Gun Mage 3: Surviving a Post Apocalyptic Magic Earth

by Logan Jacobs

  I peered cautiously around the door, but the town had become still once again. Without any lights, it was hard to see much more than the outlines of the buildings, though I picked out pools of black that were more than mere shadows.

  “Coming out!” I yelled as I opened the door wide enough for us to exit.

  “Got ya!” the archer across the street yelled back. “They’re coming out!”

  That call echoed down the street ahead of us as we slowly made our way back to the inn. Sorcha walked next to me, though I had to support her as we made our way along the road, and at several points, I simply lifted her over a pile of black ooze. By the time we arrived back at the inn’s door, Harry already had the door open and welcomed us both inside with a grin. He quickly slammed the door shut and locked it once we were inside, but the cook had appeared from the kitchen by then, and she took Sorcha from my arms and guided her carefully to a seat by the fire.

  “What do you think?” Harry asked quietly, but with a note of excitement.

  “Sorcha didn’t sense anything else, but that doesn’t mean there aren’t more out there somewhere,” I replied. “They may just be too far away for her to pick up on their presences.”

  “Still, if there are more out there, maybe they’ll stay away now that we’ve shown we can kill them,” Harry said hopefully.

  “You could be right,” I agreed. “Let’s get through tonight, first, and then we can see where things stand in the morning.”

  No one slept that night, at least not at the inn. Sorcha stayed by the fire, though I saw her eyes close and her head dip a few times. When I tried to encourage her to head upstairs, though, she always refused, just in case more of the creatures appeared. I wasn’t sure how much more the Irishwoman could do if another army of the things did show up, but I could understand how she felt. My own limbs felt heavy once the adrenaline started to wear off, and there were moments when I felt my eyelids start to droop.

  Thankfully, the cook, for all her anger, remained alert and awake in the kitchen, armed with an array of pristine knives and an old crossbow that had seen better days. Harry and two of the other guests also kept a sharp eye out as they patrolled the inn with swords and crossbows, while the rest of the guests watched the streets from their assigned spots.

  I stayed with Sorcha with the Garand M1 by my side. The cook brought us tea and a slice of cake covered in berries and confectioner’s sugar, but I’m not sure either of us really tasted it. I waited impatiently for the first signs of dawn and nearly shouted for joy when I saw the first slivers of sunlight filter in through the boards over the window.

  “We made it,” I whispered to Sorcha as I stood up.

  “We did,” she agreed with a grin as she glanced toward the window and saw the yellow light that had found its way inside.

  “It’s morning,” the cook declared as she appeared from the kitchen and stomped across the dining room.

  The cook unlocked the door, then flung it open before I could get there. I had wanted to check the street first, just to be sure, but no tar creatures leapt through the opening to attack the woman, and I could hear the first round of cheers that started to filter along the road.

  I followed the cook into the road, and we were soon joined by the rest of the townspeople. I saw the kids spring from the town hall cellar and run toward any adults they recognized. A few moments later, I saw Darwin and Freya walk toward me, their guns openly displayed. I grinned and waved at the pair, and Freya, at least, grinned and waved back.

  “Where’s Sorcha?” Freya asked as she looked around at the people that had started to gather.

  “She’s exhausted,” I explained. “She’s inside, enjoying some cake and tea.”

  “I like the sound of cake and tea,” Darwin admitted. “Well, maybe cake and coffee.”

  Bester had found us by then, and he jogged over with the M1 in his hands.

  “That was grand!” Bester declared. “I think we killed them all!”

  “Well, all of the ones that showed up last night,” Darwin added.

  “True,” Bester agreed, “but now that we know how to kill them, we’ll be better prepared if any more show up.”

  “I’d say you had this well in hand,” I added.

  “I’d say today’s a day to celebrate!” Bester declared.

  I glanced at Freya and Darwin and then at the sky. The sun was up and shining brightly, but dark clouds loomed nearby, and I could smell snow in the air. Not to mention the mages who were right behind us. We’d already spent far too long in this town, and I half expected a red robed mage to appear at the palisades and demand entry.

