Peregrination to the Promised Land

by Alden MacManx

Chapter 4- New York, New York

Joe and Linz awoke just after first light, the sunlight reflecting off the snow and into the house. Breakfast was quick but filling, and Joe was soon ready to head on out. He had his radio and phone secured on his harness, and the night before Linz had put together two packs in a sort of saddlebag arrangement, arranged so he could get about adequately even with his wings furled. Fully loaded, Joe went on his way, not without giving Linz a long kiss and Trixie a skritch between the ears.

Joe found that flying with the packs was no problem at all as he climbed, settling at about two hundred feet as he followed the Thruway to the Tappan Zee Bridge, then following the east bank of the Hudson River south. What struck Joe was that there was absolutely no sign of habitation. No traffic, no smoke, just an unbroken blanket of snow over everything. The weather had warmed some, the air temp being just below freezing at this hour.

The city was even spookier than Westchester County. Of all the times he had been to the city, there had always been other people around. Not now, though. Joe felt chills in his mane as he overflew Manhattan, feeling the creepiness settle in. It just felt WRONG to him. He regretted not bringing his phone with him, because he could have used some music about now.

Landing atop a building west of Central Park, he phoned Fred to let him know he was near. Right after hanging up, a plume of black smoke started climbing into the blue sky, marking his destination. With renewed vigor, Joe flapped off the rooftop towards the smoke.

Nearing the castle, Joe could see ponies coming outside, more ponies than he had seen at one time. Big ones, small ones, unicorns, pegasi, regular ponies, even something that looked like a zebra, gathering around a large bonfire. He could see the wings twitching on the pegasi, along with their admiring and yearning looks.

Joe landed about fifteen feet away from the assembled ponies, feeling a little apprehensive. A larger red and tan pony stepped forward, wearing a crudely stitched vest with pockets. “You must be Joe. I’m Fred Stafford, the coordinator here. Welcome to Camp Belvedere,” the pony said.

After a swallow, Joe smiled. “Hello, everyone. I’m Joe Velloti, from Nanuet, which is about twenty miles away. I talked to Fred yesterday, and he asked me down to look around,” he said, undoing the buckles from the packs, letting them fall. “I decided to bring some gifts with me. I hope you like it.”

Fred blinked some when the packs hit the snow-covered ground. “You didn’t say you were bringing anything,” he said as a unicorn’s horn lit up, undoing the buckles, revealing the foodstuffs inside.

“Just trying to be neighborly, is all,” Joe said with a smile as the packs were emptied, a line forming to bring the food inside. “Now, I heard the pegasi here don’t know how to fly yet. It’s not a matter of believing you can or not, it’s just a matter of DOING it. Your wings are not ornaments, they are there to be USED. So, use them!”

To prove his point, Joe flapped slowly, rising off the snow-covered ground. “There’s no reason to know all the whys and wherefores, just know that a pegasi’s wings are there to make you fly. I learned how when I opened the door to a butcher shop that had not been entered since May. Going up was the fastest way to de-ass the area!” he concluded with a laugh, which spread among the remaining ponies.

“It’s just that easy to do?” Fred asked. “Then, why have not the rest of the pegasi figured it out?”

“Because you folk are still thinking like a human, not like a pegasus. I didn’t even give myself the chance to say it was impossible, I just wanted to get out of range of the stench. Next thing I knew, I had just missed the store’s sign and was over the roof, pulling for altitude. Now, you pegasi, spread out some and spread your wings, all the while looking at me up here. I’m willing to bet at least one of you will come up to meet me,” Joe called down, rising to about thirty feet.

Thus encouraged, the six pegasi there all spread their wings and flapped, looking at him, not the ground. “If I can do it, YOU can do it. So, DO IT!” Joe shouted.

One after another, the pegasi slowly lifted off. “Good! Now, don’t think, just DO! There is no try, just do. Or do not. You can do, so DO!” Soon, all six were hovering in a ragged circle around Joe. “That’s the spirit! Now, slowly, back down to the ground! Don’t just stop, ease off on the power. Just slowly settle down,” Joe said while doing just that. “Watch me, not the ground! You can do it!”

