Big Mac, with a Marshal and a bounty hunter, travels across the West as he looks to save his little sister, learning about his family past along the way.
After the kidnapping of Applejack on a visit back to Appaloosa, Big Macintosh gets the help of Marshal Cornfield and even a feared, outlawed bounty hunter, on a journey across the western hell that is the San Palomino desert for the search of his little sister. Along the way, Big Mac obtains the skills of a gunslinger crucial for his survival and learns secrets about his family's past.
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Apples. The mushy remains of apples, along with those unharmed, were splattered and rolling all over the dirt, mixing along with blood slicking around like a rattlesnake. She knew they should of stayed waited on the train after it broke down, but she didn’t want to waste anymore time, being only 5 more miles from Appaloosa. Applejack really wished her big brother could have came with her, but he had to stay at the farm to take care of Granny Smith and Apple Bloom, of course. She stiffly turned her head to look around her, implanted on the ground. Peachy Sweet and Golden Delicious were dead, except Apple Fritter, who was whimpering as she writhed on the ground. Applejack made an effort to crawl towards her, until she felt the barrel of a rifle touch her back.
“Not a muscle, sweetheart.” warned a grave voice. She felt the dirt shift as a stallion kneeled down beside her. “Mother of Celestia, ain’t you one?”
Applejack didn’t flinch as the unseen stallion stroked his hoof from her blonde mane all the way to her cutie mark.
“Celerity!” called a more smoother voice. “Any of them still alive?”
“Yes, sire-eee.” chuckled Celerity. “Take a look at this ‘un!”
Applejack attempted again to try to get up. Without hesitation, the stallion firmly pushed her back down with the butt of the gun.
“I said stay down! Stupid bitch.” muttered Celerity.
“We-he-he-he-hell, she is quite a pretty filly.” the other pony said. “The other three dead?”
“Sure those two are, I shot them in the head.”
“Great, now that takes away 2,000 bits from what we could’a been paid...”
“Hey, that green-haired one seems live. Could definitely get a bargain from the Gristles with sugar apple over here, though.”
“‘S not only looks they look for, you know. What do you see in this one?”
“Ah know, not only that. You see those legs, she looks like she’s been buckin’ apples her whole life.”
“Implying they own an apple farm.”
“Who, the Gristles or this one?”
“The Gristles.”
“Oh - well they don’t. What I mean is, she certainly looks like a hard worker.” Celerity turned AJ on her back. She looked up to see an Earth pony and a unicorn standing over her, one wearing a slouch hat and the unicorn wearing the usual cowcolt hat, both wearing a bandana over their mouths. The sun shining bright above their heads made it impossible to identify them. “You’re a hard worker? Are ya?”
In response, she spit on his eye.
Reflexively, he smacked her on the cheek with his rifle and fell back with the force of the swing.
“SHIT!”, he got back up and pinned AJ down again with his gun. “Listen here, honey. For a while I hoped when you’d be sold like the little fucking pet you will be, you would be treated with luxury and sweetness. But just for that, I will tell you right now. You will suffer, you will be chained to a wall and be whipped until the sun sets and you will be branded with a sign over that cutie mark you have. You - will - live - in agonizing pain.”
“Calm down, Celerity.” The calm stallion sighed. “She can’t even see or hear straight right now. And c’mon, we’ve fooled around long enough standing in the middle of nowhere, chain them up and put ‘em on the wagon. We’ll need to head back home before dusk, then we’ll get to selling these ponies tomorrow.”
Celerity continued to stare into AJ’s face.
“Well,” he snickered. “You heard Legerity, time for the four of us to get movin’. And soon you’ll see your new happy home! Heh heh heh...” The stallion then began the drag Applejack by her two hind legs as Legerity did so to Apple Fritter.
Marshal Cornfield looked across the seemingly endless acres of apple trees. The thought of only two ponies bucking through each and every one of them seemed impractical. He had a pleasant time walking himself over through Ponyville, most notably being enthusiastically greeted by that pink pony who seemed as if she had a sixth sense for spotting anypony new at an instant.
“Sweet Apple Acres...” the marshal muttered through the cigarette in his mouth as he panned his head over to what looked like to be a barn.
Cornfield was on his way to knock on the door of the two-story house standing at the other side of the land until he saw a red, cumbersome-looking stallion pushing a bay of hale out the side of the barn.
“Excuse me, young stallion.” he called out as he approached. “You must be Big Macintosh? Your cousin, Braeburn, told me you were the one to talk to in this part of the Apple Family.”
Big Mac gave a quick glance to Cornfield but continued with moving the hay.
“Eeyup,” He responded. The marshall then followed suit.
“He also mentioned a grandmother that you have, and t-.... one sister living here?”
“They’re at the marketplace.”
“Not a pony of much words, ain’t ya?”
“Nope.”
“... Well look, Mr. Macintosh, it’s not like I traveled across the desert so we can converse about bunnies, I know you know well the exact reason why I came here.”
Mac sighed and turned to look back at Cornfield. “We’ll talk...” He ceased aimlessly pushing the hay and trudged back to the house.
