"... You ready to head in?"
"Shh! Keep your voice down, what if they hear us?"
"Don't be stupid. We've been scouting out this place for hours, we made sure they were gone."
"Whatever dude, these guys are nightmares, you know that…"
"Well, we're armed, we can handle ourselves. Besides, you heard the boss- either we get those documents or we don't come back!"
"Right… let's just get this over with…"
The two ponies staking out the building across the way quickly made their way across the street, ducking into an alley. They stealthily slipped around the neighboring houses, keeping an eye out for any possible witnesses. To their shock, a nearby door opened, a pony exiting his home to take out the trash. The two ponies stood by idly, waiting for him to go back inside before continuing forward.
With the unexpected interruption now over, they continued their approach, making sure not to bump into any trash cans or cause any undue noise. They arrived at the backdoor, each pony taking a side of the frame. One pony nodded to the other and went to reach for the doorknob, feeling a slight breeze run across his fetlock.
"Door's open…" he whispered, motioning to draw his weapon. The pony across from him did the same, raising it to eye level. He mouthed that they would enter on three and to stay close. He counted in his mind, and quietly pushed the door open, slipping inside.
The kitchen had pots and pans strewn about, cooking ingredients as well as measuring cups lying amidst the cookware. The room smelled vaguely of apples, the sweet and savory aroma still hanging in the air. One pony trotted over to a mixing bowl, tentatively reaching for its contents when his partner smacked him on the shoulder, motioning towards the living room. The two ponies quickly checked the room and pressed forward.
The living room looked relatively pristine, almost as if it had never been used. The furniture looked well-kept and the floors appeared polished, save for the scuffs left by horseshoes on wood panels. The two ponies eyed the front door, and noticed a staircase on their left side.
Suddenly, a large, feathered object leapt up from somewhere out of view, screeching and flapping its wings as it shot past them and out the open back door.
"Damn, what the hell was that!?"
"Looked like some kinda bird… maybe it got in through there," the other pony responded, pointing at an open window.
"Whatever, keep moving and stay quiet," the first pony responded, nodding in the direction of the staircase.
The ponies moved around, making sure that the departure of the feathered creature did not cause any trouble, and peered up at the top of the staircase. They then began their ascent, guns raised in the event they needed them.
Once at the top, they saw the upstairs hallway was empty, seeing a pair of doorways opposite one another. They silently made their way across the hallway, deciding to take the door on the left. They each took one side of the door, flinging it open and pointing their guns at whatever may be behind it.
The bathroom was profoundly empty, a heavy, moist heat hitting the two ponies in the face. The mirror was fogged and the sink was still wet, having been recently used. Must've gone out for a night on the town... the lead pony thought to himself.
The two ponies quietly shut the door, turning their attention to the door behind them. They took their positions and gently pushed the door open, the ripe scent of sex hitting them in the face. They peered inside, finding the room a complete mess.
The bed was completely disheveled, the pillows resting on the floor and the comforter and sheets laying beside them. The ponies pinched their noses, one having an expression of revulsion as they entered. They began to ransack the room, looking for anything important or any possible leads to where their objective may be hidden.
"Hey, check this out…" one pony said, pointing to a chest at the foot of the bed. The other pony approached it, eyeing the padlock on the front.
"You think you can pick it?" the other pony asked.
"Gimme a sec…" he replied. The soft thrum of magic coming to life filled his ears as the magic condensed to a point on the end of his horn, extending to the lock. After a few moments and concentrated thoughts, the lock gave a satisfying click and popped open.
"Good work," the first pony said.
"Hey, they call me Lock for a reason!" the pony responded, proud of himself. They lifted the lid on the chest, finding it empty save for one piece of parchment.
"What- aw, come on! This is bullshit!" the first pony exclaimed, tossing the paper aside as he continued to examine the chest for any possible hidden compartments.
"Now hold on, maybe this is a clue..." the other pony said, taking the paper from him. He brought it up and began to read.
'To whoever was stupid enough ta break into our house to try 'n loot it for yer crap and find this letter: Howdy! I gotta say, I'm mighty impressed. Ya didn't get caught, and ya didn't get killed. That's gotta be worth sumthin'. Though, I gotta admit, y'all've got balls a' steel ta try 'n sneak into our house, considerin' the rumors runnin' around these parts about us. I just hope ya manage ta get out 'fore we decide ta paint the walls with yer brains.
I almost forgot: Ain't Striker a doll? She's a good falcon. Hope ya didn't piss her off though. She's like our own security system- if ya didn't kill her when ya saw her, y'all best believe she went ta find us, and y'all best believe we're on our way ta come find out what spooked her.
