With fresh powder crunching readily under Flitter's hooves as she trotted away from the local bed and breakfast, she felt a pang of guilt strike high in her chest. What if Jack's still mad at me? She shook the thought off, and once again picked up her hooves and carried on. He won't be. I know he won't be. Having had stayed away the past day from both Jack and her family, Flitter felt a nervous misplaced confidence as she hit the path that led from town to the woods. In her mind, she ran over how she would approach Jack; no matter how many times she tossed words around, they all had a hollow ring to them.

As she was about to cross the threshold of the forest, Flitter ran muzzle first into an unexpected acquaintance. Rubbing his muzzle lightly, Field Note glanced upwards with a half glare at the mare that he'd run into. The half glare turned to a pleasantly surprised smile when he recognised Flitter. Dusting off his own chest, he offered her a hoof up. “Well, good morning to you too Miss Flitter!” The Batpony shuffled in his thick parka; his mane a home for tiny icicles.

A smile of her own spread across Flitter's muzzle as she accepted the hoof and was hauled up. “Morning Field. Grabbing supplies?” She looked over his sagging empty bags, and earned a sheepish smile in return from the seemingly nervous stallion.

“Well, yes, but I had planned to get some coffee first.” He paused momentarily, his slitted eyes flicking back to her. “You… would you mind joining me? My treat, of course.” Field pawed lightly at the snow as he waited for her response.

Taken aback, Flitter considered the idea. If I don't and Jack's still mad, I miss coffee. If I do and Jack isn't mad, he’ll hardly notice. And… well… I wouldn't mind chatting with Field for a few minutes, he seems like a nice stallion. Smiling to him, Flitter nodded. “I'd like that. Lead the way Mr. Note.”

A surprised, pleased smile spread across his masculine features as he offered a parka bound leathery wing to her. “Right this way.”

________________________________________________________________

The iron train wheels clacked and clattered as they passed over the final mile of track; Ponyville’s limits coming into view to the group that rested in the front most car of the short train. The train housed a number of cages and branding tools, as well as medical supplies and crew quarters. On a good day, it could safely transport upwards of sixty average sized humans. A small steel coloured unicorn mare with a cage and net cutiemark stood before the eight other assorted professional human wranglers. She gestured to a forested area on a large hanging map. “Alright gents, get your game faces on. Bossman got a tip of a human tribe squatting in Whitetail Woods.” The mare took the extra time to pronounce the name properly through her thick trottingham prole accent. “Simple bag and tag, but watch out for the alpha! He's supposed to be a mean bastard, attacked a mare recently.” The mare smiled at her crew as the train slowed to a stop at the station and the crew all stood and started stowing tools and weapons while she said into her dull white coveralls. “Let's go get paid ladies!”

_________________________________________________________________

Field and Flitter sat down in one of the corner booths; giving themselves a lovely view of the snow filled streets and serene township. Cups of coffee steamed away before their hooves as they both searched for words. Swallowing nervously, Field made himself appear relaxed as he sipped his scalding coffee. “So, Miss Flitter-”

Flitter held up a hoof and smiled at him kindly. “You can call me Flitter, everypony else does.”

Chuckling lightly, Field nodded. “Alright. Flitter, how are you?” He smiled appreciatively as he spoke with her. “You seemed troubled this morning.

Sinking into her seat, Flitter sighed quietly. “I don't think I can answer that honestly. So, I'm doing fine enough. Oh, hey, I almost forgot to ask.” Flitter sat up in her seat. “Do you think I could work with you? You know, documenting the tribe and Jack.”

Field blinked in surprise, before answering with a smile. “I think we can work something out Flitter. Your ability to keep Jack stable would be more than enough to warrant it, and your artistry will certainly be more than helpful.”

“I don't think anyone in the right mind can safely call Jack ‘stable’.” Flitter forced the thoughts from her mind as she offered a hoof to Field, who took it and shook. “I look forward to working with you.”

Thoughtfully sipping his coffee, Field chanced a glance out the window to the snow covered streets. “How is Jack? He seemed unhappy last I saw him.”

Shaking her head slowly as she looked down at her inky black coffee, Flitter sighed softly. “I'm sure he's fine.”

_________________________________________________________________

“Stop fighting me!” The blue haired woman ducked behind the kitchens island as a collection of empty bottles whipped past and smashed against the cheap wood cupboards. “I'm trying to help you!”

The final bottle in the box smashed violently against the fridge door, spraying brown tinted glass across the linoleum floors. The blue haired woman shielded her face from the shower as Jack searched for the next thing to throw at her. Stalling for time, he peeked out from the top of the overturned couch. “Get the hell out of my head, you blue haired succubus!” A fleeting feeling of regret struck before he opened his TV stand and started whipping DVD cases at the intruder.

