Gun Mage 3: Surviving a Post Apocalyptic Magic Earth

by Logan Jacobs

  “And not Delaware, but I would say this is probably still the marker we want,” Darwin replied. “There is a trail here, though someone’s made an effort to keep it hidden.”

  “How much further do you suppose it is?” Sorcha asked.

  “We’ve still got a long hike ahead of us,” Darwin replied. “And it’s pretty hilly.”

  “Figures,” Freya huffed.

  “We’ll go as far as we can today,” I said. “We can always make camp if we don’t make it by sundown.”

  “After everything we’ve seen these last few days, you want to make camp out here?” Freya asked in disbelief.

  I glanced at Sorcha, who was starting to look ragged again. I could feel my own energy starting to fade as well, and I realized the tense night had taken more out of us than we had realized.

  “We’ll find a place if we need to stop,” Darwin declared.

  With that, the ex-trooper pushed through a thicket of vines and vanished from view.

  “Are you coming?” the ex-trooper demanded.

  The women and I exchanged looks, and then Freya slipped through the vines as well with one of the horses.

  “My lady,” I murmured as I held back some of the plants for Sorcha.

  “Why, thank you, kind sir,” Sorcha laughed as she guided the other horse through the dense growth.

  I stepped through as soon as the horse’s rump was clear and found myself in another world. It was an old growth forest, filled with towering trees, the scent of pine, and a carpet of moss and ferns. I could barely see the sky through the branches, and it was obvious that none of the snow had made it to the ground in here. The trail was a stretch of dirt barely wide enough for the horses, and it curved away from the roads and the other towns as it climbed up a rocky hillside.

  “This looks like fun,” Sorcha sighed as she watched Darwin’s form hike up the hill with Freya and the horse a few feet behind.

  “How are you doing?” I asked quietly. “Do you want to stop?”

  “Not yet,” she responded after several seconds. “Though I’m not sure if I’ll be able to make it to Pastor.”

  “We’ll get as far as we can,” I said as I took her free hand in mine. “Tomorrow will be soon enough to find the cult that lives in Pastor.”

  “I hope Darwin’s right and that they believe in helping strangers,” Sorcha mused as we started after the ex-trooper and his granddaughter. “I could definitely use a healer, and a long, hot soak in a tub. Oh, and maybe a nice glass of wine to drink while I soak.”

  “I hate to disappoint you, but it didn’t sound like this cult believed in driving around in... what did he call it? An RV? I doubt they have very many other amenities, either.”

  “He did mention horse and buggies,” Sorcha sighed, though I saw the twinkle in her eyes. “And I might be forced to share my bath. To conserve water or some such.”

  “Oh, that would be terrible,” I agreed. “But maybe you could give me the details about Freya’s tail afterwards.”

  Sorcha gave me a playful swat, and one of her rare saucy smiles.

  “Just for that, maybe I will share my bath with Freya,” she laughed.

  We traveled in amiable silence after that, with just the sounds of the forest to keep us company. I still watched the wildlife carefully, just in case any of them suddenly started chucking pinecones at us again, but the forest and its denizens remained blessedly normal.

  The trail, unfortunately, remained difficult, as it twisted up and down ravines and crossed a pair of narrow creeks. We walked across pitted rocks in many places, often made slimey by moss and dead leaves. I, for one, was starting to miss the easier path along the old highways, and I wondered if the cook had sent us this way out of some sort of bizarre revenge.

  Late in the day, we crested a hill, and Darwin stopped our caravan so he could study the surroundings. There wasn’t much to be seen beyond more forest, though Freya’s rabbit vision picked out the edge of a rooftop along the ridge.

  “We’ve still got a ways to go before we reach Pastor,” Darwin remarked as he looked at the map again. “But maybe we could stop there for the night.”

  “That sounds good,” Sorcha sighed.

  Freya took the lead this time as she hopped along the slope and led us closer to the building she had spotted. We had to turn away from the trail, but Freya was confident she could find it again without a problem. Still, I pulled out my trusty knife and left a few trail marks just in case.