Oh, and one last thing: run.'
The two ponies felt their blood run cold as they felt cold steel press against the backs of their necks.
"Wow Orchard, you were right; they really were that stupid!" a stallion's voice said.
"I told ya Brass, they were gonna show up after we 'left'. We had ta make it look like we was gonna go out somewhere so they'd take the bait and try ta raid us," a female voice responded. "By the way, we're gonna kill these guys, I don't think usin' our code-names is really necessary."
"I guess yer right," the stallion responded.
"So Shell, you in the mood ta get the razor wire?" the mare questioned.
He pondered her words for a moment. "Nah, we did just take a shower after all," Shell said. "Not gonna lie though, my hips're still a little sore from our session a bit ago."
"Mkay, so the old fashioned way," the mare replied, the stallion under her gun feeling his heart begin to race as the hammer of her gun clicked into firing position. "And for the record, I coulda gone a couple more rounds," she mewled.
"Maybe when we're done here?"
"The sooner we're done, the sooner we're back in bed."
Shell gave a small laugh, returning his full attention to the stallion in front of him. "Sorry it had ta end this way, colts. It ain't nothin' personal…" Shell said, pulling the lever on his rifle, a fresh round loading into the chamber.
"It's just business," Applejack said as she pulled the trigger.
Applejack gave a heavy sigh. "Nothin’," she said to herself as she pawed at the coarse dirt under her hoof.
This was the fourth dead season for their farm in a row, and it looked as though it wasn’t going to change any time soon. No matter what she did, nothing seemed to work. She tilled and re-tilled the dirt, trying to dig deep enough to get fresh soil. She watered the soil every day, tried planting fresh grass and even going as far to add fertilizer and fresh mulch, but to no avail. She stared at the dead husks of her once beautiful, vivid green apple trees. Their once full branches, now completely devoid of life, swayed slightly in the breeze.
"Well… looks like we’ll be payin’ in bits again…" she muttered as she shook her head, dragging her tools back to the Apple family homestead. "I wonder how Mac’s doin’..." she wondered aloud, looking up towards the heavens. "I just hope he's safe..."
Ever since tensions between the Yaks and the Gryphons had begun to mount and Equestria had intervened as a diplomatic intermediary to prevent full-scale war, Big Macintosh had been deployed to the neutral zone and was stationed at its heart. She and Granny had always been against Mac joining the Guard, but in their situation, the extra bits were necessary.
Once she had put away her tools, Applejack made her way through the kitchen and past the living room. The house was empty, Granny Smith having taken a small trip to visit Golden Delicious again and Apple Bloom still at school. She moved into the bathroom, turning on the hot water and jumping into the shower.
She gave a sigh as the heated water seeped down through her coat and onto her skin. "I hate that I hafta do this… but if it’s what’s keepin’ my family safe, I’ll do it," she sighed. She finished washing up, grabbing a towel and drying herself off. She grabbed her mane and tied it up as tightly as she could in a bun.
She left the bathroom, making her way into her bedroom and pulling a black jumpsuit from her dresser drawer. She slipped into it, zipping it up to her neck. She retrieved a plain white face mask from the same drawer. The mask gave off a strange energy, having been issued to her by the Novas as a tool to do her job. She begrudgingly put it on, feeling a strange sensation wash over her. She trotted over to her mirror and found that the pony she was seeing was not herself, but instead a mare of similar height and build, but different coloration, wearing a suit with the bright red star of the Nova gang on the collar of the jacket. She gave a sigh, and left her room.
Applejack made her way through town, thankful that no other ponies would recognize her in her disguise. She hated this job more than anything, but it was a necessity to keep things the way they were now. She arrived at her destination; a small house with a chimney that could not have held more than a few ponies. She knocked on the door and waited for the residents to answer. A few minutes later, a stallion emerged.
“Can I help you?” he asked.
“I’m here ta collect,” Applejack said in a voice not her own, produced by the mask to keep her identity hidden.
“O-Oh… right… come inside,” the stallion said, opening the door and allowing her in. Applejack followed him inside, where a mare, presumably his wife, sat knitting as their children did their schoolwork. The home was quaint and cozy, family photos hanging on the walls and the fireplace crackling softly as a small fire burned within. Applejack looked around, hoping that she would be able to just do her job and leave without an issue. He had already missed a payment, so if he was late again, she would have to get persuasive. “Honey, take the kids and head to the back, now,” he said with a tone of urgency.
“Of course…” the mare said, swallowing hard. “Come along now boys…” she said, ushering her sons out of the dining room and out of sight. Applejack took a seat at the now vacant table, the stallion sitting across from her. He retrieved a small chest and slid it over to her.
