Gun Mage 4: Surviving a Post Apocalyptic Magic Earth Read online

  Naturally, the dog stopped tugging as soon as the Irishwoman held the collar. Instead, he gazed at the blonde mage with an adoring stare and wagged his tail.

  “I’ll take him to my room for now,” Sorcha laughed. “Shall we meet back here in fifteen minutes?”

  “Fifteen should be good,” Darwin agreed.

  While my three companions and the dog climbed the stairs, I stepped back outside with the boy. We walked over to the bays together, and after running an appreciative hand over both horses, the kid explained that the entrance to the stables was around the corner and between the two red brick buildings. I watched him lead the horses away until he turned the corner, then went back inside the inn.

  The clerk had already disappeared although the parrot was still on duty. A bowl of dried fruit had been attached to the perch and I watched the bird for a minute as it picked through the offering to find the pieces it wanted. The bird found whatever it was looking for and started to eat the fruit with zeal.

  “Yummy!” the parrot declared.

  I gave the parrot a smile, then followed the discrete sign to the stairs. Since we had opted for the rooms with private baths, we were all assigned to rooms on the second floor, since that particular luxury wasn’t available on the two upper floors. When I stepped onto the second floor landing, I had to stop and check the signs for directions to my room, and I realized for the first time just how large the inn really was. Though there were other storefronts on this side of the street, I realized that the inn itself must have occupied the upper levels of the other buildings on the block.

  After giving up on the signs and following a map of emergency exits instead, I finally found my room down a narrow passage that sprouted off the main hall. There was very little light in the passageway, and I’d almost walked right past it, but one of the other guests had stepped from his room at that moment and I’d realized it wasn’t just a closet.

  I squeezed past the other guest, a man with a thick mustache and little hair on top of his head, as we tried to maneuver around each other and we exchanged quick greetings. My room was at the end, and with some trepidation, I unlocked the door and looked inside.

  Given how small and dark the hall was, I didn’t hold out much hope for the room. But it turned out to be large, with plenty of space for the oversized bed, an armoire that could have held everything I owned and still had room left over, and a small writing desk near the large window. Sunlight played across the pale yellow walls and the thick comforter the color of summer grass, and a second door led to what I assumed was the bathroom.

  I dropped my gear into the corner, made quick use of the facilities, which still sparkled enough to be brand new, then stepped back into the narrow passageway. As I turned to lock my door, I heard one of the other doors open and I pictured having to do the same strange dance again. I looked up and then smiled when I caught sight of Freya.

  “Imagine meeting you here,” she teased.

  “I have to admit, I like having my own bathroom,” I replied as I pocketed my key. “I kind of like not having to wait in line.”

  “You don’t need to tell me,” Freya laughed. “When you’ve got as many siblings and cousins as I do, you learn to appreciate the small things, like having your own bathroom.”

  “You have a lot of siblings and cousins?” I asked in surprise, mostly because Darwin had never talked much about the rest of the family.

  “Tons,” Freya declared. “We could start a town of our own if we could ever get everyone focused long enough to pull it off.”

  “Do you miss them?” I queried as we made our way back to the main hallway.

  “I do,” she admitted. “I love gramps to death, but sometimes I miss having all those people around. Other times, I just like to relish being on my own. Well, mostly on my own. Being around just the three of you is a happy middle ground.”

  “I’ll try not to impose too much,” I chuckled as we stopped at the intersection and tried to remember where the stairs were.

  “Ummm, this way,” Freya said after a moment. “Right?”

  “Right,” I agreed as we followed an arrow that had nothing written next to it.

  “What about you?” the beautiful rabbit woman inquired. “Any family?”

  “My parents are gone, but I still have the family that took me in,” I mused. “Paul and his wife were great parents, and the daughters were my best friends. The sons I tried to avoid. Still try to avoid if I’m honest about it.”

  “Oh, I’m sorry about your parents,” Freya said sadly. “But at least you found someone to take care of you.”

