Light in the Barren Lands: Travail of The Dark Mage Book One (33 page)

“There was a job to do. We answered the ad. I believe I was the only one to have survived.”

“What kind of job?”

“To prevent the end of the world.” His ability to consciously form his answers grew, though deception continued to be beyond his reach.

Seth’s father laughed. “You expect me to believe this? What kind of idiot do you take me for?”

“An ignorant one.”

Whack!

“Insolent bastard!” Downing the rest of the liquor, he threw the bottle across the kitchen where it smashed against the wall.

Motion from a side entrance caught James’ attention. A little face peered around the fridge.
Jira!
He was not alone. Then he saw her draw a knife from the knife rack and step toward the man.

In the language of Jiron’s world, he purposely slurred his words as he said, “Back off, Jira.”

“What was that?” asked Seth’s dad.

James saw the small figure retreat out of sight.

“What did you say?” Coming to stand directly in front of his captive, Seth’s father grabbed him by the hair and yanked his head back until their gazes met.

“I said…” and again slurring his speech, he said in the language of another world, “Back off, Jira.”

Whack!

James wondered what the man thought he had said. “I’m sorry about Seth.”

Letting go of his hair, Seth’s father picked up a long carving knife. “Not as sorry as you are about to be.”

Jira poked her face around the fridge again and saw the man threatening her uncle with a knife. She gripped one in her hand too, and thought about her chances of successfully attacking. But then a memory came of a time she played Kill the Deer with her father.

Sometimes they altered the rules of the game. In one case, when she was the Deer, she had to reach a specific objective without being killed. Jira remembered how a noise her mother had made in another room had drawn her father away. Perhaps such a thing could be done here?

Leaving the kitchen, she quickly ran to the back room. There, she found a small wooden stool and chucked it at a window before turning and racing back the way she had come. Upon hearing the stool shatter the window, she ducked into a closet and closed the door until only a small crack remained.

Footsteps hurrying down the hallway announced the approach of the man. She could hear him mumbling to himself as he went to see about the commotion. Once he was past, she slipped out of the closet and raced back to the kitchen where her uncle was being held.

“Jira,” her uncle said as she came into view. “Where’s your father?”

“I don’t know. He sent me after you.” Moving to his side, she began cutting through his bonds with her knife.

Jiron’s not here? Then where…?
No time for such questions. “Never mind that, Jira.” From the back room came the shout of Seth’s father. “I know you’re here!
Show yourself!”
Doors began slamming as he began searching the house for the one who broke the window.

Jira continued trying to saw through the plastic ties securing him to the chair. “Jira!” Drawing her attention from the ties to him, he said, “This will do no good.” Already, the sound of Randle’s searching had drawn closer to the kitchen.
He had to think!

“His gun! He had a gun at the motel. Do you remember me explaining what a gun was?”

“Like a small crossbow? But without the bolt?”

“Exactly. It’s hard, heavy, and about the size of both your hands put together.” Footsteps approached. “Find it!”

Jira fled the kitchen seconds before Seth’s father appeared from the hallway. “Who you got working with you? Is it that partner of yours from the motel?” Glancing around the kitchen, he missed James’ reply of
“No,”
as he sought James’ accomplice. Not seeing anyone, the man, still clutching the carving knife, approached James. “Where is he?”

James didn’t reply as there was no “he.” It seemed the truth serum didn’t force him to volunteer information that wasn’t specifically asked for. As for his own volition, he kept stubbornly quiet.

The man grabbed his hair and pulled his head back. Bringing the knife to rest against his jugular, he shouted. “Show yourself! Or I’ll kill him right now!”

Jira understood somewhat about what a gun was. She had heard her father and uncle discuss them on more than one occasion during their brief time upon her uncle’s world. Deciding the best place to look for the weapon would be in the front room, she fled in that direction from the kitchen.

