Chapter 6: The Lonely Desert
Chapter 6: The Lonely Desert
“Alright, alright!” Silverstar bellowed. “Who’s on patrol tonight?”
“That would be me” Mac huffed, crawling out from under his blanket next to the fire pit.
The caravan had stopped five days ago, a sudden rain making the road morph into a thick mud, it being too treacherous to use. It was easy enough to make camp for that long. Level tended to live up to his name, having made an outhouse, with firewood to spare, out of little more than twigs in the desert.
The carriage was parked a few feet from the road, with a fire pit placed to it’s back. Other than a few clay-red mountains in the distance, and a bush or two off the road, the space was surprisingly empty The evening’s alway seemed colder to Mac, even during the hotter months, so he was thankful for that. Not to mention it kept unwanted pests away.
Big Macintosh groaned as he padded over to the sheriff. Three day of no progress could wear on a pony. That ain’t the problem... Mac thought, spying Silverstar’s trademark mustache muttering something towards him. Although, this hold-up is taking much too long. Hell, Ah can see more rain clouds headin’ our way... Darks swirls sat over a mountain in the distance, ominously moving forward, confirming Mac’s nervousness. Ah don’t like the look of it.
“Hey Silver” muttered Big Mac. “Ah’m here.”
“You good, brother?” Silverstar asked. “Ya seem down.”
Big Mac sighed. “Ah just-... it’s nothing.”
His friend looked Big Mac over, a hint of worry in his eye. “...Well alright, if yer sure. You know the drill. Standard patrol ‘round the camp, keep critters around, all that.”
Mac nodded his head. “Whose on with me tonight?”
Silverstar grinned. “Let me see...” Silverstar hummed, running through a mental checklist. “Well, it ain’t me or Braeburn. Or Lockbox. That leaves three possible ponies, an’ Ah should probably pick somepony yer familiar with...”
Mac huffed again,. “Ah’ll get her. Though, Ah expect this kinda scheming from Braeburn, not you.”
Silverstar laughed, walking back to his own plot of land by the fire. “Night, Mac. Don’t be too loud. Remember, rest of us need our sleep!”
Mac groaned, his steps kicking up small clouds of dust. The entire journey, Braeburn had incessantly been teasing him about Spitfire, and it looked like he was rubbing off on others. “Just great...” he muttered, walking over to a lump of blankets on the ground. It wasn’t that it bothered him all that much; For all that they teased him about, it was at least, true. However, that didn’t give them the right to trivialize his interest in Spitfire. There’s only so much a stallion can take!
“Spitfire, up an’ at ‘em” Mac grumbled, waking the pegasus from her spot. She shot up, a bundle of sheets, feathers, and fur.
“Ah! A-ah... what?” Spitfire said, her mane even messier than usual. She looked around the camp in a haze, until her eyes settled on the stallion next to her. “Oh, hey Mac. What’s up?”
“We’re on watch tonight. So grab some water, wake up, an’ meet me by the stagecoach.”
“Um, yeah alright.” Spitfire stumbled up, blinking her eyes. “Where are you-” Spitfire looked to her side, seeing that apparently Big Mac had left. “Wow, okay” she said, a bit irritated at his rudeness. She rubbed more of her sleepiness out of her eyes and walked over to the stagecoach.
“How long are we going for tonight?” she asked.
“Till about 4, Ah figure, or until Silverstar relieves us” Mac answered, handing her some bread.
“Um... Thanks?”
“We’re gonna be out there for a bit” Big Mac said. “Don’t want ya gettin‘ too hungry when we need to be watching out fer stuff.” He smiled. ”Plus, helps ya wake up, Ah always found.”
“Very true...” Spitfire mumbled through breadcrumbs. She opened her wings and hovered up to the carriage roof, bread still in hoof. Mmmm. Feels goooood... she thought, spreading her wings so that each feather hand breathing room. She noticed, like Mac, that the night was much colder than the days had been, and the pegasus in Spitfire couldn’t be happier. The breeze rustled through each one of her outstretched feathers, leaving her feeling relaxed and refreshed.
“You ready?” Mac called up to her. “Can’t be waitin‘ on ya all night, ya know.”
