Mage Hunters Box Set

by Andrew C Piazza

  How long? How long did I have?

  They released Dread and I together. We rode the taxi home in silence, staring out of the window, lost in our respective hells. He started to fidget about; I could feel him wanting to say something, desperate to say something, but what was there to say?

  "Revival Technologies," he finally said, the words sounding like a cheap excuse for what he really wanted to say, "says that they've made a lot of progress since Polonius and Stephen..."

  "I love you, Dread."

  The words were out before I could think twice. Dread's eyes closed and a long, slow breath eased out of his chest.

  "Ever... ever since I met you," was all he could say.

  "Come home with me," I said, and took his hand in mine.

  I couldn't help but notice the pinkish blotches of skin covering his forearm.

  We tried to make love, but the act was doomed from the beginning. Too many pink stretches of skin reminding us what we were now, I guess. We couldn't even hold each other close; the same bulges of muscle I had wanted to meld with not so long ago were nothing but chunks of spoiled meat now. No matter how hard I tried, Dread's body still felt like a carcass to me. I looked into his eyes and knew he felt the same about me.

  It's a sad, stupid, sappy cliché', and it's true. I'd hoped we could use this as a second chance, a new lease on life, an experience to set us free from the stupid psychological restraints keeping us apart. But the truth is, there are no second chances… there is only one go at life and there is no coming back, not really.

  Every chance we had at a life together, we wasted. Now, we're nothing but shards of glass.

  We were laying side by side on our backs, staring at the ceiling, so we wouldn't have to look at each other, when he said it. "I'm not going out like Stephen."

  It was decided that easily.

  We'd be able to get our hands on what we’d need much more easily than you'd think. A couple dozen kilos of plastic explosives, detonators, and a sixty second timer. Not enough time to get out of the building, but enough time to say our goodbyes.

  Revival Technologies, Incorporated, was about to be cremated.

  As for us… Dread was right. It's only a matter of time, and I'm not going out like Stephen. Dread and I, we knew the risks and took them, saw our chances to be together and squandered them, convinced that we were invulnerable, invincible; that there'd always be another day, another chance, another life.

  It could be worse. Some people never get the chance to say it, even if it is just a kiss before dying. I may not be able to fool myself for long, but my imagination is strong enough that for a little while, I can pretend he's the old Dread and I'm the old Cass.

  I can pretend for sixty seconds.

  ***

  Dr. Adjani had finally taken his jacket off when the call came to ruin his night. He didn’t answer it at first; he finished hanging up his suit jacket carefully, deliberately, before looking at the caller ID on the phone.

  McCoy. Of course it was McCoy.

  Again. Again. The proverbial fires were finally out; it would take weeks… perhaps months… to rebuild the damage done to the building, but Polonius was eliminated, the police presence was out of his building, and business could return to normal.

  There was finally peace in the valley, and all he wanted to do was rest. So of course McCoy had to call and once again be a thorn in his side.

  “Yes?” he said, pressing the button on the phone to activate the speaker. He didn’t bother to hold the phone close to his face; he left it sit on the desk next to him as he gazed out of his window onto the city below.

  “I’m sorry to…”

  “Are you going to do this again?” he said.

  “Sorry… I mean… right. Um, the repairs to the west stairwell and the elevators are complete, so we should be able to get the, uh, project on the fifteenth floor back on track.”

  “Which you could have told me tomorrow at the office, instead of bothering me at home.”

  Silence on the other end of the line, and Adjani could practically taste McCoy’s nervousness through the phone. She didn’t hang up, though, so Adjani finally said, “Well? What else?”

  “I do have a question.”

  “You always do. What is it?”

  “The medications you’ve ordered for the two of them. The police officers, I mean. The ones from the SWAT team that we kept here after Polonius. Harrison and Wheeler.”

  “Yes, I know who you mean. There were only two police officers that I ordered medications for.”

  “Well, it’s just… at these dosages, there’s significant side effects. Altered skin sensation, facial tics, slurred speech…”

  “And?”

  “I was wondering…. why are they even taking them? There doesn’t seem to be any indications for…”

  “They’re taking them, because those are the medications and dosages that I’ve prescribed.”

  “But, don’t you think that that level of medication could affect their mental state…”

  “No. Now, have you finished second guessing my orders, or is there something else about how I handle my cases that you disapprove of?”

  “I… no. Have a good night, sir.”

  Adjani pressed the button on his phone to end the call when the voice came from behind him.

  “That job really is going to be the death of you.”

  Adjani’s eyes pressed shut. The thorns in his side always seemed to travel in pairs.

  “What are you doing here, Matthias?”

  Matthias looked hurt. “Again, I sense a lack of hospitality. If you take so much issue with unexpected visitors, perhaps you should consider having this very expensive condominium of yours warded against magical transport.”

  “I’ll definitely look into it. Now what are you doing here?”

  “Looking after my investment, of course. All those fireworks over at your precious Revival Tech building. Was any of the equipment damaged?”

  “What equipment?”

  “Don’t be obtuse. You know exactly what I’m talking about. The equipment we’ve been working on off the books, that you keep tucked away on your extra-secret fifteenth floor.”