The big steel boxed collector's edition of Stargate SG-1 hit the woman square in the chest as she moved to vault over the kitchen island, throwing her off balance and sending her back down in a wheezing heap. Seeing his chance, Jack bolted for his room; his intent laying on the pistol tucked soundly under his pillow. His boot falls were soon outmatched by the much faster pitter patter of barefeet on the apartments cheap hardwood flooring. As he burst into the room and dove for his gun, the woman tackled his legs out from under him. Scrambling for purchase on the silky sheets, Jack let out an interrupted curse as they fell into a heap beside the bed. Straddling his chest as she held his arms down, the woman panted with exertion as he tried to worm free from her ridiculously strong grip. Shaking her head, the woman shot him a glare of annoyance. “Just-” She paused to catch her breath. “-stop. fighting. You were amicable before, why have you decided me to be your enemy?”

Still struggling against her grip, Jack contorted his body until it seemed impossibly uncomfortable to the lunar diarch that struggled to keep him pinned down. “So you can lock my ass up and experiment on me!? Fuck no!” His legs twisted, until he managed to hook a leg around her neck. The woman let out a surprised yelp that was cut short as he scissored his legs together, toppling her over and freeing himself from the pin. “You ain’t getting me, or Delta King! Yah hear me!?” Jack pushed himself free just as Luna twisted out of his pin.

“I don’t want to capture you or your Delta King, I want to help you!” She grit her teeth in annoyance as she struggled to keep the weapon between them.

“That’s exactly what someone trying to capture me and my nuke would say!” Jack threw a pillow into the woman’s face, before diving for the snub nosed revolver. To his dismay, the gun moved beyond his grasp as Luna yanked on the sheet and went for the gun as well. Jack yelled as he slid across the silky sheets to tackle her to the floor. “Oh no you don’t!” The pair ended up entangled, smacking and slapping at each other ineffectively as they scrambled for the gun. Balling her dainty fists in frustration, Luna struck Jack upside the head in hopes of knocking sense into him. She only succeeded in striking flush against his ear. Yelling in surprise, Jack clutched his wounded head. “Mmmotherfucker! Yah hit me in the ear!”

Blinking in surprise, Luna pulled her hands away and quirked a brow at him in latent confusion. “I’m… sorry?”

Clutching his ear with pain twisted features, Jack continued to curse. “Ah, christ! Why the ear?”

“I only wanted to knock sense into you! Now tell me where you are, or I will find Flitter and ask her!” Luna flushed at the cheeks as Jack seemingly ignored her and continued to make faces. “Are thou even-!” The rest of her question was turned into painfully expelled air as Jack pistoned his balled up fist into her taut pale stomach. The princess wheezed in pain and surprise as he rolled off her and commando crawled to his firearm. By the time she managed to pull her projected form back together, Jack was crouched above her, the small black revolver clutched in his hand.

The hammer clicked back as he leveled it with her. “Sorry princess. Gotta trust Mark on this one.” When the hammer fell, the unwanted dream exploded, and dumped him unceremoniously off his bed and onto the hard rock below. Jack grunted “huark…” as he groaned weakly, and laid on the floor for a long few minutes. Mark’s voice echoes inside his head as he stared at the rocks and dirt up close.

You did good. Real good. The Royals will do anything to get their hooves on Delta King. Find a good place to hide it Jackie boy, she wasn’t joking when she said she’d go to Flitter to get to you.

Jack slowly pushed himself up into a pained sitting position. He found himself thinking back at the voice in his head. Flitter wouldn’t sell me out.

What makes you so sure? You haven’t seen her for two days now. Who’s to say she hasn’t already sold you out? You know how much you’re worth. How much is Delta King worth to a psychotic tyrant who turns innocents to stone and banishes family for a thousand years? Is your trust in her worth that much?

Leaving the question unanswered in thought, Jack slowly got to his feet and groaned as his limbs protested loudly. Acting on autopilot, he pulled on his sweater and retrieved his folding entrenching tool. The small suitcase sized thermonuclear weapon was next, tucked away in its protective sheath his plate carrier, along with his revolver. Throwing the exoskeleton over himself, Jack’s eyes shot open wide in pain as the exo burrowed in. His plugs burned and spread anguish through his entire body as if he'd stuck his hand in a garbage disposal. Ripping the skeleton off, Jack discarded it onto his bed, where his PDA sat untouched. He stumbled out of the cave and into the snow, intent on burying the nuke somewhere dark and quiet.