“Ahh, don’t worry about it” she replied hopping off the carriage and onto the ground. She rolled head-first and popped to her hooves, a bit of sand shooting from her mane. “Whew! Wide awake” Spitfire smiled.
“Well you’re just full o‘ energy, ain’t ya?” Mac groaned. “Good. At least ya’ll can keep me from nodding off.”
“Oh, I can do more than that” Spitfire said in a low, luscious voice. “Think about, Macky. Just you and me, alone in the desert.” She sauntered up to Big Mac side, brushing her tail along his back legs.
“Ah ain’t falling for it.”
"Ya know, wolves aren't the only things that howl..."
That stopped Macintosh, but only for a second. He vigorously shook his head, and began to walk. "Not workin', Spits."
“Not even a little?” Spitfire asked faux-innocently, rubbing her hoof along his chest.
Mac grumbled. “Not even a little.”
“Aww, you’re no fun!” Spitfire pouted, backing away from Big Mac.
“Well, Ah prolly just got used to it, since ya do it often enough” he chuckled. “Come on, moonlight’s burnin’. Let’s go.”
Mac and Spitfire trotted on a dirt path Sheriff Silverstar had plotted out the day they’d stopped here. It was a fourty foot circular perimeter around the camp, just far enough that the fire from the camp didn’t catch it.
“So Mac...” Spitfire started, “what do you think? Is the buffalo herd really gonna be that easy to find?”
“Well, it’s been easier since we got on good terms with ‘em” he said with a sign. "But..."
“But?”
“But with the current state of affairs, it might’ve messed up their migration pattern.” Mac slowly sat down, his eyes looking out over the vast, dusty land. The stirring in the sky drew closer, deep rumbles rolling through like the grumble of a hungry lion’s belly. It made him nervous.
“And Ah I don’t like that, much.”
Spitfire looked at him quizzically. “What’re you talking about?”
“The storm”. Big Mac pointed up to the sky, his hoof circling the clouds. “Usually, when a storm that size rolls ‘round, either two things happen. One” Mac met Spitfire’s gaze, ”...the herd heads around the storm, which would probably push them in our direction.”
“So how’s that bad?” Spitfire asked. “Seems like we’d want them to do that.”
“Well, we would. If that’s what they chose to do. But usually, Thunderhead don’t like to play gentle. Ah’ll bet he ran into that storm head first.”
“What!?” Spitfire yelled. “Why the hay would he do that? What is he, a moron?”
“Nah, he just likes to have fun.”
“How is that...” she said, pointing at the storm, “ ...fun!?”
Mac shrugged. “He’s... “rough ‘round the edges”, Ah suppose. You’ll see when you meet him.”
“...I guess.” Spitfire sat next to her friend, blowing a lock of hair out of her face. “Although, that doesn’t really paint him in a good light.”
Big Mac chuckled. “What, ya nervous?”
“Yeah right!” Spitfire laughed. “Remember who you’re talkin‘ to. This is the mare who pulled off the Manehattan Mushroom with a sprained wing.”
“The Manehattan what-now?” Mac questioned.
“Ya know, the... oh right” Spitfire said, rubbing her left foreleg. “Earth pony. You wouldn’t happen to watch stunt flying, would you?”
“Nah” Mac answered. “Ah know a little, but no, Ah don’t see it much.”
“Well, regardless, all you need to know is that it’s hard and dangerous.”
Mac scoffed. “Ah sure it is.”
“What? You doubt my power?” Spitfire said, dropping her voice low, shaking her front hooves like a certain blue magician.
“Calm down” Mac sighed, scrunching up his face and looking away. “Didn’t mean nothin’ by it.”
“I was just...” Spitfire stopped herself upon seeing Big Mac so frustrated. “Dude, are you alright?”
“Ah’m fine” he said quickly, steeling his gaze on the moving storm ahead.
Geez, what the hell’s his problem tonight? Spitfire watched him for a bit, unsure of exactly what to say. “Um, you sure you’re okay? You seem a bit... tense.”
“Yep!” replied Mac, harsher than he wished to. Spitfire flinched slightly, huffing as she looked away from Big Mac.