They then both walked inside the house. When inside, Mac gestured Cornfield to sit on a purple couch by the front window.
“Would you like a smoke?” offered Cornfield. As he expected, he simply said “Nope” again and shook his head.
“Anyways, um.” The marshall paused for moment to brood over what he’d say. “About your sister, the older one... we know she, along with the other Apple relatives, have been attacked, or ambushed not far away from Appleloosa by possibly a gang or whatsoever. Why they were just in the desert, I don’t exactly know. Apparently, when the train they were riding on broke down, they might have just decided to hike for it.”
Big Mac glanced back a look of grief.
“Yes.” answering his stare. “I’m not done yet, though. When site was found, there’re only two bodies dead. One, a greenish-yellow colored mare, and the other, a brown stallion. Both, Earth ponies. And well, they were - shot right in the head.”
“Peachy Sweet... and Golden Delicious.” Mac recalled with the same face.
“Those were their names, huh? In spite of that, however, of course, it could have meant your sister, Applejack and this other pony, is still alive.”
This time, a small feeling of optimism grew on Big Mac’s face.
“That, though, is part of the bad news. She is still missing. And we have an idea of what happened to her. She and the other pony may have been abducted. To be sold, as slaves, that is. A couple of infamous gangs, clans or posses have formed ever since towns like Appleloosa or Dodge Junction were established, all of them known for kidnapping random ponies. There is one group whom we’re sure is holding them captive, however, and they’re named the Gristle Brothers. Why them, through an informant, is that they buy other ponies from whoever works for them so they can get a cheap amount of bits. We know that, but we’re unaware of is where these slaves are sent.”
Cornfield held his tongue to wait for Mac to say something back, but he continued his stare.
“Well, Mr. Macintosh. It has been nice strolling in Ponyville,” he said as he stood up. “but I must head on over back to the West to abide with the-”
“I’m coming with you.” Mac interrupted.
The marshal chuckled back, for he thought he was joking.
“To stay at Appleloosa? Mr. Macintosh, please, I’ve only come here to deliver you news, for the Apple Family.”
Mac straightened up his body and marched over to Cornfield, until they both faced each other at eye level.
“I mean, to help you look for my sister.”
The smile quickly dropped down from the blue Earth pony’s face.
“Son, I admire your audacity. But you still have a grandma and a sis’ to tend to.”
“AJ has friends who can do that.”
“There’s one particular part you don’t get about this, Mr. Macintosh.” Cornfield grimaced. “When you’ll help me, you, of course, are putting your own life at risk. Imagine what would happen AJ finally fell into the safety of a group of Mild West marshals, to then find out her big brother was killed on the way?”
Without a doubt, his plea didn’t affect Mac at all, he still maintained the stare he has been keeping up for the past few minutes.
“You, also don’t understand one ‘particular’ thing, marshal... Applejack is family, my loving sister since we were foals... Not because one thing sounds too chancy, will I not leave her side... Even if we have to step hoof on every speck of dirt on the Mild West.”
Cornfield smiled back at Mac, but now with high respect. For somepony to have true determination and grit was certainly something that he hasn’t seen for a while.
“Well now. Pack your things quick, the train back to Appleloosa will be leaving in about twenty minutes.”
The train back to Appleloosa made its destination as it ground against the rusty rails by the station. The somewhat familiar wave of heat hit Mac as he stepped out of the passenger car along with Marshal Cornfield. In addition, he’s noticed that the town has grown considerably larger than the last time he’s visited.
“How about we breeze in The Salt Block for now, drink up a few glasses." Cornfield asked, to which Mac nodded in agreement. "There, we can discuss what we’re getting into.” Cornfield asked, to which Mac nodded in agreement."
“Marshal!”, sputtered a staggering pony as it tripped out the entrance of The Salt Block. “Speh me a foo bitch so ah can ha’ a drink?”
“Have another, and you’ll end up with your head up your ass, Salty.”
“My ass?! My ass, Marshal, who duh ya thin yer talkin’ to?”
“A drunkard fool, is what.” Cornfield shot back. “Now lay down somewhere else other than my hooves or I’ll throw you in the cell just for acting so damn moronic.”
Salty impetuously wobbled away muttering obscure and vague words.
“You haven’t an idea of how much the other officers deal with that buffoon. After you.” he said as he opened the saloon doors for Mac.
Business in The Salt Block was surprisingly slow for the time of the day. Few ponies were sitting in the tables spread across the creaky wooden planks, with ragtime piano music being the only thing that filled the silence.
“Morton!” Cornfield exclaimed. “Dirty up two glasses with some whiskey, if you will.”
“Those will be on me, marshal.” a unicorn insisted as he approached the two from the other side of the room. “Least I could do.”
“Why, that’s a nice gesture, Legerity.” he greeted.
“Who’s the silent fellow sitting next to ya?”
“Him? This is Big Macintosh from Ponyville. He wanted and insisted to help me on hunting down the slavers that have been traveling around the Mild West. That, and finding his sister. Is that right?”
Mac nodded his head without looking.
