Chapter 20.5: Roadside Picnic

“You’re fucking disgusting.” The Figure remarked, appalled.

“It's hardly my fault my stomach is so soft.” Dawn defended shrugging.

“Nopony, nopony has a stomach like you, fuck me.”  The Figure moaned burying his head into his crossed forehooves.

Dawn just lay back in her chair, popping several joints in her neck from her poor posture.

She had to have been here days by now, double digit hours at least. Hunger was settling in but she was used to it. There was no time in here, just the darkness and the Figure’s willingness to continue.

The Figure lifted his head, throwing Dawn’s horrific performance to the back of his mind

“Right now I’m guessing Jet Stream enters. Correct?”

“Yeah, soon anyway. He was doing sweeps of the bridge, giving all the others some aerial cover. Us too for a while.” Dawn answered making meaningless gestures with her forehooves.

The Figure sighed wearily reaching into his jacket pocket exposing another brown folder.

Dawn had to wonder ‘How many of these things could he fit in that suit!?’

The Figure splashed the folder open on the table, scattering the contents, exposing a short profile and a small picture. Dawn hoofed the picture over to her, she squinted down at it.

Dawn instantly smirked, It was him alright.

It was a picture of a passed out maroon pegasus limp in a wooden chair, a huge white mohawk weighing his head down. Drooling a trail of saliva from his agape mouth, the same turbine on his flank just barely visible. He was naked in this photo, one of his hazel eyes half open. Dawn had to wonder what kind of pony  went up and took a snap of him passed out on a bender.

She quickly glances over his profile synopsis

Name: Jet Stream

Aliases: Nil

Nationality: Unknown (Suspected Marizona)

Sex: Male

Age: Presumed 18

Affiliations: Trottingham Boot Boys

Sounded like him alright, these profiles just seemed to be stolen and watered down accounts from the business dossier Trouble had distributed. Then it hit Dawn, her own stupidity.

When she first woke up she denied claims of knowing Trouble, of course they fucking knew about her and him, half of Marizona did. ‘Well... I dun goofed.’ she thought.

“Of course he was always a...” The Figure thought for the appropriate wording  “Lets call him a ‘problem child’, all he seemed to do for your ‘Family’ was stir shit and cause problems.” The Figure stated.

“He was still Family.” Dawn responded disinterested in the Figure, still gleaning over the profile.

The Figure snorted, “What ever you say.”

“We done gossiping?” Dawn asked looking up, a serious expression on her face.

“Hmph, that's more like it. Take us to when you woke up I wan-” The Figure cut himself off, raising one of his black steel digits to his ear, turning his head.

He began mumbling quietly in response “Yes, yes, I see. Unavoidable, unexpected, roger... Right.” he straightened himself up, clearing his throat.

“Your buddies Donn and Jet Stream have been reported in Phoenix.” The Figure randomly stated, was that what the call was about?

“Huh?” Dawn cocked an eyebrow in bewilderment. The fuck were they doing there!? Where the fuck was Trouble!? Night Light!? The Goddessforsaken Worthy!? None of this made sense! Why the sudden split? The sudden abandonment?

“As for Trouble and the Ranger, they’re still off the map.” he added, “Now take me to when you woke I want to kno-”

“Woah woah woah,” Dawn quickly interrupted, cutting him off with a raised hoof “What about Worthy? Where were they last spotted? The Rap Mobile? anything.” She pleaded desperate for any information.

The Figure huffed “Worthy was last spotted in Pegas, before you went out on your last ‘mission’.” he said making quotation marks with his digits.

 “Before you were lifted, Trouble vanished and so did Night Light , she wasn’t with you when we got you. Now I’ve already told you too much, now you tell me something.” he ordered sternly.

Dawn smirked “See? Meeting each other halfway.” she happily put it, gently fitting both her forehooves together smiling up at the Figure sweetly.

“Yeah, yeah, cut your shit and tell me what I want to know, a proper account of The Bridge, not the usual embellished bullshit from bars.”

“You’ll have it, the assault lasted fucking hours, we were all in pieces after it, I found out why we were packing so much gear. Really” she smirked ”You’d like it.”

_____________________________________________________________________

“Ow.” Dawn groaned as she came back to the bleakness of the world, her brain shattered.

She was sitting comfortable in the front passenger seat of the Rap Mobile, her head rested on the hard dash as a tendril of cold saliva tethered her to the machine.

Her muscles cried out for respite as they burned inside her, she wasn’t in the mood for their moaning. Her eardrums slowly came out of lock down, the muffled sounds that bounced off her ears slowly permeating into sharp syllables.

