by Logan Jacobs
“Yeah,” I said. “I could only fire the one I made twice and then it disappeared.”
Darwin admired the Maverick for a few more moments, then carefully placed it on the table. I started to pick it up, then remembered to check for bullets. I went through the same routine I had just seen the ex-trooper perform, and he nodded in approval.
“That Maverick is about as basic as they come,” Darwin noted, “but in a pinch, they’ll do the job. Now to load your shells, make sure you’ve got the safety on, then just press that button again, and slide a round into each chamber. Make sure the plastic end is the one heading down the barrel, and the metal end is the one facing the end of the stock.”
I did as he instructed, then clicked the barrel into place.
“Good,” Darwin declared. “Now unload it like you would during a check.”
I reversed the procedure, so that I had two shells in my hand when I was done. I returned them to the box and smiled at Darwin. The ex-trooper looked slightly more pleased with my gun-handling skills, though I still hadn’t earned a smile or even a nod of approval yet.
“Where’s that snub nose you’ve been walking around with?” the ex-trooper asked.
I pulled the gun from my jacket and handed it to Darwin. He started to examine the gun, then shook his head, and I knew I had somehow just ruined whatever good feelings he had about me.
“Cripes,” he muttered. “I just thought you left the safety off at the house to show that you were ready to shoot. Are you saying you’ve been carrying this thing around like this, and all the other guns, loaded and without checking the safety?”
“Yes?” I guessed.
“This is how people shoot themselves,” Darwin muttered. “Okay, this little switch here is the safety, and each of the guns I showed you have some version of it. Its main purpose is to prevent people from shooting the gun accidentally. Now, when you’re really ready to fire, you just slide it back, and now you can fire the gun.”
“I don’t think there’s one on the Colt,” I said as I studied the tiny switch on the snub nose.
“There may not be one if it’s an old-timer,” he explained. “And by that I mean way older than me. They only have them on later guns. If you think about it, it’s a miracle more people didn’t shoot themselves in the foot back in the day.”
“Let me use my magic to summon a gun.” I set the safety on the snub nose, then tucked it back into my jacket. I was determined to prove that I could safely handle a gun, and I decided that I would do it with a gun of my own creation. I held my hand out for several moments as I tried to settle on which one I wanted to hold, but it was hard to pick just one.
“Go for the Winchester rifle,” Darwin suggested as he watched me grapple with the question. “I’m curious to see if it will have the scope or not.”
“Fair enough,” I agreed as I pictured the sleek beauty, complete with scope.
I felt the tingle in my fingertips, and then the striated surface of the Winchester. When I looked down, the slender weapon was there, though my version had the faint blue light that seemed to be the mark of my magic. It also had the scope, though mine looked less worn than the original.
“Ohhhh, it even has the scope,” Darwin gasped as I held up the Winchester.
“Yeah,” I said. “I didn’t realize it would bring that too, but I thought about it when I used my magic.”
It was a little heavier than the original because of the bullets, but otherwise it felt the same. I peered through the scope at a pair of squirrels that sat on a distant branch and noted how well the cheek rest seemed to fit my face. The silver barrel glinted in the traces of sunlight that managed to make it through the clouds, and I felt a moment of pure satisfaction as I melded with the rifle.
“May I?” Darwin asked in a reverent tone.
I hated to turn it over so soon, but Darwin was the reason I even had access to such an amazing weapon, so I held it out toward the older man.
The ex-trooper took it with both hands and weighed it for a moment, checked to see it was loaded, and then checked the safety. He lifted a small, angled handle, then returned it to its position. He moved the safety backward then, and there was a click as he moved it into place. Satisfied, he brought the rifle up to his shoulder for a look along its sight.
“Nice that it comes with ammunition,” he remarked. “Could have used that in the old days.”
“On the down side, it disappears after I use the last bullet, and I can’t create another one for a full day,” I sighed.
“But you can create other guns during that time?” Darwin asked.