  The building was a single-story structure made of logs with a stone chimney, a dirt covered porch, and a metal shed tucked off to the side. A dark green door hung at an angle from its hinges, but the windows were still intact, and I couldn’t hear anything dripping from the ceiling.

  “Looks like an old ranger station,” Darwin noted as he stuck his head inside the door. “Doesn’t look like anyone’s been here in ages.”

  We managed to push the door open wide enough for the horses to get through, and then we stepped inside our nighttime camp. It smelled musty and leaves littered the ground, but it was dry and relatively warm. There was an old desk, though someone had long ago emptied out the drawers and left them scattered around the floor. The chair had been smashed as well, and its remains were left piled in a corner. A metal cabinet with a rusted padlock still stood in its place, though the dents in the doors showed where someone had tried to break in.

  “Might be some supplies in here that we could use,” Darwin mused as he studied the lock.

  “Hex knows how to pick locks,” Sorcha offered as she and Freya started to unload the horses.

  “Really?” the ex-trooper asked in surprise as he looked over his shoulder at me.

  “I’m okay at it,” I explained. “That lock looks pretty bad, though.”

  “Still, might be worth a try,” Darwin suggested. “I’ve got some experience with lockpicking myself.”

  “Of course, you do,” Freya snickered. “Because what officer of the law doesn’t need to know how to pick locks?”

  Darwin ignored his granddaughter’s dig and turned back to the lock.

  “I guess I could try,” I offered. “Let me just get the knives.”

  Sorcha nodded and looked over the packs until she found the one I had stowed most of my gear in. The blonde mage handed me the pack which I accepted with a grin and a nod.

  I found the slender knives I’d lifted from Benny and June’s houseboat and joined Darwin at the cabinet. He looked at the knives in surprise, then at me.

  “What are you doing with scalpels?” he asked.

  “Scalpels?” I repeated.

  “Surgical knives,” he explained. “Doctors used these when they had to cut a patient.”

  “Oh,” I said as I looked at the knives and realized why Benny and June had them. “We took them from a houseboat. The owners were blood mages who wanted to steal our powers by drinking our blood.”

  “Is that even possible?” Freya asked in disbelief.

  “Yes, it is,” Sorcha replied.

  “One day, you’re going to have to tell me everything that happened before you made it out to my house,” Darwin chuckled. “Alright, let’s see if we can get this open.”

  The older man selected one of the knives, then started to work on the lock. After several grunts and a hard twist that I was certain had bent the blade, the ex-trooper stood back and shook his head as he returned the blade to me.

  “Rusted through,” he sighed. “Unless someone’s got some WD-40 handy, I don’t think we’ll be able to budge it.”

  “Can we break it?” Sorcha suggested.

  “If we had something heavy enough to hit it with,” I mused.

  “Can’t you just shoot it?” Freya asked.

  “Don’t want to waste the ammo,” Darwin sniffed.

  “I’ll go look for a rock,” I offered as I rewrapped the blades.

  “Just hand me one of the shotguns or a rifle,” Darwin suggested.

  Freya grabbed one of the sacks and found
the Thunder Ranch. She quickly passed it to Darwin, who grunted when he recognized it. He checked the safety, then removed two shells.

  “Are you going to use the breach?” I asked.

  “What?” Darwin asked in surprise. “I just said no ammo.”

  “Oh, I thought you could use the breach thing without ammo,” I replied.

  “Ah, okay, I guess I didn’t really explain that,” Darwin sighed. “But, no, I’m going to do this the old-fashioned way.”

  Without further warning, Darwin lifted the shotgun and smashed the butt against the lock. The lock held for two more strikes, and then it clattered to the floor. Darwin kicked the lock across the floor as he handed the shotgun back to Freya, then turned his attention to the cabinet.

  The metal on the cabinet had started to rust in places as well, and both Darwin and I had to pull on the door together before we could open it up. The squealing sound of rusty metal scraping against metal left the horses in a foul mood and both women with their hands over their ears.

  After a great deal of pulling and heaving, though, we finally had the cabinet open. Darwin peered inside, and I looked over his shoulder. Even though my palm wasn’t itching, I still secretly hoped that we might find another gun. Sadly, the cabinet was gun free, but it did hold some other helpful items.