“Well, uh. That sounds nice.” Legerity said uncomfortably as he began to walk away. “Good luck and see you around. If you see my brother, tell him I need to see him asap, please.”
“What a shame." said Cornfield. "He sounded like he wanted to have a drink with us at first.”
“Maybe he is one of them...” Big Mac suggested.
“May be, but I’d have high doubts on that. I knew him and his brother since they grew up. Fast gunslingers, they are, too. More skilled than most of the officers around this town, even. I’m going off topic, am I?”
“Yup.”
“Ah, anyways. On the other hand, I usually did have a feeling they had a double life, always leaving town together, saying they’d either ‘go out huntin’’ or ‘to Dodge Junction’. Damn, you know what, I should’ve stopped him.”
A long-faced, slim Earth pony slid two glasses of whiskey on the bar in front of them.
“There you go, gentlecolts.” Morton said.
“Much obliged, Mr. Saltworthy.” Cornfield thanked as he carried the glass cup with his hoof and held it to Mac, as he done so. One waited for the other to announce who they would devote the drink to, but neither said anything.
“Ok then.” The marshal said when he gulped up the drink at last.
“WHOO!” he cheered when he felt the spirits kick in. “I needed that.”
“Tell me what’s this about the plan, now.” Mac urged after downing his whiskey.
“Sheriff Silverstar had me assemble a posse, or task force, if you will, mainly from the law from both Appleloosa and Dodge Junction, trying to stop this slaving crisis. Split into groups of two, we will make our way into what we’ve yet to have seen into the wilderness of the West. Since the town was founded, we have all been stringent about keeping it safe exclusively within borders, especially after that huge conflict we had with those dirty buffalo not too long ago. When we will rendezvous, well, is up to one of the groups when they get their job done.
“And I can’t believe I almost forgot, can you handle a gun?”
“I would have some practice with this...” Mac reached into his satchel to reveal a revolver with an extended barrel. Engraved onto its grip, were three red apples forming a triangular formation. “No one knew, though.”
“That is something.” Cornfield whistled in appreciation. “But just saying words won’t convince me. I’ll set up some bottles outside. See if you really can shoot.”
Outside the back of the Sheriff’s office, six glass bottles were lined up across a wooden table. Both the Marshal and Mac faced the table onward to the spare land of the West.
“Anyways,” said Cornfield. “Basically, just shoot the bottles, stand further away, of course... No, scratch that. Let’s make this a small competition. Whoever shoots their three of the bottles first wins. Understood?”
“Eeyup.”
“Alright then.” Cornfield echoed as he removed his own gun from his holster. “Three... t-”
“Two one.” Mac quickly muffled through his mouth.
In less than 2 seconds, he fired upon the three bottles on his side of the table with three shots, causing each individual one to explode into pieces.
“.....One.” He finished with distemper. “Come now, Mr. Mac, you hardly let me get to one. And what, you actually fire with a gun in your mouth?”
“I thought that was normal.”
“It is not, whatever you think. You can stand on your two hind legs, put your hoofs on the trigger and the hammer. Plus, you don’t mess up your teeth and it’s easier to aim, in a way. The only thing about it, is that you have to remain in one place.”
“Such a burden to be a triggerpony if you’re an Earth Pony, isn’t it?”, crowed a concealed voice leaning under the shadows of another building adjacent to the saloon.
“Horn Siringo.” Cornfield addressed as he directed his gun in the voice’s direction. “How long have you been watching us? I thought Sheriff Silverstar told you to never come to town unless you bring a fugitive. You do remember that incident, right?”
“Yes, yes, I still remember, Marshal.” Horn answered as he stepped out from the shadows, displaying himself as a unicorn wearing an untidy cape, contrasting the neat mane he bared. “‘Accidentally’ killed an innocent buffalo, blood spraying all over your face and other bystanders, I remember.” Horn noticed the puzzled look of Mac.
“I’ve never seen you before, I’ll save the time and just tell you I’m a bounty hunter.”
“We put a bounty on a chosen criminal, for him or people of his type to chase down to bring them back dead.” Cornfield explained for Horn.
“That or they aren’t, the bigger the reward.”
“Some time ago, we tried to secretly have a buffalo related to Chief Thunderhooves killed. Mr. Siringo, Celestia knows why, mistook a random buffalo for him and shot it right in front of my eyes in the saloon. We were very lucky there wasn’t another controversy over that. Now, Mr. Siringo, I’d like you to go on out of here or you’ll wish that bullet you fired make a u-turn back to your brain.”
“No worries, Marshal. But expect me to see you tomorrow, I know what’s going on. Have a nice day!” He hollered as he rode himself away.
“Eh, he won’t be able to catch us.” Cornfield grumbled as he stared at Horn, who disappeared into the horizon. The Marshal put his gun back into his holster. “We’ll be a few miles away from town as soon as the sun will make the day wholly bright.”
“So how exactly will we go about?”
“Well, like I’ve said before, knowledge of what’s beyond the West is vague, and by that I meant we would only know of a couple landmarks. But ponies like bounty hunters who have explored far seen some houses or plantations, spread far apart, of course. Us, we will visit each and every one of those places for any hint of the such. And don’t you worry, Mr. Mac, if you help us do that, I will take you to rescue your sister.”
