//------------------------------//
// Wheels and Bullets 
// Story: Tiger and Demon: A Manehatten Love Story 
// by Brony_Fife 
//------------------------------//

Breaking What's Fixed, Part I: Wheels and Bullets



Ooh, it’s a killing machine
It’s got everything
Like a driving power
Big fat tires and everything
~Deep Purple, “Highway Star"





Police sirens. Shrieking bullets. Squealing tires. Screaming engine. Wind whipping by us like we're shreddin' through somethin' meant to be solid. It's a few seconds before my heart starts pumping blood through me again. I look to the driver of this high-speed monster. The Commissioner's best friend, or so Coldsnap told me before we left the station.

Gorgeous. That's the first word to pop into my head. She's a gorgeous earth pony with a body built from years of physical labor and generous amounts of food. An orange coat covers a chiseled body whose movements are like a song sung by a choir of muscles. My eyes get lost in that long wave of gold that's crowned by a Stetson, and by the time I find my eyes again, they're being hoofed back to me by a pair of stern emeralds. They blink. 

"Wake up, sugarcube!" she yells as she puts the pedal to the metal. "We got su'm bigger goin' on here!"

A bullet shrieks as it breaks the windshield. The driver lets loose a long line of curse words. "Such barbaric language," chides Coldsnap. His voice is monotone, dead. Like a December breeze lamenting the loss of November. "Hardly befitting a proper lady, Miss Apple."

I look to Miss Apple, and see the anger in her eyes. That righteous Southern country gal indignation was about to come up. She was ready to blow. I look to her and I shake my head. Don't make him angry, I plead with those angry emeralds. Please. Don't. Make. Him. Angry.

Miss Apple's not one to take criticism sittin' down, but at least she's smart. Deep down, she knows she oughtta keep herself quiet when she's around a total batshit psycho like Coldsnap. But what she don't know is, he's made ice sculptures out of mares before for givin' him fashion advice. The only thing that would keep Coldsnap from haulin' off and freezin' Miss Apple is the presence of his brother Heat Freak, who conveniently isn't in this cab. 	

Another bullet whips by, shriekin' hello and goodbye at the same time. It takes the rearview mirror as a souvenir for its visit. I feel myself tense up. 

I know it sounds weird, but I've never been in a car chase before. Mostly because cars are new technology, and new technology means expensive. Only the MPD and the wealthy have 'em. I been in carriages, I pulled 'em, I've run for my life multiple times. But cars? Damn, they're a different story. Like lightnin' on wheels, charging bulls with oil for blood. When you sit in one, it's like bein' inside another living thing.

Coldsnap's in the backseat, calmly reading a book as if he's got nuthin' better to do. Several police cars are following us now, been following us for close to twenty minutes, Miss Apple doing her damnedest to shake 'em. She'd have better luck finding a grain of rice in the Frozen North during a snowstorm. Wearin' a plastic bubble while she's at it.

"Hey!" Miss Apple shouts as a police car draws close. "Coldsnap! 'Kin ya make with the winter voodoo an' shake these palookas?!" She fakes a swerve at the cops, and they buy it, hittin' the breaks and fallin' behind again.

Poor Apple. She doesn't know Coldsnap the way I know him. This guy is not just a hair-trigger temper without a shred'a moral decency. He's not just a walking winter. He's got this delusion of grandeur. He's ratchet. Always polite, even to ponies he's about to kill. Watches operas. Quotes literature. Uses big words, often improperly. His biggest problem is that he shuts you out if you don't address him as if he's the tragic hero in some fuckin' Shake Spear play.

I groan as he ignores her and flips a page of his no-doubt-a-coloring-book. "I declare, sagely Coldsnap!" I shout over the roar of guns and wheels. "It would be of great benefit to our immediate party's well-being should you decide to utilize your innate, Celestia-given ability to manipulate the hydrogen particles in our shared atmosphere, and prevent these bothersome pseudo-authority figures from pursuing us further!"

Coldsnap looks up from his book for the first time since he entered the car. "By Celestia's mane, Sir Sanders! Do you suggest that I take more lives than our employer has instructed me to?" A bullet rockets by his head. He doesn't flinch. 

I nod. "My insinuation, Sir Coldsnap, is that unless these lawmen are dealt with, they shan't cease their chase! Our attempted escape shall be for naught if you merely idle, dear sir! We humbly request for your aid!"

At this, Coldsnap finally agrees with me on something. "Only ask, and you shall receive."

He puts down his book and crawls up the sun roof, glaring at the fleet of squad cars. A cop, probably one of the Commissioner's disposable lieutenants, pulls out a bullhorn and demands we give ourselves up. For once, Coldsnap responds without the use of any words.