  I nodded, reluctant to say anything else about my parents and their deaths. Even all these years later, I dreaded having to revisit the nightmarish scene of my father locked in a struggle with the man with one blue eye and one brown eye while my mother screamed, or the sight of Paul Reese covered in blood when he returned to the Reese ranch after riding to my parents’ rescue.

  “I guess having all that family made it easy for you to hide your… umm…” I stuttered.

  “Bunny parts?” Freya whispered, then laughed. “Yes, I guess it did. Everyone in the family knew, and they all worked so hard to keep it a secret, but it was getting harder to hide, and truthfully, I was getting tired of trying.”

  “If you hadn’t been discovered, would you have stayed in Camden?” I asked.

  “Huh,” the mutant paused as she considered my question. “Well, I didn’t have any plans to run away exactly, but I think I would have left eventually. It was getting too dangerous for my family and for me.”

  “But where would you have gone?”

  “I don’t know,” she admitted. “It’s not like you can just pick up and move to a new town when you feel like it. I mean, all the crazy stuff we’ve seen so far is only the tip of the iceberg, and then when you get to the new town, everybody is all suspicious of you because they can’t imagine any good reason for someone to move. Maybe it’s better to just keep moving, like those roving mages that go from town to town and offer their services.”

  “And what services would you offer?”

  “Oh, well,” Freya replied as she batted her eyelashes at me. “I have plenty of services I could offer. I’m quite good with the bow, and I’m a skilled tracker. I’m also a pretty good dancer. And I’ve heard that the men go wild for a girl with a tail.”

  “Uh,” I hesitated and I felt a blush start to creep up my neck. “That’s not quite--”

  “Oh, I’m not that sheltered,” Freya declared as she shook her perfect little rump. “I know what it really means.”

  “Oh, good,” was all I could think to say, since my blood had decided to leave my skull and head southward in an urgent fashion.

  We’d made it to the stairs by then, and I followed the rabbit woman down the steps. I could almost see the bunny tail beneath her baggy pants and shirt, and reminded myself that her grandfather wouldn’t appreciate the way I was watching Freya’s butt as she descended.

  Barnaby barked as we stepped into the small foyer for the stairs, and I saw Freya scowl at the dog. A cleaner Barnaby ignored her and trotted to my side for a quick chin rub.

  “I’m glad he’s staying with you,” Sorcha declared. “He already tried to sleep on my bed before I even finished brushing him and he takes up almost all of the space.”

  “I’m sure we’ll get along just fine,” I replied as I obliged the dog’s silent request.

  Darwin joined us a moment later, and our small group returned to the main entry where the clerk was checking in another set of new arrivals while the green parrot played with a piece of rope. The clerk nodded briefly as we passed her desk, and Barnaby loudly sniffed the young couple and their two children, but I snapped my fingers and the Weimaraner quickly followed us out the door and back into the street.

  We didn’t amble, exactly, but we took our time walking toward the railroad operator’s offices. We peered in shop windows and stopped to check menus, and even found a few restau
rants that looked like good possibilities for dinner. It all seemed quite normal and the locals were friendly, at least until we drew close to the Tower Block.

  It was easy enough to see why it was called the Tower Block. The entire area was taken up by two pre-magic era buildings, surrounded by a large park. The tallest building was eight stories tall, with a sharply slanted roof and a sign that declared Scranton to be ‘The Electric City’. Across from that was a slightly shorter building with urns and square turrets along the edge of the roof, two round towers on one side, and a tall square bell tower with a clock just above at the other end. They were both impressive in their own way, though not nearly as intriguing as the glass structure we’d seen in York.

  What was more interesting was the large crowd that had gathered along the road that ran between the buildings and spilled into the nearby streets. A few carried handmade signs, but most simply milled about and chanted out anti-train slogans whenever they were prompted. The local deputies were out in force as well, all in uniform and protective leather armor, and all armed. As I peered around the park, I spotted a few more people that I thought might be law enforcement as well, though they weren’t in the gray and tan uniforms.