All were soon back on the snow, looking about as if they did not believe what they just did. “See? It’s not impossible. Now that you know that you CAN, you have no reason not to stop doing so, improving your skill. I have a little head start, both in flying and the fact my mother is a pilot, so I have a working idea on how flight is supposed to work.”

One of the smaller pegasi, an orange and yellow female, looked at Joe. “Does it matter how it works, sir? It does, so use it, right?”

Joe grinned. “That’s right, young lady! That’s the mindset to use! It’s there, so use it!”

Fred spoke up. “Why don’t you pegasi practice flying while Joe and I talk a bit, okay?”

The largest pegasus, a black furred stallion with white wings, said, “You got it, Mister Mayor. Let us get our flight confidence up some, and that will give us more searching opportunities.”

“Sounds like a plan, George,” Fred said as George turned to the others and got them to line up before taking wing. Fred then went over to Joe. “George Wilkins is my assistant in running things. He worked down in the garment district, while I worked at WABC, as an engineer.”

“So that’s how you got the radio station up and going. You already knew how it worked,” Joe said as he followed Fred into the Castle. The Castle is a mere shell, whatever fittings that were there hastily removed, the floor a sea of sleeping bags and blankets, while over in one corner an impromptu kitchen was set up, several ponies hard at work with the food Joe had brought.

“That’s right. I figured it would be a good way to attract attention. Only problem is that I have to run matters with a bank of solar cells, and after charging all day, I can only run the studio for about half an hour before running dry. None of us are good mechanics here. Heck, we’re lucky to get a couple of cars running again. We use them to scavenge, two teams out right now, one in the Bronx, one out in Brooklyn,” Fred explained as he led Joe up a flight of steps to the tower, where he had his office.

“I’m a chemical engineer by trade, not a true mechanic. But, I am the first assistant engineer for the Nanuet Fire Department, so I can try to jigger something together. I have some ideas in mind for one of the department vans, but I have not done more than daydream yet,” Joe explained as they climbed.

“I’m sure, between all of us, we could come up with something. Now, what do you think of our arrangements here?” Fred asked.

Joe thought for a few seconds before replying. “What are your plans for spring? Are you going to plant fields here in Central Park? Are any of you farmers or gardeners?”

“Earth ponies like me are supposed to have good talents in making plants grow but before we got our act together, fall set in and we could not plant anything, so we’re forced to scavenge,” Fred told him. “We’re having to go farther and farther out to find good forage that has not been ruined by dogs or rats. We have not seen much of either recently, because of the cold, but it won’t stay this way for long. Right now, I’m leaning towards a caravan to Alexandria, just to learn how to cope.”

“I’m leaning that way, too. Either there or Toronto. Staying here isn’t in the cards for us. We need to get our asses to a place where we can grow our own food and not depend on preservatives. Problem is, I have no clue as to how to do it,” Joe admitted.

“You see the problem as clearly as I do. While we will do better together, here is just not the place to do it. But, where to go?” Fred said, almost in a despairing tone.

“Alexandria,” Joe said bluntly. “We need to learn new skills, and they are supposed to have a repository of knowledge there. So, let’s go get it.”

“We have a big job in front of us. How to prepare vehicles, how to prepare the ponies, how to find food… won’t be easy.”

“Life never is easy, Fred. Especially now. Shall we work on a plan of attack for the great bug out?”

By four that afternoon, Joe and Fred had hammered out a tentative plan of attack for going to Alexandria. Fred needed to sound out the ponies of New York City, and of course supplies had to be dug up, vehicles set up to be driven by ponies, et cetera, et cetera. Joe flew back up to Nanuet, phoning Linz before leaving Central Park.

Back home, Joe outlined the plan he and Fred had cooked up that day. “We’re going to go to Alexandria, but not until spring. We’re going to go in three groups. The scout team, which will be you, me and maybe one other, will lead the way, marking places to forage and camp. The prep team will be following us, to take a closer look at the sites we pick out, making them ready for the evac team, which will be those who choose to follow us from New York to Alexandria,” he reported.

“Why set things up like that?” Linz asked.