In a blur that's too fast for me to keep up with, several squad cars are frozen solid, along with the road. Many crash with random, deafening noise and shouts. The herds are thinned, but still persistent, and the remainder break out bigger guns.

Miss Apple tries to keep her eyes on the road, but she wears this look that's a mixture of frustration and bewilderment. The same look that's on everypony's face when they survive puttin' up with Coldsnap for the first time. "Hey, Tony?" she whispers.

"Yeah?"

"Kin ya use yer fancy language t'tell Snappy t'suck his own balls?"

I snicker. I like this chick. Hard to believe she's friends with the Commissioner. "I'd rather keep that to just between the two of us."

Suddenly, I hear gunshots, and Coldsnap grunts. I look up just as Coldsnap falls between Apple and me. She freaks for a second, swerves, correcting herself and taking a sharp turn down a street into Uptown. Pedestrians dive out of our way as fast as they can, and the sound of the car's engine screaming begins to ring in my ears. The road underneath us isn't built with automobiles in mind. I suddenly feel less like I'm in another living thing, and more like I've been put in a drink shaker.

I take a closer look at Coldsnap. He holds his shoulder as the snow-white bomber jacket around it becomes redder alarmingly fast. "Curses!" he spits. "A stray bullet! Lady Fortune finds favor in our foes, Sir Sanders!"

I feel like smackin' him good. Even when he's hurt, he's still acting like he's on a stage.

"Tony!" Apple cries as she spies a few leftover squad cars coming up behind us. "Check unner yer seat, sugarcube! Shit's about t'git intense!" 

So I do as I'm told. Under the seat's a beautiful sight. 

A gun. Ghost-white revolver. A barrel longer and harder'n I am in the morning. Six bullets. More'n enough to kill a pony. There's a signature on the barrel: EINE KUGEL, TODSICHER. I don't know what it means, but it sounds... tough. Harsh. Like a real warrior who knows what it's like to live in a hostile world.

I pick it up with my telekinesis. She's a heavy gun. I can taste the metal with my mind, and she's intoxicating. I feel like the slugs in this baby are enough to destroy absolutely anything. I'm in love with this beast the moment my telekinesis grips it. Now I know how the Commissioner felt when I was put in that jail cell. When I was just in her grasp.

With a vigor I didn't think I had, I look out my side window. The cops nearing us see my smile before they see my gun. The one cop in the passenger seat looks like he's about to piss himself as I aim for the tires. I fire, and there's a feelin' of fucking thunder. Not just a sound, but a feeling. There's thunder and fire, like a god's hammer coming down from the sky to strike the earth. The wheel blows and the squad car loses the momentum it had, its driver fighting to regain control as it careens about.

I've used guns before, but they're nothing like this. Just like this car, nothin' else compares. I took a piece of this beast, and I'm holding onto it like it's become a part'a me. 

I hear response fire and duck back down. Apple takes another turn, drives through a shopping arcade, honkin' the horn, makin' this beast roar and shout and shriek at anypony stupid enough to just stand there. The squad cars care about the pedestrians even less than we do. 

I take careful aim while the cops go crazy with their shots. Lousy marksponies. They don't take their time in aiming. They just fire like a bunch'a drunken hillbillies. I take my time. Line up a nice shot. One shot, and I get the driver. Her eyes cross as they're joined by a third, and it opens to greet the world with a blood-red view. The squad car swerves. Crashes.

I laugh. I laugh at killing another pony. I laugh as her car crushes some unsuspecting sap and crashes into somepony's market stand. I laugh at the madness and chaos I'm causing. It's not the gun. It's me. 

Shit. The Commissioner's right. I'm a killer. She picked the right monster for the job.

Suddenly, the car is swerving around like Apple's gone crazy at the wheel, throwing off my aim. I glare at her. "The Tartarus is up wi--?!"

But before I can finish my sentence, I see why Apple is fighting to maintain control of the car. Coldsnap tried to get back up at some point instead of just staying down like anypony else would. He's out the sun roof, quoting Shake Spear or some shit while lathering winter on the plaza around us, freezin' the cobblestone, causin' friction to become near-dreamlike. Idiot.

Apple finally loses her patience with him. I do too. Almost like we had the idea at the exact same time, we swat his stomach with both my gun and her hoof (And an earth pony hoof at that), knocking his ass into the backseat. I hear crashes. Shouts. Cursing. Looking behind me, it seems that in his lucid state, our boy pulled through after all. 

A few minutes of quiet. The chase is over. Apple just keeps driving along, trying to find someplace to lay low. Coldsnap is mumbling now. The ghost white revolver goes into my pocket. Apple sees it and smirks.

