Moonshine Wizard

by Phillip Drayer Duncan

  As Hunter reloaded again, he smiled at Jim and yelled, “We’re kicking their asses now!”

  Jim smiled back, not bothering with a reply.

  A short ways away, Bert was thinking the same thing.

  ***

  Bert couldn’t believe how well it was going. From what he’d learned from Robert, these guys were serious business, but so far his little group had them reeling. One grenade had almost broken his shield, but not quite.

  The Brotherhood members were all seeking cover now, and it appeared the home team had the upper hand.

  “Uh, Bert,” Sharp said.

  “What?”

  “I’m not sure, but I think we have a problem.”

  “What?”

  “Look over at that building to the left.”

  Bert’s gaze swept across the square until he spotted a building with several Brotherhood members inside of it. At the front, they were guarding a large broken window and returning fire. Behind the guys at the window, however, were more that were huddled over some sort of device.

  “I can’t tell for sure from here, but it looks like... Bert! Get everyone back! Now!”

  “What? What is it?”

  “It’s a transmitter! For explosives!”

  “What?”

  “They must have rigged bombs! It was a trap!”

  Bert glanced back down the alley just in time to see one of his rearguard take a bullet to the head. The Brotherhood was attacking them from behind. His whole group might’ve been mowed down if not for the cover of the construction materials.

  Bert called to Jim and screamed, “Jim! Get everyone out! We’ve walked right into—”

  Before he could finish, the bomb went off.

  Chapter 30

  Bert’s voice cut off in Jim’s mind as the boom echoed throughout the cavern, shaking the ground beneath his feet. He stumbled and nearly fell, but managed to catch himself. Others around him weren’t so fortunate.

  “Bert!” he cried out with his mind. “Bert! Answer me, goddammit!”

  Hunter moved toward him, his face ashen with concern. Only then did Jim realize he’d been screaming out loud as well. Hunter met his gaze and asked, “What is it?”

  “An explosion of some kind. Bert won’t answer me. He was trying to tell me it was a trap.”

  “Shit,” Hunter said. “We better move!”

  “Retreat!” Jim screamed at the top of his lungs. “Everyone fall back! And get as close to me as you can!”

  He doubled down on his shield, using every ounce of energy he had to make it stronger as they moved down the alley pulling everyone in close. They weren’t fast enough.

  The second floor of the building beside them exploded outward, showering the alley in debris and flame. The blast beat against his shield and this time he did fall, but managed to hold the shield as flame licked its perimeter and falling debris pounded against it.

  One man stumbled and fell out of the circle, screaming as his body disappeared into the dark smoke. Jim gritted his teeth and held on, protecting what remained of his group in a bubble surrounded by darkness, as though the smoke were a living thing trying to consume them.

  Trembling, he knew he couldn’t hold for long, but he fought on, refusing to give in.

  ***

  Hunter glanced at Jim, unsure how to help him. His lips were peeled back in a feral grin while the veins on his forehead looked ready to burst. Clearly, it was taking every effort of Jim’s will to keep them protected, and there wasn’t a damn thing Hunter could do to help him.

  He did a quick survey of the strike team. They’d lost nearly half.

  Waving to get everyone’s attention, he yelled, “Make sure your guns are loaded and ready! When the smoke clears we’re going to be under heavy fire!”

  Most complied, but one man rocked back and forth hugging his knees. Another lay on the ground, sobbing openly. The others didn’t look much better, but they loaded their damn guns.

  Beside him, the strain seemed to drain off Jim’s face, and he suspected that the greatest danger had passed. He forced himself to his knees and pointed his rifle back down the alley. At this point, he didn’t know if the others would still fight, but he was going to, dammit. He wasn’t giving up.

  But as he waited for the smoke to clear, his mind wandered to Bert. Was he still alive? Jim said he hadn’t responded. That he’d lost him when the first explosion erupted. Bert could create a shield, too, though. Perhaps he hadn’t responded due to the strain. Yeah, that was it, he told himself, knowing it was weak. They’d said Jim was the best at shields, and a few moments ago it had been all he could do to protect them.