  The atmosphere here was decidedly less friendly, and I saw quite a few people study the crowd then give up and walk away. A few people tried to push through the protesters but were slowly turned away by the sheer bulk. No fists were thrown or weapons produced, but if the crowd closed in and refused to let you through, there wasn’t much you could do but retreat back behind the temporary barricades that someone had thrown up around the protesters.

  “The one with the clock tower must be the D.M. building,” Sorcha mused as she pointed toward a sign over the doors to the building.

  The sign itself looked old enough to have come from the pre-magic era as well and it had started to yellow in places and fade in others. But it clearly showed the face of a dark haired man with an odd smile and the words Dunder Mifflin.

  “Are you effing kidding me?” the ex-trooper demanded as he stared at the sign.

  “What now?” Freya sighed in mock exasperation.

  “That show I told you about,” Darwin replied. “That’s from the show.”

  “Are you sure?” I asked.

  “Yes, I’m sure,” Darwin snapped. “In fact, that’s the guy who burned his foot.”

  “That explains the strange smile,” the Irishwoman remarked.

  “I can’t believe this,” Darwin said as he shook his head.

  “Well, whatever that sign is for, or from, we still need to get inside,” I pointed out. “Though that crowd doesn’t look like they’re letting anyone through.”

  “I’m surprised the police haven’t moved in,” Darwin mused. “Businesses don’t like it when they can’t conduct business.”

  “Maybe there’s a back door we can slip in,” Freya suggested. “I could just take a quick run around the building and see if I spot anything.”

  “It would certainly be easier than trying to go through that,” I agreed.

  “I don’t know,” Darwin grumbled. “This crowd is looking pretty surly.”

  “I’ll be careful, gramps,” the mutant assured him. “And it won’t take me long. I’ll be back before you know it.”

  “I don’t like you going alone,” Darwin replied as he studied the crowd. “I should go with you.”

  Freya rolled her eyes and crossed her arms.

  “You’re not fast enough to keep up with me,” the rabbit woman insisted. “I can do this quicker alone.”

  Though Darwin had his sunglasses on again it wasn’t hard to guess that he was glaring at his granddaughter. Freya, for her part, stared back just as hard.

  “I’ll go with her,” I offered. “You two wait here.”

  Freya huffed but nodded in agreement, as did Sorcha. The rabbit woman bounded away with Barnaby right beside her and me in a distant third. Freya kept to the very edges of the crowd, but the ongoing protest and road closures meant even someone with mutant speed still had to slow down.

  It was hard not to knock shoulders with the other pedestrians on the tight spaces created by the barricades, but what would normally evince little more than a tip of the hat and a quick apology was now drawing angry glances and muttered words. The protests had everyone on edge, and I found it strange that the local Magesterium appointee hadn’t stepped in yet, if for no other purpose than to break up the crowds in front of the Dunder Mifflin building. But then the protests were, in part, in support of Magesterium teachings, so maybe the mage figured it wouldn’t look good if he was the one to send them all packing.

  I finally caught up with Freya on the backside of the building and immediately saw the problem. The barricades had been extended to the rear and more officers patrolled the area. Several people approached the barricades, but only those who had the appropriate paper or whose name was on a list were allowed in.

  “Well, at least we know there is a back door,” Freya mused. “Now the question is how do we get in?”

  “We’ll have to have Sorcha use her magic,” I replied. “It looks like there’s only one guard checking names on the list so she can probably get us in without any problems.”

  “I… oh, what is that?” Freya asked as she grabbed my arm.

  I looked back toward the square where the protesters had gathered and saw a pale pink cloud spreading out and up. Pedestrians caught in the area started to run down the streets, though the cloud moved faster and soon enveloped them.

  “I’d say someone finally decided to end the protest,” I replied.

  And we were about to get sucked right into it.