The plate carrier was sized to fit snugly over his thick armour, so when through over his own chest, it hung loosely and dangled as he struggled to resize the straps as he walked. His boots sank deep into the snow, slowing his progress to a painful degree. His trudge continued on to the human camp, where his thoughts caught up with him. What if Field wants to talk? I can't let him know what I'm doing. What if he just follows?... What if he sold me out? Jack shook his head and stopped for a moment to rub the bridge of his nose; as if the action would hold back the migraine that was threatening.

A welcoming chirp of recognition sounded out, and several of the humans plodded through the snow to greet him. Jack smiled weakly as he waved to them. Now these guys, they won't sell me out. Akasha approached him slowly, clad in her warm furs. The woman nuzzled at him lightly, and earned a gentle rub behind the neck that caused her to press up against him in an eager attempt to coax more out of him. Smirking to himself, Jack looked out over the other humans and felt the niggling of narcissistic pride begin to take root. That's right, your lord and saviour has returned.

Plodding passed the camp, he slowly surveyed the surrounding woods for a decent place to bury his WMD. Spying a small copse of trees that had suffered a lack of snowfall, Jack set his course and entered. Nodding to himself, he plunged the entrenching tool deep into the frozen ground, and started digging as deep as his muscles would allow. Only when he heard an angered squawk and rapid chirping did he look away from his hole in the ground. The glance up saved his life; barely rolling his head out of the way of Algeron’s wood club. Motherfucker! The brute roared at him with primal fury, and swung the club again and again. Scampering out of the heavy swing’s radius, Jack clutched his entrenching tool and bared his sharp teeth at the ex-alpha.

Before Algeron could close the distance again, Akasha pounced on the bullish man’s back and grabbed at his face in an attempt to keep him from braining Jack with a bit of wood. The tall woman let out a sudden yelp of pain, before Algeron threw her down to the ground. As Jack closed the distance, the brute let out a surprised howl and slapped at his back. Taking advantage of the distraction, whatever it was; Jack cracked the shovel across Algeron’s face, earning a line of bright red blood and flying teeth for the effort. Bowling the woozy man over, Jack snarled at him and slammed the flat of the shovel down onto his head again, eliciting a loud metallic twang that played over the sound of crunching cartilage. Before a third strike could be brought down, Jack felt a painful sting strike his bicep. Glancing down, his fury ebbed to confusion as he stared at a little dart with a red feathered tail.

What?

Jack pushed himself up as vertigo slammed into him like a train. Thankfully, his prosthetic legs responded perfectly and sent him careening into the cover of trees as his upper body slowly stopped responding properly. Fuck. Fuck. FUCK. A second sting struck high on his shoulder, causing his sluggish movements to catch a fallen log that lay hidden in the snow. With barely enough energy to push himself up and away from the facial imprint he'd left in the snow, Jack rolled into cover behind the log and struggled to unclasp the revolver from its concealed holster.

As darkness edged his vision, hooves crunched through fresh powder towards him. A small mare with a horn and dull white coveralls peered into his eyes. “You're a weird one, ain'tcha?” She lifted her head and gestured at someone Jack could see. “Come get this one in a cage. Team Fox, take care of the rest of the tribe.”

Fury coursed through Jack's veins as he glared at the mare vehemently. THEY SOLD ME OUT! On instinct, his free hand shot out and clamped down around her throat like a vice; the mare's eyes went wide with surprise and fear as she stared down at the avatar of fury unbridled. The snub nosed barrel of his revolver belched thunder and flames; a spray of vibrant equine blood arced out as Jack forced himself to toss the now limp body aside, sit up, and take aim at his next target.

Somebody yelled a warning, and the forest seemed alive in a flurry of motion and fur. “Hit him with another dart! Take him down!” The .44 magnum boomed again, blowing a wide hole in a thick tree instead of the head Jack had been aiming for. Another dull sting spread across his chest, and the world went black.

________________________________________________________________

Hearing came back first, then smell. He’d wished that neither of them had. A wave of nausea hit him hard as human screeches and terrified chirps flooded in alongside the smell of blood and shit. Dull pain had spread through his entire body; it felt like he was crammed inside of a tiny box. The muted clatter of iron train wheels echoed in the background against the sounds of human suffering. Groggily cracking an eye open, Jack found himself stuffed into a cage; the little metal bars were leaving bright red indentations in his flesh. Realization struck when he realized that he’d been stripped from the waist up. No. Nonono. This… shit! FUCK! That traitorous little CUNT! Jack snarled in anger and forced his way into a slightly more sound position. Okay, okay. Figure a way out of here, find nuke, find gun, get revenge. Looking down, Jack's eyes locked onto the small brass lock that held his cage door shut. A furtive glance in either direction confirmed he was surrounded by other cages; most of which held humans. He could see ponies approaching, and doing something in each cage that was followed by a wail of pain. Adrenaline spiked through his heart as Jack twisted his body back around the other way, ignoring the pain it caused. Now or never! His heavy metal boot pistoned into the door, causing the metal to warp and twist. He brought both boots down next, and began hammering away until the screech of twisted, broken metal met his ears. Next came the yelling.

