Gun Mage: Surviving a Post Apocalyptic Magic Earth

by Logan Jacobs

  I was almost on her when someone slammed into me from behind. We rolled across the road until we were inches from the portal. The portal mage yelped and the portal started to wink out.

  “Hold that open!” the white haired woman ordered. “I’ll have your head if you let that close!”

  I was close enough to see the portal mage’s lower lip quiver, but she refocused on the circle and the picture soon steadied. I punched at the body that had me pinned to the ground and heard a chuff as the mage lost his breath. He retaliated by punching me in the side, and I tried to roll onto my back just to knock him off.

  The mage held me in a tight grip, but I finally broke free by jabbing the knife into his hand. As he tried to pull his hand away, I rolled with his momentum, and sent him into the knees of the portal mage. She grimaced but managed to stay focused. I lunged toward my attacker, a youngish man with a close shaven head except for a line of long red hair down the middle of his head. He scrambled backward, but I managed to grab one of his legs.

  We tumbled across the roadway together, but then everything shifted. Instead of cracked concrete and black tar, we were on dirt. Gone was the steady wind and the vibration of the cables. Instead, we were surrounded by buildings and people on the sidewalks who had stopped to stare at the open portal.

  A burst of wind nearly blew me across the street, and I knew now who the wind mage was. I managed to hang onto a post, while the rest of the people scattered to find shelter. I looked toward the portal, convinced that the rest of the mages would step through, and then the doorway to the bridge would close for good. But they must have decided they really wanted Sorcha as well, because only one other mage stepped through while two others started toward Sorcha.

  “Damn it,” I cursed.

  I glanced at the sky and tried to gauge how much time had passed since I had used the twenty-two rifle. It had to be close to the twenty-four-hour mark, so I gritted my teeth against the dirt and grit that pummeled me and pictured the smooth stock and long barrel of the rifle one more time. My fingers tingled, and finally, I was rewarded with the touch of metal. I laughed with uncontrolled joy as I felt its weight in my hand, and I crawled around the side of a building so I could open my eyes fully and drink in the sight of the twenty-two.

  The black barrel glinted in the sun, and the wood stock was smooth and warm in my grasp. I could feel the rifle just beg me to fire it, and I gave it a reassuring pat as I crept toward the edge of the building.

  The wind had died down and the two mages stood near the portal. The wind mage with the red hair was about to send another whirlwind my way, but his partner, an older man with greasy brown hair and thin lips, looked uncertain.

  “He has a gun,” the older man warned.

  “Then why hasn’t he used it?” the red-headed mage demanded.

  “I think he just created it,” the older man said as he peered back through the portal.

  The wind mage shrugged and another gust of wind barreled along the street. I crouched low and picked out my target. I kept my hand steady, despite the storm force winds that rocked everything in their path. The wind mage started to lift his arms, and the winds began to coalesce and swirl together, forming a funnel cloud that hung in the middle of the street. As it started toward my hiding spot, I aimed a shot at the mage’s head.

  I heard the familiar crack of the rifle as it rumbled around the street, a distinctive clap that could be heard even over the howling of the winds. The wind mage had no time to react to the sound. He wilted as he sank slowly to the ground with a neat hole between his eyes. Gray brain matter oozed from the wound, and the glint of white bone stood out among the red of his blood.

  The wind vanished before the mage’s body fell to the road, and an eerie silence fell over the street. The second mage shrieked in alarm as he took in the damage to his friend’s skull and the bits of splattered brains. He lunged back through the portal and I could see him wave his hands frantically on the other side.

  I had no idea if the bullet could travel through the portal and still hit its target, but the red robes weren’t willing to take that chance. The portal started to fade, and I ran toward it as fast as I could and managed to make it just in time. I lunged through the portal just as it started to wink out. I landed on my stomach, on the hard concrete, and looked up at the surviving mages.

  I had landed near the feet of the portal mage, who stared at me in abject terror. The other two, the frantic man and the white haired woman, were just a few feet to my left. I swept the gun over all three of them as a warning and saw the white haired woman jump back in alarm.

  As I started to stand up, I reached toward the snub nose that still laid at the feet of the portal mage. The portal mage yelped in surprise and her tiny feet made a pitter-patter sound as she sprinted back toward Brook Island.

  “Coward!” the white haired mage called after her.

  The greasy-haired mage looked frantic, and he stepped behind the white haired woman as I pointed the rifle at the last two mages. The woman tried to retain her imperious aura, but I saw her tremble when the rifle moved in her direction. Her hands fluttered, but if she was trying to use her magic, nothing happened.

