{{Author’s Note: Hey guys PistolWhip here, Respawn is undergoing another revision and the next chapter is going to be a while, a good while. But I’d like you all in the mean time to check out a friend of mine’s story. I firmly believe it’s better written than Respawn and the author has edited my last few chapters, without him the chapters would be noticeably worse. Like Respawn it starts out a little slow, but it’s phenomenal.Here’s the link: 

http://www.fimfiction.net/story/13002/Fallout-Equestria%3A-Shades-of-White

Its a heavily underrated fic, and I feel it should be given a little more attention, Celestia knows it’s earned it. Anyway, enough rambling, here’s the chapter.}}

Chapter 20: Road Trip

“This is where it officially earns my interest Dawn, the pegasus.” The Figure began “we all know what happened in Flankfurt, not many know what happened after that.”

“We were very clever.” she responded smirking.

“We even got a copy of that business dossier, on paper it was not a bad team.” the Figure said.

“Out there in the wastes, it plays with your mind. Tougher ponies than me have cracked, if you have no one, once you fall nopony is there to pick you up. Thats how we survived, family. Not in any literal sense, we just loved each other.” Dawn wasn’t sure on what other way to word it.

“Death Dealer shit, that’s what they told you: to love each other, kill for each other, castrate some poor bastard for each other.” The Figure listed, visibly angered.

“It wasn’t like that!” Dawn objected defensively herself from his ignorant assumptions, “We hurt together, we bled together, we had fun together. Without each other, we’d be dead or insane.”

“Is that what he told you?” the Figure questioned in monotone.

Dawn felt her eye twitch “I saw it, I read it, he told me about it. We were friends, Night Light finally opened up. Whenever I got depressed they were there. They. Were. There.” she replied, her nostrils flaring in frustration.

“I have no doubt you were friends. I know if a pony is alone, they’re vulnerable, the mind can’t take all of it at once. Why do you think he was dead set on reinforcing the feeling of family, and love? It was brainwash.” The Figure asserted slamming the table with his exoskeleton digits tightened into a ball.

“It helped. It helped me, I needed help.” she slowly sounded out through gritted teeth.

“Where are they now? When you actually need help, eh?” he snidely asked, leaning forward.

Dawn leaned forward in her chair squinting. She wetted her lips and spoke “Six feet two inches, about three fifty pounds, brown hooves so obviously a brown coat.” she said confidently.

“What?” The Figure asked baffled.

“Well,” Dawn began leaning back with a smirk “I’m not as sweet and innocent as I once was, or as stupid either. You.” she declared pointing a hoof at him, “Look at you, sharply dressed, clearly higher up in the ranks.  You have a very rare exoskeleton, pre war model; a very distinct mark. You let it slip you’re operating inside a Stable, and that you’re not a lone operator. Your clique has left their hoofprints all over this place. Once my family can nail down your clique, you won’t be hard to find.” she concluded, a wide grin stretched across her face.

“Mischief, huh?” The Figure asked in a casual and dismissive tone, “When we took you in, I expected a tough little filly with more guts than sense, a violent and reckless mare. I made an assumption, and I was wrong. You’re cunning, level headed. Worthy and Trouble, you may have only been with them for a short time, glad to see the time was well spent.” the Figure finished, bemused, maybe even impressed.

“I’ve got a lot to learn.” Dawn added.

“That you do. You’re young, a lot of living is ahead of you. Wisdom comes with age.”

“You know odds are I’m not making it out of here alive.  It’d suit you better to put twelve grams of lead in my head than turn me loose, but you said that.” she said dolefully.

“I did, didn’t I?” he replied remorseful, he let out an exasperated sigh.

“Right, enough bullshit, what next?” The Figure asked, cutting to the chase.

Dawn cleared her throat “We gathered our shit together and hit the wastes at high speed.”

“Any hassle on the way to Flankfurt?” he inquired.

“Some ‘old acquaintances’ of the Death Dealers paid us a flying visit.” Dawn answered.

_____________________________________________________________________

Trouble and Dawn entered the suite to find the living room littered with weapons, explosives and munitions, being dumped on any surface available. Rico entered the room levitating a heap of ammo boxes. Rifles lay scattered on the ground, shotguns in piles, scopes magazines, grenades. Everything.

Rico dropped the pile on the floor, noticing their return. “The fuck were y’all?” he asked huffing from the heavy lifting.

“Rico, you fucked with my car. Instead of smackin’ you upside the head, I’m going to let you take as much gear as you want. The fuck is up with you? Your momma raised you better.” Trouble replied in annoyance.

Night Light re-entered toying with a reinforced metal munitions box filled full of cylinders with pins “Your brother says this stuff causes ponies to spasm, collapse, shit and piss themselves, rupture their heart and fill their lungs with blood. Any of that true?” she questioned, grinning as she bounced one up and down playfully.

“Tah is some very potent nerve gas ranger. Don’t play with it.” Trouble cautioned, causing Night Light’s vindictive grin to spread even further, pocketing one for quick use.

“Wah we got laid out so far?” Trouble asked them.

“Uh,” droned out Rico, scratching behind his head, mentally taking stock “Lots of health potions, I’m talkin’ in and around fifty, maybe two score, roughly.” he stopped to let out a struggled breath “Er uh. We’re talking a about just under a tonne of ammo, forty kilos of that weird buttery explosive brick you use, a half gallon of liquid nitroglycerin. Ammo for all of us that is, uh grenades, gases, equipment like flares and other stuff, silenced weapons. Long range rifles, combat shottys, my pick of your carbines, pistols. Damn whatever brony, it's there.” he finished with confidence.

Trouble rolled his eyes “Ranger?” he directed the standing question to her.

“We got plenty of ammo, buckshot, slugs, birdshot, flechette for twelve gauge, all your coloured mags to. Revolvers with silencers, from forty-four magnum to nine m-m we got plenty of everything. SMG’s, M60’s, anything we deemed useful, rope, flares, napalm, grenade launchers, all in crates.” she summarized, still smiling.

Worthy entered the living room, a large wide wheelbarrow in tow, his hooves outstretched to bear it. You could easily pile eight ponies in it, with a bit of luck all this gear.

“I’m set.” Worthy declared, dropping the wheelbarrow to don his mask. The huge dark wide slanted eyes, the dagger maw forming a ear to ear smile was intimidating to say the least.

“Get some rest, all of ya. We roll out at daybreak. Hit em hard, hit em fast, and encourage some repeat business. You all got yer rooms, see ya all in the mawgun.” Trouble declared, heading for the hallway, stopping to whisper something to his brother, before proceeding.

The group stopped to exchange looks, save Worthy, who, after a moment's pause dropped the wheelbarrow and left for his room.Rico shrugged and followed, leaving Dawn and Night Light alone in the room. The mare was still toying with the gas grenade, resting in a armchair with a bemused grin on her face as she inspected it.

“You, uh, alright?” she awkwardly asked her.

“Oh, don’t mind me Dawn, I’m fine and dandy.” she replied slowly, slowly rotating the grenade with a vindictive grin, her eyes transfixed on the cylinder.

Dawn stared at her, wondering what was going on behind those pretty eyes of hers; she was very secretive. Hiding something, everything, her feelings, her opinions, her past. All this time she always just seemed to be just there. Never in the centre of things. She had cards to play, Dawn was sure of it. Keeping it close to the vest. As for her feelings, maybe she thinks the others will think she’s weak. Weak. Dawn knew that feeling.

“Hey Night Light?” she asked nervously.

“Yep.” came the chirpy response.

“Wanna, uh, talk about anything?” she asked timidly.

“Nah Dawn, nah. I got nothing to say.” she said, her tone distant.

Dawn gave a nod, looking back at the mare as she left the room, she longed to know more about her, she was too remote. Gallant, stoic, and angry: That was Night Light.

Dawn let out a sigh and gladly returned to ‘her’ dark room.

She felt warmed by the embrace of the lavish space. Its walls not so much restricting or corralling her, but being a fortress to the woes of the world outside. Her bed, the huge four poster comfort palace, was before her. She was  relieved by the very sight of it and trudged over.

She flung herself onto it, gear and all, and let herself drift into the void. Dawn wound herself  into a tight ball as the darkness engulfed her, and drifted to sleep.

_____________________________________________________________________

“A lot of hardware.” The Figure commented.

“We lost most of it I’m afraid, we used about,” she stuck her pink tongue out of the corner of her mouth, resting her hoof under her chin while she was caught up in deep thought, straining her recollective ability. “half.” she finished, uncertain of her own assertion.

“To be honest Dawn, I don’t give a fuck.” The Figure bluntly stated, “Just get on with it.”

Dawn rolled her eyes in contempt “Ok. She. Came. To. Me.” she sounded out.

_____________________________________________________________________

The door to Dawn’s dark room creaked open, the bright hallway lights highlighting the silhouette of a pony. The figure skulked in, quietly sealing the door shut behind itself. Concealed under a veil of shadow it approached Dawn, hunched over. From the darkness, a metallic “Clack.” echoed, gently rousing Dawn from her sleep.

She blinked furiously a dozen times, her eyes adjusting to the darkness, the only thing to be seen was the faint silver shimmering glow of a unicorn’s horn, reflecting off the polished steel of a short silenced weapon. Night Light.

Dawn could barely distinguish her features, it was the first time she ever seen her without her hat on, a long flowing silver mane had poured over her facial features and horn, salty trails were visible down her silver cheeks; she had been crying.

Dawn snapped to alertness after studying the mare, keeping her silence, but righting herself on the bed. Night Light drew in closer. Dawn backed up on the bed as Night Light sat her rump down on the end of the duvet, Valkyrie in tow, resting it on her lap.

The mare sat there in silence, petting her Valkyrie.

They remained in the darkness, in total silence, one waiting for the other to take the initiative. Night Light wiped her nostrils with a sleeve of her jacket and sniffed.

“Real fucked up, right?” Night Light uttered in a distressed hushed tone.

“What?” Dawn whispered back.

Night Light hid her face in her hooves,  her body rising and falling in deep breaths, “Dawn, you seen it, you were there. Marizona, it’s in fucking flames. Everypony is dead.” She sobbed out.

Dawn was baffled, dumbstruck. “I-I-I... Night Light-” she stammered out before being cut off.

“-In my imagination, my mind has always been this impenetrable fairy tale castle,” she said with watering eyes, raising her head from her hooves to look at Dawn, “and you know what? I was the queen, and no matter what, that castle could withstand any siege, for better or worse the castle stood in defiance.” she said sorrowfully, swallowing “Now I sit in my throne and its crumbling around me.” She sobbed, covering the salty tears pooling in her hooves.

“I-I don’t know what to say.” Dawn timidly said, baffled by the mare’s sudden, collapse.

“Say something.” Night Light sternly demanded through pitiful whimpers.

Dawn searched around her mind desperately for something to say to sooth the frazzled mare, “Any, relatives? Friends?” Dawn shyly queried.

“VDNKh.” she coldly replied.

Dawn’s felt a pang in her heart, her soul sinking for the mare. She remembered when she was shown how they died, how could she forget? The scene replayed vividly back to her before her eyes. The five carts of bloodied, damned and demoralized ponies, not a smile between them. Keeping their silence, already dead. Silence, at least, before they torched the carts, reducing them to nothing more than ash in the searing desert breeze.

“I remember,” Night Light began, her voice crushed under the debris of her mental implosion “you said, how, the bodies were burned. How do you know?”

