Gun Mage 3: Surviving a Post Apocalyptic Magic Earth

by Logan Jacobs

  “Are there others who agree with you?” I asked.

  “Only in quiet places when Jacob’s ears are not near,” Hamrick sighed. “There may be more than I know, but most will not risk speaking out against Jacob.”

  “Better the devil you know than the one you don’t,” Leah added.

  “It’s a hard thing,” I added. “Turning your back on everything you’ve been taught and everything you’ve believed.”

  “You sound as if you speak from experience,” Leah remarked.

  “I’ve had some,” I admitted as I glanced at Sorcha. “And I suspect, quite a bit more to come.”

  Leah gave the Irish mage and me a speculative look, then returned to the counter where the pot rested. After checking it one more time, she pulled a glass bottle from a cabinet and filled it to the brim with her cure.

  “Give your friend half of this as soon as you return home, and the rest two hours later,” Leah instructed as she handed the bottle to Sorcha. “She’ll probably vomit after the first dosage, but that’s fine. If she vomits after the second dosage, then send word and I’ll prepare another batch.”

  “Thank you, Leah,” Sorcha said gratefully as she accepted the bottle.

  “Go quickly,” Hamrick added. “The faster you can administer the first dosage, the better the chances of survival.”

  We nodded as Hamrick led us back to the front door. Simon and Barnaby both looked up as the three of us appeared, and the man and dog joined us as we made our goodbyes. We stepped back into the chilly air, but I was happy to see that the snow had finally stopped falling. The horses were nearby, under the shelter of a spruce tree, and Barnaby charged toward them with reckless abandon. I saw Ruth bare her teeth as the dog stopped just outside of her reach, and the two bays both whinnied at the canine.

  Once we were mounted, we raced back toward the town as fast as we could manage in the snow covered landscape. As we drew closer to the town, I started to see a few more prints in the snow, both human and horse, and realized that we were no longer the only ones who were out and about.

  Despite the fresh prints, we didn’t encounter another human until we were nearly back to the kennels. Barnaby alerted us first when he suddenly stopped alongside the road and stared into the shadows. Simon pulled up and peered into the darkness as well.

  “Keep going,” I told Sorcha quietly as I stopped next to Simon. “Don’t let anyone stop you from getting that to Freya.”

  The blonde mage nodded, then urged her steed onwards. The horse whinnied as it gathered its feet in the snow, then bounded forward. Shapes seemed to move in the darkness, but nothing leapt out at the fleeing horse or the blonde rider, and Barnaby remained focused on the spot in front of us. When the Irishwoman made the turn around the corner toward the stables, I let out a sigh of relief, then turned toward the house that held the Weimaraner’s attention.

  “You’re out early this morning,” a man’s voice declared from the darkness. “Even for you.”

  “One of the dogs has eaten something,” Simon replied. “I had to go to the farm. Why are you up already, Seth?”

  A middle-aged man finally stepped from the darkness and nodded to Simon. He was taller than I was, with a thatch of mousey brown hair and a beard that struggled to be more than a few wispy hairs on his chin. His blue eyes were so pale that they were barely distinguishable from the white of the eye and gave him an unnerving gaze as he looked at the two of us. Barnaby’s hackles were up, though the dog had yet to utter a sound.

  “Horses were seen leaving the town earlier,” Seth noted. “But no alarm was sounded and no doctor was summoned.”

  “As I said, it’s for the dog,” Simon reiterated.

  The Amish trainer clucked to his horse, but Seth stepped forward and grabbed the reins for Simon’s horse.

  “Hey!” I protested as Seth started to reach for my reins as well. “What do you think you’re doing?”

  “I don’t think it’s a dog that’s sick,” Seth snapped. “I think the dark haired woman has felt the wrath of the Lord, and soon, Michael will come to deliver God’s justice. I don’t know what Leah gave you, but it can’t save the demon.”

  “You’re an ass, Seth,” Simon spat in the most dramatic show of emotion I had ever seen from the man. “Always have been. Now let me tend to my dogs.”