  As the smoke began to clear, Hunter saw the extent of the damage. The walls were missing from the building beside them, and debris lay everywhere. Several of their comrades lay beneath piles of rubble, though it didn’t appear any were moving. Chances were none had survived the heat of the blast, and if they had, the falling debris had done the rest. It was unlikely anyone outside Jim’s bubble had survived.

  And the Brotherhood was closing in, like phantoms, their silhouettes appearing in the dust as they drew nearer. Coming to finish the job, no doubt. Hunter opened fire, trying to suppress their approach and praying his allies would stand with him. Much to his relief, the surviving members of his team began to fire as well.

  Pausing to reload, Hunter took a step back and glanced at Jim. He was clearly dazed, if not unconscious. Hunter leaned down and threw Jim’s arm over his shoulder. Holding his rifle in one hand, he pulled Jim to his feet with the other and slowly backed down the alley, yelling at the others to follow.

  Return fire from the Brotherhood rained in, but didn’t make contact. Instead, the bullets sizzled against a magic shield and fell harmlessly to the ground. Hunter glanced at Jim again. His eyes were closed and he was mumbling incoherently, but somehow, he managed to keep the shield going, even then.

  As they rounded the corner, he discovered he’d been wrong about their team. A few of the rearguard still lived, and they were fighting off a horde of Brotherhood. The purple-skinned man was in the center of the melee, holding off a few of the ninjas with two big ass knives. His face and body hosted a score of cuts, but he was on his feet and still moving.

  Hunter set Jim against the wall and said, “You good? I can’t shoot accurately with one arm.”

  Jim gave him a slight nod. “I’m fine. Just got to catch my breath.”

  He turned away from Jim and studied the chaos in front of him. He needed to thin the herd. Taking one of the grenades from his belt, he pulled the pin and hurled it down the alley, forgetting what he’d said a short while ago about not knowing how to use it. Kevin had been right. Just like the movies.

  The gunmen further down the alley dove for cover, but it took their focus off of him and his allies for the moment. He flipped the switch of his gun from auto to three-round-burst and on to single fire. Raising the rifle to his shoulder, he looked down the iron sight and lined up a shot on one of the ninjas. The moment the ninja paused, he shot him in the head. The purple-skinned man caught on and dropped, opening a clear shot to the two other ninjas accosting him. Hunter shot them both. A moment later his grenade went off.

  The gunmen fell back, giving them the small stretch of alley, at least for the moment. Hunter took the opportunity to throw Jim’s arm over his shoulder again. “Jim, I hope you have a plan.”

  “Nope,” Jim replied, adjusting his dirty glasses. “This was all Bert’s stupid idea.”

  “Have you heard from him?” Hunter asked, meeting his gaze.

  “No,” Jim replied. “I say we head toward him. We can’t hold this alley. Hopefully his team fared better than ours. We need to regroup.”

  “Sounds good,” Hunter said, half carrying Jim again. To the remaining members of their strike team, he said, “Mount up, everyone. It’s time for a retreat.”

  ***

  Feeling as though he were in a dream, Bert crawled toward consciousness. The explosio
n had rocked his world. His head swimming, he forced open his eyes to a blurry, fake-looking world. His ears were ringing and for a moment, he couldn’t decide if he was really awake.

  In his mind, Sharp’s voice was louder than the ring. “Get your lazy ass up! They’re coming!”

  “Lazy?” he replied. “I’m pretty sure I just got blowed up.”

  “Aww, poor little guy,” Sharp replied in a bitter tone. Then in a more commanding voice, “Now stop feeling sorry for yourself and get up!”

  Using every bit of his will power, Bert dragged himself to his knees. The dust was still thick but he could see a few of his comrades lying around him. They weren’t moving. In the building beside him a giant hole had formed where the bomb erupted. He’d been wrong. The Brotherhood had known that two of their teams were down, so they’d rigged the alleys leading into the square and hadn’t posted guards, luring their foes into a trap. He’d been a damn a fool. This was his fault. And Sharp was right. There was no doubt a strike team en-route to ensure the job was done.