Then in a sudden motion, Cornfield kicked a glass bottle high into the air. Just as he tried to reach back into his holster, the bottle exploded in a flash.
“You have got to be kidding me.” He squinted at Mac. “I even thought I caught you off guard with that last sentence.”
“That wasn’t me.”
“Do not joke with me, Mr. Mac.”
As Mac continued to stare back, they both heard a laugh coming from the direction where Horn last headed.
“That's how good you can be if you are a unicorn!” the whooping voice echoed to them.
“Dammit, Horn, I said get out of here!” He blared back, clearly frustrated. After a pause, he cleared his throat. “Uh, sorry, I was in a bit of rage there. Say, let’s go back into the saloon?”
The Marshal and Mac stepped back into The Salt Block. They stopped as they happened to find an Earth Pony that significantly stood out, sitting by himself at the bar.
To the Marshal, it was because it happened to be Legerity’s twin, Celerity.
For Mac’s part, it was because he was donning Applejack’s trademark hat. Sure, it looked just like a regular hat to the regular pony, but it was seeing it every day in Ponyville that made him recognize it like so.
“It’s him.” He murmured to Cornfield. “He has her hat, too.”
“Her?”
“AJ.”
“Ay-jay? I don’- oh, her, okay. Follow my lead on this one.”
Celerity sat absentminded on the stool, staring into nothingness as if he was completely isolated from the rest of the world. He flinched when he turned around to see the Marshal trot his way with an obviously mock smile on his face.
“If it isn’t one of the fastest gunslingers in the Mild.” Cornfield said. “What’ve you been up to? You know I haven’t seen you in tortoise’s age.”
“Fuckin’...” Celerity whispered before he cleared his throat. “Err, yer know, Marshal. Huntin an’ stuff, what I usually tell you.”
“I like your hat.” Mac blurted out.
“Uh yes, what this good stallion said, Celerity. That is a nice hat, where’d you get it? I don’t believe those kinds are sold here, mostly bowlers, top hats and homburgs.”
“Then I got it from Dodge. Wait, I m-”
“Then?” Cornfield repeated.
“No, I-”
“Does ‘Dodge’ mean ‘stole it from a mare named Applejack’.” Mac asked.
“So that’s what her name wa-FUCK!”
“Boy, you have a really bad way with words, don’t you?” Cornfield chuckled as he started to hold Celerity’s face into the bar. “Come now, Celerity, don’t think I never act suspicious of what you and your brother are up to.”
“I said it’s just going in and out of Dodge, Marshal!” He stuttered nervously.
“Literally five seconds ago, you stated it was hunting. Celerity, hoof me your satchel. Mr. Mac here would like a look in it. And give him your hat. And I want to hold your gun for a minute.”
In a huff, Celerity hastily gave his satchel and revolver to Mac to have AJ’s hat snatched from above his mane.
“Okay, okay. There it is! What it is that you want? Do you want money, are you tryin’ to blackmail me?!”
“Dammit, hush. Give him a second to look.”
Mac snatched the satchel and then quickly flipped it over upside-down and emptied the whole thing on the floor. Falling from the leather bag, was a sack of bits, a silver pocket watch, but more notably above all, a whip.
“You either have strange fantasies or there’s something else, son.” Cornfield bantered as he bit onto the whip and tugged onto one of Celerity’s front legs. “Mr. Mac, help me carry this fine stallion out the saloon.”
They both chucked Celerity out the saloon doors a few feet far. Making contact with the ground he landed on his back, knocking the air out of him for a moment. Cornfield trotted over to him to stomp on his hind leg, tossing over the whip to Mac with his mouth.
“Mr. Macintosh, you may have the honor.”
“My pleasure.” Mac withdrew his head, and with all his might, he lashed at Celerity with the sharp, leather tails, making the pinned pony release an atrocious scream.
“It must hurt being on the other side, don’t it? If you don’t want to get snapped again, I suggest you should actually start talking.”
“I ain’t saying sheeit about anything of it, Marshal.” Celerity growled. “Heck, now that I think of it, I woulda had my way with that bitch if it wasn’t for Legerity wanting to sell them so quick!”
Mac erupted with a loud snort, almost startling Cornfield. The Marshal shrugged and stepped off the Swift brother.
“I’m not stopping you.”
Mac went on a full-on rage on Celerity, lash after thrash. If the victim tried to turn his body over to take the pain on his back, he would quickly shift to the other side to continue with the punishment.
“I don’t know if you got the message, Celerity,” Cornfield hollered over the crying, “But this red stallion whipping your flank is the big, loving brother of that mare you and your brother kidnapped. Alright now, Mr. Mac, you’ve had enough fun with the poor colt.”
He kneeled over to the recoiling pony.
“About now, I know what you’re thinkin’. That, being is that we will try to shoot your brother to heaven to save Applejack. But, I know if we were to do that, you wouldn’t feel too happy about it, just as much as Mr. Mac wouldn’t enjoy how his sis is doing. So if you don’t want that, I want you to take us to Legerity.”