  “We should keep moving,” I suggested. “See how far we get before we have to call it quits.”

  “I agree,” Darwin said.

  “But you must stay just a little longer,” Bester begged. “At least let everyone thank you.”

  “This is your celebration,” Freya said. “Enjoy it.”

  Before Bester could protest further, we slipped back to the inn. Bester looked as if he would follow us and argue his point, but he was swept away by a group of happy townsfolk who converged on the town hall.

  “Should be easy enough to slip away,” Darwin noted as we stepped inside.

  The only person still in the dining room was Sorcha. She smiled at the three of us and then waved us over to the table.

  We sat down and took a moment to catch our breath after the long night of keeping vigil.

  “I guess breakfast is out of the question,” Freya remarked.

  “The cook was the first one through the doors,” I sighed. “I think we’re on our own.”

  “Well, she still has my turkey, and I’m not leaving it here,” Darwin declared.

  “Let’s split duties,” I suggested. “Darwin, grab the turkey and something we can eat on the road for breakfast. I’ll go get the horses ready, and Freya can grab our stuff from the rooms. We can be out of here before anyone else remembers to come looking for us.”

  “I’ll help Freya,” Sorcha said as we stood up.

  “You can rest a few more minutes,” I offered.

  “I’m fine,” she replied. “I just need to get moving again, get some blood flowing.”

  We split up, then, as Darwin marched into the kitchen, and the women ran quickly up the steps. I peered around the door, then darted toward the stable while those still in the streets were busy congratulating each other. I found both horses awake and alert, and more than ready for breakfast.

  “Sorry, guys, but it’s a bit of a dash this morning,” I said as I grabbed the saddles and halters. “We’ll all be eating on the road.”

  That statement earned me a nip from the bay with the blaze, and I was about to call him a few ungentlemanly names when I spotted a wood bucket hanging from a nail with the distinctive leaves of a carrot poking out of the top. I set the harness down and stepped to the bucket and discovered it was packed with the treats. I grabbed a handful and returned to the stalls, where my peace offering was gladly accepted.

  I had the horses ready to go when I heard Sorcha and Freya step into the barn. The two women had all our gear slung over their shoulders, and they happily passed it all to me to add to the saddles.

  “Darwin may be a few minutes,” Sorcha added as she watched me distribute the bags. “We heard him talking to the cook.”

  “I can’t imagine she wants us to stay,” I mused.

  “Sounded like they were discussing the turkey again,” Freya said with a smirk.

  “We should just leave the turkey,” Sorcha suggested. “Our contribution to the party that’s about to take place.”

  “Never!” Darwin declared as he stepped into the stables behind them. “And I have the turkey, as well as some advice from the cook.”

  “Advice about what?” I asked as I caught a whiff of the turkey and heard my stomach grumble in response.

  “About where we should go next,” Darwin explained.

  “We’re going to Scranton-Barre by
way of Pontius,” I pointed out.

  “Ah, but Pontius has a mage who likes to chat up visitors to see if there’s anything he can fine them for, and a tax on everything and anything,” Darwin said sagely. “Room tax, food tax, even if you just walk into a saloon to watch a show, there’s a tax.”

  “The other travelers didn’t mention that,” Sorcha noted.

  “Well, if you visit often enough, there’s an unofficial waiver,” Darwin replied. “And if our friends go through there often enough, they probably don’t have to pay any of the taxes any more.”

  “And the cook’s suggestion?” Freya asked.

  “A town about halfway to Scranton-Barre,” Darwin replied. “It’s in a valley that most people don’t know about, but the cook provided me with a map that I think we’ll be able to use. She said they trade with this other town sometimes, despite the fact that they still follow one of the old religions.”

  “One of the old religions?” I repeated in surprise.