      “I seen it.” she sheepishly answered, licking her lips.

“You didn’t, now how do you know?” Night Light repeated monotonically, her tears ceasing being replaced by coldness.

“I...” Dawn began, hesitant “see things.” she concluded, her own voice hinting she wasn’t even sure of her own story.

“What?” Night Light firmly questioned.

“I know how they died, who done it, believe me.” Dawn meekly answered, her eyes watering in the corners.

“Tell me.” she ordered.

Dawn gave a shudder, swallowing before she spoke “Rounded them up,” she began, gazing at the sullen and downtrodden mare, the red trails still visible from where the tears streaked down, “carts.” her voice cracked, she covered her mouth, Night Light turned her head, staring into Dawn with her dead grey eyes.

“Go on.” she mechanically droned, nodding her head.

Dawn searched around inside her skull, scraping every detail she could from her memory bank “They called him Gabriel.” she confidently stated.

Night Light’s eye twitched “Go, on.” she reinforced, her voice dripping in suppressed anger.

“The others, loved him, he gave the order, torch.” She stopped, biting her lip.

Night Light stared right through her, the odd time blinking slowly.

“I-I’m s-sorry.” Dawn stammered out.

Night Light turned away, staring into the darkness “Mother, uncle, my brother was already dead. My friends are long gone, some ponies care to remember me. Dad was murdered by a raider before I was born.” she sullenly said to the shadows.

The tired, sulking, mournful ranger slowly craned her neck back to Dawn, “I’m all alone.”

Night Light soundlessly left the room, trudging out of the room, drunk with sorrow. As if remembering she had a rendezvous with misery.

She turned to Dawn one final time, at the maw of the bright hallway, her silhouette highlighted, her features clouded in shadow. The mare stood staring at Dawn for a moment, or maybe it was a minute, before finally shutting the door gently, leaving Dawn, alone, in the darkness.

The lovely welcoming void, Dawn’s eyes were riveted on the door long after her departure, her brain taking in and breaking down the visitor’s message.

Time skulked by, crawling on and on, Dawn, slipping away with it.

_____________________________________________________________________

“You know what?” The Figure asked.

“What?”

“The more I listen, the less of a pony I view you as.” The Figure declared in a somber tone, “Night Light, you, it was almost cruel, the kind pony would have tried to comfort her, the sensitive would have told a lie to her. She didn’t need to hear that.”

“I’m different.” Dawn objected defensively.

“Oh, I’m well aware of that. To me it seems you're a class A Schizophrenic.” The Figure said confidently.

“What?” Dawn questioned in bewilderment, or disbelief.

“Oh, it’s just that well,” he began, “you hear things that don’t exist,” he started listing on his digits, point for point, “you have unusual thinkings and feelings. You have these fears and suspicions that don’t make sense, some of things these you believe in are strange and senseless! A lack of emotional response, lack of speech,  you don’t even know what's real or imaginary. You’ve been sick for a while is my guess, I bet Trouble didn’t have any of you psychologically examined.”

“No, no he didn’t.” Dawn bluntly confirmed.

“Then tell me Miss Dawn, was there ever a point when you enjoyed squeezing the trigger?” he crudely asked.

“Yes.”

“I’m not surprised, the company you were in. Its Trouble’s favourite past time. That Rico, he was probably hopped up on enough drugs to make torture seem like a jigsaw, as for-” he was cut short, as a scarred black hoof flew for his nose, impacting on his nostrils, recoiling his head, the reserved mare snarling.

“Don’t. You. Dare. Talk about Rico like that.” she hissed venomously, her eyes ablaze with suppressed fury.

The Figure, shrouded in the shadows reached his hoof up. He yanked down, with a sickening crack he righted his nostrils, noiselessly wiping the blood on the table.

“Maybe I overstepped myself with my assertion.” he murmured calmly, “But Dawn,” he continued.

She looked up to stare him in the face, as she did he pulled her hoof forward, dragging her chest over the table, with his free hoof he smacked the back of her head down onto the hard metal table, with a resonating “Bang!” as her head bounced. Stunned her body was allowed to slither back, her head foggy as blood seeped from  her left nostril.

“I’m very good at fighting, I’ve been killing since you were an itch in your deadbeat dad’s balls. You hit me, I hit you harder, are we clear?” he asked keeping his calm voice steady, unphased.

Dazed, Dawn righted herself in her seat, the blow caused her eye to water and made her head foggy, the dull throbbing in her head annoying her. Corrupting her train of thought.

She gave a brisk nod, rubbing her temple with her Pipbuck hoof.

“Good, now enough of this shit, what next?”

“Uh.” she began, searching for the displaced words “Germaney, we crossed the badlands, derelict, Trouble said that was weird, usually activity. We found out why.” she blurted out.

“What?” the Figure questioned.

“Caravans were locked down, travellers and locals displaced due to, uh, fighting and fear. We ran into some, enemies of Trouble and Worthy.”

“Who?”

“Grosavics.”

_____________________________________________________________________

Dawn awoke in her bed, rejuvenated, replenished. The night’s unpleasantries in the back of her mind. Standing in her doorway was that cloaked and masked pony, Worthy, standing stoic, watching her.

Her strode into the room, his hoofsteps as silent as his brother’s inexplicably silent. Dawn remained frozen, paralyzed by an unknown force, she thought for a moment Worthy was inducing it, those evil eyes locking her in place with their vindictive glare.

“The room, Trouble’s little corner of, remembrance.” Worthy began, the mask killing his emotion, turning his voice into a chilling mechanical chime “It’s interesting, no?” he asked, keeping a grim yet strangely pleasant demeanour.

“I-I guess.” Dawn timidly answered, shying away from him.

“He said he wants me to tutor you, make you more. Now, he happens to have a very strict policy on that room, not even I’m allowed in it. Or else, now where does that leave you?” he questioned, leaning over the bed to jut his masked malicious face inches from hers.

“Uh.” Dawn droned out, drawing increasingly uneasy.

“I’ll tell you,” Worthy began “I want something back from Trouble for this, but I’m not telling him. I’ve agreed to even lend you the tapes from when I was in prison, but you get even more,” Worthy paused to draw one of the orbs from the room out from his cloak, “these, it's only right you get to actually ‘see’ who we are.” he finished, stashing the orb.

“So, you’re going to be, teaching me?” Dawn sheepishly asked.

Worthy gave a long nod, “How to master that rifle of yours and how to become,” he searched for the appropriate term for a moment “more.”

“Does, this mean. That, you’re sticking your neck out for me?” Dawn shyly asked, squinting at him, for no clear reason.

“I guess it does.” Worthy confirmed leaving the bedside, taking his leave “We’re leaving.” He announced before striding back out into the hall.

After what felt like several long moments of staring at the door Dawn forced herself up, the gravity seemed to be magnified as she lay on the soft fabric. The heavy weaponry she donned weighed too damn much, a little mare like her shouldn’t be packing this kind of kit. That heavy over the top shotgun “Black Rook” weighting at least thirty five pounds on her back, next to Bad News, another hefty hunk of metallic murder. Amigo may have been a big boy but he was manageable at least.

Her armour over time has come to feel almost sculpted for her body, moulded into her, becoming one, in some weird unspoken sacred pact. Her life, in exchange for purpose.

Her pipbuck forever alive on her hoof, the same green light perpetually glowing, as long as her heart pumped blood, her pipbuck glowed, as Trouble once informed her, even if not in that exact wording.

With a groan she launched herself off the bed, swaying on her hooves as she struggled for balance. Retaining a somewhat normal posture as she entered the hall, she took a deep breath, taking a long stride into the hall. Calmly trying to ready herself for the day, leaving this wonderful place for the hell of the wastes, all in some mad gambit for small metal circles that determined who lives, who dies, who starves and who feasts.

Before her hoof fell onto the the soft fabric a pony cried out “Heads!” she snapped her head around in alarm, her mouth opened in a silent shout as the brown blur barrelled into her at speed, knocking her off her hooves onto the soft floor with a thud, knocking the wind out of her. But it seemed to have knocked the brown blur down too.

“Sorry.” Rico groaned, Dawn got another good look at him, his black and blood red combat armour was all in a mess. His gothic shoulder plates jangled unfastened on his body, the straps were undone on his thick studded and reinforced ballistics vest. And only one of his large black square toe boots was laced properly.

“Uh, no problem.” Dawn awkwardly told him, climbing onto her hooves, she offered her hoof, Rico gladly accepted, he pulled himself up. He may have been tall, but he felt like he weighed practically nothing.

“Thanks Dawn, we’ve got a beautiful friendship ahead of us I hear.” Rico said in an energized voice.

“Huh?” she shot back bewildered, “you hear?” she questioned.

“Thats what the voices in my head are telling me, that and to bake cakes.”

“What?” Dawn pressed, confused.

“Then again the price of sugar around here is preposterous, and friends always end up passed out on the floor while I play a song on the flute.” he continued.

“What?” Dawn repeated, totally baffled.

“Usually with my old hoof ball boots draped around my neck, while those damn kids are outside listening to their rap music, loitering, of course the constables never heed my council.” he ranted on, it was at this point Dawn shook her head and gave up trying to make sense of what he was saying.

“Rico I haven’t an idea what you’re talking about.” Dawn interjected, shaking her head.

“Of course my philosophical standpoint on the police is to fuck them. As handed down through the generations.”

“Huh?” Dawn blurted out, kicking herself for egging him on.

“Fuck the Police!” Rico barked out, his face flared up in spontaneous aggression.

Dawn just stared up at the tall stallion, totally flabbergasted. After a moment of solemn silence Rico looked back, breaking into a broad bemused grin.

“Yeah, you’ll get used to that.” he reassured, beaming brightly at her.

Dawn just kept staring at him, totally lost for words. Resigning to awkwardly smiling up at the thin stallion.

The two entered the room together, already up were all the others, fully armed and ready to go, the wheelbarrow loaded to half capacity, nearly half the gear returned to the armoury.

Trouble acknowledged the two with a nod.

“We eat on the road, its a long haul, I told Duct Tape to bring roun’ me ride.” he told her, hefting the wheelbarrow off the ground. Dawn looked over to Night Light, the mare was back to ‘normal’, her hat proudly adorned on top of her head, tilted down, her Valkyrie polished on her back.

Worthy was how he always seemed to be with that mask on, despite her only knowing him a short time, dark and foreboding, she didn’t like it to say the least.

Rico was busy scrambling to fit his gear back on “Back exit right?” He asked Trouble, stalling more than anything, this ‘back exit’ sparked Dawn’s interest.

“I have permission to use it.” Trouble confirmed, pivoting the wheelbarrow with strain to face the door.

“What’s this about a back exit?” Night Light queried, beating Dawn to the punch.

“Next to Duct Tape’s is a not so secret retractable wall panel, they use it for bringing in the heavier shipments, from the ‘serious’ suppliers.” Worthy answered.

“Serious?” Dawn asked raising an eyebrow.

“He means the big fuckin armoured convoy yokes, bringing in petrol from Bastion, thousands of miles away, or huge food shipments.” Trouble answered for him, waiting for the door to be opened for him it seemed.

“Anypony? Nah?” He asked looking back at his companions in annoyance.

Worthy did what Dawn interpreted as an eye roll before hurriedly opening the door for his brother, proceeding down the hallway to call forth the elevator.