Her eyes searched the room as the man entered the kitchen and began speaking to her uncle once again. Though unable to understand the words, their meaning was clear. Her uncle was in trouble. She had to be brave like her mother!

Not finding the gun, she thought that perhaps the man had left it in the truck. So, unable to use the front door since it was within visual range of the kitchen and thus her egress may be observed, she raced through the house until coming to another way out. A window was left opened in a side room.

Squirreling her way through, she then raced to the truck and pulled upon the door handle just like she had when getting into the car her uncle had driven. As the door opened, there was a loud squeal from its hinges.

She pulled hard and the door swung open to its fullest. Then she saw it. Lying on the seat was an object looking very much like the guns her uncle had talked about. Picking it up off the seat, she thought it looked rather boxy, but it did have the trigger mechanism that was on a real crossbow. It was hard and was a little heavy. This had to be it!

Then the front door of the house slammed open and the man stood framed in the doorway. Their eyes met. “It’s the brat!”

Jira squealed, dropped to the ground, and rolled beneath the truck.

Seth’s father ran forward shouting, the carving knife still very much in hand.

She didn’t stop rolling until she emerged out the other side. Then, coming to her feet, she ran. The man appeared around the back of the truck and took off after her. The
Deer
was in trouble. The
Deer’s
only hope was to lose the
Hunter
in the dark.

Darting around the back of the house, fear giving speed to her flight, she almost stumbled into a stacked pile of firewood. Dodging the obstacle, she saw a tree’s silhouette in the moonlight and raced for it.

The man was not nearly as graceful as she. Coming around the corner of the house in pursuit, he slammed right into the woodpile, crashing to the ground amidst wood, bark, and a stream of curses. He quickly regained his feet.

Nothing moved in the dark. He stood silently, his gaze roving from one side of the yard to the other, ears alert for even the slightest sound. “You can’t hide from me!” he shouted to the dark. “I’ll find you.” Quiet for a moment to see if his words may have flushed out his prey, he then said, “And when I do, you’re dead!”

From behind the tree, Jira held motionless. She knew that even the smallest sound would give her away, as it had many times before with her father. After catching her when she was certain she had been quiet, he would explain that it was her breathing that gave her away. So along with keeping still, Jira worked at keeping her breathing easy and quiet. Not an easy thing to do under such circumstances.

Silence filled the yard. Other than the odd crunch of dirt beneath the man’s foot whenever he shifted position, the only other sound Jira could hear was the pounding of her heart. She was certain its beat was so loud that it must assuredly give her away.

A minute passed, then two. When she finally heard the man’s footsteps moving off, she bravely peered around the side of the tree. She saw the man returning to the front of the house, apparently giving up on finding her. Jira waited until he disappeared completely, then emerged and made her way to the back of the house.

In the moonlight she saw the rectangular shape of the rear door and crept toward it. Ears alert for any sign of the return of the man, she reached the door. Pausing a moment, she listened. Failing to hear anything, she reached for the door. Gripping the handle, she turned it slowly until it could turn no more. Then she slowly pulled the door open.

Wham!

A kick from the inside flew the door open. The sudden opening caught her off-guard and the door slammed into her, knocking her back several feet to land unceremoniously on her rump.

“Aha!” A light appeared in the man’s hand and she was framed in its brilliance. “Thought you could outsmart old Chuck, did you?”

Jira quickly got back to her feet and ran.

Chuck laughed as the light continued following her wherever she went. Dodging around trees, running back to the front, it didn’t matter where she went, the Deer couldn’t escape the light. Finally, upon reaching the front door, she darted inside and slammed it shut behind her. Throwing the bolt, she raced for the kitchen.

James had been listening to her flight, dreading to hear that fateful scream when Seth’s father finally caught up with her. Impotent rage filled him. Mind too fogged to summon the magic and tied to the chair, all he could do was listen. Relief filled him when he saw her dart in though the open door and slam it shut. Then once she locked it, she ran toward him.