“Yep, until they run out of ammo,” I replied.
“Strange,” Darwin mused. “But then I never understood the whole magic thing.”
“I don’t understand much myself,” I admitted. “That’s what’s been nice about having Sorcha along. She’s been able to explain some of this. And when Evan said you knew a lot about guns, I really had it in my head that I wanted to meet you, and maybe learn something about them.”
Darwin didn’t respond to that. Instead, he lowered the weapon, checked the safety again, then pointed to the angled lever on the side of the gun. When I nodded, he lifted the lever away from the gun and pulled it back toward the stock.
“This is the bolt,” he said as he showed me the metal tube. “And this is the magazine. As you can see, that’s where the bullets are. If this were a normal gun, you’d reload it by pushing the bullets into the magazine.”
“Oh,” I commented as I peered inside the Winchester.
“Normally, you wouldn’t store guns with bullets in them,” he continued as he pulled one of the bullets out and examined it. “If you went hunting, for example, you’d remove any bullets you didn’t fire. Of course, a lot of people kept a loaded weapon in the house, the theory being that you wouldn’t have time to load the gun if someone breaks in during the middle of the night.”
“But you don’t like that,” I guessed by the somber tone of his voice.
“Most people aren’t well-trained with a gun,” he replied. “And there are a lot of other people in the house usually than just the one who bought the gun. I saw a lot of cases of what goes wrong when there’s a loaded weapon just lying around. Truthfully, I’m rather amazed that you haven’t managed to shoot yourself yet.”
“I’ve been careful,” I said defensively. “And I only pull the weapon when I have to.”
“What would happen if we removed all the bullets? Would the gun remain because you hadn’t fired the bullets, or would it disappear because the bullets were gone, period?”
“I don’t know,” I said.
“We could find out,” Darwin suggested.
“Not with the Winchester,” I said quickly. “But there’s only one bullet left in the snub nose. We could take that out.”
Darwin held out his hand and I pulled the Smith and Wesson snub nose out from the pocket of my coat. I begged its forgiveness for the sacrifice it was about to make, then handed the gun to Darwin.
“Okay, put your thumb on the hammer and your index finger on the side of the cylinder,” he said as he demonstrated. “Now with your other hand, put your thumb on the cylinder release and your index finger on the cylinder. Since this is a Smith & Wesson double action revolver, you’ll move this button, which is the cylinder release, forward. Now you can just roll the cylinder out of the frame. Make sure you keep your index finger on the cylinder so it doesn’t roll back inside. Good so far?”
“Good so far,” I agreed.
“This little stem is the ejector release,” Darwin continued. “To clear this weapon, we press that down and tilt the gun back, and anything still in the chambers will fall out.”
“Okay,” I replied as I tried to hide the anxiety I felt.
“Now we can just slide that bullet out,” Darwin said as he tilted the snub nose.
The bullet slipped from the chamber and fell into his hand, and for a moment, it looked as if the gun and bullet would r
emain. But then the snub nose started to shimmer and lose shape, and finally, it vanished with a little pop. The bullet remained for nearly twenty seconds, but then it disappeared as well, and I couldn’t tell who was more disappointed, me or Darwin.
“Well, I guess that answers that question,” Darwin sighed. “Looks like you’ll need to keep them loaded. It’s great that the bullet sticks around for a bit longer though. It means your last shot will still do its job.”
I heard footsteps behind me and looked over my shoulder. Sorcha had returned and the crisp air had given her cheeks a rosy glow. She looked stunning at that moment, and I even heard Darwin give a grunt of approval.
“How’d it go?” I asked as she set the bow and quiver on the table next to the Winchester.
“Good,” she replied as she studied the rifle. “I’m definitely rusty, but I can still hit my targets. Have you two been having fun?”
“Charles showed me three new guns,” I replied without bothering to hide my excitement. “The one you’re looking at is a Winchester Model Seventy.”