  Through the dust he could make out the shadowed silhouettes of approaching figures. He forced himself to his feet, realizing he hadn’t sustained any injuries. He was still discombobulated, but called his sword and staff to his hands anyway. He wouldn’t die without a fight. And if he could, he’d take a few of these pricks with him. “Sharp, I need your shield. And let me know if they sneak up behind me.”

  He slammed the sword into the ground in front of him and drew his gun as a shimmering blue shield surrounded him. He summoned his own shield as well and took aim on the closest of the silhouettes. He cocked the hammer back and waited until he was sure it was the Brotherhood before he fired. It was. He killed the first one and a storm of bullets smashed against his shields. He cocked the hammer and shot the next. And the next. Continuing until all six cartridges were spent, and still more charged toward him.

  He didn’t have time to reload, and firing spells at them was pointless. Then a thought occurred to him. They were immune to magic, not gravity. Summoning energy to his will, he levitated a large chunk of debris into the air, floated it toward them, and released it in the path of their charge. Lumber, stone, and metal rained down on the two closest, crumpling them beneath its weight.

  Despite his success, he knew he couldn’t hope to rain a pile on each. They’d be on him before he could. Instead, he used his magic to fling smaller objects, one by one, at his foes. A chunk of cement, a shattered sheet of drywall, an old board covered in rusty nails.

  Their charge faltered, but they wouldn’t be deterred. In reply, a grenade landed between his feet. He attempted to hurl it back like a chunk of debris, but apparently the bastard had cooked it before throwing. The explosion erupted a short distance from him, taking out his shield and knocking him from his feet.

  His head spinning again, he tried to rise and fell back on his ass. Looking up, one of the ninjas was closing in, katana raised and ready to finish the job. There was nothing he could do.

  A blur crossed his vision and shot toward the ninja. Jumping, Gus the dog hit the ninja head on, knocking him to the ground and sinking his teeth in the man’s neck. With one quick jerk, Gus ripped his throat out and charged the next in line.

  Bert scrambled to his feet and nearly fell again as a large man shot past him. It was the big hairy man Gus had pointed out before. Using an old piece of lumber as a weapon, the man dove into the fray, swinging it like a bat. The ninjas tried to move in on him, but with the length of the board they couldn’t close the distance.

  More of his strike force appeared then, shoving past him and charging into the melee. Their previous assignments forgotten, they took the fight to the Brotherhood. Apparently, they hadn’t all died in the blast like he’d first assumed. And apparently, they’d had enough.

  Their attack overwhelmed the Brotherhood, but Bert knew it wouldn’t last. The troopers on the other end of the square just had to open fire and his team would be shredded.

  Well, hell, he thought, scooping up his weapons and charging toward the action himself. He didn’t have a better idea, and at least if he was up front, maybe he could shield a few of them.

  Darting between bodies, he looked for the best place to insert himself. Just ahead, one of his allies was using a stolen assault rifle to bat away sword strikes. Despite the ninja’s clear expertise, the man managed to hold off a few more attacks before Bert closed in and jammed Sharp in the unsuspecting ninja’s throat. The man turned and started firing his assault rifle at the troopers down the street.

  Bert left him to it and searched for a new target. He didn’t have to look far. Another of the ninjas stood nearby, swinging his katana at Gus. Bert rammed Sharp through his back and pushed his body to the ground. The next nearest foe turned his attention on Bert, and Gus took the opportunity to rip out his throat.

  Two ninjas charged toward him, wielding their swords. Normally, he’d let Sharp control the sword fighting, but since their bodies nullified magic energy, that wasn’t an option. He wasn’t an expert swordsman, but under Uncle Tony and Sharp’s tutelage, he wasn’t an amateur either. And they hadn’t trained him to fight pretty. They’d trained him to survive. And while the Brotherhood trained to fight wizards, he doubted they’d prepared for one like him.

  He feinted with his sword, then jumped forward, stabbing out with his staff and jamming the blunt end into the eye of the first attacker. His head snapped back, opening his guard, and Bert slashed sharp across his abdomen.