“No no, the real killing will be in drugs, strong and undiluted product.” rang out a voice Dawn identified as Rico, her brain was still decrypting it all through the haze.

“No, best watered down everything, more product marked up prices, higher profit. I still stand that all the money is going to be in gun running, the Hero Maker is going to be all over this place soon, we need a competitor to make ourselves look better.” Worthy interjected.

Dawn was slowly deciphering the topic of the conversation.

“Stronger product, I stand by it. All it would take is one good drug pony to know what we’re doing, but if we give them a hard hit, repeat business is guaranteed and our competitors undermined. It's best to be the best.” Rico countered.

“Point stands, we’re in  Pegas in the Ponave, they’re in Phoenix Marizona, if we’re dealing, it’s in bulk. Either that or we go through trading companies.” That was Trouble, she was sure of it.

“We sell guns then by the unit versus the kilo.” Worthy asserted audibly stomping his hoof against the side of the Rap Mobile.

“What's the difference between the kilo and the unit?” Rico asked a little unsure.

“A unit is the weapon and one full load of ammunition, there is differing rates for the different units on offer, whereas if we sell by the kilo the heavier weapons will go for more and ammo sold separately, but it will be at a universal set rate per kilo.” Worthy comprehensively answered.

“I got fuck all of that Worthy, Trouble? Can you help me out?” Rico responded puzzled.

“I dunno, I never fucking took economics.” he answered.

Worthy groaned “Well excuse me for bothering my ass studying, trust me with the guns, I’ll let you handle the drug end of things.”

“I can’t believe you guys are serious about this!” That was Night Light, shocked and disgruntled.

“The price of assistance and support from the family is the continued and combined effort of supporting and assisting the business of the family.” Worthy simply stated.

 “You point a hoof I’ll kill the pony, but if we need cap flow, you cannot stop us. You want to kill all the purists you can get your hooves on, I want as many caps as I can get my hooves on, now lets go back to business.” That was Worthy in a flat and serious tone.

Dawn lifted her head an inch from the dash, her neck trembling terribly under the strain, her muscles pulled taught, putting severe pull on her joints, with a jolt of strength she threw herself back into the chair. Groaning involuntarily as her back impacted on the soft leather as she sank into it. Her aches melting away.

“Dawn’s up.” Rico spotted, testing around to look over the exhausted small mare, “Best we leave her in the dark ‘bout this.”

“No,” Trouble objected “she deserves to know.”

Dawn twisted her neck around painfully to face the group, it was the three stallions standing in a triangle speaking, Night Light was sat on the hood of the car, the blood mopped off her, everyone was cleaned. Even her, she had no idea when or how it happened, but her armour was practically glistening.

“Tell her we wasted half our water on her ability to puke.” Rico added. Well, that cleared things up.

Dawn’s vision finally sharpened up, bringing everything into a meagre focus. They were somewhere else, a flat expanse of desert, the searing breeze carrying the white hot specks of sand in the gust. The large scarlet and yellow striped stallion she knew neared her, approaching on his hind hooves, a small crumpled cigarette in his cupped grip.

“Howya hangin’ kid?” he asked in his usual strange jovial accented voice.

Dawn’s eyes tracked him as her mouth hung agape, her mind still clouded and cast in a shroud of... Mind fuzz.

“Nuuughhh.” she groaned, her brain unable to form words.

Trouble’s eyebrows rose, his face reading ‘Oh Really?’ he took out the familiar flask and offered it to her. Before rolling his eyes at his own stupidity, forcing the nozzle into her mouth, she couldn’t resist.

She hated this damn drink, but it always ended up in her mouth. The same bitter hard kicking drink burning her throat, overloading her tongue.  The overwhelming fluid ran down her throat without resistance, gushing down into her stomach, like a match plummeting into a barrel of oil.

Her stomach revolted, as if it hadn’t been through enough already. The drink did what it always did though, besides taste like acidic piss; ease her up and numb the pain.

 The liquid speared the haze in her head, clearing a narrow passageway of interpretation.

She coughed half a dozen times after the first wave of it, Trouble quickly pulled it out, stowing it on him once more, he slapped her on the back, helping her get it all up.

“Thats it! Get it up.” Trouble encouraged enthusiastically.

Dawn began to get a steady breathing pattern, she stretched out her hooves, the joints creaking like rusty hinges, popping and cracking. She yawned loudly, finally realizing: It was nearly dusk.

She was back in the world, barely, but back.

“What?” She replied, snapping out of a small trance.

