The Wizard Killer - Season One: A Post-Apocalyptic Fantasy Serial (5 page)

episode nine

There’s nothing like being wrenched from sublime slumber and thrust into the land of the awake by a boot to the face.

As I roll over on the road, I feel hands trying to yank my shirt off my head. Getting to all fours, I glance up. There are three blurry forms moving about, at least one of them is laughing at me.

I wipe my bloody face. My nose is just short of broken, but that won’t stop me from breaking each of theirs or worse.
 

As I get up, they spread out. One of them has her hands down and free, another’s got a knife, and third’s got their hands behind their back. They’re dressed in dark dusky pants, and matching hooded shirts that tied in the front. They’ve probably been working together for a bit, learned some lessons the hard way.

One of them winds up for another kick. I start backing up, playing it as if I’m wobbly. I dart sideways and catch the leg, and though I want to twist and break it, my body has no idea what to do. Under the hood I see a blond haired woman with a scarred face. As I stand there like an idiot, she lands a punch to my jaw and I drop to my knees.

She laughs and says something I don’t understand, then backs up.

Looking up at her, I rub my jaw. A nibble of fruit and a slurp of water, and I let myself come undone. I see the trunk behind them. Glancing down, I confirm that my sword and pistol are missing. I’m furious with myself. “Nice job, idiot,” I mutter under my breath.
 

Studying them for a second, I realize they could have killed me in my sleep, but didn’t. Maybe they wanted to have some fun, maybe they’re looking for a new member of their crew.
 

Not having a better plan, I figure I might as well let them think that I’m done, and track them later. I drop to the ground and pretend I’ve passed out.
 

Through the thinnest of eye slits, I watch as they debate and then pick up my trunk and start walking off. Just as they start to pass out of sight, I panic. “Oh freaking Mother of Mercy, I don’t know how to track anymore!” Scrambling to my feet, I glance about for Randmon, whispering to him. He’s not here. Maybe he caught a ride on the trunk. For a second, I wonder if I just imagined him and then shake off the thought. I’ve got to get moving. It doesn’t take long for them to notice me.

The tallest one of them immediately turns, their hands disappearing behind their back again. Frowning, I remember I didn’t get a peek at what that one’s hiding. It could be some real trouble. “Hey!” I yell at them, waving. Yeah, the crazy man wants more. No way I’m letting you guys leave me with absolutely nothing in the middle of this place.

They start talking to each other as I slowly approach. I must look like a real prize: bloody shirt around my head, tanned skin, ratty beard, a mop of shoulder length hair, and wild, driven eyes. I wasn’t a threat when they ambushed me, and I’m sure they’re trying to figure out if I’m one now. Maybe they’re debating if I could be of some value. Just let me get a little closer, I’ll show you some value.

As I walk towards them, the shortest one approaches. It’s not the leader, judging by the body language of the other two. I keep my hands palm up until I’m close enough to recognize it’s the blond. Like a kid bolting with a stolen prize, I knock her flat with my shoulder and dash past. I catch a glimpse of her head whipping around, a look of frustrated surprise on her face.
 

As the tall one pulls a small crossbow out, his hood slips back. The guy’s a real piece of work, broken nose and brown hair that looks like it was cut by a blind man with the shakes. I’m able to close the gap before he’s got the bolt loaded, and I plow into him, sending him crashing to the ground and the crossbow skidding along the ground. With both fists, I hammer down on his chest, leaving him winded.
 

The leader’s one step ahead of me, and has my pistol pointing straight at my head. Her hood’s sitting back enough that I can see the woman clearly, and there’s something about her eyes that tell me she knows what she’s holding.
Can she use it
is a question I’m not eager to answer.
 

Screw it, I decide to go for broke and charge her.

She’s about to shoot when she lowers the pistol and stares at me in disbelief. “Weslek?”

I skid to a stop and stare at her, panting. Weslek? What’s… wait, that means something. Maybe it’s my name?
 

“Weslek?” she asks insistently, her hand outstretched and hovering inches from my chest.

The other two are up and itching to take me down. Licking my lips, I smile and nod at the leader.

She gives me a friendly slap on the arm, the others relax.

I have no idea who this woman is.

episode ten

As we start walking down into the valley, the leader points to a levi-car left by a tree and says something. We all start heading toward it. The closer we get, the more I keep asking myself why they left it there, it looks like it’s levitating just fine. Ah, I see why. The scratch marks on the front and the dent.
 

Standing back as they strap the trunk on the back and chat, I glance around. There’s no danger around, so I’m willing to bet that when magic stopped, they lost control and hit the tree.
 

Thinking of magic, I look up at the greying sky. Something about it and the diffused rays of the sun remind me of something… a floating city. I’ve seen one, in a sky like this. Seen the magic driven machines, keeping it aloft. I wonder what happened to it, the first time magic failed? No magic, no connecting to the mana of the world, and no natural conversion from life force to mana and back.
 

 
“Weslek!” yells the guy, wrenching my attention to the present. He motions for me to get in the levi-car’s backseat with him. I get in.