“Everypony on me, and don’t fall behind.” Trouble announced, backing himself into the elevator so as to have a quick and smooth exit. They all squeezed tightly into the elevator, pressed against the walls in a small circle around the wheelbarrow, forming a rudimentary buffer between the gear and the outside world. Trouble, the largest and bulkiest of them hefting it. Dawn took position to the right of the wheelbarrow, in front of her was Night Light, across from her was Worthy and behind him across from Dawn was Rico, Trouble taking up the rear.

The elevator doors slid shut and with a “Ding!” the lift began its descent, thinking back Dawn hadn’t the faintest clue why this little metal box petrified her. It was nonsensical and absurd, but it happened. She threw the thought into the back of her mind, bracing herself for the dapper crowd of the casino.

“Righ,” Trouble began, flexing his shoulders “I reckon this is a four day job max, if we haul some real fuckin’ arse we’ll be at the bridge in twelve hours, then there will be some serious hardcore action.” he said confident in himself.

“Details?” Night Light asked absent mindedly.

“All for the road.” he answered.

The elevator dinged open on the ground floor, as the metal panels retracted they revealed a fierce spectacle, ponies with bemused faces, mildly intoxicated glanced over to see the newcomers, nearly all the noise in the room died.

Hushed gasps could be heard from the crowd, one stallion even dropped his drink, the glass shattering with a clear crack sound, embellished by the silence that fell over the crowd.

All at once in a proud stride the group left the elevator, the ponies backing away, making room for the walking death threats. Dawn kept ranks with the group, feeling too exposed, but she glimpsed their faces, a terrified awe.

Rico tried desperately to beat down his grin, it flickered on and off his face, straining himself not to chuckle. Worthy didn’t seem to care or really notice, Night Light merely ducked her head, obscuring her features with the brim of her hat. Trouble done what Dawn expected him to do, be taking the largest and most ‘don’t fuck with me’ steps he could manage as he hauled the wheelbarrow full of munitions through the casino floor.

The group strode gallantly past the main reception desk, Inky was there, giving a sly chuckle as the group left the door, the crowd dumbstruck by them.

They pushed into the VIP way, the dark corridor the door at the end of the hall automatically opened without prompt, the mystifying lights of New Pegas dazzling Dawn yet another time.

The sun was only creeping over the horizon, the day had only begun and the strip was still flooded with drunken happy ponies. This city had a strange trait of perpetually keeping ponies intoxicated.

Down the steps to the Coltic was the Rap Mobile, the familiar burgundy mare was at the wheel. With her tongue stuck out of the corner of her mouth she honked the horn several times, pressing her hoof firmly against the centre of the steering wheel.

The mare chirply dismounted the vehicle, her greasy fringe slicked back on her head.

“Ooh, I seen happier funeral processions!” She joked staring at the group.

“And I’ve killed worse than you.” Worthy hissed.

Duct Tape’s face fell, she backpedalled clumsily, Dawn could’ve swore she shrank a little, looking at Worthy, the vindictive grin of the mask. She’d be scared of him too. To be honest as it stood, she was downright unnerved by him.

“Worthy, play nice.” Rico said, looking warmly at the malicious pony.

“Duct Tape your grand.” Trouble reassured, resting the iron cast wheelbarrow on the ground.

“Uh, sure then.” Duct Tape sheepishly replied, a single bead of sweat trailing down her brow.

She gave a feeble attempt at shrugging it off, turning her attention to Trouble

“Keys are in the ignition, I reinforced the engine bay like you asked, and there is more than enough fuel in the back, even with all your crates.” she informed him.

“Storage units?” He questioned in response.

“It was hard but I managed it, under the seats on a slide, you just pull it out, floor panels too, round the turret. Hidden and plenty of room.” the mare proudly said, wiping her furry chest with her oil stained hoof.

“Ya always pull through Duct Tape, admirable.” Trouble commented, lifting the wheelbarrow, rolling it down past the mare coming round to the rear. Duct Tape hurried over, pulling down the back panel to allow Trouble to dump gear on the car. In a fluid motion she slid out the storage she was speaking of from the seats by reaching under them.

Two long compartments the length of the vehicle shot out on metal rails on either side of the vehicle.

“That all?” Duct Tape asked, perched on the edge of the vehicle’s side armouring.

Trouble swung a heavy crate of weapons over his shoulder “Skedaddle.” he casually said, puffing out strained breaths hauling all the gear into the vehicle. Duct Tape leapt from the vehicle, returning to her workshop, waving over her shoulder to the group, not looking back.

Soon the gear was loaded in the sides, there wasn’t even a need for the panels beneath the heavy turret Duct Tape referred to. But admittedly, it’d take quite some time to filter through that gear to find the stuff you were after to begin with. All backed away in crates and what not, apparently they were numbered, but Dawn never seen proof of that.

They were all mounted up, a wall of spectators had built around the vehicle, watching with beverages, sharing hushed murmurs amongst themselves. Worthy, the cloaked menace was on the oversized machine gun with the gigantic barrel, Dawn noticed that he had the good eye’s visor peering through the shielding.

Dawn and Night Light were sitting opposite one another, in the seating near the turret, the shielding covering their bodies if they hunched over, or it could be used as a good firing position if they stretched themselves over the seats and floor.

Rico was riding shotgun with Trouble, the Red Queen between seats, supposedly for the passenger. Grey magazine loaded into the upturned shotgun, regular load. Dawn was kind of disappointed, she was beginning to really like the different flavours of carnage on offer in such a wonderful weapon.

“Oh fuck!” Night Light yelled out in alarm, jumping from her seat.

Dawn leapt up, startled, too busy trying to block out the stares of the crowd.

“Wah?” Trouble called back, as he put the vehicle into gear, looking over his shoulder back at the mare and past her onto the road.

“I need to use your radio, I forgot to report in to the Buck Himself.” she pleaded, clearly stressed. Dawn was afraid for a moment she’d have a repeat of last night.

“You’ll be grand.” Trouble replied, looking past the mare. With a jolt the wheels screeched to life and the engine gave a formidable roar as it propelled itself backwards, knocking Night Light off balance, causing her to stumble back into her seat, as she crashed into her seating she looked around her frantically. Glancing around the crowd, humiliated she tipped her hat down to hide her flustered and blushing face.

Dawn felt a knot tie in her stomach with the sudden motion, forcing her insides around, propping them all against the wall of her body, leaving one half of her body hollowed.

In a fluid motion Trouble span the wheel around, spinning the car around in a perfect one hundred and eight arc, rocking Worthy on the turret, his hooves tightly wrapped around the grips, for Dawn it felt like she was just bucked between the ribs.

She bent over, ducking her head low, pretending she was fine. Her malnourished stomach gave a displeased gurgle against her will, causing a wave of nausea.

Trouble slammed his hoof down onto the throttle, rocketing them forward, causing their heads to lol on their shoulders, all except Night Light’s. Crowds hurriedly dispersed before them, fleeing from the lumbering metal beast, growling at them.

Trouble pulled right past the Red & Black casino, stomping on the brakes between it and Shangri-La inches from the huge metal wall spanning the length of the strip in a wide circle, shielding it from the darkness and misery of the outside world. The car was halted at the wall for a moment, a boring moment. For the crowd it seemed that the driver had made a blunder and was too embarrassed to realign himself, but Trouble kept face, waiting.

Two securitrons wheeled over and took places on either side of the Rap Mobile, a moment later the screech of metal on metal flooded the strip, overwhelming the ambient noise, Dawn gritted her teeth, the noise made her want to rip her ears off. The metal wall literally pulled apart, the chrome metal slipped away and retracted on invisible hinges. Exposing a very strange stretch of road.

It was freeside, but, not overcrowded, not diseased and not so desperate. Just a grey stretch of road, maybe a mile in length running right out of Freeside, no gate, just open road. The place was still the usual dark destitute shade of grey, all junctions and side roads were cordoned off, and more importantly at every street corner was two securitrons as if any ponies looking to try their luck needed any more of a deterrent.

Trouble revved the engine several times, prodding the beast for its aggravated response. The angered engine giving a deep rumble, letting its master know it was ready.

Trouble slammed his hoof onto the throttle, the beast joyously rocketing forward, Dawn felt another fierce buck between her ribs. Her innards crying out in objection, the momentum unsettling them, it felt, off.

Rico stood from his seat, kneeling on the leather, the wind whipping his red mane back in fluid locks, he threw his hooves out, catching the wind as the barreled at speed out of the slums into the open desert on a cracked asphalt road, thundering towards the sun.

The stray rays of light catching on Rico’s silhouette, “Woo!” He cried out thrilled, before dropping himself with a bounce back onto his seat.

“Time for zee tunage.” he declared, fiddling with a small stereo beneath the CB radio Trouble had between the driver and passenger’s dashboard.

“Oh yeah, you’ll love the music I added.” Rico chimed, grinning mischievously up at Trouble, with a click the stereo burst to life, Trouble groaned as the music began to blare through the speakers that Dawn couldn’t see. Rico bobbed his head with the beat, Dawn found the music took her mind of the war waging inside her, that could have a explosive climax.

“Lets check the air waves, maybe there is a bus full of supermodels in distress out here.” Rico optimistically spoke, fiddling with the CB on the dash, the radio burst into static life.

“Meh, dead air.” Rico groaned, deflated, right before a spark of genius struck him, he leaned over into the speaker, clearing his throat.

“Rap Mobile motherfuckers!” Rico yelled out at the wastes as they sailed at high speed through the brown sea. Back in the wastes, Dawn gazed forlornly back at the lights of Pegas, the ambient beauty, she already longed to be there once more. Her eyes drifted to the pinnacle of the Red & Black casino, the pitiful old stallion, alone, in his dark ivory tower.

_____________________________________________________________________

“So, the road. You said Grosavics hit, I wasn’t aware they had Ponave operations.” The Figure said, intrigued.

“They had the hit planned, no telling how they found out, but, they hit in force. Griffins, ponies, we even had a few other vehicles to contend with.” Dawn informed him, remembering the insanity of the whole thing. And more than anything how many times she puked, she was surprised her stomach had that much to throw up, considering how little she ate.

“They’re on the rise again, still a shadow of themselves though. And of course the most obvious targets are what’s left of the ageing Death Dealers. All three of em’.” He snidely said, but not to her, just the stupidity of the Grosavics, Trouble and Worthy buried the hatchet long ago, they couldn’t care less for them. Trouble said so himself, and Worthy, well, he hinted at it.

“Four Death Dealers.” Dawn corrected, “Trouble, Worthy, Queen of Hearts and Eight of Clubs.” she listed.

“Very good.” The figure responded, impressed “But, I bet you know the Eight of Spades disowned the family, leaving three in our books.”

“Not in the Death Dealers.” Dawn objected, giving a single laugh.

“The Death Dealers are dead and disbanded, Trouble and Worthy are just two washed up has beens that are at the end of their working lives. Dirty consciences and even dirtier hooves, they may live in luxury, feared and respected, but its a filthy existence.” The Figure hissed in disdain for them, Dawn over and over in her head wondered why this pony loathed them so much. It was clear for this reason alone he was the perfect interrogator, they done a lot of bad things, the Death Dealers didn’t have many friends, and even fewer enemies, but still, they killed for money, serious money. Maybe he lost somepony to them, or maybe Trouble or Worthy ruined his life so by association he hated them all. It was all being decrypted in Dawn’s mind, but for now it was still a mystery.

“Enough of my ranting, continue.”

Dawn let out a sigh, slouching in her chair lazily “We were miles out, I refused to eat, travel sickness, not uncommon. We were running the line between the Ponave and Marizona, running east right towards Germaney.”