“This is all the bits we have…” the stallion said.
Applejack opened the chest and poured out the bits. “Mind if I count ‘em…?”
The stallion swallowed hard. “N-no, not at all…” he said nervously. Several tense moments passed, Applejack counting the bits as the stallion waited with bated breath. She then looked up at the stallion.
“You’re short two hundred bits… There’s supposed to be a thousand bits in here,” Applejack said.
The stallion sighed. “This is all we were able to bring in… business has been slow and we’re just scraping by... please, just don’t hurt my family,” he pleaded.
“Oh, I ain’t gonna hurt you or yer family… at least, not yet,” Applejack said. She then got up, walking into the living room. Whoever’s up there, I hope you can forgive me for what I’m about ta do... she thought as she spied a hoofball bat nearby. “This belong to yer son?”
“Yes, but I thought you said—” The stallion was cut off as the sound of the hoofball bat slamming into a picture frame was heard, sending glass and pieces of wood flying in every direction. Applejack had grabbed the bat and had begun swinging for the fences. She destroyed anything and everything within the bat’s reach; vases, photographs, glassware, anything fragile and easily broken. She even put the bat through the front window, shattering it.
Applejack then turned back to the stallion, who was now cowering in his seat. She stared at him for a few moments, feeling absolutely disgusted with herself. The look in his eyes was something she couldn't shake; it was one of pure, unfiltered fear. She could tell that she had convinced him that there was a large possibility that he and his family could die that day.
“I know what I said, and I’m gonna tell ya this- ya got until next week ta pay up what’s left, or it ain’t gonna be pretty,” Applejack said, tossing the hoofball bat aside. She collected the bits, put them in a satchel and made for the door, exiting and slamming it behind her. She gave a heavy sigh as she made her way back to the homestead. "I fuckin’ hate this job," she grumbled, wiping away a stray tear.
Applejack checked her watch, waiting for Apple Bloom to come up the road as she usually did after playing with Scootaloo and Sweetie Belle after school. The sun had already begun to set, and Apple Bloom was uncharacteristically absent.
“She’s over an hour late… this ain’t normal,” Applejack said. She looked up and saw two stallions dressed in black suits, wearing the trademark insignia of the Nova gang on their lapels. “Shit… they’re early…”
The stallions approached her. “Hey there, sweet cheeks.”
“The hell do you two want?” Applejack spat as the stallions circled her.
“You know why we’re here,” one stallion said.
“You got what we came for?” the other asked.
“You’re early,” Applejack said, separating herself from the stallions. “But I’ve got what ya came for. Follow me and wait in the kitchen.”
“You got it toots,” the first stallion said. She walked beside the stallions, eyeing the bright silver revolvers sitting in their holsters on their waists. She could go for a grab, but she figured she’d more than likely end up dead, so she brushed the thought from her mind for what could have been the millionth time.
They entered the house, the two stallions waiting in the kitchen as instructed. Applejack made her way up the stairs to retrieve the chest they used for bits, hefting it up and bringing it down the stairs. She slid the chest onto the table in front of them and tossed the satchel she had collected from the other stallion into the pile.
“Fifteen hundred bits,” Applejack said, to which one stallion began to shake his head.
“Yeah, this ain’t enough,” the stallion sneered. “The boss didn’t tell ya? He wants three thousand bits now,” he said.
“What!? There ain’t no way we can get that in a month’s time!” Applejack protested.
“Huh, well you’d better, if ya don’t want anything to happen to the little one, that is…” the stallion threatened. Applejack’s eyes widened. It all made sense. Apple Bloom was almost never late coming home from school, and Apple Bloom always told her when she was staying over at a friend’s house.
“You… you took her…?” Applejack murmured, feeling her blood beginning to boil.
“Sure did. S’long as you keep payin’ up, she’ll be fine,” the stallion said, paying no mind to the mare who was now seething with fury.
“I’m surprised she was able to get this much so quick, though. I mean, not like she’s got any apples to sell, considering we’ve been salting the fields for months,” the other stallion said.
“Shut up, ya idiot! We weren’t supposed to say shit about that!”
Applejack felt her body go cold. Her vision blurred at the edges. She could barely breathe, much less think. Images flashed in her mind back to the day her parents died, being put down like dogs for resisting the Don’s demands to extort them and take the profits from their farm. The idea that they had intentionally destroyed the only source of the farm’s income was something she could have dealt with… but they had already taken her parents. She was not going to lose Apple Bloom too.
“Anyway, just pay up by the end of the week and everything’s straight, you get me?” the stallion said.