“Not likely, Marshal Corn-Field! Because of the commotion we started, s’likely he’s fled to a train to Dodge right now to the homestead we live in.”
“And where is that supposed to be?”
“You’d have to go travel long ways south of there until you find some hulking rocks with a tree on top. Y’know, it’d be simpler if you had me take you there.”
“No, don’t trust you enough. You’ll might lure us into a trap, which might happen anyways, but I don’t give a damn because you annoy me. Mac, whip him again.”
Mac positioned his body to attack Celerity once again, making the latter flinch and scream once more.
“Ah ah! I didn’t really mean it this time! Now help me carry him to Silverstar’s office. About time for us to get a rest after this long day.”
The sun was barely giving a peek over the horizon of the Mild West, giving off a slight red hue across the landscape. The only ponies seen awake above everypony else was a group of marshals just outside the Sheriff’s office, socializing with each other like the shiny badges that seemed to brag whichever was the most radiant.
“Rise and shine, Mr. Mac.” Cornfield monotonously cheered as he forcibly bucked open Mac’s hotel room door, oblivious to scaring him out of bed. “I suppose you’re already used to waking up this early? You are one of those farming ponies, after all.”
“I’ve waken up earlier times. But nope.” Mac groaned as he carried himself up.
“Well, get dressed with whatever you need to put on. There’s other stallions I’d like to introduce ya to, as well as some equipment.”
As soon as they exited out the hotel, two marshals came their way carrying a lassoed pony with his head covered, chucking him at their hooves.
“This obscure bag over my head is a bit much, don’t you fellas think?” The stallion muffled through the mask with contempt.
“Aw shaddup!” One of the marshals kicked.
“Dammit, Dumpling and Stone. Who is this pony and what’re you doing with him?”
“Cornfield, this is Siringo, that bounty hunter.” said the less oafish marshal. “We found him just hanging around the train station!”
“You sure are relentless, son.” He squat down to uncover Horn’s face. “You two dumbbells go back to Silverstar’s. The three of us have to talk.”
“Well thanks for that, Marshal. I thought those two would get a little more intimate tying me up like this.”
“Siringo, just tell me what in Equestria you want. Yesterday, you said you ‘know what’s going on’, and coming deep into town like that pretty much explains it.”
“Remind me again first, Marshal. How high is the bounty placed on me? It’s somewhere in the thousands.”
“Seven thousand...” Cornfield sighed.
“See, that’s a pretty high reward for killing someone. Strange how nopony has ever really dared to even lay a hoof on me, though. You can understand what it’s like.”
“What are you getting at?”
“Well, there’s no way I can afford to pay it off, even with all the other bounties I’ve earned. So I was thinking it could be lifted off my shoulders if I helped along.”
“And what do you even think you want to help us with?”
“Your folks at Dodge told me that you formed some group to put a stop to this slaving crisis that’s been going on. Also, I’d like to know why the stallion behind you has been following you around everywhere.”
“Two ponies got my little sister - and sold her.” Mac answered. “But I dunno to who exactly.”
“I promised that I’d take him, Mr. Mac that is, with me until he sees that she is free.”
“Alright, then. Here’s my compr- hold on, why am I still tied up? Untie me right now, Marshal.”
“Not until you finish your ‘compromise’, son.”
“Dammit, stop calling me your ‘son’, I’m only about ten years younger than you.” Horn retorted. “I’d see that my deal is similar to yours with Mac here: I will travel with you two and your posse, and in the meantime, I must not desert the group under any circumstances. This will continue until Mac’s sister is no longer under the chains of slavery, does that sound peachy enough? Undo me now, for shit’s sake!”
“That sounds like a deal.” Cornfield almost cracked a smile as he began to cut the ropes tying Horn. “I actually needed you for another reason, anyways.”
“What for?”
“You’re one of the few ponies who legitimately know the region of the West in its entirety, that’s why. And I was going to offer to remove your bounty after I’d come across you in the meantime.”
“There goes my corny-like speech, then.” Horn said as he stood up to shake hooves with the marshal.
“At least you speak more than Mr. Mac here. Gee, I’ve only heard you speak a grand total of thirty words since we arrived back yesterday.” Cornfield directed at Mac, who only shrugged.
“Still however, I see more courage in him than you. Wait for us back at the train station, we got more stuff to take care of at the moment.”
“Fellow officers,” Cornfield greeted as he approached the virtuous group of lawful ponies. “This is Big Macintosh, from Ponyville, and what I see as the only pony gallant enough to volunteer on this suicidal mission. Mac, these are Marshals Stone, Star, Song and Dumpling. Don’t let their ‘astonishing’ beards get the better of you.”
“You just envious because a mustache is the most you can grow.” Marshal Stone cracked. “What’d you do with the bounty hunter, anyways?”
“Uh, I’ll tell you men in a moment before we will be leaving. I have a couple of presents to give.”
…......
Cornfield swung open the metal cage doors to a weapon rack mounted on the wall. Only two guns were seen hanging onto its wooden hooks.