_____________________________________________________________________

The sun was high past the cloud cover by now, everyone had eaten, bar Dawn, her innards were in flames, throwing two hundred year old preservatives will be like tipping a keg of gunpowder on top of a bonfire.

Rico was still in charge of the stereo, playing his music. Dawn didn’t mind it, Worthy was sitting next to Night Light busy retelling a story, to which Night Light was enrapt.

“You choke Bastion, you choke all of Baltimare.” He continued, the story had only begun but Dawn was only paying half attention.

“How?” Night Light asked during Worthy’s pause.

“Simple really, Bastion is the only oil source left in Equestria, its a fortress, a city, before the war it was an oil refinery built into an old Gyrphonian ruin, they grow the petrol and diesel rapeseed underground, underground fields of it, stretching for miles and miles. Without it everything and everypony would freeze, its probably the most powerful independent city left, with the money that flows through there alone they could hire every faction in Equestria to wipe each other out.” Worthy spoke coldly through his mask, the mechanical tone making his words poignant and memorable.

“Why don’t they?” Night Light interjected, engrossed in the chat.

“It’s not wise to kill your number one customer, anyways like I said the Germaney’s top brass paid me to wipe out some amateur gunponies who were harassing their oil flow, Germaney is an industrial powerhouse again, they’ve got three arms factories up and running and one vehicle depot, if the oil stops, Germaney stops. The ponies in Marizona will do well to remember that, if not I could sell them that info.”

“What happened?” she asked, her face eager for more.

“As it turns out the ponies hijacking the oil flow were some up and coming hustlers from Trottingham, with the help of some Glascow smugglers they were shifting the oil on at fifty percent mark down, in exchange for the discount the Stalliongrad mob provided the gear and guns to the ponies. One of the three Phoenix families on your side is more of an advantage than an entire armoury loaded with high end magical energy weapons.”

“Yeah but what happened to them?” Night Light almost pleaded.

“I had a nice long chat with one of them, very polite young stallion, he squealed on his friends, their whole operation, which to be frank was raking in caps by the barrel, so I chopped his head off and went to visit his friends. In a word, pushovers, once the barrels of petrol started exploding, they started panicking, it was all over within a few hours, General Rauch Brecher kept me on as his secret weapon, once they started executing expats and expanding I made copies of as many of his plans as possible and took a final job, the envelope for Trouble, I was never supposed to come back from that.” Worthy concluded in his regal voice barely detectable through the mask.

“The death threat? What did the letter itself say?” Night Light asked, not yet satisfied.

“Kill the pony that hands you this letter, ya-da-ya-da-ya-da-ya-da Celestia’s kingdom is yours, bullshit-bullshit-bullshit, love Gabriel.” Trouble answered inattentively.

“That.” Worthy confirmed nodding at his brother “You should've seen what they were building, huge war machines, bigger than those tanks the Thundering Herd still float about in, I even heard their developing flying ones, gunships they’re calling them.”

“And the two princesses raise the sun and set the moon everyday, watching over us as we work play and sleep right?” Night Light countered in an obtusely sarcastic tone.

“Heh,” Worthy chuckled mirthlessly “you’re probably right, bullshit like that always floats down the river, try to spread fear through the enemies ranks, we’re going to be hitting the bridge, so I guess we’ll see.”

“You said you made copies of ‘General what's-his-name’s’ plans, we’re are they now?” she asked, beginning to badger Worthy.

“Under the eye patch, I didn’t want to tell those Show Ponies, no telling how they’d react.” Worthy calmly answered, Night Light’s eyebrows shot up in alarm.

“Their in your eye socket!?” she exclaimed in disbelief.

“Well its a lot more comfortable then keeping them up my ass.” Worthy countered defensively leaning in to Night Light’s face.

Rico gingerly raised his hoof “I can vouch for that.”

Worthy slowly craned his neck over to look at Dawn, her coat had a green tint as she sat there hunched up, a docile expression on her face.

“Trouble pullover, Dawn here looks like she’s about to blow.” Worthy called to his brother.

Trouble looked back at his brother raising an eyebrow, he rose from his seat slightly, scanning the landscape. All around them was a vast expanse of brown, small hills dips and rises in the ground all around them, not a soul or a building for miles, they were in the asshole of nowhere, complete with every shade of brown detectable to the naked eye.

“Uhh,” he droned out “anywhere in particular?”

“Roadside picnic.” Worthy answered.

_____________________________________________________________________

“Now this is where they hit.” The Figure confidently asserted.

“Bingo, scores of them, hundreds, ponies trying to run alongside, some did, griffins circled overhead. By the time Worthy spotted them, we were already zeroed in on, those hills were littered and lined with Grosavics, runners backed by shooters and constant aerial harassment. It was a nightmare.” Dawn recalled dismally, close calls. Too many.

“How many griffins?” The Figure inquired.

“I dunno, they swooped down, from the cloud cover. This was my new life, funny considering how close I came to death.” Dawn said, giving a weak smile.

“Just bring me through it, I want the facts, the details.” The Figure seriously told her.

“Damn long day, damn long. By the end of it, the car floor was filled with hot brass and puke.”

_____________________________________________________________________

The group had halted at the roadside, resting on the cracked asphalt, Rico was brewing something up with all the strange drugs and syrettes from the briefcase into a small pot they had set up, in the pot was a pale minty green goo that was being heated by a small bunsen burner that came with the briefcase.

Dawn rocked back and forth, the pain in her stomach subsiding, Trouble was slurping from his hip flask, idly chatting away to Worthy, Night Light occasionally adding something, then Dawn picked up on the conversation topic.

“Then tha fuckin kid somersaulted off the top of the exploding saloon, mortars jus’ pounding the sense out of us, I thought for a moment she was dead, holy shit a few more seconds she woulda been, she has a mean scar to show fir it.” Trouble banged on, enthusiastically retelling the tale to his brother.

“Night Light dragged her sorry arse into our wee hidey hole, that was some real hardcore action, fuckin Eraser like, still that was only one column, fuck knows how many Angels flooded Marizona.” Trouble concluded.

Worthy sat there listening intently, his mask off, he looked between Dawn and Trouble, the gears in his mind working away “How about I give her one of my tapes now?” Worthy asked, changing topic, his amber eye baring malevolently into Dawn, putting her at unease.

“Work away.” Trouble said waving a hoof at the mare, Worthy rose and strode over to Dawn, “I have something to show you.” he said to her, towering above where she sat, casting a long shadow.

“Uhhh.” Dawn droned out, at loss for words.

“Follow me.” Worthy ordered, going around the back of the purple Rap Mobile, Dawn shot looks to both Night Light and Trouble pleadingly. Trouble gave a stiff nod, turning his attention to Night Light. Dawn sheepishly rose to her hooves, swearing under her breath, Worthy gave her the creeps, and the fact Trouble condoned him dragging her away from the group felt like a bitter betrayal.

She reluctantly followed the cloaked pony behind the car, the folds from his cloak trailing behind him, the dirt and dust staining its edges. They stopped at the back panel that could be pulled down to become a mounting position instead of mere cover.

There he was, leaning up on the car, standing on his hind hooves, tinkering at something on top of the Rap Mobile, a small red cassette tape player, a small set of old headphones connected, the thin worn wire snaking up in a coil.

“Put them on, and listen.” Worthy instructed her, offering the headphones.

Dawn let out a nervous sigh and nodded, taking the headphones from Worthy, fitting them around her ears, the frame was uncomfortable and poor fitting, Dawn gave a long nod, awaiting Worthy’s ‘tape’. Dawn vaguely recalled him telling her he’d ‘lend her his tapes from when he was in prison’. Worthy jabbed the play button and a crackling audio filled her ears. A pony with funny sounding accent spoke harshly, a stallion no doubt.

“What is your preferred weapons set, and why?”

“Anything that makes a spectacle, and that can be controlled. You see all these soldiers strutting about the place, carrying a twenty five pound hunk of metal capable of spitting out a thousand rounds a minute. Why?” Worthy began, he was merely voicing a stream of thoughts aloud.

“There is no, punchline to it. No, how can I put it? I like nothing faster than semi automatic, why? Because some idiots get caught up in the moment. Semi automatic offers control, it has precision and a sense of omnipotence, what's worse? Some idiot screaming at the top of his lungs as he fired 30 rounds at you, missing and going astray, or one cool, silent shooter, dropping five rounds a minute at you, all gaspingly close to your head? The bolt action provides me for what I need, terror. Another favoured weapon is the flail, a flail is better than any sword, lance, energy weapon, blade you got.”

Worthy paused for a breath before continuing “I get in close, all they see is a heavy hunk of metal spinning wildly on a chain before I knock the brains out of their skull, it makes a bloody mess too. Usually they’re too frozen in fear to do anything to stop me, the blood... Explodes over me, drenching me. Making me out to be far worse than I could ever hope to be, same with the rifle. Other than that we got my flamethrower, or you got my flamethrower I should say, that is a real weapon, no not weapon. What am I saying? Its a tool, like any other, my most efficient I dare say, I don’t use it for efficiency. The shrill screams from that you cannot get from any other weapon, as their sizzling in their own fat all they can do is scream in agony, have you any idea what that does to other ponies watching? Its a million times better to watch them be butchered with an axe than suffer that fate. But, there is always, my teeth. Or my metal jaws, which you confiscated. There is something so terrible about that to other ponies, that I weaponized my teeth, what I did was make sure ponies were watching then bite a hoof off, its not hard if the jaws have been sharpened, the screams, the roars. They make you stronger, better. Fear is my only weapon, I channel it through my tools, it does worse things to ponies than your ‘firearms’ could ever hope to. Blood is my special talent after all, right?”

The crackling ceased along with the audio, Dawn stared up at Worthy and he stared back, he slowly leaned into her, whispering sullenly into her ear “I’m on your side, a lot of hatred and anger is on your side, you may not appreciate it now, but in time, you’ll come to love me like a brother.” he chillingly reassured her. Dawn wasn’t sure when it started, her scarred hoof was trembling violently.

“Now though,” he started again “you’re probably loathing me.” he gave a mirthless laugh, leaning away from her, he left her with one final message before striding off once more “You and I, we’re going to learn so much together.” he said to her, smiling.

Back with the group Rico was pouring the boiling liquid into small bottles, thickening as it was left to cool in a small satchel to which the tiny bottles were fitted to.

Dawn rejoined them, her stomach settling “What are those, things?” She asked jabbing a hoof at the bottles.

“Some very fine shit,” Rico answered, smiling up at her “back in Phoenix I was apprenticed to a local drug tycoon, I learned the blends, uppers, downers, some shit that’ll make you damn near unstoppable, this is the stuff that makes you unstoppable, I call it ‘Demon’.” he finished proudly levitating a bottle before him. The pale green goo hardening quickly in the transparent bottles.

“But, its.. hard goo.” Dawn awkwardly objected.

“Nah, nah, nah, once its hard you grind it into powder and snort.” Rico explained.

Dawn literally recoiled in confusion, that was a new one. “So, once you do that thing, what happens?” she asked curious about the concoctions’ traits.

Rico sighed “Snort, sniff it up. It takes usually seven seconds and then it boots you into hyper drive!” Rico joyously exclaimed beaming, Trouble shot him a dirty look “Pain is jammed, you could be shot and shake it off, your brain is just rocketed into like supermode, its better than mintals, makes you so sharp, every ounce of you is faster, sharper and deadlier, all in one long flash. But the crash is... Hard to say the least.”

