The four friends stood side by side, examining their attackers. They were outnumbered, at least four to one. Each of their attackers was armed and ready for blood.

“Think we should give them a hooficap?” Flash muttered.

Phillip cracked his neck. “Nah.” With a flick of his wrist, he tossed his boomerang out; the weapon struck the meaty pegasus in the forehead, ricocheted off to disarm a unicorn with a knife, and flew back to Phillip’s hoof as he struck down a burly blue earth pony. The other Snakes charged forward, but were sent flying back by a wave of purple magic that knocked them all to the ground. Twilight followed up with several spells and hexes that stunned or immobilized anypony they hit.

Flash whirled into combat, his limbs becoming blades that struck down anypony that dared come close. Two pegasi Snakes closed in, both of them swinging a bat at his head. Ducking to the side, he trapped the foreleg of the attacker on his left, elbowed him in the face, and yanked the bat from his grip. His partner swung at him again. Flash parried the attack with his newly acquired weapon and struck him across the jaw, knocking him down.

The first pony that he’d disarmed kicked him in the side, causing him to stumble. Flash blocked the next attack, used his bat to shove the attacker back, and knocked him down with a strike to the knee before finishing him with a roundhouse kick to the jaw.

“Get the Princess!” a Snake spat right before Flash kicked him in the teeth. One of the unicorns turned to Twilight, who was firing stunning spells at every thug she could reach. Charging up his horn with an aura of bright blue magic, he grinned as he prepared to hurl a deadly hex at Twilight.

But Spike, who was still astride Twilight’s shoulders, spotted the incoming danger. Reacting instantly, he took a deep breath and exhaled powerfully, sending a jet of emerald flame at the unicorn. The would-be attacker yelped in fright and ducked to avoid the flames. Phillip kicked him in the jaw to knock him out.

“Thanks, Spike,” Twilight nodded, immobilizing another pony who was trying to close in on her. Spike grinned proudly.

Phillip ducked beneath a knife slash at his head and countered with a headbutt to his assaulter’s chest, simultaneously kicking the thug who had just punched him from behind in the ribs. Finishing the knife wielder with a pair of baton strikes, he turned to face another attacker when he heard a distinctive click behind him. He ducked just in time: a bullet streaked past inches over his head. Whirling around as he dived into a tuck and roll, he spotted a black unicorn with a revolver, taking aim at his back.

A moment later, a purple field of magic surrounded the weapon and yanked it from the goon’s grip. At the same time, Flash flew in and punched the gunpony across the jaw, knocking him down.

Immediately, the gunpony charged forward and tackled Flash to the ground. Growling animalistically, the unicorn bit Flash on the cheek, drawing blood and causing Flash to cry out in pain.

In a blur of movement, Phillip rushed forward and slammed into the thug, knocking him down. Drawing his baton back, he repeatedly brought his weapon down onto the pony’s face, smashing past his attempts at defense and sending dark blood flying with every sweep.

“You! Don’t! Touch! Them!” Phillip snarled in a voice like thunder, emphasizing every word with a blow.

“Enough!” Twilight shouted, grabbing his arm with her magic and stopping his blows. Phillip glared up at her, panting heavily; she glared back at him, maintaining her grip on his arm. Slowly, he relaxed and got up off the unicorn, who lay on the asphalt, groaning feebly as blood trickled from the wound in his head.

All of the Snakes had been defeated; the ones that were still conscious and able to move were retreating as quickly as they could with their tails in between their legs.

“Yeah! Take that you, you...curs!” Spike taunted, the bravado in his voice shielding the fact that he was trembling as he clung to Twilight’s back.

“Run back to your bosses! Tell them to send something bigger next time!” Flash shouted fiercely after them as blood ran down his cheek.

“Let me take a look at that,” Twilight said tenderly. She and Spike were unhurt, as none of the Snakes had managed to get anywhere near them, but Phillip and Flash both had received a few minor bruises and cuts in the fight. Twilight set to work cleaning and dressing her friends injuries with her magic as she cast immobilization spells over the Snakes.