“Oh… I get you…” Applejack responded absently. Without warning, Applejack grabbed the nearest stallion’s head and slammed it into the chest with every ounce of her strength, shattering the stallion’s nose and instantly knocking him unconscious.
"What the fuck!?" The stallion next to them yelled, drawing his gun and firing. He missed his mark on Applejack but hit his partner multiple times as she used his body as a meat shield. Applejack drew the now-dead thug’s gun and unloaded several shots into the other stallion’s chest, sending him to the ground and causing him to drop his gun.
Applejack approached him, kicking his gun away and pressing her own to his forehead. “Where… the fuck… is my sister!?” she growled, a roiling, intense hatred burning behind her emerald irises.
“I- I don’t know!” the stallion coughed, staining his teeth red as blood filled his lungs. “We- we weren’t the ones who took her! Please don’t kill me!” he begged. Applejack tossed the gun aside and grabbed the stallion by his head, tensing her hooves and jerking it hard. The stallion’s neck snapped like a twig, his head now positioned in a way where he could look over his shoulder with both eyes. His body slumped over, Applejack breathing heavily as she tried to recoup and calm herself down.
The adrenaline began to fade and the fires of her anger began to die down. Applejack took a quick look around her, finally grasping just how bad the situation had gotten as she promptly threw up on the kitchen floor.
Once she had emptied the contents of her stomach, she shook her head, gasping for air. What the fuck did I just do!? I… I just killed two ponies... They’re gonna kill us for this! she thought. She quickly grabbed towels and began to clean up, throwing the blood and vomit filled towels in the trash. She then grabbed the bodies and dragged them out the back door, seeing that the sun had just set, masking her actions under a rapidly darkening sky. She promptly grabbed a shovel and started digging.
I gotta get Apple Bloom back… but how? I’m no killer… right? she thought, peering down at the bodies as she dug the hole. She pushed them in, and began to shovel the dirt back up on top. With the deed done, she headed back inside, and took another shower to wash the blood, dirt and vomit off of her hooves. With the day’s events concluded, she slipped into bed, and tried to fall asleep.
Unfortunately, every time she closed her eyes she saw the stallion from earlier. The look on his face as she destroyed his home would not leave her mind, no matter how hard she fought to force it out. She eventually fought it off, but it was quickly replaced with the memory of her killing the two stallions. The memory replayed itself over and over again, the stallion's head whipping around and facing in an odd direction until she finally conceded, opening her eyes.
They’re gonna kill us for this… unless I kill them first, she thought. She sat up in bed, looking over at the clock on her wall and seeing that several hours had passed. She gave a small yawn, and got out of bed.
She made her way out of her room and down the hall, entering Granny’s room. She opened the closet and reached in, pulling out a small chest with a lock.
Good, it’s still here… she thought.
She had only ever seen her grandmother with the chest a few times, but had never seen what was inside. She assumed that it had to be something valuable to Granny if she had kept it hidden. She knew that if the Novas came back to their homestead, they’d ransack it and loot it for all it was worth, and she wasn’t going to let it happen to something that was important to her grandmother. She stood up and trotted over to Granny’s nightstand, opening the drawer and finding a simple key within. She grabbed it, and moved to the chest again, unlocking it and opening it.
Within the chest sat a bandolier and two silver revolvers, furnished with ivory and abalone grips. They were a bit older than what was common nowadays, seeing as the Minotaur arms market had flooded all of its neighboring countries with newer weaponry in the wake of increased tensions between the Yaks and Gryphons, but these two revolvers looked to be in excellent condition. She picked them up, the grips feeling surprisingly comfortable, as if they were molded for her hooves.
She grabbed the bandolier and wrapped it around her waist, tying it tight. She grabbed each gun as well as the box of ammunition within, taking the time to load each revolver with six rounds each, adding the spares to her bandolier. Once done, she slid the twin revolvers into the holsters, feeling their weight at her hips. In a strange way, they gave her a feeling of familiarity and comfort. She checked the small chest, smirking when she saw the engraving on the lid.
“‘Ribston Pippin Apple…’ No wonder these feel right...” Applejack read aloud, feeling a sense of nostalgia at hearing her father’s name. “No time for nostalgia. I gotta get movin’,” she said to herself, shutting the chest and pushing it back into the closet. She quickly moved back out of Granny’s room and into her own, putting on a plain white t-shirt and slipping on a black vest. She slid a pair of jeans up to her hips, disguising her cutie mark from any onlookers. She reached into her drawers, pulling out a bright red bandanna. She smiled as she tied it around her neck. “Now I’ve got a bit of ma with me too,” she said to herself. She then took her brown Stetson off, leaving it on her bed and going into her closet, pulling out a black leather Stetson and putting it on.