In her hands was held not a gun, but a strange contraption James had never seen, though he quickly realized what it was. A stun gun. A Taser.

Bam!

A blow from the other side of the front door cracked the jamb, but the door held.

“Quickly!” James urged as she came closer. “Cut through the tie.”

She laid the Taser in his lap and picked up the knife she had discarded earlier after her previous attempt.

Wham!

The front door gave way beneath the blow and flew from its hinges. Framed in the doorway was Seth’s father. Carving knife held like a scene right out of
Psycho
, he charged forward.

Jira sawed vigorously at the tie, in her desperation inadvertently leaving shallow furrows along her uncle’s forearm. Seth’s father reached the kitchen just as the tie parted. James immediately grabbed the Taser sitting in his lap, aimed, and fired.

Two prongs shot forth, embedding themselves into the man’s chest. As the Taser sent electricity coursing into his body, Chuck crashed to the floor. James allowed the Taser to pump juice into the man for several more seconds before releasing the trigger. Immediately, Seth’s dad stopped thrashing.

“Here,” he said, swapping the Taser for Jira’s knife. “If he moves, pull the trigger.”

“Yes, uncle.” Keeping her eyes fixed upon the man on the floor, she held her finger upon the trigger. She jumped an inch when the man jerked again, but then realized she had accidentally pressed the trigger and had been the cause of the motion.

Cutting through the tie on his other hand, James then went to work on the ones securing his legs. Once they were free, he tried to stand but the drug was still in effect and suffered a wave of dizziness that almost caused him to fall. Only by catching himself on a nearby table did he avoid tumbling to the floor. A few deep breaths and the spinning of the room was reduced to little more than mild fluctuations.

“Are you going to kill him?”

Turning his gaze to his niece, he shook his head. “No, though I am sorely tempted.” Taking short, non-equilibrium affecting steps, he came to stand before Seth’s father. Then, very carefully, he knelt down by his head.

“I won’t kill you. Not because of any sense of right or wrong about such an act, but because of a debt I feel I owe Seth. Yes, I was there in the moments prior to his death. My cowardice kept me from offering any sort of aid to your son. Whether or not such aid as I could have given would have made any difference, I guess we’ll never know. But, I did
not
kill him. I was not the one that enticed him to the forest with the promise of a job. That was another.”

Seth’s father’s eyes flicked to his as he lay there on the kitchen floor.

“But this I promise. If I should ever see you again, that will be the last day of your life. Understand?” Gazing at the way the skin around his eyes tightened, James added, “Yes, I think you do.”

Returning to his feet, he held out his hand for the Taser. “We’ll take this with us. It might come in handy.” Then after sending one last jolt of power to the man on the floor, he pulled the barbs from Chuck’s chest and gathered the wires. “I’ll figure out how to put this back together later,” he mumbled to himself.

Then he held out a hand for Jira to come help him maintain his balance as they made their way through the house and out to the truck. The keys were still in the ignition. “Help me in.”

Jira came and gave her uncle a boost into the cab before running around and climbing in on the other side.

As James started the truck, Jira asked, “I did good didn’t I, uncle?”

James nodded. “Yes, Jira. You did very good. Your father will be pleased.” She was smiling as her uncle put the truck into gear and began driving away. She had accomplished what her father had set her to do. She had rescued her uncle. Now, together with her uncle, they would rescue her father!

Chapter Twenty

________________________

“What do you mean he…?”

Reining in his anger, Agent Randle took note of the stares his outburst had created among his colleagues. Keeping his cell phone close, he sat down at his desk and spoke in a whisper. “What do you mean he escaped?”

“A, ummm, dozen of his friends followed us here and overpowered me,” Agent Randle’s brother explained. “There was nothing I could do.”

Holding the phone before him, his anger almost got the better of him before he got it back under control. Returning it to his ear, he hunkered down and whispered, “Sounds like you’ve been drinking again.”

“I haven’t touched a drop!”