“The City Guard will be on their way soon,” Flash stated, panting and wiping sweat from his brow. “C’mon, we’re wasting time.”

Leaving the immobilized and wounded thugs behind, the group continued down the street to the post office. As Phillip followed behind his friends, he pulled his baton out and examined it. The dark red blood clung to the weapon, slick beneath his touch. The rage he felt earlier had slowly curdled into an unpleasant bitterness in the pit of his stomach.

“Sorry,” he said, wiping the blood off on his vest.

“What?” Flash asked, turning around.

“I’m sorry,” Phillip repeated. “I…” He couldn’t bring the words out, couldn’t try to excuse his anger.

“I understand,” Flash stated seriously. “But that’s not how we do things.”

“I know,” Phillip grunted. “It’s just...it’s difficult to change.”

“I get that,” Twilight stated gently. “But, Phillip, you should tone it down a bit. There’s no need to beat ponies like that.”

“You’re right,” Phillip nodded. “I...I want to protect you, and…”

“You can,” Flash said, gripping Phil’s shoulder. “But you can do that without brutalizing ponies. You’ve got to do better than that now. Okay?”

Phillip hesitated, then slowly nodded. “Good,” Flash said. “Now, come on. We’re almost there.”

They finally reached the post office, a single-story brick building with the Equestrian flag hanging over it. Entering the lobby, the group made their way over to one of the many desks lining the walls. Leaping off of Twilight’s shoulders, Spike climbed onto the desk and grabbed the large phone and address book and began rifling through it quickly.

“P...P...Point…” he muttered, running a claw down the yellow pages. “Aha!” he declared, his claw resting on a line. “‘Anchor Point, 223 Wingsong Way!”

“Wind's died down enough for us to fly,” Flash observed. “I know the way, it’s not far.”

They exited quickly. Twilight lifted Spike back up onto her back and Flash grabbed Phillip underneath his shoulders, lifting up into the smoggy city sky. They flew eastwards, dusty streets and brick houses moving beneath them. Before long, they were passing over parks and forests, following a well-paved road.

“Down there,” Flash nodded towards a driveway beneath them. He and Twilight swooped down to land in front of the driveway.

“I wonder if he’ll be willing to talk to us,” Twilight pondered as they started to walk down the pathway.

“He’ll have to if he—” Flash’s thoughts were interrupted by the sight of a motorized carriage with spinning red and blue lights parked in front of the quaint brown one-story cottage that sat at the end of the driveway. “Oh, no.”

Two City Guards exited through the door, muttering to one another. One of them looked up and lifted his visor, revealing Snake Eyes’ bewildered face. “How did you guys get here so fast?”

“What’re you talking about?” Flash asked.

“What happened to you guys?” Snake asked, examining their bandaged wounds.

“The Snakes,” Phillip replied. “What happened here?”

“Anchor Point is dead,” stated the other Guard, a pale blue pegasus corporal. “He was murdered.”

“No!” Twilight cried out in disbelief. “What happened?”

“We were sent down here to check on the occupant, because nopony had seen him for several days,” the corporal stated. “My partner and I were dispatched to respond, but when we arrived, we found Anchor Point dead in his office. There was no sign of any intruders in the building. We were just about to radio this in and wait for other responders.”

The four friends looked at one another. “What do we do now?” Spike whispered urgently.

“There’s still a chance he left behind something we can use,” Phillip said. “Damn...if we'd just figured it out sooner."

“Nothing we can do about that now,” Flash sighed. “We may as well take a look.” He turned to Snake Eyes. “Is it all right if we take a look around?”

“Hold on a second,” the corporal stated. “You can’t just—”

“It’s all right, Blue Jay,” Snake Eyes reassured him. “They’re with me.” He gestured them inside. “You can look around, but try not to touch anything. The CSI team should be here soon.”

“Okay,” Flash nodded, entering the cottage. Phillip, Twilight, Spike and Snake Eyes followed; Corporal Blue Jay remained outside.