“It’s got that strange glow, so it must be the one you created,” she said with a smile.
“It is,” I agreed as I picked the weapon up again.
It still felt perfect in my hands, but also muffled somehow. I couldn’t understand what was different until I spotted the safety. It was still in the locked position, so I moved the bolt handle up and down, then pushed the safety forward. I heard the click and smiled, then pointed the gun toward a nearby tree.
“Be careful,” Darwin warned. “We don’t want to alert the whole town we’re here.”
“Right,” I agreed as I lowered the weapon and replaced the safety.
“Did you learn all about guns?” Sorcha teased.
“Well, I learned more,” I replied, “though there’s still a lot we need to cover. You should hold one, just to get a feel for it. You’ll probably have to use one someday soon, and it would be better if you were already comfortable with it.”
“I don’t know,” Sorcha said warily.
I set the rifle on the table, then glanced toward Darwin. When I pointed at the small case that held the Glock, he nodded.
“Okay, five rules for handling a gun,” I recited as I opened the gun and removed the Glock nine millimeter.
“Five rules,” Sorcha repeated as she studied the weapon in my hand.
“First, always point it in a safe direction,” I stated. “So away from everyone else.”
“Got it,” Sorcha replied.
“Second, treat every gun as if it was loaded,” I continued.
“So what’s involved in that?” Sorcha asked.
I smiled, then showed her how to check the Glock for bullets. I started with the magazine, then showed her how to slide the back part to check the barrel. I was happy to see that the blonde mage watched everything very carefully, then nodded when she understood.
“I think I can do that,” Sorcha murmured.
“It’s a little different on each gun, but it’s not hard to figure out once you understand how guns work,” Darwin assured her.
“Okay,” she agreed. “So what’s the next rule?”
“Next, keep your finger off the trigger until you’re ready to fire,” I added.
“Like a crossbow,” Sorcha pointed out.
“Not just keep your finger off the trigger,” Darwin amended. “Keep it outside the guard. We don’t want any accidental shootings around here.
The Irishwoman nodded, which earned a smile from Darwin. I felt a moment of frustration that the mage had earned the ex-trooper’s praise so easily, then chalked it up to her spectacular good looks.
“Rule four,” I announced with appropriate gravity, “make sure you know where your target is, and everything that’s between you and your target, as well as anything behind your target,” I continued.
“Okay,” Sorcha said with less confidence as she thought through everything I’d said.
“So you don’t shoot someone or something else by accident,” I added helpfully. “You just need to be aware of everything around you when you’re using a gun.”
“That makes sense,” Sorcha agreed. “Just from what I’ve seen over these last few days, it’s clear they’re much more dangerous than bows and arrows. And there’s no time to react.”
“Right you are,” Darwin declared.
“Okay, last rule,” I cut in, then paused for a moment. “Well, we haven’t figured out how to make this one work, but you should always wear eye and ear protection.”
“I can believe that after being around them,” Sorcha chuckled.
“We’ll try to find a Gander Mountain or Bass Pros Shop or something,” Darwin added, which drew puzzled looks from both me and Sorcha. “But don’t let me interrupt, you’re doing good.”
“Here,” I said as I handed the weapon to Sorcha. “Try it.”
Sorcha held it for a moment, then glanced at Darwin.
“I should check it first, right?” she guessed.
“She’s quick,” Darwin chuckled.
Sorcha performed the bullet check, more slowly than I had, and I realized she was using the time to study the gun. When she was satisfied that there were no bullets, she lifted it with one hand and pointed it toward a nearby tree.
“It may not feel heavy,” Darwin offered, “but it’s still got enough kick to force your arm up if you don’t keep a tight grip. You should keep both hands on the gun.”
Sorcha nodded, then placed her other hand on the gun.
“Now just pull the trigger,” I said.
Sorcha took a deep breath, then pulled the trigger.
“That was easy,” she said as she lowered the weapon and stared at it.