“Can you get a fire going? I don’t want to cook on a chemical one.”

Night Light nodded and leapt off the car, wandering into the expanse, Rico pulled himself out a small bottle of beer and sat his rump down on the sand, enjoying a pleasant desert afternoon. Worthy let out a tired sigh, his hood pulled down, he slowly rounded to the back of the Rap Mobile to get what he needed.

“You awrite?” Trouble asked her sincerely, climbing into the driver’s seat.

She nodded briskly.

“Good, we were, jus’ discussin’, shite, of the, business, nature.” he slowly informed her, finding the best way to word it, which was poorly.

“Huh?” she asked in confusion.

“Talkin’ business with the gang.” he said more confident now.

“Oh, right. And?” she asked still foggy and sheepish.

“Well, why do you think I packed all those guns?” he tested her.

“Its... I dunno.” she shyly admitted.

“All those guns, most of them back in Pegas too, I sell them. I have no need for that many weapons, there are ponies all over Equestria who pay by the barrel for those things. And wartime is the happiest time on my calendar.” he smiled, coming across as a little vindictive.

“Well...Then how’d you get so many?” was the only question that sprang to her mind.

“Simples,” he began “I sell to the ponies I’m most likely to kill, all I do is recycle and take new stock from corpses. I get paid to sell the guns, I get paid to get them back. No matter what, I win.” he finished, his voice laced in suppressed pride.

Dawn kept her silence, unsure of what to say, when she remembered.

“And what about the drugs?” she timidly asked.

“Oh.” Trouble sounded out, caught off guard “Rico’s idea.” he said, sighing.

“I never liked Drug dealers, especially the ones who sell to anyone. I hate to see the stuff around kids, if we’re going ahead with that, the drugs are going to the right ponies. The Lord knows there are fuck all ‘right ponies’ in Equestria.” Trouble said a little angry.

“Like Jet or something?” she asked through the haze, the first thing springing to mind.

Trouble gave her a concerned look “Yeah, yeah that’s right.” he answered, unsure of his own words.

“Trouble,” she began “what exactly are we going in to do?”

“Easy, we go to the Bridge, link up with some of Marizona’s finest, make a push, try to slip in and blow the arm’s dump a mile high. And afterwards, get that pegasus. The bridge, I ain’t going to lie. Its going to be some of the most fucked up action you’ll ever see. That's why at all times, Worthy is never more than fifty metres from you.”

Dawn was thrown into a world of confusion and doubt, not being helped by her hazy mind. She struggled to formulate a sentence “Before, huh? Wait,” she stammered, Trouble waiting patiently while she reasoned out the best question to ask first “why Worthy?” she finally reasoned.

“Well,” he started rolling his head shoulder to shoulder “He’s fitter than me, younger, healthier, better on overwatch and a medic.”

“Huh, I see.” Dawn meekly accepted, still unnerved.

“You good with it?” Trouble asked, noticing her attitude.

“Uh, yeah, yeah.” she nodded, not believing herself.

Trouble cleared his throat, exposing the small cassette tape player Worthy played the log back to her on “Worthy wanted you to hear the next one.” he said stiffly, forcing a smile as he fitted the old rickety headphones on her.

It began. The same harsh, funny sounding stallion opening it.

“What is fear? You keep going on about it.”

“Fear? There is no such thing. It's an illusion conjured up by ponies like me to make something fierce from something weak. I’ve been called fear, I strive to become your personal monster. Haunting you, plaguing you. Eating at your very fucking soul!” He roared, anger welling up.

Panting heavily he continued. “But no, I’m no monster, as much as they’d like to call me one. As much as I’d like to be one. I’m not. I’m flesh and blood like all you other pathetic excuses for life. I always seen through the mist of morality, another illusion. Morality is the chains that we bind ourselves, self restrictions, why? It's absurd, it's redundant. You’re redundant. This prison, these inmates, these guards. All mockeries of our very existence. Fear is the bloody horror of murder, my bravado, a display. An act, it never existed, it never will. Fear is fabricated in our own minds, we can choose to ignore it. But we don’t, but I do.” He stopped for thought.

“You only fear what you do not understand, you don’t understand the darkness. You don’t understand pain. You don’t understand me. How can you possibly hope to understand me, when you can’t understand yourself?”

The tape clicked to a halt, Dawn slowly removed the headphones from her head, looking up at Trouble with unnerved eyes her pupils trembling. Worthy. He really was not a very nice pony.

Trouble looked back and sighed, breaking eye contact “Worthy was always a good kid.” he remarked, staring out at the long flat straight road ahead of them. “Jus... Dealt a bad hoof.”