“Because Fred is positive not everyone will be willing to leave New York,” Joe said after taking a bite out of the salmon casserole Linz had prepared. “More than that, he’s sure that ponies will want to leave under their own power, once they come to a decision, be it a week after the caravan leaves, or next year. So, by setting up a string of outposts and supply dumps along the way, about thirty to forty miles apart along a marked path, people will have an easier way to go and an easier time doing so.”

Linz thought some as she chewed on a roll. “But, how are we going to go there? No cars.” She asked.

“Fred has a couple of people who were mechanics before the flash. They have managed to bung together something to allow cars to be driven, and they will be willing to come up here to outfit the Patrol vehicle for horse drivers. I’m going to go down to Belvedere again day after tomorrow. We have some work to do here first,” Joe said to a nervous-looking Linz.

“Good. After being alone all day, I want to spend some time with you. Being alone can be a bit frightening now,” Linz admitted.

Joe reached a wing across the low coffee table and patted her face. “I know. That’s why I insisted I get to spend some time with you before the next conference. So, what will be on your mind for tomorrow?”

“First off, we go and get some gas for the generator, so we can recharge batteries. After that, another raid run at the Target, and maybe a look at Costco. If we’re going to have company, I had best prepare, right?” Linz said with a giggle.

“Not a bad idea. Who and when will be decided day after tomorrow. They’ll probably send one of the salvage crews to bring back a load of supplies. You should have seen the looks my package got when they were opened. Linz, they are just scraping by down there. Most places they find have been ruined by dogs and rats. Besides, Central Park is not only not the best place to raise crops, hardly anyone in the group knows HOW to raise crops!” Joe said, letting out some of the worry and anxiety that had built up in him during his stay in the city.

“I can believe you, Joe. You’re a good man in a weird situation. All you can do is the best you can for who you can. I’ll help, you know that,” Linz said gently, taking his head in her glow and ‘running her fingers’ through his mane.

“We’re good for each other, Linz. We care about each other, and want to make each other happy, despite the surroundings and happenings we find ourselves in. Just about as close as we can be to being married, eh?”

Linz nodded at the words. “Sounds good enough for me, Joe. I’m game if you are,” she said, reaching her neck across the table to kiss Joe’s nose. However, the romantic moment was interrupted by a MEOW from the mantelpiece. They both looked to see Trixie perched there, looking down on the two, radiating smugness.

“TRIXIE!” the two shouted before breaking into laughter.

Author's Note:

Okay, a plan of action has been worked out. Now, to see if it works...

Comments

[Dances With Unicorns]

I can see the main conflict in this story being how to organize their caravan to Alexandria. The team leaders need to determine that each pony will need X amount of food and water each day for X days of travel time, allowing for additional food and water for X number of other returnees that they find on the way to Alexandria.

What vehicles to bring would also be a source of conflict, as some would want civilian vehicles from recreational vehicles, Greyhound buses taken from the Port Authority Bus Terminal or PABT, to stretched limousines or would they choose mostly military vehicles? You could devote an entire chapter having your characters explore the PABT building, to find vehicles and an experienced, returnee bus driver.

What about basic auto mechanic training for the adults? For example, I think that the team leaders would want a flat tire to be changed for a new tire in a fast and efficient manner by any adult in their caravan.

I can imagine that the New York City ponies would ask the residents of Alexandria what they needed, and then attempt to find these things, and then bring those to Alexandria.

If this caravan detours to Chicago to find things that the citizens of Alexandria have requested, they might find a returnee named Roger Chen who is knowledgeable in gardening.

[Alden MacManx]

9324036
Nice idea, but not the way I'm handling it. Joe and Linz will be the pathfinders on the peregrination, taking as direct a route from NYC to Alexandria as they can, marking and calling in findings. A second team will be in charge of setting up camps and such for the third wave, those who do want to go.

[Dances With Unicorns]

After doing thirty seconds of Internet research, I found out that the population of New York City was 8.582 million in the year 2015. So, assuming that everyone will return within ten thousand years and that the rate of return was steady, I took 8.582 million and then divided by ten thousand years means that about 858 returnees would return each year or about two returnees per day. However, from reading the stories and the comments I think that the rate of return is a right skewed, bell curve meaning that fewer returnees on average would return in the first thousand years after the Event, while the majority of the returnees would return in the last thousand years after the Event. That would explain why there are so few returnees in New York City in your excellent story.