"Ah take it you an' Mr. Fix-It have taken a real shinin' to each other."

I respond with a smirk. 

"Where'd you learn t'shoot like that anyway?" Eyes to the road. Then back to me. "Ah din't hear no more'n two shots outta Fix-It, yet ya took down whole squad cars."

I smile and shake my head. "Pretty much where you're sittin'. When you start runnin' with the mob, you meet guys who are on their own level before too long. If you're lucky, they teach you what they know."

"Oneshot Trotsky?" she asks.

I smile. "Never met him before he got gunned down last year."

"Bullet Bill?"

"Never even looked at me."

"... Silvershot?"

I almost laugh. "He was cool, but he didn't like me very much. Thought I was makin' a move on his girl."

Her lips purse. Hers aren't angelic, like the Commissioner's. I take comfort from the feeling that at least her lips don't hide a demon underneath. They're warrior's lips. Weapons of destruction. She's a warrior, fighting a battle for her friend. Fighting a demon's battle. The same battle I've been pulled into. I'm glad we're on the same side. I'd hate to see those lips on an enemy.

"So what're ya sayin'?" she asks, after some thought. "Yer self-taught?"

Finally, I laugh. It isn't the rolling, distorted roar from the cells. It's short and piercing, like a gunshot. Like it was Mr. Fix-It laughin' instead'a me. "Miss Apple--"

"Call me AJ."

"AJ. Arright. AJ, when you run with the mob, you learn from observing them. The same way anypony learns most'a what they know. I observed guys like Bullet Bill and Silvershot. They didn't mentor me, or at least they never meant to. I just observed them, and other guys that tried to be like 'em. Saw what they did right and what they did wrong."

Some silence. A groan from the back seat. We're out of Uptown now. Into the business area. Plenty'a nice little alleys to hide in until further notice. We settle into one, and AJ's great at just steering this thing. I envy her all of a sudden. In that driver's seat, she's become one with this metal animal. She shares a mind with this beast. Shares its flesh. She flinched every time a bullet pierced its hull, not because it scared her. She flinched because it hurt the car. Hurt her.

She pulls the key out of the ignition. All at once, the beast falls silent. Asleep. It'll wake up again soon. And it'll roar. And it'll ride. And it'll rend. It's a kitten now, just like me. It's a kitten but it'll become a tiger again.

AJ pulls in a deep sigh. "Twi's goons are prolly gunna spread disinfermation. Try her damndest t'git this situation unner control." She rolls down the window next to her. 

She reaches over me to a compartment I didn't notice before. She opens it and inside's a first aid kit, a cell phone, and a pack of cigarettes. She reaches for the smokes. She offers me one and I take it. A second cig gets put in her mouth. She's reachin' for a matchbox in the compartment when I light her cig for her. Bein' a unicorn has its advantages.

She smiles. "Well, now, ain't you the little gentlecolt." Her warrior lips make allies with Joe Camel, beating the bullshit out of her alongside him, conquering all the madness that's happened in the past few hours. The smoke comes out her nose, dancing away, dragging her troubles out of her and beating them senseless for being inside her in the first place. The lady enjoys cigarettes almost as much as I do.

As the smoke from my cig joins hers, my eyes fall on the first aid kit again. Then to Coldsnap, still unconscious behind us. "Well..."

"Well, what?"

"... I don't suppose we're gonna patch him up or anything?"

AJ laughs a bit. Takes another draw from the cig. "Why should we? He's, this guy, he's..." Another draw. Another puff of smoke. "He's an ass, Tony. Real liability type. He nearly got us killed. Ah'm not gunna depend on 'em an' neither should you, sugarcube."

I think this over. Yeah. Coldsnap is delusional half the time, and totally dangerous the rest of the time. I wonder why the Commish doesn't have him with Heat Freak, instead teaming him up with an earth pony he'd likely have made into a popsicle at the slightest provocation. Is this the Commissioner's idea of a joke?

First, the cig in the jail. Then, making it look like Coldsnap and I had this breakout planned from the very start. All these setups. All this careful planning. No way the Commish would make such a blatant mistake of endangering her best friend by leavin' her alone with this psycho, with no younger brother around to keep him from killin' her...

...Unless.

Did AJ do something to piss off the Commissioner? If so, why would she endanger AJ? Most of this escape depended on her survival. It just don't make sense.

"What's the Commissioner's game, anyway?" I ask.

AJ finishes her cig and drops it out into the alley. She flips a lever at her side and it causes her seat to recline. She folds her forelegs before she answers. A puff of smoke travels out of her nostrils. "Ah'm sure she's already told you her story. Who we're after, what they did t'her." 