Fine then. The two ponies sat with each other, tension slowly rising as the storm crept even closer. Spitfire pawed at the ground subconsciously, trying to think of some way to clear the awkwardness.
It seemed she wouldn’t have to.
“Ah’m sorry” Big Mac said quickly. “Ah didn’t mean to be so cranky.”
“Well, you certainly did a good job at it.”
“Ah...” Mac looked towards his friend. “Ah know, and again, sorry. Ah guess Ah’m just stressed or something.”
“Do you wanna talk about it?”
Spitfire smiled, looking back. Macintosh frowned, his eyes growing wide. “Ah don’t know. Ah, uhh... don’t really talk about that kinda stuff.”
“Ya know” Spitfire said, “keeping that stuff bottled up can be bad for a pony.” She found herself inching closer to Mac.
“Well... it’s nothin’, really.”
“Listen, big guy” said Spitfire, placing a hoof on Mac’s shoulder. “You gotta let it out somehow. Why not do it to a friend?”
“Ah don’t remember friends tryin’ to seduce each other.” said Mac
“Wait, is that what this is all about?” Spitfire titled her head, frowning. “If it really bothers you that much, you could’ve told me to stop.”
“Nah, it not that” Mac said, cracking a smile. “Ah know you’re just teasing me. It’s just...” He sighed, straining his neck until a loud pop sounded from it. “This whole thing feels wrong.”
A familiar fluttering sound to his left told Macintosh what was about to happen next. A light weight landed atop Mac’s head, his ears and mane being pressed out to the left and right. Two yellow hooves rested around his neck, and he could distinctly feel a chin resting on the apex of his skull.
“Story time, Macky” Spitfire said from above.
Mac sighed, rolling his shoulders so that Spitfire would rest more comfortably on him. Her mane tickled the side of his nose, wafting over the smell of something spicy.
“Well think about it” started Mac. “First off, look at how these so-called "thieves" are workin’. There draggin’ their score out into the desert, while completely covering their tracks. That in itself is strange. Ah can’t imagine there’s anyplace to sell it out there. And nopony ‘round here would buy it, seein’ as most of it’s branded or marked.”
“Okay” Spitfire muttered. “So their not selling it. And so far, everything that’s been stolen has been farming tools and irrigation pipes. Well, that and the “now-returned” statue.” Spitfire hummed, swinging her back legs along Mac’s sides. “...Maybe they’re building something.”
Big Mac chuckled. “Well, maybe. But Ah can’t imagine what. Or for what reason. And this is still assumin’ that we are dealing with more than one pony.” Mac turned to look back at the caravan, which made Spitfire’s head follow. “And considering the fact that the folks o’ Appleloosa need that equipment just to keep goin’, Ah don’t wanna waste time to ponder the loftier thoughts of scumbags.”
“Oh, I don’t know” said Spitfire. “There’s plenty of things a pony could build with enough time and crazy.” She pushed herself up and leaned over, looking at Big Mac upside down. “Maybe it’s a giant, mechanical spider!”
“......”
Spitfire tried to contain herself under Macintosh’s gaze, but found if increasingly hard. “Pfff!” Spitfire sputtered, chuckled throatily. “Okay, maybe not!”
“If they were able to make somethin’ that stupid, Ah’ll eat mah harness!” Mac laughed, his head bouncing Spitfire up and down. His breathing slowed to its normal pace, Mac looking up to the extra luggage on his back.
Spitfire’s head blocked most of his vision. He could tell that she was watching the clouds like he was. A flash of light drew both their eyes forward, the crackle of thunder following soon after.
“Looks like it gonna start raining” Big Mac muttered.
“Yep” Spitfire replied, looking down.
When their eyes met, Mac could already feel the heat rising to his face. Spitfire’s apricot eyes were smiling, and her yellow and orange mane framed her face in a wondrous way. Another flash of lightning struck behind them, and to Mac, that light seemed to be like a halo placed on his annoying angel.
Mac couldn’t tear his eyes away, not that he wanted to. He knew that he found Spitfire to be pretty, but he wasn’t sure if he knew just how gorgeous she was. Her perfect, uplifting smile that matched her devil may care attitude. Spitfire’s wild, untamed mane that fit said attitude. And her eyes. There was a passion in them that reminded him of his own work. He severely doubted her passion was apple-related, but Mac understood the feeling.
