposite embankment from the forest. As they stepped out into the moonlight, Bert recognized Chance and his hipster wizard goon squad, along with several more. And even more. Good God, he thought, it’s like hipster mage whole sale. There had to be thirty of them.
Bert glared at Simon and pointed his thumb at the others. “Please tell me you’re not with these idiots.”
“They’re my family, now,” Simon said, lowering his head. “I need you to understand.”
“Understand that your new family threatened to kill me?” Bert asked, gritting his teeth. “Got it, old friend.”
Simon wouldn’t meet his gaze.
“Is this why you tripped our ward the other night?” Bert asked. “Jim and Kevin were up in fits.”
Simon shook his head. “No. I wasn’t supposed to do that. I was just watching. I could see the lights from the house… I missed you guys.”
“Oh?” Bert said. “Just not enough to keep your friends from threatening me?”
“I’m sorry, Bert.” Simon paused. “Our leader said this was the best way to prove my loyalty… To prove my old life was behind me.”
“So, have you proven your loyalty yet?” Bert asked, feeling his face flush and noting the ice in his tone. He didn’t care. “Better yet, tell me this. Why the fuck are you here? What do you want?”
Simon glanced back across the water. “He’s coming.”
On the other bank, the wall of millennials parted, and an older man stepped forward. Moonlight glinted off his solid white hair. It was combed over to the side. His face was clean shaven and even in the dim light, Bert could see his smirk. He, too, was dressed in all black but he didn’t appear to be armed.
Bert knew better. He was clearly a powerful mage.
Stepping to the edge of the bank he said, “It’s a pleasure to make your acquaintance, Waylon Drake. Or do you prefer Bert?”
Bert gave the man his best glare. “Only my friends call me Bert.” Then, with a poignant look in Simon’s direction, added, “You lot can call me Waylon.”
“My name is Nero,” the older man said. “I am the leader of these young wizards.”
Bert didn’t reply.
“I owe you an apology,” Nero said, making a half attempt at a warm smile. “I underestimated you. Or, perhaps, I overestimated Chance. Either way, you worked his little group over. I was surprised when they returned beaten and bruised.”
> “It was my pleasure,” Bert said, smiling back.
Nero chuckled. “Well, I hope you can forgive the rashness of my decision. Surely, you understand I couldn’t let you go untested before acquiring your assistance. I thought it might be wise to meet you in person to ensure you received the message, and knew what was expected of you.”
“You could’ve just called,” Bert replied. “But, yeah, I got your message. Do as you bid or die. It was pretty clear. Don’t worry, I’ll find your damn trinket. In the meantime, feel free to fuck off at your own convenience.”
There were a few gasps from across the creek, and beside him Simon whispered, “Bert, don’t.”
Bert ignored him and glared at Nero. He was mad. It was one thing for a bunch of overpowered strangers to threaten him, but it was another to find out one his oldest friends was with them. To hell with it, he thought, let them kill me now so he has to watch. Maybe Nero would even make Simon do it. He wondered if he would.
Nero broke his thoughts, laughing. “Exactly the charisma I’d expect from the wizard who killed Senechal.”
“So, who told you about me?”
“It wasn’t your friend, if that’s your concern. When we heard the object was headed this way, you were recommended. Highly recommended, I might add.”
“So, you were already after this item?”
Nero’s grin spread. “Look at you. Clever boy.”
Bert felt Nero was toying with him. He’d intentionally slipped that bit of information to see if Bert would pick up on it. He was smart and manipulative. Bert liked him less by the moment.
“You know, Waylon,” Nero said, watching him thoughtfully, “I’ve rethought my position on you. Simon tried to convince me to this way of thinking, but I wasn’t sure. Another reason I wanted to meet you in person.”
“Oh?”
“Yes, you see, these young mages, as you have probably ascertained, are all runaways from the Hand. Rogues, if you will. But they aren’t evil, as the Hand would suggest. They’re just intelligent young minds who didn’t want to be oppressed. Yet because of this, they are branded as outlaws and terrorists. I banded them together and have protected them. We have become a family. We take care of one another.”
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