They passed through a short hallway with a coat and hat rack leaning against the white walls and a shaggy carpeting on the floor, and entered a living room. A pair of green sofas sat facing each other, a low coffee table sitting in between them. Paintings of landscapes and flowers hung on the walls, designed to soothe but not to be contemplated. A coffee machine and a small refrigerator sat humming on a table on the other end of the room, next to a water dispenser.

“The office is over here,” Snake Eyes said, pointing down another hallway. They trotted down until they reached a room on their left, the broken door hanging open. Inside was a large office. Two velvet chairs sat in front of an oak desk and a larger velvet chair, which was covered in stacks of paper, envelopes, pencils and two telephones. Three filing cabinets were stacked against one wall; opposite was a long window that opened into the well-trimmed lawn and bushes out back.

However, the picturesque scene was ruined by the red and pink goop spread across the desk and back wall, spread out in a conical stain from the center of the room and out over the wall. At the sight of the blood and brain matter painted across the room, Spike gulped loudly, clapping a claw over his mouth as his face turned green. “Twilight, maybe you and Spike should wait outside,” Flash said quietly. Twilight nodded, her face pale, and made a quick exit with Spike.

“Point of entry and the body are out back,” Snake Eyes stated. He led Flash and Phillip down the hallway to the door in the back of the house, following a red drag trail of blood. The oaken door had been repeatedly battered and hung open, the lock smashed to splinters.

Out in the backyard, laying in the midst of the trimmed grass, was a corpse, the skin burnt to a black crisp. The body’s head from above the neck was missing—having been spread across the office wall—and no hair remained to help identify the victim. An empty bottle of cider, a burnt match, and a small, discarded fire extinguisher lay around the body.

“Are we sure that this is Anchor Point?” Phillip asked, bending over the burnt husk.

“Well, that’s the rub, isn’t it?” Snake Eyes sighed. “Identification is going to be tricky without his head or his cutie marks. Look,” he pointed at the victim’s flank. Even beneath the blackened charring, the observers noted that the cutie mark had been mutilated, reduced to a mass of red scratch marks.

“We should at least try to find a picture of Anchor Point for comparison,” Flash said.

“Let’s take a look,” Snake Eyes agreed. He and Flash went back inside, leaving Phillip to examine the corpse for clues.

“So what’s so special about this guy?” Snake asked as they began to search for the cottage’s bedroom.

“I was about to ask you that,” Flash stated.

Snake shrugged. “He’s a small-time broker. Kind of a recluse; not many ponies even know what he looks like. Lived alone up here, had all his groceries delivered, worked through the phone or mail. Now why are you so interested in him?”

Flash started to answer, but his voice got stuck in his throat. “He’s a suspect in mom’s murder,” he stated.

Snake Eyes turned to him, his eyes narrowing in suspicion. “You know, we haven’t seen each other in a long time, but I can still tell when you’re lying to me,” he said.

Flash looked at his friend, examining his accusing face. Snake Eyes had been his constant companion throughout his foalhood, from kindergarten all the way up to graduation. They’d played together, laughed together, cried together, dreamed together. They had trusted each other completely.

And now, because of the armor that hid his body, because of his position in the Guard of the city that they had both grown up in, Flash had a reason to doubt his best friend’s honesty.

“That’s the least you need to know, Snake,” Flash said softly, meeting his friend’s gaze steadily.

“It’s because I’m a City Guard, isn’t it?” Snake Eyes snapped.

“No, Snake…” Flash started to say.

“Flash, we’ve known each other since we could barely walk!” Snake shouted, hurt and anger tumbling together in his eyes. “Didn’t we promise we could always count on each other, no matter what? But now, just because I’m wearing this armor, because I thought I could make a difference in this city, you can’t trust me?”

“I do, I do trust you, Snake,” Flash sighed, raising a hoof. He glanced up at the hallway, then leaned in close. “This guy worked with my mom. He may have had information about the connection between the gangs and the City Guard.”

Snake’s eyes widened. “Damn, really? That must be why they killed him and your mom!”

“Probably,” Flash nodded.

Snake exhaled. “We’d better find the guys who killed him, and fast.”