“These two little killing tools,” he noted as he held one weapon in each hoof. “are a lever-action rifle, and this, a double-barreled shotgun. Both, I’m giving to you.”
He laid down the shotgun, now carrying the repeater with his front hooves.
“Though this baby kicks like an apple bucker, it’s foal’s play for anypony to fire this, even if you don’t have any magic to use it.” He said as he pulled the lever down and up.
“I don’t feel like I should even explain the double. You just have to know you can blow someone a hundred miles back if you’re close enough. Maybe I can test it on Celerity right now while he’s asleep.”
“Go fuck yourself, Marshal.” countered a raucous voice from a cell at the back of the room.
“Oh, you know you ain’t worth a rat’s ass anymore, just wait for the day your brother shares that cell with you and you wait your punishment.”
“Wait, there’s something I’d like to ask my whip buddy. Mac, that’s it.”
Big Mac stepped up close to Celerity, until the only space between them was filled by a metal bar.
“Tell me, Mac. When you find your sister... will you fuck her? Cause, I mean, that’s all what you farming ponies are good fo-”
His speaking came to a quick halt when Mac slipped his hooves around Celerity’s neck to vigorously slam his face against the dense, metal bars, leaving a large cut on his snout.
“Ohoho, brother!” He laughed, laying flat on the wooden floor. “You wish you could unleash your worst on me this second. It seems I always know how to push the right buttons!”
“Mac, don’t take the piss from him.” Cornfield implored as he restrained him from getting any closer. “He will get what’s coming to him. For now, we can just focus on the target as of now.”
Without a single word, Mac snorted and stomped his way out the room, taking his two guns with him. The marshal briskly followed him, only giving Celerity a quick, stern look before exiting the door.
…......
“Mac, go and get Horn over here, I need to show him a map.” Cornfield tried to call to him as he continued to march away.
“Cornfield, you were saying about the bounty hunter joining us?”
“Ah, uh yes, Stone. Wouldn’t want to repeat myself, but he’s one of the only ponies to know all of the San Palomino desert region, so I decided to let him help us too. In return, I also agreed to remove the high bounty placed on him.”
“I still don’t trust that crook.” grumbled Marshal Star. “What if he shoots any of us in the back while we’re at it?”
Cornfield raised an eyebrow at Star with a slight grimace.
“That - was an accident.”
“Okay, Marshal. What did you need to show me?” Horn reported as he trotted over to them.
“Wait... why didn’t Mac come back with you?”
“I don’t know. I saw he looked pretty damn rustled about something, that’s for sure.”
“Yes, that Celerity boy just verbally pulled his tail is all. Anyways,” He pulled out a folded piece of dirtied paper and arranged it on the ground. “You know all about the West? Point out to me the whereabouts of the Gristle Brothers’ plantation. Showing me where the Swift twins reside can also help us, as that’s our first destination.”
“Okay, uhh...” Horn glared down at the map with a dumbfounded look.
“I... I can’t read.”
“Are you shittin-... ok, well you can see shapes, can you?!”
“Yes?”
“Then, use that to show me! I can just tell you the word if you ask.”
“Ok, ok! So there’s that gigantic mountain to the west of...”
“...Appleloosa, the town we are standing in.”
“Yes, Appleloosa. You’ll have to keep following the river around it south, until you reach the end. But between that are about two outposts several miles apart, as well as a farm halfway down, just by...”
“Macintosh Hills. Go on.”
“One thing about the farm, the ponies there are very forbidding of passersby. They’re not afraid of even me to shoot me down if they want to. And about the Swift twins’ house? It is south of Dodge city, but south enough to be several miles away from the Badlands borders.”
“Well now. That’s certainly useful info, no sarcasm used.” He folded the map back up and looked back at the marshals. “Y’know what, I think I’m only taking Mr. Siringo and Mac along with me to Dodge. Expect the other marshals from there to come in and we’ll be back at the right end of the day.”
Cornfield and Horn came back to the train station to find Mac sitting by himself on the bench. The look of frustration on his face was now replaced with worry, as how he’s mostly looked since he’s left Ponyville.
“Mr. Mac, are you feeling alright now? It’ll just be the three of us who’ll be paying a visit to Legerity.”
He sighed in response and stood up to look back at the two.”
“Eeyup. Just thinking about what AJ has gone through.”
Applejack faintly opened her eyes to look up at Legerity. She found herself and Apple Fritter cramped and chained together in the corner of a dimly lit room, with only daylight coming from small crevices in the walls.
Neither of them had any specific recollection of arriving wherever they were other than the ill-fated encounter they had the day before. From that point on, the two mares had to endure the scorching heat of the sun and unforgiving thirst and starvation.
“You should know, we’re all only a fifth a ways down to the Gristle Brothers’ plantation. We’re at an outpost just a few miles from the end of Ghastly Gorge.”
Legerity continued glooming down on the two, until a hint of sympathy turned up on his face.