  I would have gladly put a bullet between the eyes of the white haired mage right then, and with just a few feet between us, I wouldn’t have missed. But I caught the familiar sound and smell of a fireball attack at that moment. When I glanced toward the commotion, all I saw was a plume of smoke and a pair of red robed mages.

  There was no sign of Sorcha.

  I pointed the rifle at the white haired mage one more time, and when she looked like she would faint, I turned and bolted toward the other battle. As I got closer, I could see that it was only one of the mages who was launching fire balls, while his companion stood nearby. I still couldn’t see Sorcha, but since the fireballs were all directed at one of the massive posts, I figured she had ducked behind it when the mages had started to attack.

  I took out the fire mage first. He had just launched an attack when I pointed the long barrel of the rifle toward his spine. The rifle boomed in the high, open space of the bridge, and the sound carried out over the water. The fire mage jerked forward as blood started to ooze down his back. He reached behind his back for a moment, then fell to his knees on the hard concrete.

  The second mage stared at his companion, then slowly swung toward me. He froze for a moment as he took in the rifle, and then he started to lift his hand. I pointed the twenty-two rifle and pulled the trigger in one swift motion, a remarkably easy feat with the trusty weapon. The rifle cracked again as the bullet found its mark, and the mage looked down at his stomach where a red stain was rapidly spreading across his torso. He teetered for a moment and then flopped to the ground.

  Sorcha risked a glance from behind the post and took in the two mages crumpled nearby. She waved to me, then moved to the center of the road again. I saw her fumble for the chain around her neck, and then she went still as she concentrated once more on the spell.

  I started toward the beautiful mage, but the sound of footsteps behind me drew my attention. I whirled around, the rifle raised to my shoulder. The white haired mage was behind me, and she’d finally gathered herself enough to summon her magic. A small lizard-like creature sat on her shoulder, but it had wings and sharp teeth, and hissed at me as the woman stopped.

  “Kill him,” she commanded as the lizard flew into the air.

  I was tempted to laugh, but I knew better than to doubt the powers of a mage, especially those sent by the Magesterium. The lizard started to grow, and by the time its feet touched down on the bridge, it was at least ten feet tall, and that didn’t include the tail which swished behind it. It let out a roar and displayed a row of very large and very sharp teeth.

  I had no idea if the creature was solid or simply an image created by the mage, but I had no desire to be bitten any more, especially by something that looked like it considered me to be a tasty treat, so I aimed the twenty-two rifle toward the
reptile and fired.

  The creature reared back as I pulled the trigger, and the bullet hit somewhere in its torso. For a moment, I thought it hadn’t caused any damage, but then I saw the small trickle of black liquid and the reptile hissed as it eyed the hole.

  I set up my next shot, one that would hit between the eyes, but the lizard took to the air. The beat of its wings tossed around small chunks of concrete and tar, and I had to cover my eyes until the thing moved higher into the air.

  And that, I realized, was the mage’s mistake. With the lizard in the air, that left the mage wide open. As she watched her creation start to dive toward me, I shifted the rifle and pointed it at her head and fired even as the beast’s shadow closed over me. The white haired mage never even reacted. She toppled over, stiff as a board as she landed on the road on her back. Most of her nose was gone as a pool of blood spilled quickly beneath her.

  But I didn’t have time to take in any more. The lizard passed over me, and I felt the intense heat of the lizard’s breath as it roared. I ducked as the jaws snapped shut inches from my head, and black blood splashed onto me. And then the lizard sailed past me and out over the river. I didn’t know for sure, but I guessed whatever power the mage had over the flying lizard was broken, and now it was free to do its own thing.

  I was covered in black ooze and feeling more than a little cooked as I slowly climbed to my feet. There was only one mage left by my count, and that was the greasy-haired fellow who hadn’t done a single bit of magic yet. He gulped and held up his hands as if he were the one about to be arrested, so I pointed the rifle in his direction, but I didn’t pull the trigger.

  That was all the signal he needed. He started to run back toward Brook Island, though his feet somehow got tangled up in the hem of his robe. He fell down, face first, onto the road near the white haired mage. He screamed when he saw what remained of her face, then pulled himself up to his feet and took off.

  “Hex!” Sorcha called from somewhere behind me.

  I turned around and spotted the golden haired mage. She had opened the portal at last, though it was barely wide enough for one person to step through. I could see the look of concentration on her face and knew how much it must cost her just to keep this small doorway open.

  I ran to her side and gave her a grin that was meant to reassure her. She smiled, but only for a brief moment.

  “Go first,” she said. “In case I can’t hold it.”