He slowly turned his head to look her in her wide timid eyes, he chuckled his face lighting up.

“A lot like you.”

_____________________________________________________________________

Worthy had a small fire going, or, Night Light did. She returned with bundles of  brush and twigs and even got the fire going, all Worthy did was drop some slabs of red meat in a pot, Night Light was levitating over the fire.

They all sat around the fire, basking in the warmth as the sun fell behind the horizon, Worthy was eager to return to the business matters.

“There is as it stands five of us. This gig would be a whole lot smoother if we worked in teams on jobs and have others working business back in Pegas.” Worthy said, doing his best to persuade the group.

“Gun running is dirty business, drug dealing is a dirtier business.” Night Light threw in.

Worthy groaned “It’s a dirty world, only the fool would try and stay ‘clean’.”

“Best leap head first into the shit.” Rico added, grinning.

“We should hand the guns over to Phoenix to help the war, and give the drugs to a hospital.” Night Light asserted.

Dawn just sat docile listening to the proceedings. She had nothing to add, she didn’t quite understand Night Light’s objections. She has no problem with guns or drugs, they both saved her on a number of occasions, giving them away though, it seemed fair. Ponies need it, but money and what not. She was new to the concept of ‘business’ but she was trying to learn.

Worthy and Rico looked at Night Light like she just let one rip, “What?” they asked in unison.

Worthy chuckled “Eh, Ranger, what do you think this is?”

“What?” she asked confused.

“What do you think this is?” he repeated, serious now.

“I dunno, a paramilitary gig.” she bluntly put it.

“No, its a family, and we’re conducting family business. Not charity work.” Worthy corrected.

“Its sickening, extorting ponies for drugs, fueling the fires of a war.” she objected, her anger building.

Worthy and Rico exchanged glances, Trouble was sitting away from them all, busy scribbling something down in his old book with a cracked and rusted fountain pen. Dawn tried not to gawk at the book, every time she saw it she yearned to gleam over it, scrape some secrets from it. He was in a weird trance like state, in a different world as he wrote, all this was going right over his head.

“Ranger, we’re not the good guys, we’re not the saviours of Equestria, we’re not moral, we’re not righteous, we’re not even fucking grateful. We’re angry greedy ponies, who kill for caps and firmly believe in the tenets of family and respect. It’s us, holding each other above the sharks, one pony’s business is our business, we all benefit from each individual member. There is no low we won’t sink to...For family.” Worthy finished in a somber tone, every one of his words sinking into the group. Dawn had to say, Worthy if anything, was a fine speaker. He uplifted her, his words were. Staunch and empowering.

“...You’re an awful prick sometimes Worthy.” Rico commented.

“And you were always too easy going.” Worthy countered.

“As long as we kill every Germane motherfucker we cross, I’m willing.” Night Light said darkly.

“Thats the spirit, and as for Dawn. Well, this is practically work experience, ain’t that right Dawn?” Rico jutted in.

“Uhhh.” She droned out, defeated by his question.

Worthy rolled his one remaining eye, “Dawn, I got something else to show you.” he said, getting up. Dawn cringed at his words but got up all the same, trying to hide the worry on her face. She had enough of his grim dark self already.

Worthy wandered around to the rear of the Rap Mobile, the sun barely lighting it as it fell behind them into the west, the orange orb still giving her sufficient vision. Worthy yanked down the back panel and dunked one of the familiar strange blue orbs on it. The strange perpetually flowing mist inside, swirling about.

Dawn approached, she remembered an orb identical to this one in Trouble’s strange room.

“Tap it with your horn.” Worthy ordered.

Dawn silently complied, she drew near.

The orb’s mist began to pour out from it, the pale blue fog suspended in mid air, the tendrils swirled and began to tether to Dawn’s horn, her shuddering at the touch.

Worthy recoiled in bewilderment, on looking the proceedings with growing alarm and interest. A jolt raced down Dawn as more of the tendrils latched on to her, and more and more appeared, her horn inching towards it.

The orbs fluorescent light intensified as all the burning orange sun rays faded from her vision, the orb becoming the only shining light left in her existence, her horn jabbed the orb and she was propelled into the darkness from this world.

***

Dawn was drowning in a sea of colours blurs and pulps. The world morphing before her as she remained in a state of suspension, as the world fabricated around her.

Strange shapes conjured around her, unfocused alien surroundings. The world finally fell into place. Dawn was coherent again, confused though. She was stuck, unable to move.

The world came into a sort of focus, a poor one but still.