“Look here,” he started as he closed the door behind him. “You both are already lucky enough that I had to wake you fillies up. Celerity woulda probably just kicked you until you were forced back into the nightmare you slept into, but he’s by the river getting water. Now this time, I’m afraid you’ll have to travel with us - on your hooves. One other thing to that, is that Celerity has a whip that he carries in his little purse, and if you don’t listen to him, he will beat your asses to death with it. And this will seems queer coming from me, but even I can’t stand him doing that to a mare. So just do whatever he commands and I swear to Celestia he won’t completely kill you.”
“They are awake and certainly well, Celerity.” He called as he dragged the mares from the small log house. “About time to hit the trail.”
“A-Applejack...” whispered Apple Fritter. She had spoken for the first time since the train ride. “W-what’re we gon’ do?”
Applejack didn’t have to be a genius to know that she couldn’t answer any question thrown at her.
“I don’t know.”
Legerity quickly turned back with a raised eyebrow.
“Well fuck me, you two do have a voice.”
For constantly being berated by the two stallions, most importantly having to march across the hot desert against her will, Applejack finally decided to speak up.
“Ya know? Yeas, we do.” she sassed back, staring dead-on towards the unicorn’s direction. “Bevil me all ya want, I ain’t gonna have it no more.”
She had finished her miniature rant when Celerity just came back with two jugs water carried on his back.
“Oh what, are ya trying to heckle Legerity, now? Think you can just speak out like that?”
“Celerity, simmer down.” He ordered, holding him back with his front leg while keeping eye contact with Applejack. “She was just talking to me.”
“Pff, you and your soft-ass nagga boo boo pants. It’s still an excuse for me to pummel her.”
Celerity tried to shove his brother aside, but unsuccessfully missed by a few inches, giving Legerity an opportunity to throw a punch on his eye, sending him into the dirt. The two jugs of water he carried landed along with him without a splash.
“I said, simmer down, for shit’s sakes. Now get the hell up, we probably woke up the folks back inside with it being this early.”
“Hoorawed by a little filly...” he muttered, picking the water back up and leading the way south of the river.
Three days later, about a day away from the Gristle Brothers’ plantation
Pitch-black darkness spread in every visible direction as the moonlight shined past the clouds. The only glow seen for miles through the thin mist was that of a lantern revealing the four ponies. For Applejack, she has already conformed to the rough conditions to the point where she stayed just as alert as the stallions who kidnapped them, unlike Apple Fritter, who seemed overworked beyond recovery.
“Shhh...” Legerity signaled, holding his hoof up. “You all hear that?”
“The only shit I hear is the river flowing and our hooves kicking the dirt.” replied his confused brother.
“No, no...” He slowly turned his head 180 degrees, with Celerity following suit. “You see that? That’s a light being held by somepony. We’re being followed.”
Celerity quickly grabbed Apple Fritter and covered her mouth, while he held his revolver against Applejack’s face. “Cry for help, you worthless wench, and I will put a bullet through her eyes.”
Without a second guess, Legerity dropped the lantern and fired his gun towards the pursuer’s direction.
“Stay quiet again...”
Unexpectedly, a bullet whizzed by, striking the dirt just beside Celerity’s hooves.
“AARRGH, FUCK ME!” He shouted in shock, falling on his back.
“Well - we would’ve stayed quiet, but he might have thought he hit us. We’re going to sit here and wait for whoever it is. And make sure they don’t make a sound, too.”
Everyone except Legerity sat down as the distant light hovered closer. Less than half an hour passed by until Applejack broke the silence.
“Y’all want to sing a song?” The mare suddenly said.
“Nah, it’s oka- wha-, who’s that speaking?! Whoever it is, shut the hell up!”
“Dang it, Celerity.” She taunted, moving to a different spot.
“Ok, whoever’s talking’s obviously one of you fillies, ‘cause I know to fuck that isn’t a stallion speaking.”
“How about you just shut it yourself?” Legerity ordered.
“Hey, you just asked for it this time, you dumb bitch!
“Ow! Gah dammit, Celerity, that was me who was talking!”
“That’s what happens when you say somethin’ and you don’t say it’s you! Just made me look like a moron.”
Without warning, a lantern, not belonging to either of the brothers, shined upon them.
“Ah, good cold evening, gentlecolts.” greeted a green unicorn covered in a gray cape.
The two clumsily turned to the stalker as they flashed their weapons.
“Hold it!” Legerity warned, holding his rifle towards the stranger. “Who are you and why were you following us?”
“Oh... I expected you’d know who I am.” The unicorn said rather disappointed as he took another step closer.
“Wait, you’re one of the bounty hunters. Horn Siringo, is it?”
“That’s a bingo.”
“But, why were you following us?”
“I never intended following you ponies or anything like that. I’m on my way from Appaloosa because of some clusterfuck I got myself into.”
“I see... Celerity put your shotgun away.” He placed his rifle on his sling.
Celerity didn’t stop pointing his weapon, however, as Siringo walked over to to Applejack and Apple Fritter.
“What’re your names?” he barely whispered to them.
“Applejack... she’s Apple Fritter.” Applejack answered.