Her warrior's lips quiver. It's a discouraging sight to see, such ferocity suddenly burn away. "Twi's... She hasn't b'in th'same since then. Ah cain't figger her out no more. The games she plays, th' schemes an th' plans she makes... juss become more n' more dang'rous. Becomes less steady ev'ry year." She chuckles. "'Sbeen years, arready?" she asks to no one in particular.

I lose my appetite for the cig. I put it out and just chuck it out the window. I wonder how she'd react if I tell her her best friend just left her with a dangerous psychopath. I might'a killed other ponies, but I like to think that was when the situation called for it. Coldsnap tends to kill ponies because they offend him in ways nopony else but him understands. If she'd said the wrong thing at any time, she'd be dead by now. Why would the Commissioner leave her with somepony this unreliable?

Either way, the one rule about the Freezer Burn Brothers is that you can never have one without the other. They're both powerful half-dragon unicorns, masters of destructive temperatures. Should one die, there would be serious repercussions. 

Serious repercussions, man. The one time Coldsnap thought Heat Freak was dead, he went on a rampage and plunged everything into an unlivable ice age, nearly killin' himself in the process until Heat Freak snapped him out of it. But Heat Freak? Coldsnap's ratchet, and dangerous, but Heat Freak makes him look like a little lost puppy in comparison. I'm assuming he'd do worse.

I get out the first-aid kit. 	

"You serious, Tony?" she asks. "If'n Twi asks why Coldsnap's dead, we 'kin juss say it was an accident. Wouldn't be lyin'."

"Wouldn't be the whole truth, either," I say as I remove Coldsnap's bomber jacket. I misjudged where the bullet hit. It's in his chest, not his shoulder. Shit. The wound is getting worse. Blood everywhere. His pale blue coat is soaked with red. I clean him up as best I can. "We need a doctor. Now."

Her Stetson gets lowered over her eyes. "Too bad."

Should I tell her why? That his brother would destroy everything if he died? But then that would imply just how dangerous the brothers are to begin with. And that the Commissioner left her alone with one. How would she react?

"Listen, he's gonna bleed to death if we don't do somethin'! We can't just let him die!"

"Why not? Ah don't care."

I try to patch him up as best I can. So much blood. I get some of it on my shirt. Wonderful. My clumsy hooves and my telekinesis can't remove the bullet that's lodged in him. It's in pretty deep. He's starting to get feverish.

Finally, I'm frustrated with AJ. With Coldsnap. With this whole business. "Take us to a doctor! Take us, or..." I take out Mr. Fix-It. "Take us to a doctor or I swear I'll kill you!"

Her emerald eyes roll underneath her hat. They look at me, shadowed by the Stetson. They become less like emeralds and more like vipers hiding under a rock, just waitin' for some unsuspecting idiot to come along. Not an ounce of concern that a unicorn with prolific psychic abilities, who has killed many ponies before, is threatening her. 

She scowls. But from where I'm sitting, it looks like her warrior lips turn up. Those lips suddenly belong to an enemy. 

"You sayin' yer telekinesis is faster'n mah hooves, boy?" Her voice is low. Simmering. Waiting for any opportunity to blow, like she was before. 

This is stupid. It's pointless. She's the Commissioner's best friend. I kill her, I'll have a Tartarus of a time tryin'na explain myself. No way I'd be able to hide her body and figure out how to drive this mechanical animal and find a doctor, all in time to save the life of somepony I don't even like, all to prevent some Manehatten-ending apocalypse.

Mr. Fix-It goes back in my pocket. I close my eyes and breathe. "OK, look, AJ. I know you're friends with the Commish and all, but I think she's set you up. Coldsnap's too difficult to work with, and too dangerous all by himself, even for you. Gangs that hire him hafta hire his brother as well, because his brother's the only one capable of keepin' him in line. He could have frozen you to death in an instant if you so much as said the wrong thing at the wrong time on your way to the precinct." I throw my hooves out to the alley. "You saw what he's capable of! The Commissioner intentionally left you with him. She was willing to endanger your life to... to... I dunno! But whatever her reason is, AJ, the fact remains that if we don't save Coldsnap, NOW, his brother will unleash fire-and-brimstone Tartarus on our sorry asses. He'll hunt us both down, kill us all, and burn all of Manehatten while he's at it. Dead-ass. So please, for Celestia's sake, let's just take him to a fucking doctor!"

Seconds pass. A minute passes. Minutes pass. I try my best to keep Coldsnap in one piece. Finally, AJ puts her seat back up. The keys go back in the ignition. "Arright, sugarcube," she says. "Arright. Juss this once. But only 'cuz y'told me th'honest truth." She sounds like she's gonna cry.

And why shouldn't she? Her best friend is dead.