  Chapter 2

  My first instinct was to pull Freya into one of the side streets and move back toward the Tower Block to find our companions. But there were hundreds of people barreling toward us, many of them with tears streaming down their cheeks and hands over their mouths. We found ourselves caught up in the wave, and it was impossible to move sideways against the flow. We were dragged further down the main road while the ominous pink cloud gave chase, and it was all I could do to keep my balance.

  Freya was knocked to the ground and I saw her floppy hat tumble away. The rabbit woman tried to scramble after it, but there were too many scared people in the way, and not one of them seemed to realize or care that there was a person on the ground. The hat disappeared beneath their feet, and for a moment, I thought Freya would as well. People spilled around her, and when she tried to stand up, they simply knocked her down again and kept going.

  I tried to push my way toward her, but the Weimaraner made it to her side first. Barnaby took a protective stance by her side and growled and snapped at anyone who ventured too close. And while the locals might have been willing to trample one helpless woman, they weren’t willing to risk being bitten by a snarling dog.

  “Freya,” I called out as I finally reached her side and pulled her to her feet.

  “I’m okay,” she assured me as she grabbed my hand. “But my hat….”

  “We’ll have to find a new one,” I told her. “In fact, I think Sorcha has one or two that we picked up at Short Hills.”

  Despite the snarling dog, the swarm continued to push against us, and if we didn’t want to end up on the ground again, we had to keep moving forward. I pulled Freya closer as we started to move, but Barnaby darted away before I could grab his collar and ran on ahead. I just had to hope that we caught up with him soon, preferably before he got frustrated and bit someone.

  The crowd swarmed north for several more blocks before it slowed enough that Freya and I could finally step out of the flow without getting knocked down. We found ourselves huddling in a doorway with a few other escapees as we watched the mob slow down and start to dissipate.

  “Barnaby!” I yelled as I peered along the street.

  “Stupid dog,” Freya griped though I could see the worry in her eyes.

  I also saw the barest tip of a bunny ear, and as casually as I could, I
ran a reassuring hand across the mutant’s mass of hair and tucked the ear out of sight. Freya nodded, and while I scanned the street for the silver dog, she stepped into the shadows behind me and fluffed her hair.

  I called for the Weimaraner two more times before I finally heard an answering bark, but it was another full minute before the dog bounded into sight. Barnaby slipped through the human wall as easily as a fish in a stream, and the silver dog was soon by our side again. He barked again and wagged his tail, then turned back to face the crowd that had started to mill around the street.

  “We need to get back and make sure Sorcha and Charles are okay,” I said as I looked back toward the Tower Block.

  Unfortunately, all I could see was a mass of human bodies in the street and a few puffs of the pink cloud near the roof of the D.M. building. It was hard to get a sense of how far the crowd stretched or if it was even safe to approach the area yet.

  “What was that stuff?” Freya asked as she peered over my shoulder.

  “Weeper’s mist,” one of our fellow escapees replied. It was a woman with a circlet of silk flowers in her shoulder length brown hair and a pair of kind brown eyes.

  “Weeper’s mist?” I repeated.

  “It makes anyone exposed to it start to cry,” the woman explained. “If you’re really close, it can burn your throat, and you’ll keep coughing even when you don’t think you can cough anymore.”

  “I’ve never heard of it,” Freya responded from over my shoulder.

  “They make it at Branson Chemicals,” the woman said quietly. “It was only supposed to be used on mutants and such.”

  “Shhh,” one of the other escapees, a slim man with an anxious look, hissed. “They have ears everywhere.”

  “Gramps would go back to the hotel,” Freya whispered after several moments of silence.

  “I think we can get through the crowd now,” I replied, “but we’ll have to take a roundabout way to get back. I’m guessing the Tower Block area is one we should still avoid.”

  Freya nodded, and we stepped back into the street. The rabbit woman hung close to my side, and I saw her check her hair repeatedly, a sure sign that she was nervous without her hat to help hide her ears. I pulled her in close and tried to shield her as best as I could, though no one was really paying much attention to us. Barnaby hung close as well, and his growls cleared a path for us much more effectively than any amount of shoving or pushing would have done.