Dawn’s jaw was hanging low, her eye twitched, it was perfect. Just what she’d need if things came down around her, make her less like Dawn and more like what she was supposed to be, Mischief.

“Last time I took a hit of that shite I was down for twenty four hours.” Trouble commented.

“Well,” Rico began thinking for a counter argument, so he switched his gaze to Dawn “would you rather be down for a day or for an eternity?”

Fair point.

“Still, it’s only to be as a last resort,” Rico added, his smile dropping “last thing we want is a damn demon in our midst when we’re trying to be diplomatic.”

“Diplomacy? With my brother?” Worthy sneered “Call yourself a comedian.” Worthy tutted.

“Fuck off.” Trouble interjected, gulping from his flask.

“You always were the charmer weren’t you?” Worthy asked Trouble, shaking his head at his brother’s gruff attitude.

“I’m fuckin forty! I didn’t last this long on charms and good looks.” Trouble pointed out, annoyed at Worthy’s sarcasm.

Worthy turned his eyes to the skies, “We got company.” he bluntly stated in a slow, cold voice.

The entire group looked to the sky, high above were several specks circling above them. Trouble burst into action, stashing his flask, a hoof firmly against the grip of his white revolver as he hurriedly moved over to the Rap Mobile on his hind hooves, mounting it.

“Worthy, get them fliers ID’d, kid, give em a hoof, Rico, yer ridin shotty, Night Light saddle up!” Trouble barked up, firing the beast up. The engines howling in anger. Worthy’s strange deployable rifle ejected from under his cloak on its strange scaffolding brass frame, he rubbed the dusty lens with his muzzle in a small circle before peering down the lens.

“Three griffins, big ones.” Worthy called out, Dawn did the same with Bad News, scanning the sky. She spotted three imposing silhouettes circling high in the sky, bigger, bulkier and more muscular than any pony she ever seen. She had only ever seen one griffin, and even then it looked formidable with its wings tucked in, outstretched, it put them to scale.

“Uniforms?” Trouble called back.

“I can’t see they’re in the sun, we’re being zeroed!” Worthy declared in alarm.

Dawn was still gazing up at the dark silhouettes, they looked to be armoured, it was hard to tell, the small pinpricks jutting out from their huge wingspans were feathers, a small whipping tang with a bulb of sorts at the end had to have been their tails.

“Dawn C’mon!” Worthy gruffly ordered, dragging her towards the Rap Mobile, startled she nearly dropped Bad News, coming to her senses she hurriedly threw it into the Rap Mobile ahead of her as Worthy mounted, adorning his mask as he climbed. Night Light helped pull them up, her Valkyrie readied at her side, everyone seemed to be on high alert bar Dawn, she didn’t see what the panic was about.

She took Night Light’s hoof and was pulled into her old seating position, Night Light slammed the back panel shut and yelled back “Drive!” Hurling herself into her old seating position, ducked low. Worthy hooked his hoof under the bolt of the machine gun and pulled it back, the heavy mechanism giving a solid “Chuk-Chuk” in response.

Trouble slammed the car into gear, taking off at a heart jumping pace, instantly knocking Dawn’s gut back into a traumatic state. She looked to the heavens, the three specks in the sky had multiplied into three dozen, sailing through the air in a elegant V shaped formation.

The flock soared through the sky, taking a drastic turn they plummeted from the heavens, the light catching them “Oh Shit!” Rico cried out, readying his rifle, Overture. The griffins were clad in a sickly green armour with a blue trim, run of the mill thick combat armour, it wasn’t their armour Dawn saw first, it was their guns, the best she had seen so far bar Trouble’s own stock, finely polished and refined weapons, combat shotguns, exotic assault rifles, dual wielding machine pistols, all carried by huge feathered monstrosities.

“Hit the deck!” Night Light cried out, hurling herself onto the floor of the Rap Mobile as the griffins swooped in, Worthy span the turret around to face the oncoming griffins, Dawn in a heart thumping panic flung herself down with Night Light, throwing her hooves over her ears and shutting her eyes tight in fear.

The griffins levelled out, thundering towards them, a second later a splash of sparks bounced off the turrets shielding, denting the metal with a shrieking “CLANG-CLANG-CLANG!”

Worthy clamped down on the grip trigger, the cannon burst into thumping life, a round entered the chamber from the belt, spat out almost immediately, used up in a heart stopping “THUMP-THUMP-THUMP!” The colossal rounds flashing through the vents in the barrel in a bright blur for a moment of a second before being propelled at insane speed and strength at the griffins, filling the floor of the Rap Mobile with hot brass.

More bullets bounced around the Rap Mobile, slapping harmlessly against the back panel’s thick armour, or being embedded in the side plating. The gun pounded away, Worthy scoring a lucky hit, exploding a griffins skull, the bullet tearing his wind pipe, down though his ribs mulching sinew and bone before finally exploding out its muscular hind leg, in a flash of bright plush brown feathers and blood.

The griffins dispersed, streaking overhead, breaking ranks and retreating upwards at tremendous velocity. Dawn timidly opened one eye, looking around her panicking, she wasn’t used to these ‘things’, it didn’t help that her stomach had her immobilized, she was very much out of her ‘comfort zone’.

Night Light climbed up, pressing her hat down onto her head, scanning the landscape. Turning her back to Dawn she peered over the side plating into the hills that were undoubtedly beginning to funnel them as they rose in steepness and frequency, the field of view was visibly beginning to narrow.

“Awh shit!” She swore venomously, “The hills! Shooters in the hills!” she spat out begging for attention, Dawn peeked her head up an inch, she wasn’t lying. All over the brown hills were little heads and black barrels peeking up, waiting.

“Fuck! Rico grab the Queen and work on those Griffins! Worthy start trimming those shooters! Ranger, Kid you support that stupid cyclops I call my fuckin’ brother!” Trouble barked out, pulling a panel of thick cast iron up where a door window should have been on a small lever, a little retractable slot to fire from locked tightly head level with him.

The shooters rose from the dirt simultaneously as Dawn remained glued to the cold metal floor of the Rap Mobile, the spent casings bouncing up and down with every pump in the road. Dawn intestines screaming out in objection for every bounce of a spent bullet.

Worthy tilted the turret around, seeing the line of ponies taking aim. In one insane trade off the two sides exchanged searing hot metal like greetings between old friends.

The machine gun pounded again, ringing out like deafening thunder, flashing like bright dazzling lightning. The rounds impacted hard into the hillside, the ponies hurled themselves into cover, most did. One was knocked several feet back as the round struck his chest. Night Light ducked low behind the side plating on her side, getting in a proper combat cover stance.

The noise, the panic, the bullets, the hellish ride, it all became too much for Dawn. Her stomach finally mutinied against her, she felt it. Everything in her vacating at once, she choked out for air as the putrid bile rushed up her gullet, with a sickening belch and splatter her yellow tepid puke sprayed out onto the metal flooring, trickling through small seeps, covering the bullet casings in a coat of sick.

Dawn’s chin was laced with it, the corners of her mouth stained with the bile as the bitter residue left a lingering taste in her mouth.

“Dawn!” Night Light groaned, kicking the gooey vomit off the bottom of her hooves, her beautiful face scrunched up into an expression of disgust and resentment.

“Sorry.” Dawn meekly apologized, her vision unfocused as the strength dissipated from her body, seeping away, being replaced with a numbness as her head fogged up. Turning the whole scene into a blurry haze.

Worthy kept the fire up, the ponies on the hill finding some balls and gaining accuracy. The bullets banged and clanged sharply off the shielding, all just missing Worthy’s head as he blared his cannon back at them, sawing ponies in half with piping hot lead, booming away.

Night Light popped up from her cover, her Valkyrie’s scope pressed against her eye, it “Tak-Tak-Tak” ’d away. The rounds slowly ejected the breach, launching up with every silent tap of the trigger, switching targets constantly, she found it difficult to hit shit at this speed, a bullet whistled over her shoulder, striking fear into her she ducked back down. Swearing harshly under her breath.

“I need a bigger gun!” Night Light cried out through gritted teeth. Aggravated and inflamed at her lack of effect.

“Under the seat cushions!” Trouble shouted back, his head ducked low. Rico was next to him, pressed against the dash, his hind hooves jammed into the corner of his seat.The Red Queen rested between his arched knees, jutting up, watching the high six of the car. There was a concentrated and determined expression on his face.

The desert sand kicked up, gusts of the hot waves washed up onto the Rap Mobile as the road ceased. The searing hot powdery grains splashed against the metallic floor. The grains dinging as they impacted, the sand thickening the vomit puddle in the car, made denser by the smoking casings being spat from the machine gun.

The wave caked Night Light in the nearly baked white grains. She growled in frustration as she nearly slipped in the thickening puddle trying to pry open the cushions as the bullets whizzed around her. Finally the seat cushions sprang open and Night Light leaned into the small opening. a second later she let out a victorious cheer, she sprang out a wide grin spread across her face.

Wrapped in her shimmering silver telekinetic field was a bulky belt fed machine gun, a sleek thing of brutish beauty: heavy black metallurgy, a bipod tucked away under the barrel and a large combat scope mounted on the top.

“M-bucking-Sixty!” Night Light exclaimed in glee. She flicked the bipod free from under the barrel, banging it down onto the side plating. Hooking the bipod onto the plating as she rested herself as comfortably as she could, which wasn’t very. The sand waves beating down into her causing her to lose sight picture on the ponies. She grunted in frustration, popping the collar of her jacket to keep the annoyance of the sand free from her eyes.

Muzzles flared through the sand cloud, even as Worthy ceased fire. Night carefully took aim, trying to lead her target. A few seconds passed. Tired and fed up of waiting Night Light let loose a large maintained burst, the machine gun hammered away, Night Light wildly sprayed at where the flashes came from. The heavy thumping from the M60 ceasing the bright flares with its own loud, overwhelming sparks.

Dawn felt another deep rumbling in the pit of her stomach, some remnants of her insides rallied for their freedom.Her stomach rioting inside her, banging on the walls of her battered stomach. The curdling sensation causing Dawn to coil up as the puke slowly seeped around her, cocooning her in her own vomit sand stew.

Another wave of nausea kept her pinned down to the floor. The internal battling progressed and accelerated inside her, the aggressors battled their way out of her gut, the feeling vanishing for a split second, reappearing a second later at high velocity, barreling out her mouth. The vomit erupted from her half open mouth, splashing onto Night Light’s hooves. The runny bile trickled down on her hind hooves.

“Dawn! Stop puking! It’s disgusting!” Night Light roared at the fainting mare. Dawn’s vision flickered on and off, clinging to consciousness. The cloud of dust passed over them, finally coming back onto the solid road, the bumpiness of the road lessening slightly.

Worthy’s machine gun banged away and the gunfire between the two sides escalating once more. The ponies on the hill stood high and proud, in defiance to Worthy’s shelling. The lines of dozens of ponies fell to the ground, as the rounds sailed through the air, accompanied a second later by a splash of scarlet, hurdling a crumbled pony backwards through the air.

The V formation reappeared, disbanded into single cells and swarming the car as the griffins whirled around them in. Rico pumped a round into the Red Queen, his face curling into a snarl.

 “OK! Lets play Rough!” He roared. Pressing his back firmly against the dash he squeezed the trigger. The Red Queen erupted in a hateful roar, the pellets forming walls in the air. An unfortunate griffin whizzed past the barrage of pellets, immediately turning into a hunk of flying mush. The meat had an elegant glide through the air, coming to a majestic meaty splat into the desert sand, rolling into  a  runny red ball coated in a thin layer of brown.