  “They’re not your dogs,” Seth declared. “They belong to all of us. You can be easily replaced.”

  “So can you, Deacon,” Simon growled.

  And then Simon gave an invisible command to Barnaby and our quiet night time ride became a lot more noisy.

  Chapter 12

  Barnaby launched himself at Seth and dug his teeth into the man’s arm. Seth howled as he tried to pull his arm free, but the Weimaraner refused to let go. Ruth was apparently used to the dog’s actions as well as the reaction, and the mare did little more than snort. My bay wheeled around as the horse tried to decide what to do, but after a couple of reassuring pats, the horse steadied.

  “He’ll bring the whole town out,” I snapped as I dropped from the saddle and approached the dog and the Amish man. Seth was cursing up a storm as he tried to swing his arm around and punch the dog at the same time.

  “Shut up, Seth!” Simon hissed.

  “You cretin!” Seth retorted. “I’ll bet you’re really a demon as well. That’s why you get along so well with those damned dogs!”

  Simon had gone red in the face, and he looked like he was about to try to run over Seth with his horse. Only Barnaby’s body was in the way, and the trainer refused to harm the dog. As the two Amish men glared at each other and the threat of more Amish coming to investigate, I did the only thing that came to mind: I stepped up to Seth and punched him in the jaw and followed that with a swift jab to the ear.

  Seth collapsed into the snow, and Barnaby finally let go of his arm. I glanced around and saw lights start to flicker on in a few windows and a curtain twitch at a house across the street. I grabbed a length of rope from my saddle, then handed the reins to Simon.

  “Get back to the house,” I ordered. “I’ll tie him up and tuck him out of sight. You can set him free once we leave.”

  “There’s a woodshed out back,” Simon replied as he pointed toward a narrow passageway. “Keep Barnaby. If you encounter anyone, just say there was a mutant sneaking around.”

  I nodded, then grabbed the unconscious man by his armpits and started to drag him out of sight. I saw Simon use the horses to hide the drag marks in the snow, then continue on toward the house. Fortunately, the woodshed was only a short distance along, and someone had already cleared a path to the door. I opened the door and found that most of the space was taken up with logs, but I thought I could squeeze Seth inside if I curled him into a fetal position.

  I quickly tied his wrists and ankles together, then used his own scarf as a gag. As quietly as I could, I hefted the man into the only empty spot, then stacked a few logs around him just in case someone stopped in before Simon did. Satisfied that Seth wouldn’t be easily found, I slipped back outside and closed the door. There wasn’t much I could do about the tracks, but I tried to cover them up as much as I could, especially the trail of blood from the dog bite.

  It didn’t take that long, though every second felt like an hour. When I reached the end of the passageway, I peered carefully around the edge of the building. Despite the argument that had occurred, the only person I saw was a man in long johns who looked around the street with bleary eyes.

  “Anybody there?” the man called out when he didn’t see anyone right away.

  The man finally shrugged and stepped back inside his house. I waited until I saw the lamp near the door turn off, then risked another look along the road. A man I recognized as one of Jacob’s cronies walked slowly down the street and peered into the shadows. I drew back and pulled Barnaby beside me, then watched as the man stopped near Seth’s old hiding spot.

  “Seth, are you there?” the crony called out.

  When Seth didn�
�t respond, the crony took a few steps closer. He scowled when he realized that Seth was gone and glanced toward the house where I hoped Freya was recovering. The croney seemed to weigh his options, then continued along the street. I gave him time to reach the edge of the town, then peered around the corner again. The street was finally silent, and I crept from my spot with Barnaby beside me. After another check for late-night walkers, I ran as fast as I could in the snow toward Beth and Simon’s house. I almost slipped and landed on my butt as I tried to make the turn into the backyard, but I kept my footing and followed the horse’s trail into the back.

  Both Barnaby and I were wet and cold by the time I managed to get the back door open, and we tumbled into the mudroom with a great deal of clatter. Barnaby shook the snow and ice from his coat, most of which seemed to end up on me, then trotted happily toward the fire that still glowed in the other room. I followed a few minutes later and found everyone else still gathered in the room, though Beth had turned off the lamp to avoid undue attention. Freya was still curled up on the couch, and Darwin sat on the floor next to her, but Sorcha and the Amish pair sat at the table with a stack of cards that no one paid any attention to.

