17. Jack
SEVENTEEN
JACK
The locomotive picked up momentum. It was now moving at the pace of a sprinting horse.
Jack felt air rush around his body at treacherous speeds.
He gripped the metal exterior of the locomotive’s lead cart with all his might.
His fingerless brown gloves pressed against the cold steel.
Slowly, Jack placed one hand in front of the other.
Easy, you can do this. One foot at a time. Slow and steady, this isn’t a race.
It was while Jack was giving himself this internal pep talk that he neglected to remember the mage-powered bicycles roaring around him.
A bullet buried itself in steel a few inches from his head.
Jack lost his footing and hung from the small ledge by his fingertips.
Jack knew he had only seconds before he fell.
It was funny actually, the things you think about before you’re going to die.
This is it. You’re going to fall and probably get run over by this huge piece of magical technology. You didn’t even get to use your new wand.
Jack’s fingers slipped. As he began to fall toward the rotating wheels, he felt a strong hand grab his own. The next second, he was vaulting up through the air. He landed next to Aareth on top of the locomotive.
“Easy there, Jack.” Aareth’s voice was calm. “This fight’s just getting started. Can’t have you falling to your death just yet.”
Jack tried to nod, but his whole body was shaking.
He looked up to see four figures running at them from the opposite side of the locomotive.
More men were jumping from their mage-powered bicycles onto the moving locomotive.
As the first wave of attackers came closer, Jack was able to get a better look at his adversaries.
They were all tall men and women dressed from head to toe in black.
Long trench coats streamed behind them while ebony masks covered their faces from the ridge of their noses down.
Steel flashed in all of their gloved hands.
They carried sabers that looked alarmingly similar to the one Sloan used to threaten Aareth in front of the Queen.
They charged forward. Before Jack could get his balance and stand on the moving locomotive, Aareth sprinted to meet the danger. His hands were blazing with the blue lines of magical matter that coursed over his gloves.
The first saber came down on Aareth in a high arc. Aareth caught the blade easily in his right gauntleted hand. There was a loud snap and the man carrying the sword was thrown off the top of the train with the force equivalent of a lightning strike.
The remaining three attackers paused for a moment as they rethought their plan of attack. Every muscle in their body told them to strike, but after seeing what happened to their friend, they were taking a moment to gain their bearings.
Aareth didn’t need a moment. With each fist landed, there was another loud cracking noise and figures dressed in black flew off the moving machine at alarming speeds.
All four assailants were dealt with within the space of a few seconds. Aareth looked back at Jack with a devilish grin. Jack heard shots ring out from somewhere inside the carts underneath him. Fear for his father’s safety made him glance down. An unfamiliar voice made him look up just as quickly.
A new enemy made himself known. He had climbed on top of the locomotive from somewhere inside a cart. He now stood between Jack and Aareth. “Interesting gloves. What do you do when the mage charge runs out?”
Jack looked at Aareth’s hands, and sure enough, the stored power had dissolved.
The stranger held a large gun the likes of which Jack had never seen. He quickly threw it to the side and off the locomotive.
“I don’t think I’ll be needing this for Ghost and a kid. Let’s make this interesting, shall we?”
Jack drew his wand. He pointed it at the man’s back. He had never killed an actual person before and there was an internal struggle now about the moral issue of shooting a man in the back. Not to mention a man that was unarmed.
“Jack, blast him!” Aareth yelled from two carts down. “Don’t hesitate. Kill him!”
“I have no weapons.” The stranger turned. He pulled the hood on his jacket over his head before removing his mask. He raised his hands to prove his statement. “I think you know the right thing to do, son.”
“Kill him, Jack!” Aareth yelled again. From behind the man, Jack could see Aareth crouched, winding the gears that stored the mage power in his gloves. “Kill him now!”
The man was only a few feet from Jack. He was as muscular as Aareth and nearly as tall. A scar ran down the right side of his pale face from temple to cheekbone.
“That’s an honorable boy.” He grinned, showing off pearly white teeth, his upper canines too long to be passed off as normal. “But you should have listened to Ghost. This isn’t going to go well for you.”
Before Jack could react, the scarred man sent out a wide left kick that knocked the wand from his hand.
The pain in his palm sent a tingling shock all the way up his arm.
The man turned in a complete circle and struck out with his opposite foot.
The power that collided with Jack’s chest was bone-breaking.
Jack flew through the air and landed on his back with a heavy crash.
Before he could gain his feet, the man was on top of him with a heavy boot at his throat.
“You really should have shot me, kid. Ghost was right.”
Jack pushed with both hands on the man’s boot. Air was coming in short gasps as every ounce of his strength went to pushing the man off. Jack knew he would have died there and then if it hadn’t been for Aareth.
The man with the scar quickly turned as the sound of running feet met both their ears. Aareth’s gloved hands were alive with the crackling magic. Aareth swung powerful arms just as before, but this time, every punch missed.
The pale man was faster than anything Jack had ever seen, human or animal. The man was even grinning as he ducked and weaved around Aareth’s punches.
“You should never have left New Hope,” the man said as he caught both of Aareth’s forearms just under the gloves.
“I think I’ll keep what little soul I have left,” Aareth grunted as he was forced to his knees.
The man bent the magical gloves toward Aareth. Inch by inch, he forced Aareth’s hands closer to his own face.
Jack watched all of this happen as he regained his breath and stood. He had never killed a man before and he didn’t know if he wanted to start now, but he also knew he couldn’t let Aareth die.
Wand gone, he willed the magic inside him to take physical form in his hands. It took an extreme amount of energy and concentration to create the blades he held now. Twin knives, four inches long dancing with the green flames of magic.
Whether it was the wind, Jack’s ability to stalk quietly, or luck, the scarred man didn’t hear him coming. Green knives gripped tightly in both hands, Jack launched himself through the air. He landed on the man’s back, planting both knives deep into his flesh just under his shoulder blades.
The man screamed in pain with a noise that would have made even a dying animal sound pleasant. The attacker loosened his grip on Aareth’s arms. Aareth seized the opportunity to plant both gauntlets on the man’s chest.
First, Jack felt a burning pain as the electric current ran through all three men. Then he felt nothing but blackness as he was rocketed into the air, off the locomotive, and down to the harsh desert floor below.