  “Based on what she said and the part of the country we’re in, I’d say either Amish or Mennonite,” Darwin explained.

  “Oh, I’m not sure I want to deal with those weird religious people,” Freya replied with a shake of her head. “I heard they were even crueler than the Magesterium.”

  “Well, if they are Amish or Mennonite, and they really do follow the old ways, I think we’ll be okay,” Darwin mused. “Those were nonviolent sects that turned their backs on technology. They still used horses and buggies while everyone else was using cars.”

  “I don’t know,” Sorcha added as she looked at me.

  “This town is on a more direct line to Scranton,” Darwin added, “and the cook suggested these folks could get us there faster than if we stuck to the road and went through Pontius.”

  “Did the cook tell you anything else?” I laughed as I tried to imagine Darwin and the taciturn cook locked in an intense discussion.

  “Just that this group believes in helping people in need,” Darwin said with a shrug. “Oh, and they believe the town has a guardian angel.”

  “A guardian what?” Freya asked.

  “Angel,” Sorcha supplied. “They were messengers for the gods.”

  “Oy,” Darwin sighed as he shook his head. “Sure, yeah, messenger for the gods. In any case, they believe a divine being is protecting the town.”

  “Good to know we’re dealing with totally rational folks,” I said with a laugh.

  All three of my companions, as well as the two horses, looked at me. I shrugged, then thought about what Darwin had said. Pontius was tempting, since we knew we could resupply there as well as find a room for the night. But it also had a nosy mage and would probably cost us most of the money we had left. This other town sounded like it was far enough away from the major roads that we wouldn’t have to worry about other mages, and we might at least find someplace dry for the night, though it may not have all of the amenities as a room in Pontius.

  “So what’s the name of this Amish town?” I asked.

  “Pastor,” Darwin supplied.

  I glanced at the two horses for a moment, then turned back to my companions.

  “My vote’s for Pastor,” I finally declared.

  “It’s just for the night,” Darwin added when Freya frowned and twitched her nose.

  “That’s what we said about this place,” Sorcha pointed out.

  “I think we’d be safer staying away from most mage towns,” I sighed. “And Darwin said they don’t believe in violence.”

  “And we’ll get to Scranton faster,” Darwin added. “Maybe get a chance to see this train before the mages hear about it and shut it down.”

  “Alright,” Sorcha agreed. “But if any strange things appear in the middle of the night, you two can fight it off.”

  “I’ll agree to that,” I chuckled.

  With the horses reloaded and the turkey reclaimed, and even some coffee and sandwiches added to the mix, we were finally ready to continue our journey. We stepped out from the stables to find that the impromptu celebration had started to turn into a more organized affair, with streamers draped across balcony railings and a long table dragged out in front of the town hall. A few people spotted us as we made our way toward the edge of town, and we were encouraged to stay a while longer each time, but we politely declined the offers amidst promises to return to check on the town.

  The road west still had a light dusting of snow despite the sun and the warmer air. I was happy to see that, since it meant we wouldn’t have to hike through mud as we walked along the road. It also meant we didn’t have to worry as much about ice underfoot, at least for today. I smiled as I ate one of the scrambled egg and bacon sandwiches the cook had prepared for us, and soaked in the clean air and warm rays, and decided that today was off to a good start after all.

  Once we finished our breakfast, Darwin produced the map the cook had sketched. A quick review revealed that we would need to leave the old highway just ahead near something marked as an ‘interchange.’ At the interchange, we would need to find the old Delaware trail, which the cook had helpfully noted would be marked by a ‘pole with an ugly face’.

  “A pole with an ugly face,” Freya mused as she read the note. “Is that supposed to be the god they worship?”

  “I doubt it,” Darwin mused. “The way she described it, it might go back all the way to the original tribes that lived here. If that’s true, it might be more of a warning marker.”

  “Original tribes?” Sorcha asked.