  “Ammo,” Darwin said as he pulled a box from one of the shelves. “We can use this in the Winchester. Oooh, nylon rope. Always good to have. Bungee cords. Not sure what we could use those for, but we might as well take them. There’s some canned food in here, too, but I wouldn’t recommend taking that.”

  Darwin finally stepped away from the cabinet with the ammo, the rope, and the bungee cords, which looked like more brightly colored rope, only thinner and shorter with plastic hooks on both ends. I peered inside the cabinet and saw the cans he had mentioned, full of ‘Chef Boyardee Beef Ravioli’, as well as some moldy pads of paper, a pair of pre-magic lanterns that didn’t work any more, and a picture of a group of people standing in front of the log cabin.

  “At least we have more bullets,” Sorcha commented as Darwin started to stash his finds into one of the bags.

  “Are you sure you don’t want to try the Chef Boyardee Beef Ravioli?” I called out.

  “Only if I’m starving, and I’m not starving,” Darwin replied. “Man, that turkey smells good.”

  “But who was he?” I pressed. “He must have been a really famous chef if they put his name and face on the can. And he has that big hat on that only the really good chefs wear. Did he own one of those fancy restaurants?”

  “Oh, for crying out loud,” Darwin muttered. “Okay, look, when Boyardee first started the business, it was fine. But then he sold the company and corporate America turned it into tasteless glop. Just leave it.”

  Disappointed that I wouldn’t be able to taste any of Chef Boyardee’s ravioli, even if it was glop, I shrugged and closed the cabinet as far as I could. But the door stuck halfway, and I could still see the Chef’s inviting smile. I glanced around and realized everyone else was busy with their own chores. Darwin’s back was to me as he tried to put the door back into place while Sorcha and Freya set out the bedrolls and worked on the fire. I slipped a can of the ravioli from the shelf and quietly dropped it into my satchel.

  Since we had found the cabin, setting up camp was an easy task, and we were soon settled around the fireplace with our early dinner. The turkey was as delicious as it smelled, and though Darwin had hoped that it would last at least another day, we demolished what the cook had sent with us and then picked the bones dry. We also ate the spicy pickled green beans and the hard rolls the cook had included and topped it off with small rounds of fried dough filled with cherry jelly. Maybe the cook wasn’t as angry as I had thought.

  “I could get used to this campfire food,” Freya observed as she smothered a belch.

  “Don’t,” I laughed. “Most of what we eat on the road is a lot of beans and jerky. We’ll be lucky if we can find a few herbs or such to toss in for flavoring.”

  “Maybe we should take those Boyardee cans with us,” Sorcha suggested with a smile.

  “I guess I should be thankful it wasn’t twinkies,” Darwin sighed.

  “Twinkies?” Freya and I laughed at the same time.

  “What are twinkies?” Sorcha demanded.

  “Cake filled with cream,” Darwin explained. “And lots of preservatives. People used to joke that if the world ever ended, the only things left would be the roaches and the twinkies.”

  “Sounds delicious,” Freya snorted as she wrinkled her nose.

  “I was more of a Ding Dong guy myself,” Darwin added.

  “Ding Dong?” Sorcha laughed. “Oh, come one, those can’t be real.”

  “They were, I assure you,” Darwin huffed. “Along with Sno Balls and Swiss Rolls and Peeps.”

  “These sound like something we’re better off not having,” I noted.

  “Maybe twinkies destroyed the world,” Freya suggested. “Along with cars and plastic.”

  “And airplanes and trains,” Sorcha added.

  “You know, it wasn’t such a horrible place,” Darwin protested. “At least we didn’t have mutants and mages popping up out of nowhere, or giant rats that like to steal cattle. And we didn’t need portal mages to get from one coast to the other.”

  “You’re right, gramps,” Freya assured him. “But you have to admit, they did have some strange names for things back then.”

  “Yeah, okay,” the older man groused. “I’ll give you that.”

  “So, who wants the first watch?” I asked as I tried to change the topic.