She was in... Something like the Rap Mobile, except with a solid roof. She was looking out of a digital display, through a helmet visor, her breathing was steady and strong, the cold icy breath hung for a second in the air before vanishing.

The world was still coming into focus, she noticed her hooves, a long thick purple coat with padded sleeves outstretched leading to two black leather gloves firmly gripping a steering wheel. These weren’t regular gloves, these had small extensions for digits to slot into, it took a moment to register but she definitely had claws.

She, or, her host was staring out the windscreen into a dark horizon, grey balls of snow falling from the invisible sky above, gently settling on the hood of the car, casting it in a snowy blanket. The gentle rumble of the engine, waiting tranquilly for its master’s prod.

A thin sheet of frost laced the glass pane her host stared through, contorting and changing their perception of the world into a glistening rippling landscape. She was seated comfortably in her seat, wearing warm padded bulky clothes. Sweaty and itchy inside, it was annoying her, but the host wasn’t bothered in the slightest as the world settled in.

The host let out a long relaxing breath, her head sagging. She was clad in all purple clothes for winter, with thick black boots, and a grey fur collar around her neck. Large, weird green bulbs with rods(?) At her side.

The host looked up again inhaling deeply, she glimpsed the mirror. The helmet she identified straight away, the blood red visor with the open maw painted across the filter of the mask. Trouble.

“Fifteen secs out Red Joker.” he mechanically chimed through the mask, his own voice echoing statically in his own ears.

He slowly twisted his head to the right, next to him was a pony identically dressed with a very similar helmet, only in a coat of bright red, on their shoulder was a large wood and metal tube, a funnel like opening hear the end, two iron cast triggers/ grips just ahead of the shoulder and a large army green bulb acting as a head. A small scope mounted on it.

“Fuckin’ hell. Do we ‘ave ta keep up tah fuckin military shite?” An annoyed mare’s voice shot back, heavily accented like Trouble, her voice crackling in his eardrums as it was electrically conveyed as well with slight lag. The pony made an over the top eye roll so he knew she was doing it behind the helmet.

“Yeah, we does. Callsigns, Red, fuck me.” Trouble shook his head.

“Let’s rock.” she confidently said, her voice excited and itching for action.

Trouble sighed, “Fire when ready.”

The mare chuckled, Trouble kept eyes on her. She pulled herself out of the window, perching her rump where the window pane should’ve been, aiming down the small scope on the long tube.

“Target spotted.” she declared coolly.

The tube was tilted at a long angle, wherever they were, it was high up.

“Ready when you are Red.” Trouble responded.

The mare identified as Red tracked something through the scope, both her gloves around the triggers. She tensed the triggers simultaneously, as her grip tightened around the triggers the bulb at the front of the rocket soared to life, screeching as it was launched, a jet of fire coming from its rear as it whistled through the air, a large smoke plume jettisoning from the rear of the tube. The mare leapt back into her seat

“Drive! Drive!” she barked, a moment later a thundering bellow could be heard along with the shrieks of torn metal below.

Trouble slammed the car into gear, the wheels spinning on the frozen ground struggling desperately for grip, the engine roaring in anger as they took off with a jump, Trouble swinging the wheel to the extreme left the car rocketing forward down a steep gradient catching several seconds of tense air, the wheels spinning frantically, gagging for some surface to scald with hot rubber.

They crashed down hard on the snowy ramp, Trouble’s vision sharpened, the car skidded down a steep slope, his mind racing, the car slipping and sliding, losing control, his entire body tensing as he flicked the wheel side to side constantly correcting the path.

Tall icey blue pillars of frozen over trees shot past as the powerful headlamps engaged, illuminating brightly everything before them. The car narrowly missed huge frozen boulders as it slipped and slid down the slope, a blur Trouble managed to see clearly through.

The car crashed onto the flat surface of the snow with a hard smash, their bodies propelled forward as the car walloped the frozen ground, stalling the engine.

“Not good enough Black!” The mare snapped, almost slamming her head on the dash.

Trouble glanced up, ahead on a dark frozen over cracked asphalt road was a convoy of three open top jeeps moving along the road, a hard top in their midst a jagged pale white cliff face to their left and a dark impermeable maze of frosty blue pillars to their right.Trouble’s eyes automatically locked on the hardtop, the convoy was in an odd shape and it didn’t take a genius to figure out why.

Trouble quickly turned the keys in the ignition, the engine coughing into life, hacking meekly before giving out.