  “Give me your hand,” I replied. “I can pull you through if it starts to close.”

  Sorcha nodded, then held out one hand as she turned toward the portal again. I finally looked at the image myself and saw the edge of a forest, that gave way to a sloping green field. Just below were the outermost buildings of the town we could see on the other side of the river.

  I took a deep breath, then stepped into the image. I could feel the edges of the portal this time, like a thousand little needles brushed against my skin, and I breathed a sigh of relief when I landed on a layer of pine straw and smelled the familiar scents of fir and pine and cold, clean air. I looked back and saw that the portal had started to narrow. It would close completely in a matter of moments, but Sorcha hesitated, as if she wasn’t sure she would make it through.

  I pulled her through with only a second to spare. The portal winked out, and we were alone in the forest, without a single red robe to be seen. We stood stock still for a moment and soaked in the utter quiet.

  “I think I was expecting someone to leap out at us,” Sorcha admitted a few minutes later.

  “I think I was, too,” I agreed with a chuckle. “Or maybe some kind of mage-controlled forest creature at least.”

  Sorcha nodded and then walked to the edge of the grassy field. We could see people heading toward the river, obviously excited by something.

  “That flying lizard,” I guessed.

  “It’s a dragon,” she said. “There are myths about them going back centuries, but it wasn’t until we had magic that they became real.”

  “Like they came with the meteorite?” I asked.

  “No, not exactly,” she mused. “Mages created them, but only a few know how to do it.”

  “So what other kinds of mythical beasts have the mages been able to create?” I asked as we watched the crowd by the river start to point toward the city.

  “I’m not sure,” she sighed. “I only know about the dragons because I saw one once when I was a little girl. A traveling wizard came to our village and had one on a leash. He never let his get that big, but he did threaten to let it eat all of Mr. Pete’s sheep after a game of darts at the pub.”

  We watched a moment longer, and then I tucked the rifle under my long coat. It wasn’t perfect, but it was out of sight for the moment. With the gun hidden, I stepped into the field and took a deep breath.

  “We should probably get this trek of ours underway,” I mused. “I don’t think the Magesterium is just going to do nothing for the next few days.”

  “No,” Sorcha agreed, “though that dragon you freed will probably keep them busy for a while.”

  We both laughed, though I know she had to be in as much pain as I was. The first order of business, I decided, was to find a decent healer.

  “So,” I prodded as we reached the edge of the green, “how long will it take to get to this island of yours? One month? Two months?”

  Sorcha gave me an odd look, the one she used when she couldn’t decide if I was teasing or not.

  “If we don’t find a portal mage who can help with at least part of the trip,” she stated, “about eight months.”

  “E-eight…” I stammered.

  “You really had no idea?” she asked.

  I shook my head as I tried to imagine eight months of hard travel with just the beautiful mage by my side.

  “I never thought about it,” I admitted. “And it’s not like anyone spends much time talking about heading west. They say it took an even bigger hit than we did here.”

  “I don’t know about that,” Sorcha replied. “I’d say both coasts took a beating.”

  “They also say the interior is full of monsters and desperados,” I gulped.

  “They do say that,” she exhaled.

  “Have you made this trip before?” I asked. “I mean, without a portal mage.”

  “Never,” she sighed. “But what choice do we have?”

  I nodded, then stopped to look at the town we were about to step into. I spotted a sign for a healer, and another one for a doctor just past that. We had to look terrible and were bound to attract attention, but then again, the town had just seen a dragon fly by so maybe we wouldn’t be that memorable after all.

  “Are you having second thoughts?” Sorcha asked nervously.

  “Are you kidding me?” I laughed. “Do you know what an adventure this is going to be? I wouldn’t trade it for the world.”

  Sorcha smiled for a moment, then glanced anxiously toward the bridge tower that loomed in the distance.

  “We’ve only bought ourselves a little time,” she sighed. “It won’t take them long to figure out where we’ve gone, and they have plenty of portal mages at their disposal.”

  “Then we visit the healer first,” I declared, “and then, we head to Motown to find Charles Darwin and his gun collection. I intend to be ready for whatever the Magesterium throws our way, and that means that I need to get a lot more guns.”

  End of book 1

  End notes

  Thanks for reading Gun Mage! I’ll start writing book 2 when this book gets 100 reviews, so please leave a review right here. Thank you!

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  This is a work of fiction. Names, characters, businesses, places, events and incidents are either the products of the author’s imagination or used in a fictitious manner. Any resemblance to actual persons, living or dead, or actual events is purely coincidental.

  Copyright © 2019 by Logan Jacobs