  “I’ll take it,” Darwin offered. “I can use the time to clean the guns.”

  “I don’t mind doing it again,” Freya suggested.

  “No, no, it’s good,” Darwin said quickly.

  “Then I’ll take second,” Freya declared.

  “I’ll be third,” I added as Sorcha started to open her mouth.

  “Fine,” the Irishwoman sighed. “I’ll be last watch. But I’m not making any promises about how good the coffee will be when the rest of you wake up.”

  We talked a while longer, but the lack of sleep from the night before soon wore us down. Sorcha and I cuddled together under one of the blankets while Freya moved to a spot closer to her grandfather. I heard the ex-trooper and the mutant talking quietly while Sorcha drifted off to sleep in my arms. I smiled at the hominess of it all, then closed my eyes and snuggled closer to the blonde mage. I fell asleep to the crackle of the fire and the sound of Freya’s quiet laugh.

  I awoke to someone poking me in the shoulder. I rubbed my eyes and saw that it was still dark outside and only a few embers remained in the fireplace. Sorcha’s gold mane was still spread across my chest, and the Irish mage snorted gently when I tried to shift to see what had jabbed me.

  Darwin’s face hovered into view, as did the pump-action shotgun he carried in his hands. I eased Sorcha onto the blanket and sat up while I groped for my jacket and the Glock that was tucked into the pocket.

  “Heard something outside,” Darwin said quietly as I stood up. “Might be a large animal, but who the hell knows out here.”

  I nodded and the two of us crept toward the door. We waited for a moment, and then I heard the sound of heavy footsteps near the shed. The footsteps paused and then moved slowly toward the cabin.

  “Not an animal,” I whispered to Darwin, and he nodded in agreement.

  The person stopped again, this time near one of the windows, and I held my breath as I waited for a face to appear. At first, there was nothing, but then I caught a flash of movement, and saw a pair of eyes peer through the glass for just a moment. The eyes vanished again a moment later, and the footsteps trod more carefully toward the door. Another long moment of silence, and then the doorknob slowly turned.

  Darwin and I waited with the Glock and the shotgun pointed toward the door. For several heartbeats, I didn’t think the person on the other side would open
the door, and I started to lower the nine millimeter. But then the visitor tugged lightly on the door, and when it didn’t open right away, the person yanked as hard as they could.

  Darwin and I found ourselves aiming at a woman with uncombed hair, two goat-slit eyes, and a pair of horns on the top of her head. She bleated at the two of us, then leapt away into the night before either of us could fire.

  “Do you think she has friends?” I asked as I peered into the darkness and tried to pick out any large moving objects.

  “What’s going on?” Freya demanded.

  I glanced around and saw that both women were awake and staring at the open door.

  “We had a visitor of the mutant kind,” Darwin replied. “We’re trying to figure out if she has any friends.”

  “Was she a normal mutant, or more like one of those weird things in the cave kind of mutant?” Freya asked as she stood up and inched toward the door.

  “As far as I could tell, a normal mutant,” I said without even considering how absurd that statement would sound to most people. Mutants weren’t normal, by decree of the Magesterium, and that would never change, no matter how much proof you offered.

  We waited quietly for several more minutes, but we didn’t hear any more footsteps or see any more lurking figures. While Darwin stood watch with the shotgun, I muscled the door back into place, and we gathered around what was left of our fire.

  “Now what?” Sorcha asked.

  “We can’t leave in the middle of the night,” I sighed. “We don’t know this terrain well enough, and there’s not enough light to see by.”

  “Another early departure, then,” Freya mused. “Though I don’t know if I can get any more sleep tonight.”

  “We should try,” Darwin encouraged. “We don’t want everyone falling asleep on the trail tomorrow.”

  Eventually, we settled down again, and Freya took over on watch. I spied on her again, fascinated by the ears that seemed to track every sound in the nighttime forest. I only closed my eyes when Sorcha nudged me gently in the chest and gave me a teasing glance. I figured I would catnap for a short bit, but I managed to fall asleep after all. Freya nudged me awake a few hours later, and stayed awake long enough to make sure I was alert before slipping back under her own blanket.