She made her way downstairs, loaded up her saddlebags with the essentials; bits, water, and canned food. She grabbed a piece of parchment and a pen, scribbling down a note and leaving it on the table for Granny to read. She took her keys, exited the homestead and locked the door behind her, making her way down the trail. When she reached the archway that served as the entrance to the farm, she looked back.
“Don’t you worry ma n’ pa…” Applejack said firmly. “I’m gettin’ Apple Bloom back. Come hell or high water, I’m bringin’ her back. All I can ask is you guide me to her, and I’ll do the rest...” she said, turning away and leaving Sweet Apple Acres behind her.
A train ride and several hours later, Applejack stepped off the train to Appleloosa, feeling the warm sand beneath her hooves. She had arrived on the last train for the night, the moon hanging picturesquely in the night sky. She checked her watch, showing that it was just after midnight. She looked around, seeing that only a few buildings still had their lights on; the local bar, the clinic and a hotel. She decided that she had earned a drink or two, and made for the bar.
She entered the bar, seeing several ponies lingering around, some playing cards and smoking cigars, the barkeep nodding in her direction and acknowledging her.
“What’ll ya have?” the barkeep asked.
“Whiskey n’ rye, thanks,” Applejack said plainly, taking a seat in front of the bar. The barkeep nodded, retrieving a glass and pouring the dark brown liquid into it. He then slid the glass over to her, and went to attend to another patron.
She raised the glass to her lips and took a swig, feeling the liquid burn like fire down her throat but settle into a gentle warmth in her belly. That’s the stuff… she thought, closing her eyes and exhaling. She thought about the day’s events, wondering and hoping against hope that Apple Bloom was safe. She took another drink of her whiskey when she felt two ponies sit on both sides of her. She peered out of the corner of her eyes and saw the familiar red of the Nova gang on their jackets and immediately reached for her guns, but froze when she felt cold steel push against her ribcage.
“Don’t even think about it…” one pony growled in a deep, masculine voice.
“You’re comin’ with us,” the other responded threateningly. Applejack calmly placed a few bits on the bar, and allowed the stallions to lead her out. They lead her outside and around the back of the bar, where one of the stallions proceeded to punch her in the jaw, knocking her back.
“You think you can kill our colts and get away with it?!” the stallion yelled, planting a hoof in her gut. He then laughed at her shocked reaction. “Oh yeah, we know all about it. See, when our guys didn’t come back after they went to see you, we went sniffin’ around. We found their bodies, you bitch, and now you’re gonna pay!” he yelled, driving a hoof into her side.
“You’re gonna die for this! First you, then the old bitch back at the house, and then we’re gonna break your little sister!” the other stallion laughed, kicking her in the ribs. Applejack grit her teeth and attempted to crawl away, but the stallions were on her faster than she could react.
“Where the fuck do you think you’re goin’?” one stallion yelled, planting another hoof in her side. They continue to beat her, the two hefting her up and slamming her against the nearby wall of the bar. She could taste blood, the lining of her cheek having been cut from when he struck her and the scent of copper filling her nostrils. She was certain he had busted her snout, but that was the least of her problems.
“You think we should have fun with her before we kill her? She’s pretty hot, don’tcha think?” one stallion said.
“Sure, it don’t matter to the boss anyway,” the other stallion said. Applejack took this chance to throw her head forward and headbutt the stallion holding her down right in the teeth, cutting her forehead but freeing herself.
Fuck that hurt! she thought, gritting her teeth through the pain.
“You fuckin—” the stallion yelled out as he stumbled back. Applejack quickly drew her right revolver and put two in his chest.
Unfortunately, his partner was armed, and before Applejack could round on him, his gun was already out and aimed at her. She attempted to fire on him, but he beat her to it. He pulled the trigger and Applejack felt a searing pain erupt through her body as her vision faded, collapsing against the wall of the bar. As she went down, her own gun went off, the bullet grazing his cheek and taking the tip of his ear off. She twitched a few times and fell still.
“Bitch…” the stallion sneered, gripping his face as he spat on her body. He shook his head and grabbed a nearby shovel that the bar owner had left outside to use for the outhouse, digging a shallow grave and tossing her in. He shoveled a few scoops of dirt on her and left, carrying the body of his fallen buddy on his back.
It wasn’t until a few hours later that a singular orange hoof emerged from the dirt. Applejack sat up, moving her good hoof over to the hole in her shoulder, feeling blood still slowly seeping from it. She slowly made her way out of the hole, clambering to her hooves. She picked up her gun and reholstered it, limping her way for the clinic.
I’m gonna find you… and when I do… I’m sendin’ yer ass straight to hell.