  “The equipment that you told your ‘expert’ to kill Polonius over?”

  “The very same.”

  “It’s fine. The conflict with Polonius was restricted to the upper floors. I inspected the equipment and it doesn’t look like Polonius did anything to it.”

  “Good. We have a lot invested in this project. Too much for any more distractions or complications. I trust you agree?”

  Adjani refused to concede the point. “You didn’t come here to ask me about this.”

  “No,” Matthias said. “You asked me… well, my people… to use our unique powers of observation to keep an eye on your two little pet police officers. The ones that were so badly hurt in the fight with Polonius.”

  “And?”

  “And, there’s news.”

  Adjani waited, and when Matthias didn’t continue, said, “Well, what is it?”

  “Short answer?” Matthias said. “They’re planning to blow up your building.”

  “What?”

  “I know, ambitious of them, isn’t it? Especially after all they’ve been through.”

  “Are you sure?”

  “They discussed the plans in detail while we had them under surveillance. In fact, they’re planning on stealing the explosives later this evening.”

  “Destroy the building?” Adjani said. “Why would they want to do that?”

  “Perhaps they hold a grudge over being the latest of your science experiments.”

  Adjani ignored him.

  “I can have my people intercept them, take them out before…”

  “No,” Adjani said. “No. I need them alive.”

  “Why?”

  Adjani ignored him, thinking out loud instead. “I need an anonymous tip put in to the police. They’ll take them alive.”

  “
Sentimental of you. Why bother?”

  “Once they’re arrested, I can pull some strings and arrange for them to be incarcerated in a prison where I can keep a close eye on them. One in which I have some ties.”

  Matthias narrowed his eyes. “What are you up to with those two? I heard you on the phone talking about their medications. What’s your game with them?”

  “They still have use to me,” Adjani said.

  “Two new rats to run through a maze?”

  “If that helps you understand it. They’re no longer any concern of yours. But you’re right about one thing… I’m not finished with them.”

  Cass

  Even the best laid plans can go awry. Polonius had said that to me, shortly before I blew his pedantic brains out.

  It’s an old quote. The best laid plans of mice and men often go awry.

  It’s where Steinbeck got his title for his novel Of Mice And Men. Well, technically, he got it from an old Scottish poem that’s barely readable, but close enough.

  In any case, that book was one of the few on the required reading list for high school that I actually bothered to read. Mostly because it’s short; maybe a hundred and fifty pages, tops, and unlike most of the boring crap we were assigned, Of Mice And Men is actually pretty good.

  I won’t bore you with the details; the gist of it is, we make our clever plans, shit happens, and it all goes to hell. I could seriously relate.

  Oh, we thought ourselves pretty slick, Dread and I. Planned it all out like clever little mice. We’d sneak our way in to the explosives storage at the armory, infiltrate Revival Tech’s headquarters building at night, when nobody would be in the building, and blow it all to smithereens.

  No guns. No casualties. Other than us, that is.

  That way we could get our revenge on the bastards who had yanked us back to life, only to watch us fall apart at the seams. Revenge for taunting us with the false promise of hope. For dangling a cruel facsimile of a second chance in front of us.

  It all went to shit. They were waiting for us at the armory, where we’d hoped to snag enough C4 to make Revival Tech nothing but a bad memory.

  Someone must’ve tipped them off. It’s all I can think of. But it doesn’t matter. All that matters is, our fellow police officers were there and they knew exactly what we were up to.

  They weren’t taking any chances. Pretty much every cop in the city was there, decked out like they were ready for a riot.

  Edison was there, directing the show from behind a wall of plastic shields, letting his useless words fall like rain out of his useless mouth. Like I said, we didn’t have guns. Of course we didn’t. We weren’t out to kill anybody other than ourselves.

  Full disclosure, though… I wouldn’t have minded killing that soft turd of a bureaucrat.

  I searched the faces of my former colleagues lined up like a bunch of Spartans behind their riot shield wall, looking for Shifty. He wasn’t there.

  That made sense. Edison probably didn’t want to take any chances that he might break ranks out of some sense of loyalty to the two of us.

  They didn’t need him. There must’ve been twenty of them. While I’m no slouch at fighting hand to hand and Dread is a freight train, there’s only so much that two people can do against a small army of cops armed with riot shields and Tasers.

  My eyes are still red from that fucking pepper spray.

  And now I’m sitting in this cell, alone, knuckles bloody, awaiting arraignment. They’re calling us terrorists, Dread and I. I guess someone at Revival Tech took it personally that we were going to blow up their pretty building. That someone made some calls, and now Dread and I are headed for a deep, dark hole.

  For the first time in my life, I feel beaten. I feel like a mouse pinned in a trap, with no options and no hope.

  I can’t let myself think that way. I have to keep fighting. I have to find some way to take control of this. But stuck in this cell, with the clock ticking on my sanity… I don’t exactly have a lot of moves left to make.

  Still, I refuse to give up. I can’t do that. I guess I’m too damn stubborn, too damn angry to let Fate have its way with me without a struggle.