“Right.” Flash continued down the hallway until they reached a bedroom. A king-size bed sat in the center of the carpeted floor, the pale blue sheets rumpled and tossed to one side. An oak dresser sat to one side of the bed. A framed picture of two ponies sat on top of the dresser, along with a scattering of ties, notepads and pencils, and several pill bottles.

Flash examined the bottles labels. “Fluoxetine, venlafaxine, phenelzine...antidepressants.” He looked at the scattering of multicolored pills scattered like candies on the dresser. “Looks like he was taking them all in the same hoofful.”

Snake picked up the photograph. The image showed two ponies standing in front of the cottage that they currently stood in, smiling broadly at the camera. One was an earth pony with a trim blue coat, a silvery-blue mane and tail, and twinkling aqua blue eyes. His cutie mark was a pen tied to an anchor. The mare standing with her side pressed up against him was a pale pink unicorn with sunshine yellow hair and bright green eyes. Her cutie mark was a pie with a smiling face carved into the crust.

“This must be Anchor Point,” Snake commented, picking up the photograph. “The mare’s probably his wife.”

“Former wife,” Flash corrected, indicating the bed. “Only one side of the bed has been used.”

Snake nodded. “Probably explains the antidepressants.”

They took the photograph back outside to Phillip, who was bending over the burnt corpse, closely examining it with his loupe glasses. Flash showed the picture to him and Phil peered at it for several seconds of silence.

“You know what I think isn’t right here?” Phil said quietly.

“Everything,” Flash replied.

“What do you mean?” Snake asked.

“Think about it,” Flash said, nodding to the body. “Our killer comes in, kicks the office door open, and kills Anchor with a shotgun. He had to have known that the Guard would be on their way; but instead of leaving, he drags the body out here, mutilates the cutie marks, and sets it on fire. Why?”

“To send a message, maybe,” Snake suggested.

“And yet, with White Rose’s murder, it was quick,” Phillip pointed out. “No, this isn’t right.” Taking the photograph again, he bent back over the body, comparing the image to the reality. Unfortunately, it was evident just from looking that the body was burnt almost beyond recognition.

“Not looking good, chief,” Snake Eyes shook his head. “Maybe the coroner will be able to get something out of it.”

As if on cue, there was the sound of approaching sirens from the front of the cottage. Flash and Phillip rose and walked back into the cottage.

“You’ll let us know if you find anything?” Flash asked Snake.

“Of course I will,” Snake nodded, shaking Flash’s hoof. “Be careful out there.”

“We will,” Flash nodded, clapping his friend on the shoulder. He followed Phillip back down the hallway. As they passed the office, Flash paused and looked inside, examining their victim’s blood and brain matter spread across the walls and desk as if he could find a clue written in the red and pink.

Suddenly, he paused, his eyes focusing on the desk. “Phil,” he muttered, grabbing his mentor’s shoulder and pointing. Phil looked in the office, following Flash’s gaze. After a moment, he nodded. “I see it.”

“You thinking what I’m thinking?” Flash asked.

Phillip nodded again. “We need to do some research.”

“Well, we know just the pony,” Flash grinned as they exited. Twilight and Spike were waiting outside, sitting on the steps of the cottage; Spike was still looking miserable, staring down at his hands clasped around his knees as he pondered the cruelty of ponies. Blue Jay was briefing the newly-arrived City Guard Investigators and medical examiners.

“Guys, we’ve got work to do,” Flash quietly announced to them as they approached.

“What work?” Twilight asked, getting to her hooves. “Isn’t Anchor Point dead?”

“No, he’s not,” Phillip said, low enough so that the approaching Guards couldn’t hear him. “Which is why we’ve got to find him before anypony else does. We have some research to do.”

Quickly concealing her shock, Twilight lifted Spike up onto her back and took to the sky. Grabbing Phillip underneath his shoulders, Flash took off after them.

“I know just the place to start,” Twilight called as they flew back towards the city center. “Which way to the city library?”

Flash half smiled and rolled his eyes. “Of course.”

Author's Notes:

Because when in doubt—or when your only lead is dead and you're left with no clues—reorganizing, going to the library, and doing some research is the best solution.

But now the race is on! Where in the World is Anchor Point?