  The second attacker approached more cautiously, so Bert went on the attack. The ninja may have been a skilled swordsman, but he wasn’t prepared for defending an opponent who wielded both sword and staff. Few mages fought in such a way. And even fewer had Bert’s training. He’d been forced to practice various sword forms, from fencing to Itto-Ryu, to Kendo, to fighting like a swashbuckling pirate, to medieval European technique. And it was the same with his staff. From arts focused on ‘stick’ fighting like Bojutsu, Canne de Combat, Eskrima, to spear arts like Sojutsu. With his staff, he could fight off swordsmen with the prowess of Robin Hood’s Merry Men, or he could attack with the hard accuracy of a Spartan. His training had been a blur of styles, and while he couldn’t say which piece came from which tradition, he could utilize them with deadly efficiency. More importantly, he’d been taught, and spent even more time training, on how to use the two weapons in tandem. In a few short moments, the second ninja joined his comrade in death, his femoral artery severed and spewing blood on the dusty ground.

  Bert took a step back, aware that the melee was thinning. His team was winning and their morale was up, but their prize would be a quick death if they didn’t get into cover. The Brotherhood was still amassed in the square, waiting for the order to open fire. When the last of their comrades fell, Bert and company would be paid back in kind. Bullet kind, he thought, thinking himself rather punny.

  “Gus!” he yelled. “We’ve got to get everyone back in the alley!”

  The dog barked a reply and shot off toward the alley. As he reached the entryway, he turned back to human and scooped up an M4 from the debris. Armed with an assault rifle and naked as the day he was born, Gus started laying down cover fire.

  “That old man is a badass,” Sharp said. “He’s giving ‘Commando’ a new definition.”

  “Yeah, he can handle an assault rifle. I just wish he’d holster his skin pistol.” Despite his joke, Bert couldn’t help but admire Gus. Not many people could hold it together buck-ass-naked in the middle of a warzone.

  Between Bert screaming retreat and Gus relocating, the rest of the team got the hint and began shuffling back toward the alley. The big hairy guy was still surrounded by four Brotherhood members, though, and he couldn’t break free. Bert charged in to assist. Catching one of the Brotherhood unaware, he nearly decapitated the man with Sharp. One down, three to go.

  The others noted his arrival and one turned to face him. The big guy took the opportunity to bash him over the head with his 2x4. It spli
ntered and cracked, but his victim went limp and fell to the ground. Two down.

  The big man bolted for the alley and Bert joined him, running backwards and glaring at the two remaining ninjas while bring up his and Sharp’s shields. They didn’t seem inclined to pursue. Unfortunate for them, because their fellow Brothers deemed them unworthy and opened fire, shredding them to pieces as they tried to pick off Bert and company.

  Bert moved toward Gus and in between gunfire screamed, “Thanks for the save!”

  “I told you I had one left!” Gus replied, grinning madly. “Plenty of piss and vinegar in these old bones!”

  Someone yelled from behind and Bert spun, expecting an attack from the rear. Instead, his heart skipped a beat and he felt moved to the verge of tears. He wiped a hand across his blurry eyes just to be sure. It was them. Hunter and Jim, along with what remained of their team. Like his own group, they were missing several people, and they looked a little banged up, but dammit…They were alive.

  Hunter seemed to be helping Jim along, but when they saw Bert, Jim took his own weight and they both came toward him. Hunter said, “Holy shit, I’m glad to see you!”

  “Me too,” Bert replied, still trying to hold back those menacing tears of joy. “Jim, are you all right?”

  Jim nodded, but his ashen face and the bags under his eyes told a different story. He moved back a few paces and leaned against the wall, closing his eyes. He looked terrible.

  “He had to shield us from the explosion,” Hunter explained. “I think he’s just worn out.”

  “Well,” Bert replied, “I’m not sure we’re in any better shape, but I’m damn glad you guys are here.”

  “When you didn’t reply to Jim,” Hunter said, then cut himself off. “Well, we feared the worst.”

  “Yeah, I got blowed up,” Bert replied, glancing at the bodies around their feet. “I led us into a trap.”