“COME THE FUCK ON BLACK!” The Mare roared, Trouble quickly glimpsed the rear view mirror, behind them was the fiery wreck of a blown up car, a smoke column rising from its smouldering corpse.

Trouble tried the ignition again, punching the steering wheel the engine came triumphantly back to life, growling in enthusiasm.

“Floor it!” The mare ordered. Trouble complied, forcing the car in gear and his hoof down on the throttle launching the car forward onto the slippery road. Coming strongly up the rear of the convoy, their head lights lighting up the convoy clear as day.

“Nade’ me!” she ordered, extending an open gloved hoof, Trouble dropped his left shoulder tossing one of the green bulbs over to the mare, she caught it and forced it into the tube twisting it into a locked position. She pulled herself back out of the car onto her perch.

“Hold her steady!” she demanded, the electric voice stinging Dawn’s ears.

Trouble kept the vehicle arrow straight on the road, the glistening blue coat on the road melting as the vehicles tracked through them.

Another bulb was launched down range, shooting far ahead of the vehicle at a remarkable speed, the bright flame lighting up the frozen dark landscape as it whistled past. The head exploded against the rear of one of the open tops, the vehicle went up in flames, incinerating all the passengers as it somersaulted through the air, crashing on its roof as it skidded down the road upon landing, the metal screeching against the jagged asphalt.

The two remaining open top jeeps occupants jumped up from the rear, several ponies in each with automatic weapons, the finer details of their faces visible from the powerful headlights.

Trouble clutched the mare by the midsection and yanked her in, bullets whizzing past and crashing harmlessly against the windshield, the small crushed metal balls staying lodged in the thick glass pane.

The mare let out a nervous breath “Thanks.”

Trouble didn’t take his eyes off the road, offering her another one of the large explosive bulbs. She accepted it, loading it into the tube, her jacket soaking. One thing Dawn found amazing was Trouble’s calmness, his cool had been maintained without break. Thats just the way he was she guessed.

A bullet broke a tiny hole through the windscreen, tumbling past Trouble’s ear in a high whistle, his heart skipping a beat.

“Imma have ta get evasive Red!” he grunted angrily, gritting his teeth he began to swing the car from side to side, the bullet intake of the vehicle drastically reducing as the two passengers swayed from side to side.

The low frustrated growl of the mare could barely be heard through the radio in Trouble’s helmet.

She perched herself up on the window once more, the occasional stray shot drawing close to her, she didn’t seem to mind, keeping her focus entirely down the scope.

Another bulb was launched by her, the car she aimed for swivelled out of the way, taking a dangerously outside line on the road. The explosive bulb bounced off the asphalt and continued another dozen feet before exploding. The concussive blast was enough to capsize the car, barreling it on it side, the occupants tumbling out with high screams, their weapons firing as they locked up, the car lopsided onto its roof, crushing the gunners as it ground to a halt, the wheels still spinning.

Only one open top remained. The barrage had strangely stopped, the mare took her seat once more sighing, Trouble passing her another bulb.

“The fuck are these eejits at?” she asked disinterested in the proceedings as she locked it in place.

The gears in Trouble’s head were turning, it seemed as if.

“Pull yer socks up!” He roared sinking low in his chair, making sure his head was below the door, just as he sank the open top car stamped on its brakes, the cars lining up side by side, the three gunners reappearing at their flank. The mare threw herself down across Trouble in the nick of time as a volley shattered the glass, sailing right through the passenger’s open window. Her head uncomfortably close to his groin.

The open top crashed hard into their side, the jolt knocking the wind out of Trouble and causing the mare to yelp. Trouble leaned away from the window, he rose a bulky black pistol identical to the one the show ponies used and rested it on a broken glass fragment. A M1911 it was called, he tapped the trigger wildly, the slide blowing back and forth eight times before locking in place, trying desperately to cling to the road.

“Red Do Sumfin!” Trouble cried out, pulling the empty pistol back as he ejected the magazine.

The mare leapt up and fired the bulb, the jet of fire leaving soot on Trouble’s helmet, the explosion knocked their car back to the edge of the road, the open top a fiery bundle as it impacted into the cliff face with the force, the blast leaving Trouble dazed, a high whine in his ears as his vision became unfocused and blurry.

Trouble righted himself back in his originally seating position, his head sagging as drowsiness overcame him. The mare punched Trouble’s shoulder. He snapped out of it, quickly snapping his head over to her.

“Gun it Black!” she ordered.

Trouble came back to his sharp senses, stomping on the throttle, getting them on a steady path on the road once more, only the hard top remained.

They quickly made up the ground, keeping a safe distance behind. This car was more armoured than the open topped ones.