Night Light continued firing on the hillside ponies, rarely hitting her target as they dropped low as soon as the bullets surged upwards towards the shooters.

The griffins whipped around in circles overhead, narrowly dodging the Red Queen’s walls of high velocity metal flying at them. Another griffin more foolish or suicidal than the others made a tight swoop, rushing the Rap Mobile with two machine pistols in its talons. Rico narrowly adjusted the Red Queen onto her, firing a single overwhelming burst. She desperately tried to rise up into the air, but to no avail. The pellets struck hard into her, shredding her wing in a puff of feathers and sanguine cloud. The downed flier let out a high, ear-splitting squawk of agony as it tumbled into the Rap Mobile. Crashing into the thick puke puddle, splashing it into Dawn’s face. Too weak to respond, she lay there immobilized.

Night Light kicked out in further disgust, spinning in alarm as the griffin squawked and cawed. In agony, it writhed and flailed in pain, splashing the puke around as it fought against an invisible foe.

The griffin let out panicked bursts from her machine pistols. The small pistols rounds hissed from the barrel in alarming doses. Night Light turned in panic, M60 at the ready her face curled into a malicious snarl. The griffin glanced at the murderous mare with frantic and frightened eyes. She instinctively kicked the puddle as hard as she could, splashing the thick stewy bile up into Night Light’s face. The Ranger dropped the machine gun with a yelp, the sandy vomit stinging into her eyes. Night Light cried out in shock as she began to claw at her face with her hooves, wiping the frothy puke free of her beautiful features.

The griffin rolled in the puke and raised a machine pistol to Night Light, letting loose a spray of lead. The pistol tapped away, the slide bouncing back and forth as the it spat fire at Night Light. The mare’s snarl fell into an expression of weariness as she tumbled backwards onto the seat. The machine pistol’s slide stayed locked in place; Night Light’s jacket was littered with bullet holes.

Worthy finally broke his focus on the hillside, realizing what had just happened. In a fluid motion he leapt from the turret, pouncing on the downed griffon .

The griffin kicked out in objection, cawing further as Worthy nailed her front paws to the floor, loosening her grip on the machine pistols. In a single powerful movement Worthy threw his hooves up, clapped them together and slammed down onto the griffin’s throat, severing the windpipe, the griffin’s eyes widened as it tried to suck in air, her muscular protruding chest, heaving and convulsing as her body pressed her for air, Worthy climbed off her, quickly brushing Night Light down onto the seat, as if she could be sleeping. The edges of Worthy’s cloak were stained by the sickly green-yellow vomit mixture.

The griffin gasped and clawed at her own throat, rocking on the ground, the griffin rocked onto her side, looking Dawn in the eye with her own wide quivering hazel eyes as she choked, her eyes began to roll behind her eyelids as its blood mixed with puke and sand, adding a tint of red to the thickening slimy liquid. The griffiness finally gave out. Her body finally caving in, the whites of her eyes pressed before Dawn. She was too sick to feel disgusted, or scared, only numb and weary.

“Ranger’s down!” Worthy cried out, leaving the mare where she was. He returned to the heavy machine gun, the smoke rising from the glowing red barrel. Bullets were whizzing overhead and all around, Worthy’s black turret shielding had at least eighty bright pimples in its skin. 

Trouble looked back to see the limp Night Light, the incapacitated Dawn and the dead griffin laying there, shredded wings outstretched, inches from Dawn’s head. “Awh Fuck!” Trouble swore loudly, everything going to shit around him.

“Rico, give the kid a shot of jet and keep the Ranger alive!” Trouble sternly ordered.

Rico leaned up, staring back into the rear of the Rap Mobile. He gagged when he saw the scene; the limp bodies, the sandy puke with the blood infusion with a sprinkling of brass cartridges as Worthy desperately fended off the onslaught.

Appalled, he cried in objection “It’s fucking disgusting! I ain’t going back there!”

“YOU FUCKING GET BACK THERE AND SAVE HER LIFE! OR I’LL GUT YOU MYSELF!” Trouble roared, pissed off by everything, feeling helpless.

Rico complied, more fearful of Trouble’s venomous rage than the bullets sailing overhead. Rico hurdled over his seat landing into the back of the Rap Mobile, wading through the pool of puke. He hunched over, grimacing as he kicked the sticky goo off his boots. He reached Dawn, figuring she’d be the better pony start with, readying a small syringe of jet.

Dawn’s vision flickered off and on, as the little lingering lights in her brain began to flick off one by one, lulling her into a mesmerizing sleep.

Rico uncapped the syringe, using his brown telekinetic wrap to tap the needle’s head several times. He jammed the syringe into her scarred hoof, forcing the miracle concoction into her veins.

He ripped the empty syringe free, lifting Dawn’s chin free of the hardening sticky puddle. Rico slapped her gently on the cheek “C’mon Dawn, c’mon, shit’s going down! C’mon!” The jet seeping into her blood, slowly creeping up on her, the sense still going from her body.

Then, the jolt hit. The numbness dissipated from her body, combusting into raw blood-pumping energy through her body. The energy coursing through her body, energizing every inch of her, jump starting her senses, bringing her back to the world.

Her vision sharpened dramatically. Every line, every blade of fur, every speck of sand and sweat was perceivable on Rico’s frazzled face. Dawn inhaled deeply through her nose, breathing in the putrid bitter stench and greedily sucking in the air. Nails dropping in the bit of her stomach with every ounce of air, now with a renewed dosage of energy she could push past the nausea, the pain, and utilize her much needed Jet induced finesse.

She forced herself up, her muscles supple and powerful, more so than ever before. Her eyes locked on to a black dot whirling through the air, coming in for a swoop. Her brow furrowed, sweeping Amigo free of his belt, chambering a round, she pushed past Rico, startling him, slipping into the stilted world of SATS, picking her shots. Two high calibre rounds were propelled down range, knocking the speck out of the air at incredible distance. The speck crashed into the ground in a puff of dust, the tension in Dawn’s face relaxed a brief moment as she reached for Bad News, reacquainting herself with her familiar friend, chambering a large round, ducking low on her side of the side armouring. Rico smirking at her in disbelief at how she simply with a single needle turned into a fierce warrior, from pitiful semi-conscious mare.

Rico refocused, his face growing concerned and serious as he loomed over the sleeping wounded, maybe even dead ranger. Rico rested his hoof on her neck, waiting several seconds before declaring “She’s alive!” he ripped open her perforated jacket, underneath was a forest green thick combat vest littered with the tiny bullets, none visibly piercing.

“In fact, she’s fine!” Rico cried out, relief spreading across his face “Just out, nothing for that.” he grinned, before quickly thinking, Rico shoved Night Light’s M60 next to Dawn as he pushed past Worthy back to his seat “Keep heat off us!” he shouted back to her, swinging one hoof over the seats, sluggishly climbing back in, exposed, a bullet slammed into his side, knocking him dumbstruck as he tumbled back into his seat, the Red Queen bouncing next to him. Coming to his senses a minute later, only aware of what had happened as he clutched his side and winced, grinding his teeth as he tightly shut his eyes, writhing in pain.

“Rico!” Trouble cried out in alarm, seeing his passenger bleed, the bullet just hitting a gap between his armour plates “Fack Mah Fackin Life, You Fackin’ Silly Cunts!” Rico raged in a gruff accent, his forced grammar and etiquette evaporating, rolling on the ground, covering the wound with his vomit smeared fore hoof.

He pushed himself up, grunting with every pain inducing movement, forcing himself onto his seat, he reached for one of the small bottles of ‘Demon’ levitating it up by his head “I’m too fackin nice, enough a’ this bollocks!” he growled smashing the bottle on the dash, the glass shattering into a million tiny crystal shards, the gunk inside the tube crumbled into powder, sticking to the dash. Rico swung his head whacking it firmly into the dash, rubbing his nostrils into the small mound of pale powder, sweeping his head side to side, snorting and sniffing until he worked his way down to the warm hard dash.

He threw his head up, eyes burning with a new flair, his face from the lips up masked in the pale powder, giggling maniacally, his brain burning, all his senses in flames as the overwhelming warmth flooded his body.

“A WHOLE LOT OF PONIES GONNA DIE!!!” Rico triumphantly roared at the top of his lungs, reaching for his beautifully crafted carbine ‘Overture’ swinging her into the skies as he stood high and proud on his seat on his hind hooves, holding his forehooves outstretched proudly, a quivering manic grin on his face.

“Fillies And Gentlecolts! The moment you’ve all been waiting for!” he cried out ecstatically.

One griffin from the pack took a shot at him swooping inwards, the bullet struck his left shoulder, recoiling him, but not much else.

Rico’s grin turned into a hellish snarl “DON’T FUCK WITH ME!!!” He roared hoarsely, Overture tapped into life, firing a single controlled round at the griffin, decapitating it as it crashed into the dust tracks behind them. Rico giggled through gritted teeth, a moment later swivelling his rifle telekinetically all around him, his eyes not moving, the rifle homing in on all the griffins, tapping away with a beautiful ring from the rifle, the skulls of the swarming griffins snapping back as each round cracked their skulls, sending them tumbling into the dirt with insane accuracy. Rico giggling to himself, his chest heaving, his outstretched hooves almost presenting the show, the falling angels, plummeting to the earth from their perch atop the heavens.

The swarm dispersed, fleeing high back into the sky “As for me next trick!” Rico yelled out joyously, ejecting the magazine from his rifle, quickly topping up at an amazing pace, before the empty mag had hit the floor a fresh round was injected into the chamber.

Dawn got to work on the hillside ponies, climbing over Night Light, resting on her place, the Jet guiding her every squeeze, every twitch of the scope, with deadly results, tapping away at the trigger in bursts, smiting the ponies down, collapsing over, Worthy proving less efficient than her. His heavy machine gun glowing a bright red, its rate of fire lowering with every passing shot, Worthy struggling more and more as the road narrowed, more and more targets appearing.

Dawn felt a nagging sense, something making her feel at unrest, maybe it was the jet, but maybe it was. Dawn threw her eye away from the M60’s scope, the glass cutting her neck a half a second later later as the glass exploded, a bullet piercing the lens.

Dawn collapsed onto the seat, shaking, dropping the M60, looking out on the clear side, breathing steadily, listening to the thumping of her heart in her ears. The constant disorienting drone of gunfire making her teeth itch. The jet made the gunk pooled on the floor seem colourful, pleasant. The constant rippling as the puddle turned to jelly, every fresh round from Worthy being absorbed into the hive.

She smiled to herself, the rounds banging into the side armouring behind her, barely covering her skull, she looked up to Rico, the stallion was busy basking in the moment, enjoying the praise by an invisible audience. Autonomously snapping his neck to the right he cried out “There they are!” twisting his body to face ‘they’.

Dawn turned her head slowly to see to whom he was referring to, her eyes widened, taking in the spectacle, her pupils shrinking in her head as the gears behind her eyes spinning wildly. A horde of charging ponies in shabby sickly green armour with a blue trim, same as the griffins, except, much more worthless, it consisted of a green and blue dirty shirt and a small metal panel around their shoulders, fastened with belts acting as poor, primitive armour. Waves of them, toting around small pistols in their mouths, others with nothing visible at all, instead carrying saddle bags, the unicorns among them (Which numbered very few) carried pairs of pistols, all galloping towards the Rap Mobile.