It’s a bit cramped and less comfortable than I expect, but the idea of not beating my feet into a thin paste is more than welcome.

The leader starts the levi up. It shakes and rises like a drunk standing up. The engine sounds worse for wear, under the out of sync warbling noises there’s a deep hum. Once we start moving, I don’t care.

Before I know it, I drift off. It feels like I’ve only been asleep for a few minutes when my head roughly smacks against the side of the levi. I barely have time to duck my head and cover it with my arms before the car flips over and slides. Smashed glass flies around all of us.
 

Something tells me it’s not magic failing this time.

episode eleven

My head’s spinning. Squinting at the sky, I see that it’s dusk. One of the women is moaning in the front seat. I can’t turn my head to see the guy, but he’s not making any noise. That’s not good.

A quick check tells me nothing’s broken, but everything hurts. There’s some blood from somewhere, but I’m not overly concerned. Still, I’d like to get my hands on my short sword and make sure. Unable to see it, I decide to crawl out on my hands and knees; shards of glass bite me for the privilege, drawing some crimson tax as I pass over them.
 

I can hear something large approaching, so I stay low and scan the surroundings. We’re on yet another dirt road with a dense forest on one side and green fields on the other. There are no weapons lying nearby the crashed levi-car, and judging by the scratch-thump sound of whatever’s heading our way, I’m going to need some help. My hands are already slick with sweat.

I poke my head back in and see the leader stirring. Picking through the tossed debris, I still don’t find my pistol or sword. There’s a distinctive screech from behind me and my blood runs. “carn?” Then comes a second one, its pitch just different enough to make my heart skip a beat. Wiping my face, I stare at the ground. “What did I do to deserve
two
?”
 

A few seconds later, they lumber into view. Their orange and white flames are burning brightly, and their mage-skulls seem to be almost sliding back and forth on their black necks. One of them notices me and its skull’s eyes light up. It’s got a burnt, black scorch mark on its chest.

A fatalistic laugh escapes me and I hang my head. “I guess I’m at the top of your revenge list. Nice to know it’s personal,” I say, shaking my head. I grab the leader and shake her vigorously until she smacks my hands away. A glint of a small knife in the backseat. Thank you, carn, for the extra light.
 

Heaving the unconscious guy aside, I reach over and grab the knife. In a blink, I’m outside, cutting the straps off the trunk, thankfully to have the levi between me and the two carnu.

Tossing aside some of their things, I grab my pistol and short sword. Randmon’s in there too, nibbling something. He stops and looks up at me.
 

“Okay, come on,” I say, picking him up and putting him on my shoulder. Crouching down and leaning against the levi-car, I try to come up with a plan that doesn’t involve running as fast as I can and simply hoping that the scarred carn kills them first, instead of chasing after me. “I know it’ll come after me, and that’s why it’s a bad plan,” I tell Randmon.
 

Sometimes that little guy gets on my nerves, the little know-it-all. Stroking the middle of my forehead with my pistol, I realize I’ve got nothing else, other than a slightly less stupid plan. If the others don’t get up soon, we’re all going to burn. “Okay, what do you think? Go for it? Just whose side are you on?” Randmon jumps down.

Poking my head into the back of the levi-car, I tell them, “Get up. I’m going to distract them. You’ve got one shot to get out.”

I close my eyes and try to connect with that pressure in my chest, but it’s not there; not even a hint of pain. I chew on my lip wondering if maybe I’m just getting more used to it. It hurt like a yigging donkey kick in the chest at first, then it was just pressure. Maybe it’s there. No time like the present to find out.

With a nod to Randmon, I bolt for the forest, yelling to get the carnu’s attention. I don’t have to look to know that they’re staring at me, wondering what I’m doing. I run a dozen yards into the trees before sliding to the ground and peeking back at what’s happening.

The new carn is heading for me, glancing about to see if it’s a trap. But then the scarred one grabs it by the shoulder and growls and clicks at it. They’ve got a language… a freaking language. I bang my head against the dirt… freaking smart walking nightmares. My gut tells me the carnu are going to make sure the others are dead before hunting me down. They don’t want to get outflanked.

Kneeling, I see that I’ve unconsciously used the short sword to heal my wounds. I better be careful with that; I don’t remember how to recharge the yigging thing.
 

I plant the sword in the dirt and take the pistol in both hands. With one eye closed, I try to focus my aim but it feels like my hands are just having fun mocking me. I watch the pistol tracking all over the place. Taking a steadying breath, I pull the trigger. Nothing happens. Mother of Mercy, can’t something go my way? There’s nothing going on inside me. How does this stupid thing work?

The scarred carn growls and they take up positions around the levi. Hoping I’ve given the others enough time, I pick up my sword and turn to the toppled levi-car. The leader’s standing on top of it, her hood pulled back. She’s got a bloody nose, a bleeding cheek, and fiery red eyes. With well-practiced calm, she’s gesturing delicately and precisely in the air, mouthing words. An image of standing in a stone hall with dozens like her doing the same thing flashes in my mind. Who is she?