“‘Nudder’ RPG or wah?” he asked nonchalant, Dawn found it incredible, he was totally casual about all of this, his heart beat steady and slow. His mind thinking simple processes through in a calm manner.

“Yeah, Imma capsize the fucker.” she answered nearly disinterested.

Trouble tossed another ‘RPG’ into her outstretched gloved grasp. She loaded it in one final time, breathing loudly and slowly. She slowly pulled herself back onto her perch, taking careful aim.

Trouble subconsciously reloaded his pistol, keeping his eyes on the rear of the hard top jeep. The mare launched another whistling bulb down the road, gliding low onto the ground, the RPG skimming along the road before exploding inches from the rear of the car, launching the weighty jeep onto its roof in a fiery wave, the engine cutting out instantly.

“Righ, lets verify and bag the bastard.” The mare groaned climbing back in, tossing the tube in the rear of their car.

Trouble gently braked on approach to the capsized car, the paint scorched or scratched from the body, exposing pale chrome wounds on the car’s body. He came to a halt feet from the car, the mare dismounted revealing a small silenced submachine gun with a retractable stock, like a downsized rifle.

Trouble dismounted from his side, the cold wind howling around them, the gently falling snow melting on touch with their warm clothes.

The gentle rumble of the car as it continued to cast the jeep in a blinding light. The mare crouched down, opening the passenger side door of the upturned car on her haunches. She jammed the submachine gun in and sprayed, blood splashing onto the driver’s side window Trouble was rounding, blocking out the view in a sanguine tint as the thick fluid trickled down the glass.

Trouble got on his haunches opening the driver’s side rear door, his pistol aimed towards the inside as he yanked the door opened. Inside was a limp blue stallion with a tidy black mane in a blood stained, torn and messed business suit. Trouble took his gun off him, grabbing him by the shoulder he threw him out onto the cold road. The stallion’s pudgy face was swollen and bloody, most of the blood was the driver and passengers, he got away with a few scratches.

The mare rounded over to Trouble and the stallion, both of them on their hindhooves towering over the unconscious stallion, he writhed in pain as he gritted his teeth, his eyes tightly shut as he sucked in air with a hiss.

“This him ah?” Trouble asked, studying the stallion. His identically dressed companion answered “Aye, tis.” enthusiastically, a small photo in her grip.

The stallion roused, lifting off the ground on his shoulder blades, jutting out his chest. Coming to a meagre form of consciousness as he hacked up blood.

Trouble didn’t care, he swung the pistol at him and squeezed the trigger effortlessly. The loud bang echoed throughout the frozen landscape. A smoking burnt hole in the stallion’s brow as he stopped fidgeting, lying limply on the ground. Hot blackish red fluids leaked from the wound, travelling in thick waves.

The night was so clear Trouble could even make out the sound of the spent case of the pistol ding off the hard asphalt beneath.

“Another job well done.” Trouble chirped smiling up at his companion. The mare stepped over the stallion in large strides, wrapping her free forehoof around Trouble’s shoulder as she ushered them  back towards their vehicle.

“Little too easy for the Jokers don’t ya reckon?” she asked, her voice happy but serious.

“Amount of fuckin plannin for it, nah.” he answered confidently.

“Jus sayin’ I was expecting a fuckin’ shite storm.”

“There will be if we don’t fuck off in a hurry.” Trouble pointed out.

“Noted. I know we jus made Joker buh I thought it would be a lot more fuckin’ hardcore.”

“Hard-fucking-core?” Trouble exclaimed “Who do ya think you are? Pony Montana?”

The mare slapped the back of Trouble’s helmet, taking her hoof off from around his shoulders “Shaddup before I knock your teeth out ya big lumbering cunt.” she responded casually. Which Dawn found rather bemusing.

“Fuck off, the cheek of ya.” Trouble moaned, shaking his head.

The mare chuckled “I’m glad it was you who was the next Black Joker, fuck knows I woulda went mental if I was stuck with some other cunt.”

“Cunt none the less.” she added.

The world began to lose its focus as the two paced casually back to the car, a flood of thoughts and questions flooding to the front of Dawn’s mind. This mare, Red Joker. He was Black Joker, she was an earth pony clearly from the helmet. And the helmet was just a red version of his. She liked her, Trouble was still a big son of a bitch and she had no reserves on him. She openly called him a cunt.

More than anything though Dawn had no clue where they were, snow never fell this deep, never. Everything was coated in a shimmering blue layer of thick frost, iced over centuries ago. And they were in a car, obliterating other ponies in cars.