  “How is she?” I demanded as I burst into the room.

  “Still warm, but she’s hanging in there,” Sorcha replied. “We were about to send out a search party for you.”

  “Seth wasn’t the only one of Jacob’s men looking for us,” I replied. “I had to wait for the street to clear before I could make it back. Honestly, I was surprised more people didn’t step outside to investigate the noise.”

  “We didn’t hear anything,” Beth replied. “It may not have been as loud as you thought.”

  “I hope so,” I replied as I remembered the lamps coming on and the curtain that twitched for a moment. Maybe this was like any decent sized town, and most people would do what they could to avoid getting involved.

  “She’s waking up again,” Darwin murmured.

  I saw Freya stir, and then she managed to lift her head and squint at her grandfather.

  “You still here, gramps?” she teased in a hushed voice.

  “Still here,” he assured her. “As are Sorcha and Hex. And our hosts. And even Barnaby, the dog you love.”

  “Ugh,” Freya responded as her head dropped back onto the pillow someone had tucked beneath her. “I hate it when people see me like this.”

  A soft snore a few minutes later was the only sign I had that the mutant had gone back to sleep. I considered trying to grab a short nap as well, but I knew it would be pointless. I wouldn’t be able to fall asleep between my worries for Freya and my gnawing belief that Michael and his supporters would be coming for us sooner rather than later. Everyone looked tense, and Simon finally gave up and took Barnaby back to the kennels and didn’t return.

  No one else moved from their spots until Beth returned to the kitchen, then came back with a mug. Darwin roused Freya, and grandfather and Amish woman managed to get the second dose into the rabbit woman despite her protests about its bad taste. I held my breath, but after a few more complaints, Freya curled up and went back to sleep without vomiting. Beth nodded in approval and carried the empty mug back into the kitchen.

  “At least we won’t have to return to the farm,” I sighed.

  “I just hope she’ll be able to travel soon,” Sorcha replied quietly.

  “It’s a race at this point,” I agreed. “If we have to, we can put her on one of the horses.”

  “I hope you mean have her sit in the saddle and not just flung over the back of the horse like a sack of grain,” the blonde mage teased.

  “Well,” I drawled as I pictured her bunny tail sticking up into the air. “If we get desperate….”

  Sorcha gave me a playful jab, then turned a more serious gaze on the sleeping mutant.

  “When do you think they’ll come?” she asked.

  “Soon,” I predicted. “First light, probably.”

  “Should we get the guns ready?” the Irishwoman suggested.

  “I hate the idea of shooting at the Amish,” I sighed, “but we may not have any choice if they defend Michael.”

  “I have my doubts as to how many will really defend him,” Sorcha replied. “Most of them seemed to be more scared than anything else.”

  “Still, we know Jacob and his followers will,” I mused. “They’ve certainly proven their willingness to kill to keep him and themselves in power.”

  “So, the guns?” Sorcha nudged.

  “Yeah,” I agreed, “I think we’ll need them. I know you’ll be able to sway anyone who’s still sitting on the fence because you’re so absolutely amazing, but that still leaves the angel’s army. Darwin and I, and Freya if she’s up to it, will just have to deal with them while you keep the rest of the townsfolk safe.”

  “I’m absolutely amazing, am I?” Sorcha teased.

  “You are,” I insisted. “In more ways than I can count.”

  “You do know what to say to a girl,” Sorcha snickered. “But I intend to carry a gun as well this time, just in case.”

  “You certainly seem anxious to handle one again, after all your refusals,” I laughed quietly.

  “It was easy enough,” Sorcha admitted, though I saw a blush creep up her cheeks. “I didn’t realize how powerful they were.”

  “There’s nothing quite like it,” I agreed. “But you’re right, we should probably be ready in case they arrive before we leave.”

  Sorcha nodded as we stood up, and while the Irish mage headed for the mudroom, I stepped over to the couch. Darwin glanced up when he heard me approach and gave me a weak smile.