“The weird one’s busting the door! Somepony get a prod on him!” A sparking prod was jammed through the bars, and dumped seven thousand volts into Jack's side. With a roar of defiance, his legs shot out one last time, and took the door right off its hinges. The pony with the cattle prod yelped in pain as the shattered metal smashed into his face, knocking the prod away. Scrambling out on tingling limbs, Jack hit the floor and fell to his knees. He almost immediately started skidding across the flooring as the train hit an incline. Snatching the cattle prod away from the bleeding pony, Jack took a deep steadying breath and braced himself, before furtively casting his eyes around for the things he needed. Nuke. Gun. Exit.

“Hey, Freak!” A female voice called out at him from the front of the train. Twisting on his heels, Jack turned to face the voice. His eyes narrowed in hazy recognition as he glared at the horned mare, whose face now had a deep .44 magnum furrow dug from her muzzle to her ear. “We got a score to settle, human.” Her horn lit up, and a bolt of energy lanced out from the tip. Jack’s eyes went wide with confusion and bewilderment, and then horror as the bolt struck him high in the chest and sent him cartwheeling down the inclining cars. Sliding passed cages and slavers, Jack snarled in anger and cursed up a long line inside his head on what he was going to do with the mare when he got back up to her. Hitting the rear of the train, Jack stood and shook his senses back into place; the slaver at the back seemed surprised to suddenly have a six foot two human glaring at him, wielding a cattle prod . Jamming the cattle prod under the pony’s chin, Jack hugged the wall and peered out, trying to find his target as the colourful equine hit the floor and foamed at the mouth as he convulsed. The mare jabbed a hoof at him as she approached; a large number of slavers behind her. “You goin’ nowhere freak! I’m gonna brand those fancy inks right off your hide!” Jack’s stomach raised up into his throat as he realized the back door was blocked, and that the scarred mare had a red hot branding iron floating in her magic.

Okay, okay, calm. Think it out. There’s like… what, twelve of them, all in a tight, confined space? The horned ones can use magic, and I’ve got a cattle prod with god knows how many shots left…. The odds definitely weren’t good. Setting his jaw, Jack peeked out from behind the wall, and shot the mare a one fingered salute.

“GET HIM!”

Worth it.

The slavers charged him, and faint red magic wrapped around his outstretched arm, yanking him from cover. Letting out a viking cry of war, Jack pushed himself into the charging wall, fully intent on killing and maiming as many as he could get his hands on. Blood flew as he struck and smashed and bit and bludgeoned his way through as many as he could get his hands and boots on. Hooves smashed into his adrenaline fueled muscles, and cattle prods searched for open flesh to strike at. The fight ended as Jack gouged his fingers into the massive eye socket of some unknown pony; magic and cattle prods soon driving him to his knees and sending his body into a chilly numbness as he was held down against the floorboards. The scarred mare’s voice hissed next to his ear, but he couldn’t make out the words through the pounding blood in his ears. Above it all, he heard Mark laugh.

Well well Jackie boy, now you’ve done it. You’ve played your part, and oh what a show it was! The voice began to change in pitch and timber, until it was a bit more sadistic and high pitched. You fell for it all, hook, line, and sinker! It was too easy! Now, you’re FUCKED.

The red hot iron brand slammed down against his sweat slicked skin; violently intense pain flashed through his mind like red lightning, eliciting memories of his legs coming off at the seams as his flesh melted and twisted under the boiling metal. His scream of tortured pain echoed through the mountain pass, and his world went black as the smell of cooking meat met his nose through the tinge of his own coppery blood.

Author's Notes:

And here it is! The moment you've all been waiting for, THE CAMPING TRIP IS OOOVER!

All things aside, this chapter was both fun and terrible to write. I've been playing this chapter over and over in my mind for months, it's final iteration is nowhere near what it was originally.

Also, I find myself in need of another editor, as my current is being eaten by school work. I'd prefer if you have some past experience not only with editoring, but with flow and feel. Hopefully you don't mind being a soundboard for ideas and general fuckery. Anyone who's interested, shoot me a PM.

Position has been filled!