And not to mention, her perfect, well-toned...
“Hey, um, dude?” Spitfire asked, waving her hoof in front of Mac’s face. “You okay?”
He shook his head, snapping out of his trance. “Huh, Wha- oh! Yeah, yeah, Ah’m fine.” The clouds, not happy with Big Mac’s divided attention, thundered above him, streaks of lightning striking the ground. Both ponies looked up as the rain came down.
“Ya know, it’s been raining a lot since I got here. I thought Appaloosa was going through a drought?” Spitfire chuckled.
“We should prolly get outta this” mentioned Mac.
“...Yeah. ” Spitfire turned, walking towards the caravan with Macintosh trailing behind. The desert sand squished and squashed under their hooves, with more and more rain starting to fall.
The caravan wasn’t far, the shadow of the carriage’s canvas hood outlined by occasional strikes of lightning. A trail of quickly dispersing smoke rose up from somewhere near the middle of camp.
Big Mac would’ve been just fine returning to camp, even if it was soaked. Maybe we’d hafta huddle under the cart, but that’s alright, Mac thought. Ah mean, If Spitfire an‘ I just happened to get stuck together...
Squish.
The sound of wet hooves from behind startled Macintosh. He whipped around and took a defensive stance, his head low to the ground. “Spitfire!” he called out.
“What is it?”
“We got somethin’!”
The pegasus snapped around and ran to Mac’s side, flaring her wings out apprehensively. “Who’s there?” she whispered to her comrade.
“Don’t know” he said back. “But Ah heard it. Sounded like a pony.”
The shroud of night and overcast clouds kept the two from seeing anypony approach. According to her eyes, the only pony around Spitfire was Big Mac. But her ears told her a different story. She could pick out the rain landing a bit higher than were the ground was, and that it was landing on something softer than sand. Sure, that noise could be coming from either her or Macintosh. But along with it, Spitfire picked out the distinct slopping sound of wet hooves being dragged along tiresomely.
And that particular sound was coming in front of them.
“Hey!” Spitfire called, deciding to take the initiative. “Is somepony out there?”
No one replied, but the sloshing, walking sounds grew louder.
“Listen!” she tried again. “If you can heard me, respond. There’s about five of us, so don’t even think about a fight!”
“What’re ya doin’!?” whispered Mac.
“Bluffing. If this pony’s dangerous, we should have an advantage.”
Thud. A splash of water accompanied the sound, and it was clear that whatever was trotting towards them had fallen over.
“Quick Spits, let’s get this pony back to camp. We can deal with it there.”
“Right” she nodded. The two slowly approached the limp, silhouetted form. It lay in a bundle of limbs, its frizzy orange mane stuck to its face. Spitfire crouched down, brushing the mane out of their approacher’s face. “Hey Mac” she called out. “This isn’t a pony.”
A bolt of lightning landed off in the distance, illuminating the scene for a moment. Macintosh sat next to Spitfire, grimly frowning. “Yer right” he grumbled. “Is she alright?”
“I don’t know” she replied, placing her ear to the collapsed figure’s chest. “There’s a steady heartbeat, and I don’t see any cuts or bruise's, but...” Spitfire rose, her eyes darkening. “She’s not good, Mac.”
“Spitfire, go to camp, and gather up as many blankets ya can. See if ya’ll can get some water an‘ food, too.” Macintosh approached their guest, slowly sliding his neck under her frame and lifting. She was heavier than a pony, with wider shoulders and longer legs. Mac situated her on his back, turning back to the caravan.
Spitfire rummaged through the camp’s supplies, grabbing any rag, towel, or cloth that even resembled a blanket. Of the few things that were still outside, coating wasn’t one of them. Nothing here, dammit! Spitfire moaned. She needed to find something useful, and fast. I’ve never felt another being so cold before. Nerves frayed, she burst into the carriage, waking everypony inside.
“Gee-watz!” shouted Silverstar, wide-eyed. “What’s all the commotion?!”
“Quick! I need all your blankets!”