  “Sorcha and I are going to check the guns and make sure we have some ready in case Michael shows up before we can leave,” I whispered.

  “Check them all,” the ex-trooper replied, “but I would go with the handguns for now. We can keep them hidden until we need them, and they’re easier to handle in a crowd.”

  “I’ll bring you the Glock when we’re done,” I replied.

  Darwin nodded, then turned his attention back to his granddaughter. I gave his shoulder what I hoped was a reassuring squeeze, then trudged back to the mudroom. Sorcha had already left, and I could see her fresh boot prints in the snow from the back door to the stable. I sighed, then pulled all of my gear back on as well and headed back out into the snow one more time.

  The blonde mage already had the guns lined up on a table usually reserved for saddles and bridles, along with the bullets she had been able to find. I glanced at the array and saw that we had Darwin’s three originals, the Maverick original, as well as the Winchester I had created to fight the mutants, my nine millimeter that had been reloaded, and the revolver I had made for the ex-trooper.

  Sorcha and I repeated the five rules again, though we both shook our heads at the requirement for ear and eye protection. We hadn’t yet found one of the stores that Darwin had mentioned, and somehow, we never seemed to have the time to come up with our own solutions. Once we made it through the rules, I showed each weapon to the Irishwoman and explained how to clear it, then reload it. Sorcha handled each gun respectfully, though more confidently than she had at the treehouse.

  When we were done, we replaced the rifles and the shotguns and carried the handguns inside. Since neither of our hosts had reappeared, I slipped the original Glock to Darwin, handed my magic version to Sorcha, and kept the Colt revolver for myself, along with a snub nose Smith and Wesson that I had created in the stable.

  Sorcha and I then settled in for a few hands of ‘Uno’, but neither of us paid much attention to the game as we kept a watchful eye on the street outside as well as the figure on the couch. I had just heard the first morning bird calls when I saw Freya stir again, then slowly sit up.

  “How are you?” Darwin demanded as he scrambled to his feet.

  “I’ve been better,” the rabbit woman replied. “But I don’t feel nearly as sick as I did. Whatever you were giving me seems to have worked.”


  “Do you think you could stay on a horse?” I asked as I took in Freya’s pasty skin. Walking the length of the trail back to the road seemed like a definite no go.

  “Maybe some tea and bread first,” Freya suggested. “Just to get my strength up.”

  “Sure,” I said as I thought about kissing her forehead, then pulled back when I remembered Darwin was there. Freya had caught the move, though, and she gave me a smirk.

  “She’s up,” Beth announced as she stepped into the room. “Leah’s potion worked.”

  “It did,” I agreed. “She was hoping for some toast and tea.”

  “I’ll prepare a quick breakfast for everyone,” Beth declared. “You will all need your strength when you leave here.”

  It was tempting to tell her not to bother, but she was probably right. We’d been up all night, and though we’d eaten a ton of food at the dinner, I was feeling drained after a night of running around in the dark. A quick glance at Darwin and Sorcha was all I needed to see that they were feeling worn down as well.

  “Do you need a hand?” Sorcha asked as she moved toward the kitchen.

  The Amish woman and the Irish mage crossed into the kitchen, their heads locked together as they debated what to make. I left Freya with her grandfather and moved over to the window. I pulled a chair closer and sat down in a spot where I could watch the street without any passersby realizing I was there. I had no intention of letting Michael, Jacob or any of their soldiers sneak up on me again, and I was feeling just surly enough to take them all on if I had to.

  I heard Simon return, and soon after Sorcha and Beth handed around bowls of oatmeal with raisins, slices of toast, and cups of hot coffee. We gobbled down the food and slurped down the coffee, all while we kept one eye on the street. We finished our meal in minutes, and all I could remember about it was that the coffee was strong enough to knock my socks off. Freya declared that she was feeling well enough to stay on the horse, so after hurried bathroom breaks and quick goodbyes with our hosts, the four of us retreated to the stables to watch Freya climb slowly onto one of the saddles.