“We’ll let you practice with some ammo later,” Darwin replied. “So you can get used to the recoil.”
“Later,” Sorcha agreed as she handed the Glock to the ex-trooper. “I’m happy with the bow for now.”
“I’d say we had a good lesson today,” I declared.
“That we did,” Darwin agreed. “But I’ve got some more work to do before we head into the town. Why don’t you two toss together some dinner while I wrap up a few things?”
“What things?” I asked.
“Oh, I think I’ll surprise you,” Darwin snickered as he gathered up his weapons.
Chapter 13
Sorcha and I managed to put together a fish stew of sorts using some supplies from the underground home, the herbs and spices in the treehouse cabinets, and our own dwindling collection of supplies. We took turns at the little stove and patrolling the deck to scan for strangers, but no one appeared to try to dislodge us from our hiding spot, and the treehouse started to smell rather delicious.
When Darwin reappeared the first time, he had a small hand-pulled wagon that he asked me to help load. He then returned to the trees with the wagon in tow and without any explanation, though he walked off with most of our gear and supplies, and all the guns. He returned the second time without the wagon or its contents and still refused to say where he had taken everything.
“Trust me,” he replied when I tried to grill him. “After we visit the town tonight, I’ve got a new camp we can move to that won’t bring any trouble down on McGraw. By the way, that stew smells pretty good.”
“You sound like you’re expecting us to get caught,” I pointed out.
“I always expect the worst,” Darwin asserted. “Helps me stay prepared.”
“And if we don’t run into any problems?” I asked.
“We can come straight back here,” Darwin replied.
“Dinner’s just about ready,” Sorcha announced. “There isn’t any bread, but I found a box of crackers in your old… house that we can use instead.”
We gathered around the tiny table after that and ate quickly. I’ve never been much of a cook, but the fresh salted fish survived our ministrations, as did the potatoes, onions and carrots. The fish was flaky and tender, with only a hint of fishiness, and the
dried lemon peel that Sorcha had found gave it a nice zing. We all slurped the last few drops from our bowls, then glanced out the windows toward the lake.
“Sun will be down soon,” Darwin pointed out as we started to clean up. “We should start walking toward the town once we’ve finished with this. We don’t want to get there too late, or we’ll draw more attention to ourselves than we want. I’ve brought the Glock just in case. You might want to create one as well.”
I nodded, and once we had the treehouse back in order, I pictured the Glock in my hand. There was a brief tingling sensation, and then I felt the pocked surface of the grip in my hand. I inspected the gun for a moment, but when I caught Darwin’s glance, I quickly searched for the safety.
“Ummm,” I muttered as I studied the weapon.
“It’s okay,” he finally said with a smile. “The safety on a Glock nineteen is built in the trigger. No switches for you to press. See that little lever on the trigger?”
“Yeah,” I said as I looked closer.
“The gun won’t shoot unless you pull the trigger, so remember our safety rule.”
“Keep your finger out of the trigger guard until you are ready to fire,” I stated.
“Yep,” he said. “It’s really simple. That’s why people like Glocks.”
“Great,” I said as I slid the pistol into my jacket pocket.
“Are we ready, then?” Sorcha asked as she pulled her jacket on.
Darwin nodded, then held the door open for us. Once we were all on the deck, he closed the door and led the way down the stairs. There was just enough light left to see the trail that Darwin followed as we moved away from the lake and down a gentle slope. We passed a gap in the trees near the bottom, and I could make out the edge of a roof in the distance and hear the whinny of a horse.
“Is that McGraw’s house?” I asked out of curiosity.
“It is,” Darwin replied. “Damn thing’s big enough to hold a concert in, but he won’t move. Don’t know what the kids will do with it once he passes away.”
The trail eventually met up with a dirt road, which I assumed led to the house. Darwin led us away from the house as the last rays of sunlight faded away and toward the speck of lights we could see coming on in the distance.