  “The Europeans are newcomers to the Americas,” Darwin explained. “All this land used to be divided between various indigenous tribes. Around here, that would have been tribes like the Delaware and the Shawnee. During the 1700s, any native who didn’t adapt and live like a European was sent west, mostly to reservations in Oklahoma.”

  “Like the Magesterium does with mutants,” Freya sniffed.

  “I wouldn’t be surprised if that’s where they got the idea from,” Darwin replied. “In any case, even though most of the tribe members were sent west, there are still signs of their time here, if you know where to look.”

  “And you think the post with the ugly face is one of those?” I asked.

  “If the trail is really one of the old Delaware tribe’s, then, yeah, I think so,” Darwin mused.

  “So what happened to the tribes?” Sorcha asked. “After they were sent to… Oklahoma.”

  “Nothing good,” Darwin sighed. “They were different from Europeans, not just physically but culturally as well. So Europeans viewed them as inferior, and many even saw them as little better than animals. Killing an Indian was considered a good thing.”

  “Are there any left?” Freya asked.

  “Well, there were before the meteorite hit,” Darwin stated. “I would figure there still are.”

  “Maybe we’ll find them as we head west,” I said. “We could make it a quest of sorts, to try to find the lost tribes.”

  “I’d like that,” Freya replied. “I’d bet we have a lot in common.”

  “You probably would,” Darwin agreed with a note of surprise.

  It was evident he hadn’t considered that before, but now that Freya had suggested the idea, I could see him turn it over, and I wondered if he might consider traveling beyond Detroit with us, at least until we found Oklahoma and some of the old tribes.

  As we’d talked about the tribes, the road had steadily widened, and we found ourselves at a large crossroads. Several pre-magic roads converged on the point, and a forest of concrete pylons were evidence that even more highways had once merged here as well. A few of the old green signs still littered the ground, but newer signs had been placed on wood poles alongside the road.

  “Look at all those cars,” Freya murmured as she took in the collection of cars that laid scattered around the crossroads. “Where were they going? And why did they just leave them here?”

  “The ramps got clogged up in the first few hours,” Darwin replied. “A lot of peop
le gave up and abandoned their cars, tried to get where they were going on foot.”

  “I’m surprised no one’s cleared them away after all this time,” I commented as I looked around. “All these roads look pretty busy.”

  “They probably cleared enough to keep traffic flowing,” Darwin noted. “The rest they just left.”

  “I like this one,” Freya announced as she sauntered over to inspect one of the cars. “It’s big enough that I could fit everything in it, and it even has room for my ears.”

  The car she approached looked like a box on wheels, and not nearly as exciting as the one in the museum. She wiped some of the dirt and dust from the surface to reveal a bright green color unlike anything I had seen before.

  “It’s a... Niss-ann,” she announced as she looked through the window.

  “Knee-san,” Darwin corrected. “And they don’t hold as much as you think. Now, if you really wanted to travel in style and take all your stuff with you, you’d have to get something like an Elemment Palazzo Superior. Forty-five feet long, with a full bath, a king-sized bed, a kitchen, and even a wine closet.”

  “Geez, people really travelled like that?” I asked in wonder.

  “Well, if you had three million dollars to spend on an RV you did,” Darwin replied. “The rest of us mere mortals had to make do with Nissan Cubes and Ford trucks.”

  “I kind of like the idea of having a wine closet,” Sorcha mused.

  “And a king sized bed,” Freya added as she rejoined us. “That must be huge.”

  “It is,” Darwin assured her.

  “Unfortunately, I don’t see any Palazzo... whatever it was,” I pointed out. “So, we should probably find this pole with the ugly face.”

  We split up and wandered around the interchange until Darwin whistled.

  “I think I’ve got it,” he yelled.

  We rejoined the ex-trooper, who had moved off the concrete and into some trees where a dirt trail had been carved from the encroaching forest. Sure enough, a chest high pole had been set into the ground, and a wide-eyed face with its tongue sticking out had been carved into the wood.

  “It is ugly,” Freya commented as she looked at the pole.