She had some questions.

And she knew who had answers.

***

Dawn was back, little to no time seemingly passing. They weren’t even eating yet by the fire, and Worthy was still looming over her, unwavering. His dreadful aura seeping into Dawn’s bloodstream, evaporating her strong curiosity with whispers of doubt.

Worthy kept his silence.

Dawn kept hers.

“Uhhh,” she droned out, the words abandoning her.

“Questions?” Worthy offered.

Dawn bit her bottom lip, her face giving away her nervousness. She couldn’t speak, her throat was plugged by fear.

Worthy briefly stared at the ground before sighing. Sweet fucking Celestia, even his sighs were cold.

“That was one of the first jobs Trouble got as Black Joker. It was a very important position in our family, and his partner was a sister of ours. Real psycho she was. The Red Joker and The Black Joker, they were a team tasked with the longest and most volatile jobs, and I promise you Dawn you will be seeing a lot more of them.” he leaned in close to her face “The only way you’ll ever understand him, is to understand what made him how he is, he was not a lot older than you by that stage.” Worthy turned away from her, twisting his vision over to his brother who was furiously scribbling away in a trance like state.

Worthy turned back to her “That's all for one night, tomorrow, I’ll show you how to really use that rifle of yours.”

_____________________________________________________________________

The Figure cleared his throat, uneased from the information “That was very ‘sensitive’ stuff you were shown miss Dawn.”

Great, now he’s back to calling her miss.

“Sensitive?” she asked furrowing her brow.

“Yes, and I feel it should go without asking you relay all of these ‘Joker’ accounts back to me in minute detail.”

Dawn yawned “Yeah, fine.” she uttered wearily, rubbing her face in her hooves.

“Need some rest?” The Figure asked. Isn’t that sweet of him?

“One more thing.” she said raising a hoof.

“What?”

“Worthy, his time in prison.”

_____________________________________________________________________

They all sat in a crude circle around the fire, Dawn sitting back, she hardly ate a bite. Her stomach stabbing out at her for every morsel that fell into its pits. She never really like meat anyway.

Worthy had his mask off, stroking it in his lap as he sat hunched over in an odd posture, his hind legs in an almost pretzel shape. Night Light was intently listening to him, Rico was half paying attention, whispering something to a distant Trouble from time to time.

Dawn’s gaze was on her so called mentor, she felt too insecure around him like this. Knowing she was staring right into his secretive and obscure past, often prying into his mind, which she was beginning to find more and more addicting.

“Next thing I know, I’m awake in the bowels of a fake hell, a copy, an imposter. It made me feel sick, that pissy emulation.” Worthy venomously spat out.

“What the fuck was down there?” Night Light asked perturbed.

“Darkness, miles and miles of dark walls, dark figures, consuming darkness. Soon that darkness just ‘leaks’ into you.” Worthy shuddered. The bright orange rays of the fire lighting every detail and contour in his disgusted face.

“But WHAT was down there?” Night Light pressed again, more seriously this time.

“Down there, along with the inmates. Are these ‘things’ we called them Pulps, the guards called them Changelings. They were... Cruel.” Worthy sullenly spoke, his one amber eye staring aimlessly at the desert floor as the crackling fire was the only other sound for miles in the dark desolate desert night.

“Strange, twisted things. You could always hear their shrieks, echoing the winding walls and paths, you could always hear the soft scratching of claw on stone as the scurried about, causing your teeth to itch.” Worthy growled out, his tone grim and chilling. Night Light engrossed in it.

“They found you, they always did. Warped and contorted, using a sickly magic they change themselves into.” he cut himself off, reliving it inside his head, the hot anger inside him mixing with deep hatred and toxicity.

“Into what?” Night Light slowly asked.

“The ponies you care about, always the same. It's never them though, they’re always busted up, bleeding, that fucking stare... Drives nails into your head, killing over and over. They keep the form they die in, only way you can break it is put them to sleep. Everyday, killing family... There was no way to know what was real anymore.” his voice gradually became lower and lower, until it was nothing more than a hoarse whisper.

 “One thing kept my sanity, one thing I knew.” he said speaking up confidently, raising his hoof.

“What was it?”

 Worthy chuckled darkly to himself.

“They taste nothing like us.”

_____________________________________________________________________

Dawn’s head sagged, her body becoming limp as all the sounds around her ceased. Her cheek falling onto the cold metal table as her world slipped away from her.

The Figure silently rose from his chair, speaking to his invisible audience before vanishing into the darkness “We keep this one alive... She knows too much to live not enough to die."