  When you’re completely out of options, all you can do is keep breathing in and out, and wait to find what the dawn will bring.

  This game’s not over. Revival Tech isn’t getting off this easy. I’m not finished with them yet.

  Author Notes

  Thank you, Gentle Reader, for allowing me to share my daydreams with you. I hope you found the time well spent.

  If you enjoyed this story, there are a number of ways you can support it. You can leave a review on Amazon by clicking here, and let me know what you liked about it. UK readers can click here. That’s a big help.

  You can let any friends who you think might like to read a book like “Shards Of Glass” know about it, whether through sharing a link on social media, via email, or just good old fashioned word of mouth. Finally, you can follow me on Facebook, https://www.facebook.com/andrewcpiazza/, or visit my website, www.andrewpiazza.com. Know that any support you choose to offer, and any feedback you choose to give, is greatly appreciated.

  It’s been a long road, getting “Shards Of Glass” into the form you see before you today.

  “Shards Of Glass” started off as an experiment (as many of my stories do). One of my literary influences is Harlan Ellison, and one of my favorite aspects to Ellison’s work is that he’s experimental.

  He tries stuff out. Sometimes, crazy stuff. Weird stuff. What-the-hell-is-he-doing stuff. And usually, it works. Sometimes, it doesn’t. But, it’s daring, and I like daring.

  In any case, I decided to try a little experiment of my own, with shifting POVs. Not only different character’s perspectives, but also combining third person and first person POVs. The result, is the structure you just read in “Shards Of Glass”.

  It turned out to be fun to write, and an interesting way to tell a story, but it is definitely more challenging. Writing first person POV from the perspective of a batshit-crazy, pedantic zombie wizard… well, that’s just not normal. Talk about an unreliable narrator!

  As far as the story was concerned, I was in an urban fantasy kind of mood at the time (still am, most often), and I started thinking about the intersection of magic and technology and what that might lead to. And so, we ended up with Revival Technologies, Inc., working tirelessly to try to bring the dead back to life, no matter what the cost.

  I started getting an image in my head, of a modern-day Great Pyramid of Giza, with a mad pharaoh sitting atop it, raining down doom on the populace, and that started to shape the setting of Maestro Polonius holed up in the corporate headquarters of the place that had brought him back from Beyond. And who better to face a narcissistic, power-mad lunatic than Cass Wheeler, my female version of Escape From New York’s Snake Plissken; a speak no bullshit, take no bullshit, tough as nails gunfighter?

  The story started to take shape. Often, as that happens, a pattern begins to emerge that suggests an overall theme for the work. In this case, the theme that kept begging to be discussed was the idea that some things, once broken, can’t be fixed. That life is precious, and every moment matters, because there are no second chances. You get this life, and no other. Make the most of it. Don’t hold back. Speak the truth. Do the right thing. Because we’re all headed for the dirt, and there’s no coming back.

  Then something interesting happened. After the story was published, I couldn’t stop thinking about that world and those characters. It seemed to be contagious; I kept getting feedback from readers asking me when there would be more stories set in that world where magic is mainstream and cops have to clean up the mess.

  To try to keep a long story short, I turned it into a series called “Mage Hunters”. But “Shards Of Glass” was originally written as a stand-alone novella, and didn’t work well as a first-in-series story, so eventually, I had to go back and expand it into a short novel, which is the form in which yo
u see it today. The original novella is still available in my short story collection “Strange Days”, if that holds any interest to you.

  The expansion added more detail on the world and how magic works, more about the doomed mission in which Stephen died, some more action sequences, and more hints about the story arc that’s going to continue through the next couple of books.

  Speaking of which, let’s see where we’ve been left. Cass and Dread are headed off to prison for the attempted destruction of Revival Tech, but I wouldn’t count them out just yet.

  We’ve gotten a glimpse behind the curtain at the nefarious dealings going on at Revival Technologies; Adjani, his sometime conspirator Matthias, and the mysterious dark-eyed woman who Polonius called “his Isis”, all working on an off-books project on the fifteenth floor. There’s only been hints as to what’s going on there, but all will be revealed in the coming books.

  That, and more magic, more mayhem, and as wild of a rollercoaster ride as I can give you.

  Resurrection Day

  Andrew C. Piazza

  Other Books by Andrew C. Piazza:

  One Last Gasp (novel)

  Strange Days (short story collection)

  Mage Hunters Series:

  Shards Of Glass

  Resurrection Day

  The Intron Code

  Author Bio, Free Giveaways, and more at

  www.AndrewPiazza.com

  ____________________________________________

  Copyright © 2018 Andrew C. Piazza

  All rights reserved.

  foreword

  For those of you who are new to the Mage Hunters series, the books are written in an unusual style. Rather than a single, consistent point of view, the story shifts back and forth from third person perspective to varying characters’ first person perspectives. Chapters in third person start with three asterisks (***) , while chapters in first person begin with that character’s name.

  ***

  Robby's last day on Earth started off just as lousy as the day before. The constant rain soaking the prison grounds over the last week had once again created the same issue which had haunted him since the first day he took a job with the maintenance department.