“What for?” grumbled Lockbox, crawling out from his own warm security.
“We found somepony.. err, kinda” she explained, while snatching every blanket within reach. “She’s ice cold, so clear a space for when Mac gets here...”
Braeburn sat up, his hat falling off his face and into his lap. “So, ya’ll actually ran into somepony out there?”
“Well, she’s not exactly a pony...” said Spitfire, rubbing her head.
“What’d ya mean?” Braeburn asked, an edge of nervousness in his voice.
“Well...” Suddenly, there was a knock on the carriage door. It flung open, a large, red stallion standing with his head low. He wiggled his way inside, allowing the figure on his back to slowly slide off.
“Spitfire, we need them blankets!”
“Got ‘em right here!” she exclaimed, yanking every blanket away from the formerly sleeping ponies. Together, the two wrapped the brown-furred lady in everything they had, swaddling her as much as possible.
“So” Macintosh muttered after finishing, “anypony know who this is?”
“Ah do” said Braeburn, straining a croak from his voice. He crawled over to the swaddled lump, closing the distance between himself and the pile of blankets.
“Well, that’s go-”
“Mac!” cried Braeburn, silencing his cousin. “Could ya’ll jus’ shut up fer a minute!”
Big Mac recoiled, taking a step back. He watched his cousin curl inwardly, wrapping his forelegs around the patient. Braeburn squeezed, trying to offer every ounce of heat he had.
“Who is she, Brae?” Mac asked quietly.
“...My little warrior’s sick, Mac” he murmured. “She‘ ain’t never been this sick before. She’s like an ice-sickle, Mac.” Braeburn’s voice was on the verge of tears, his hooves shaking.
Macintosh paced over next to Braeburn, lying his head on the pile of blankets. Braeburn looked over, a thankful gleam in his eye. “Don’t worry, Brae. She’ll be alright.”
“Mac’s right” said Spitfire, opting to huddle behind the cold pile across from Big Mac. “We got this.”
Braeburn nodded his thanks, tightening his grip.
The other ponies in the carriage watched politely, seeing that Braeburn was ready to be pushed right now. Whoever this mystery mare was, she was important to him. And considering her condition, he was right to be worried. Anypony could she she was in bad shape; the pile she was under was shaking feverishly, even with three ponies providing extra heat. Her breathing seemed very faint, and the fact that she was soaked couldn’t help any.
“Alright, everypony” huffed Silverstar gruffly. “Let’s just get some shuteye. We can deal with this in the mornin’.” Settling down, most ponies fell asleep quickly, regardless of the surprise guest. Braeburn was still wide awake, whispering words of encouragement into the shivering mare’s ear.
“Mac,” Spitfire whispered. “You okay?”
“Just worried” he admitted, watching his cousin. “Brae’s not doin’ too well. ...Shoulda got here faster.”
“Hey” she said, placing her hoof over Mac’s. “She’s gonna be fine, okay?”
“How do ya know?”
“Trust me.” Spitfire wrapped her hoof around her friend’s, and she was a bit surprised when he squeezed back. Spitfire, however, didn’t pull away. She knew he needed this, and although she wouldn’t admit it, she did too.
“Goodnight, Spits” said Mac quietly, closing his eyes.
Spitfire scooted up behind the mare in the blankets, a light grin on her lips. “Night, Mac.”
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While it's great to see this update, when's the next chapter for "A Scratched Orchard" coming?
glad to see another update love the pairing
3423341
Oh god.... (starts sweating frantically)
But in all seriousness, between balancing my writing, work, and trying to have some semblance of a personal life, I haven't had much inspiration to write that particular story. I want to make sure that if I put something out, it's at a quality that you deserve.
That being said, I'm not giving up on that story, or any other on-going tale I have right now. They will be released, I just haven't quite figured out what to do with it.
Thanks for reading, regardless!
3423382 Perfectly understandable. I know just how much balancing work and all rest sucks some times.
Love it not much else to say
men, i like the atmosphere of this story and i would like to see it to the end, keep delivering on this if you can
I love your work man I hope the story didnt die.
Don't you dare stop this. I wanna know what is going on. Please continue.
Wild Wild West anyone?