Rico faced them, fearlessly, Overture at his side “C’mon, c’mon, I know what you got for me, just show it, c’mon.” he murmured, sweat pouring down his face, merely staring at the oncoming waves, the scattered group homing in, barely keeping pace alongside the Rap Mobile. Dawn amazed they weren’t outstripped after seconds.

One of the ponies reached his head into his saddlebags, still galloping full speed to catch up, his head emerging a second later, a grenade in his maw “Bout Fackin Time!” Rico exclaimed.

The first line of the unarmed ponies all revealed their munitions, all Rico done was look at them bemused, the pistol wielding ponies firing wide shots, missing drastically, spraying aimlessly. And all Dawn did was watch Rico watch them, as Worthy slaved away on the hillside shooters.

The line moved in closer and closer to the Rap Moble, keeping close proximity to each other, all of them terrified. Knowing any second their lives could be ended, all it would've taken was Dawn to pop her head up, but she didn’t.

 Rico shrugged firing another single round from Overture into the maw of the closest of the grenade ponies. The bullet whistled through the air, striking the grenade.

“tink”

The entire line erupted in a concussive blast, black smoke billowing high into the sky as all the air seemed to be sucked from Dawn’s lungs, then thrown back at her, winding her. The entire wave of ponies disappearing, the boom rocking Dawn’s vision, shaking the Rap Mobile, disabling her eardrums replacing all sound with a high pitch ring.

The blast wiping out every thought stream that was running through her jet fuelled brain, crashing her train of thought in a fiery wreck.

She found out where the bodies disappeared to.

Thick red drops of rain showered from the sky, drenching her in sanguine, the red rain washing into the vomit. Less than twenty four hours ago she was squeaky clean, now she was doused in gore, trudging in her own vomit, rocking a jet ride as a thousand rounds a second whizzed all around her brain.

Rico was blown backwards in the concussive shock wave, hurled into the bottom of his hoof room, giggling like a fool to himself, the red rain splashing off the Rap Mobile’s interior.

“Oh for fuck’s sake! I just got this out of the bastarding garage!” Trouble angrily swore, beating his steering wheel in frustration.

The blood shower ended as quickly as it began, the punishment on the Rap Mobile at least halved since the red rain fell from the heavens. Rico jumped back up onto his high stance on his seat, taking triumphant bows, a smug satisfied expression on his face.

The rain had stained Dawn’s newly coloured mane, turning the illustrious gold and striking blue braid into a wet bright red. That bothered her, she looked down to Night Light, the mare was caked in blood and sand, caking the sanguine to her body.

“She’s going to be mad when she wakes up.” Dawn muttered to herself, still sitting idle, waiting for her brain to reboot.

“Rico! the griffins!” Trouble reminded the stallion, Rico abruptly ceased his bravado performance, averting his gaze to the heavens, his pupils reduced to pinpricks in his eyes.

They were soaring back down, the remaining dozen or so, looking for vengeance against their decimated brethren. Swooping down in a long dive in two separate columns. Rico swivelled Overture in a single blur over to the Griffins, the gun lowered top his hip.

“Duck Hunt! Rico declared in an electrified voice.

Overture tapped into life, the precision weapon began to thin the ranks on both columns, switching in quick snaps between the two, scoring headshots non stop, dropping them like flies.

The griffins speed magnified as they levelled out, dashing alongside the Rap Mobile, Rico struggling to keep up as Dawn sat mystified, mouthing “Ooohh.” with wide eyes.

Rico’s grin turned to a fierce scowl as they overwhelmed him and outstripped his rifle, only 4 remaining. The hillside ponies ceased their bombardment as the line ran out, Worthy spun the turret around to face the griffins, slowly twisting, or maybe the Jet made it seem that way.

Rico’s rifle clicked, the magazine spent, alarmed Rico dropped the rifle reaching for his Uzi. A griffin revealed a small metal tube with a wooden stock “Brace!” Worthy cried out.

The griffin slammed itself into the ground as brakes and fired the tube with a loud “Ta-hump!” a small cylinder propelled forward, striking the undercarriage of the car. Launching the Rap Mobile into the air.

The world blurred as everything at once shook violently, toppling, tumbling and capsizing, Dawn’s ears rang as the world deformed before her. Her weight lift her, being replaced by the rush of wind and heat. The putrid puddle splattering into an exploding pulp. The bullet  casings suspended in the air, a large shadow cast itself over everything in this disoriented contorted world, followed by a harsh metallic screech and then. Blackness.

_____________________________________________________________________

Dawn was in a void, blackness, aware of the blackness, only a tiny flicker of consciousness, a small spark of sense and light in the dark nonsensical void. All that could be heard was the deafening sound of silence.

In the far distance of the void, miles upon miles away, out past the horizon was a tiny speck of light, a single ray penetrating the darkness. Sound accompanied it, a muffled drone, stuttered noises, the ray intensified, crawling closer and closer, igniting Dawn’s senses.

Dawn’s was hurled back into her body, her eyes unfocused. Her entire body aching terribly, being dragged along, shoulder to shoulder with a familiar striped red stallion.

“You need ta stop fuckin droppin’, its getting anooyin’.” Trouble grunted out, hefting her along, his voice barely comprehensible through her drowned out eardrums. Her vision sharpened, the jet still running strong in her blood, but she was still disoriented.

She took in her surroundings, all around her was the puke puddle over the coarse desert sand, she was somehow in a ditch being dragged back to the road, she craned her neck up, her neck straining with the effort. The Rap Mobile had been knocked onto its side, the wheels still spinning.

Trouble dumped her against the thick metal hood of the car, back propped up as her head lolled on her shoulders, dazed and confused. Trouble drew both his revolvers, the white and black pair, Dawn looked to her left, the group was all there.

Worthy, his cloak stained with vomit, blood and sand, his mask was no longer equipped, he was busy tending to the unconscious Night Light.

Rico was giggling like a fool, pacing back and forth about as bullets struck the undercarriage of the Rap Mobile, his rifle and the Red Queen missing.

“Y’all grand?” Trouble asked, wiping sweat and blood from his brow.

“Fine, as is the Ranger.” Worthy answered, his hoof holding up Night Light’s chin as he inspected her.

“Grand? Nah, don’t be a wanker China, I’m fackin mint! I’m gravy mate, fackin gravy.” Rico exclaimed ecstatically, jumping up and down on the spot, a wild look in his eyes.

Trouble crouched down low to Dawn, sitting on his haunches, he looked her sincerely in the eye, slapping her gently on the cheek, trying to rouse her “Kid, geddup, dun nay fuck us ‘ere.” Trouble uttered, resting Amigo into her lap, taking the Black Rook for himself.

Dawn’s body slowly booted up, her awareness crawled back into place after such a hard hitting displacement. She let out an involuntary moan as the pain stepped up a notch with every light coming back on in her brain.

“Atta girl.” Trouble said happily, clapping her on the shoulder, pulling her onto her hooves. Every inch of her felt weaker than it should’ve felt, no single shot of Jet would suffice, she’d need a second dose.

Rico greedily licked the powder mask off his face. rubbing the powder off in a cloud with his hoof, licking it up, his eye twitching at the ingestion.

Rico picked his Uzi up off the ground, yanking the bolt back, ejecting a round. He peeked around the corner, he let out a gleeful giggle “Allo, allo,” he jovially said.

“What?” Trouble asked, staring seriously at Rico.

“We got hostile motors Bruv, fackin plenty of em, fourish.” Rico declared, lines of shooter ponies building on the road, in prone positions firing randomly at the Rap Mobile

Dawn swayed as she struggled to control her balance on her hooves. Hovering Amigo at her side, Bad News still on her back.

“Fuck my life.” Trouble muttered under his breath “Okay! Rico start dropping em, Worthy flank em’! Kid you with me?” he whispered to her.

The fog in Dawn’s head began to thin, the gunfire elevated in volume as the gravity of the situation sank in.She sluggishly slung Bad News from her back, slowly chambering a round, her horn burning with the most minimalist of performances.

“Are you with me!?” Trouble repeated, shaking her this time. Knocking her further from her swamped, clouded mind.

Dawn gave a brisk rigid nod, back in the game, the jet the only thing keeping her afloat. Without it she’d be out, maybe dead, it made her function normally, like rousing from sleep.

“Start fuckin’ shootin!” Trouble ordered. Growling, Dawn looked around her, Worthy had vanished, Rico was pacing angrily about, waving his hooves out in anger, riling himself up, stomping the ground, waving his Uzi about.

“Rico, ya pumped!?” Trouble shouted out, pumping both barrels with the explosive shells.

“The whole fackin team is pumped! Me, Myself and  I!” Rico exclaimed, riding the flames of the demon burning inside him. The blood pouring down onto his armour, giving the black armour a glistening crimson shine, maybe it was Dawn’s imagination but, it was sizzling.

Rico peeked around the corner, his uzi prodding out. He beamed ecstatically, a harsh rumbled could be heard drowning out the gunfire, four rusted vehicles screeched to a halt, ponies wearing proper combat armour dismounted, nine a vehicle. One on the turret.

The vehicles were long, poorly armoured and maintained, longer than the Rap Mobile and boasted an LMG on a tripod.

“Rico! Draw some fuckin’ fire, Imma melt the fuckin line! Kid give em help!” Trouble declared, hunched over on his hind hooves, facing out past the hood of the Rap Mobile.

Dawn complied, Rico ducking back behind the Rap Mobile, crouching on the lopsided seating, licking his lips, giving the puke at his hooves a thousand yard stare. “Rico?” she quietly asked timidly.

He slowly twisted his neck to stare at her, his expression unreadable. “Allo, Dawn.” he nonchalantly answered her.

“I don’t think I can do this.” she shyly told him shaking her head. Every gunshot chiselling away at her confidence. The drugs addling her, reducing her expressive capabilities.

Rico chuckled happily to himself, rising up, stretching, flexing his shoulders, Uzi hovering next to him, barrel turned to the air. He gingerly approached Dawn, disregarding the situation, smiling warmly at her as he planted a reassuring hoof on her shoulder.

Rico cleared his throat, his smile never faltering. Dawn found herself smiling back, calmed by the stallion, a friendly stallion.

Rico let out a shallow breath, “You know what Dawn?”

“What?” she asked him, bemused by his little game.

Rico’s pupils flared up, his grip on her shoulder tightening, “We’s gonna die! Hahaha!” Rico roared furiously, laughing maniacally, he leapt backwards, Dawn in tow out of the cover crashing into the dirt in the open. Dawn rolled off Rico panicking, the jet launched into supersonic speeds, invigorating Dawn, the stallion giggling on the ground exuberantly.

Dawn climbed up, Bad News readied, Amigo drawn at her hip, there were scores of them, ponies clad in the shabby green and blue armour. Pissy poor quality weaponary, old bolt actions held together by duct tape and aged adhesive gels, they reminded Dawn of the rifle Brick Jaw carried on her first day out here.

 the ones by the vehicles were clad in proper combat armour like Rico’s only thicker at the chest and thinner at the extremes like the Griffins.

The vehicle’s turrets homed in on them, all four at once narrowing in on Dawn, her heart thumping powerfully in her chest, Bad News span in a wide circle, firing away wildly. The semi automatic weapon pounded away killing all turret gunners in a single split second, Dawn herself quivered with the raw adrenaline surging through her.

