I ran.
My rifle was in my bedroom, hanging over my bed in the gun rack that my father had bought me. It seemed such an impractical and far place at the time. Mages were riding all around us. They had appeared over the hill in a wave and rushed down at us. Fire erupted at their call and our buildings had set ablaze without a hand set against them. One of them rode past me. His robe snapped in the wind and slapped me across the face, but he didn’t seem to notice me.
I charged into the house and through it. The rifle came easily into my hands and I loaded as quickly as able while returning to the chaos outside. Others had gone for guns; for then I could here the crack of the rifle’s scream. I stood on my porch and shot at them. One fell from his horse, but the others seemed to move through the rain of bullets as if specters. I jammed more bullets in. More shots echoed from my rifle. None of the other mages fell.
They were leaving then. One reached out and grabbed Richard by his collar and dragged him up onto the horse. I couldn’t understand why Richard didn’t fight them. He lay limply across the horse’s back as if dead. I aimed at his captor, but the bullets hit only the fluttering fabric that swirled around him. I ran after them with my rifle aimed. It clicked empty, but I pulled the trigger again.
I reloaded as I ran, loosing bullets on the ground. I stumbled and fell, struggled to my feet and ran again, firing at their now distant backs.
“Jonathan!”
Hands lay heavy upon my shoulders and pulled the rifle from my grasp.
“No!”
I knew I had at least one more shot. I tried to snatch the rifle back, but Austin shook me.
“Jonathan, their gone.”
His voice was softer now and close to my ear.
“No!”
I turned and looked at him.
“They took Richard! We have to help him!”
“We will, but their gone now.”
I screamed at him. He pulled me to him and I wept against his chest.
“We will get him back,” Austin promised.