Rico’s eyes shot wide open, his horn flaring to life in an overglow. The side compartment of the Rap Mobile sprang out, the long rail Duct Tape showed off, filled with their gear, the metal bottom providing cover for the prone stallion, laying like a plank on the desert floor.

Bullets struck home hard on the metal, their gear thankfully facing them. Dawn dropped into the desert floor, smacking her cheek on the scorching sand. The bullets whistling through the air over her head, the warm breeze heating her to an uncomfortable temperature.

Trouble was in the clear, all guns were pinned on the two behind the metal covers. Trouble took several breaths, focusing up. The straps on his pistol belt undone, revolvers cocked in their holsters.

He kicked off the ground, propelling himself forward, leaping into the ground, time slowed.

There was dozens, dead ponies on the turrets of his targets, jutting out from the undercarriage of the poor vehicles was a hung low metal tank. His breathing low and steady he levelled the clunky scope’s crosshairs onto the tank of the car to his far left, all them sitting pretty in a neat little line.

Mid air he squeezed both barrels, the shotgun blasting him backwards off course as the two silver cylinders sailed from the shotgun, inbound for the tank. The two cylinders piercing the thin corroded metal, the impact striking the small detonators on the shells.

The vehicle flipped several times, shooting high up into the air in a purging fireball. Metal ripped free of the corpse car, the heated scrap shooting out of the vehicle in all directions, striking down, wounding and disorienting the ponies. The fireball consuming all those unfortunate enough to be near it as the car crashed back down to earth, the screech of tearing metal as the car was pancaked into the asphalt.

Trouble still in a concentrated trance pumped the weighty weapon, injecting two more silver cylinders into the breach. Taking aim for the next vehicle, confident he squeezed the triggers, crashing into the ground, having been blown drastically off course with the sheer force of the weapon.

The shells destroyed their mark, the car propelled forward, spinning wildly in a beautiful fiery circle, the jagged metal spitting free of it, crashing down a moment later on a line of poor disorientated shooters in the shabby armour, crushing the poor bastards, their screams of terrified objections cut short by the bodywork compressing their bodies, shattering every bone in their bodies.

The ponies were in disarray, scampering and scrambling desperately about, many discarding their rifles, the combat armoured ponies with their better weapons kept their collective heads.

Trouble spun on the ground, rising to one knee, pumping the Black Rook when the ponies finally took notice of him. Trouble fired a single barrel at a pony who had him in his sights, vaporizing his chest as the pony’s disconnected limbs shot outwards from him.

The blood spray causing the pony next to him to recoil in horror as the gore stained him. Shutting his eyes in disgust let out a high pitched whine as he tumbled over, flailing in repulsion.

Trouble rose onto his hind hooves, taking aim for the next car’s gas tank, taking careful aim. The gunfire dying out with the confusion and carnage. Until.

“BANG!”

“Bang-Bang!!!”

Trouble dropped the Black Rook to his side, the bullets knocking the wind out of him as he staggered back behind the Rap Mobile. Two griffins passed overhead, one carrying a combat shotgun, the other a pair of pistols. Trouble slid down the hood of the car unto his rump, the pellets from the shotgun blast lodged in the skin of his armour. The pistol rounds digging deeper, cracking his rips.

Dawn saw the flyers, still on the ground she kicked herself around, peering down the silver sights of Amigo, the ever decreasing flying specks shrinking in her sights. Slipping into the magic of SATS.

“Bang! Bang!” She let two shots ring out, the SATS performing as it always did, wonderfully. The griffin on the left plummeted from the air, crashing in an undisclosed location far from her, the other broke away, rising back high up past the cloud cover.

The cloaked pony reappeared behind the lines of ponies, the calm malevolent dark figure, standing unnoticed amongst the fearful ponies. His cloak brushed back exposing a small tongue of blue flame burning perpetually as it slobbered  burning hot liquid.

“Worthy! Burn em!” Trouble howled out grinding his teeth in anger.

A second later the figure complied, Worthy’s grin matching that of his mask’s, the small tongue jutting from the cloak erupting in a cleansing green and blue flame, the colours entwined as the jets engulfed the ponies, high pitch screams ringing out as the squeals were cut short as their vocal chords were scorched to cinders in their throats.

Worthy whipped around, spraying the purifying flame in a wide wave, covering the lines, the vehicles, the shooters, the desert in a coat of impossibly hot flame. The combusted gel that doused them sticking to their bodies as they flailed and floundered, cascading to the ground in a flaky black burnt pile in a puff of ash.

The searing flames were mere feet from the Rap Mobile and Dawn was overwhelmed with the heat, sweat developed into a pool around her, saturating the desert sand beneath her.

The flames ceased, the pretty blue and green jets disappeared, suspended in the air a moment before disappearing, all that lingered was the small tongue just hovering from Worthy’s cloak. All the power retreating backwards, like the small little flame merely threw a tantrum and was back to being soothed as it snuggled against its master’s cold embrace.

Trouble pushed himself onto his hind hooves, resting the Black Rook against the hot hood of the Rap Mobile, the purple paint trickling in thick droplets off the body work with the immense heat waves generated by Worthy. A thick black smoke column rising up from the scorched earth, the ponies amalgamated into it, bound eternally to the earth they were born into.

Dawn climbed onto her hooves, the smoke stinging her eyes as she struggled to breath, the smoke forcing pressure on her lungs. In the midst of the smoke was the dark figure striding from the sullen plumes, the fierce eyes drilling into Dawn’s mind, haunting her.

Trouble rounded the Rap Mobile, entering a ditch, appearing a moment later with his beloved Red Queen cradled in his forehooves as he sauntered back onto the road on his hind hooves, brushing the dirt off the flame vinyl attentively.

Meeting his brother on approach, Worthy offering him Overture in a clenched hoof, Trouble refusing it. “Why ‘o’ why did that happen?” Trouble began moaning “A: we just fucking hit the road and B: I thought we killed the fuckin’ Grosavics.”

Worthy replied “Not all, there was word of them rising up, still as inept and overconfident as always.”

“Look at her.” Trouble said forlornly walking around his battered and bruised car.

He rested a sympathizing hoof on her, ignoring the heat “She was jus’ outta the shop, spruced up and prettier than ever. Now look at her.” more melancholy over his tarnished ‘Rap Mobile’ than the mound of scorched ponies behind it.

“The Lord works in mysterious ways Trouble.” Worthy commented resting a reassuring hoof on his brother’s shoulder.

“Really? Looks like shite luck to muhself.” Trouble responded defensively.

“Blessed are they who maintain justice, who constantly do what is right. It ain’t luck brother, its divine judgement.” Worthy confidently recited.

“Fuck you and that old book, gi’ss us a hoof preacher.” Trouble said, bracing to push the Rap Mobile off its side.

Worthy got alongside his brother in an identical stance.

“Three, two, Heave!” Trouble groaned, shoving the car with strained muscles, veins pressed against his skin. Worthy forcing the car with his shoulder, his hooves dug firmly into the dirt.

The Rap Mobile creaked and moaned in objection, before finally, giving. Crashing back down to its proper four wheeled position, bouncing on its thick heavy duty tires. The rail near the rear Dawn and Rico used for cover sprang up and down, the gear almost being jettisoned free.

Rico climbed off the dirt, inhaling deeply, sucking in the noxious air. The burning behind his eyes petering out, matted in his own blood and that of the blood rain. Night Light’s unconscious body falling onto the desert floor.

Trouble moaned, rolling his eyes as he picked up the mare, her body caked in blood and sand, slinging her over his shoulder he dropped her over the high side plating onto the seats with a loud “THUD”

Rico strutted flamboyantly over to the two brothers, swaying with each step.

“Smells like vict-” he abruptly was cut off as his body halted all operations, his head facing the sky as his eyes rolled into the back of his head, his body impacting limply onto the hard cracked asphalt.

Trouble moaned even louder this time, throwing his eyes in a wide over the top roll, twisting his neck “Fuckin’ young fellas can’t handle their substances.” he complained, scooping the tall yet light stallion into his grip.

“Awh, he’s bleedin’ all over muh!” Trouble moaned, despite being covered in dirt, blood, puke and sweat tossing Rico into the back after Night Light, Dawn couldn’t help to find that funny yet cruel.

Dawn looked into the horizon approaching the brothers, too awkward to make eye contact, the sun was falling out of the sky, it seemed they spent the entire day under heavy fire, back to the wasteland then. Only now, things were escalated.

Worthy and Trouble were standing idly at the passenger door to the Rap Mobile, Trouble leaning over peering in the back, a pained expression on his face.

Dawn opened her mouth about to speak before Trouble cut her off “Fuck-a-duck kid, how the fuck does a mare so small puke so much?” he complained in disbelief, grieving for his car. Dawn peeked over into the back, well, it wasn’t THAT bad.

The puke puddle had been more or less removed in the flips, only a few hardened lumps here and there, the seats were covered in blood patches from the rain, and it was only after she pulled away did she realize her chin and lower face was still covered in hardened bile.

Rico and Night Light lay on top of one another in a lifeless pile, the turret was splashed in the yellow vomit giving it a sickening, stinking coat, the M60 was fine, she didn’t know how, but there it lay, looking cold, black and fierce.

She sank down back below the side plating, unable to stop herself she sank lower still, crumbling down onto her haunches, Worthy’s eyes tracking her all the way down.

Dawn managed to rest herself against the bodywork of the Rap Mobile, resting her head on the still warm metal armour. Uneven and rough with its bullet cracked skin, almost every inch of it littered with crushed metal rounds.

“Annnnnd, there she goes.” Worthy said in anticipation of Dawn’s implosion. She didn’t understand, she felt fine, it just. Her body, stopped.

Trouble broke his attention off the mess in his car to Dawn, unlike the others he crouched down low, checking on her, lifting his chin, gazing into her eyes.

“Exhaustion.” Worthy diagnosed.

“Yeah, we’ll feed her when she comes around.” Trouble declared, dropping her chin, her head lolling down onto her chest.

“Girl done good right?” Trouble asked optimistically.

“No, but, if you say she’s ‘it’ I guess she is.” Worthy answered, instantly deflating his brother.

“She’ll come into her own soon, she’s a natural. I’m going to tune into the Buck Himself and you can get me some damn food, starved.” Trouble announced, climbing into the Rap Mobile, fiddling with the radio. Dawn heard it crackle to life as her vision darkened in the corners. Her thought stream coming to a close.

“You’re as hopeful and deadly as you are fat and old.” Worthy joked, chuckling mechanically.

“Yeah yeah, you won’t be saying that when you’re the only one crying at my funeral.” Trouble countered, everything becoming silent as the grave as the familiar raspy and suave voice filled the air.

“Got more news today, none of it good, sorry folks.” the pony forlornly stated, clearing his throat “The battle for the ‘Bridge’ is ongoing, Purist forces have been putting up heavy resistance as the battlefield and I quote has become ‘FUBAR’ casualties estimated in the hundreds already. In other news, reports of Grosavics in the Marizona region have been put to rest as an entire battle group was sighted bombarding Route Forty Three on the road to Germaney from Pegas. Their target unknown, but it’s suspected that a special forces team were deployed to spearhead the attack on Germaney, details remain sketchy. This is the Buck Himself, signing off.” The broadcast ceased, Dawn’s vision along with it, the final thing she heard before drifting off was the echoing voice of Trouble.

“Ya know what? I’ve missed total war.”

Quest Completed: “Back in the Saddle”

Quest Added: “The Bridge”