“You’re all heading to the Gristles’ Plantation, yes?” he asked the stallions as he noticed the chains holding the mares together.
“What does it look like? Step away and stop talking to them, no sale.” Celerity threatened.
“Come now, I am not making a transaction. If I was, I’d be waving a large bag of bits in your face.”
The Earth pony pulled the hammer on his double-barreled shotgun. “Last chance, fancy pants...”
“Oh, very well...” He sighed. Using his magic, Horn simultaneously dropped his lantern and flipped out his revolver.
Within one second, he shot the faces off the so-called quickfire brothers. Remnants of skin flew everywhere as blood sprayed from face to face, causing Applejack to shut her eyes. She thought everything occurred so fast that she was hallucinating.
“So the plantation is where you’re heading? You can travel with us as you wish.” Legerity offered.
Applejack opened her eyes to discover that it, indeed, was a figment of her imagination.
“Yes, it’s where I’ll be hiding for the meantime. And I guess I’d like some company along the way.”
“Swell...” Celerity muttered sluggishly. “Leg, I feel as slow and boring as a snail, and I hate snails, it’s your turn to drag me.”
“No, I am not going to do that no more. That’s why I always said we could use a wagon.”
“Aw, do it you sonuva-”
“What have I told you about calling me that? Fine, dammit, I’ll do it. Lead the way, Mr. Siringo.”
………………………………………………………………………
“Applejack, is it?” questioned a stallion’s voice. AJ’s heart skipped a beat as she awoke from her sleepwalking. She looked up to see Siringo glancing at her as he was dragging Apple Fritter. Legerity also appeared to be in deep slumber as he continued to carry his brother on his hooves.
“If you wouldn’t mind me asking, would you like to sit on my back?”
AJ glimpsed down at Apple Fritter as she was hauled through the dirt face up.
“Well, you want to be a little charmin’, don’t ya?”
“Well for her, I forgot her name, she just dropped to the ground like an anvil and she would’ve been behind us by a mile if I didn’t take it upon my responsibility to tow her. I’m not tryin’ to flirt here, miss, and I’ll ask again, would you like to sit on my back? I won’t kick ya off.”
“I bet you’re just as immoral as those other two, why’re you trying to be Mr. Nicey? It ain’t gonna help us before we go to... to wherever nightmare we’re going.”
“I’m a bounty hunter - they’re slave traders. Other than the fact that I kill, it’s against people who truly, more or less, have it coming to them. Slave traders do not intend to kill, but they torture those who don’t have it coming to them.”
“These deviants have it ‘coming to them’.” She nearly shouted. “Why didn’t you rid of them when you had the chance earlier?”
“Because they don’t have a bounty on their heads which is, you know, the job I mentioned a few seconds ago.”
“Then why don’t the law do anything about these kinds of ponies?”
“It is not like they’re ignorant of it. But as sadistic as you have to be to be a slaver, you can’t just accuse someone of being so.”
“Or stopping the nonsense as a whole?”
“The law definitely can’t do that, there’s only less than ten officers for each Appaloosa and Dodge Junction, and Celestia-knows-what for what backup the Gristle Brothers have. Easily outnumbered, putting those simple numbers together. Look, are you going to get on or not, you’re making the offer more difficult than it needs to be, this chit-chat about morals isn’t something I’d want to have just about now, ‘specially with some filly soon-to-be serf.”
“Fine.” she mumbled grudgingly as she slowly climbed on top of the bounty hunter’s back.
“See? All you had to do was nod and say ‘yes’.”
“Whatever, how long until we’re all there?”
“By sunrise, don’t even anticipate it.”
………………………………………………………………………
“How long were you carrying those two?”
“Since just about midnight.”
“Alright, we’ll take them from here, Horn. Go on now.”
Applejack unsealed her eyes as she was gently let down on the dirt floor. She saw Horn reluctantly walking past a large, dignified-looking, metal gate that boasted a far higher reputation than what it truly had. They have finally made their destination at the Gristle Brothers’ plantation. Legerity chained them up again and led them past the gates.
The vegetation seen throughout the fields beyond made it an oasis in the midst of the one-dimensional desert. Ponies simply wearing rags lined up across crops as they were supervised by a more distinguished stallion sitting atop a pony of his own. A crude path leading from the gate guided to a building straight from Cloudsdale, excluding the clouds. It was clear this was the residence of the owners of the plantation, Top, Cap and Fox Gristle.
The quartet drifted across the trail to meet a weathered Earth pony sitting on a rocking chair at the feet of the plantation house.
“Overseer Oats,” Legerity addressed. “Where can we find Fox?”
The old pony simply gestured his hoof in a clockwise motion. “You’ll also find the slaver named err... Sharps with him, too.”
“Duly noted.” He lead the way around the plantation house.
“Who’s this other slave trader?” Celerity asked. “I don’t think I’ve seen him before.”
“I have, he’s one of the two feather dusters responsible for taking ponies from Los Pegasus, a long ways north-west of here. He comes around only twice a month.”
The backyard of the mansion was more dense with trees than the front, at last providing shield from the daylight. A pegasus stallion wearing a similar outfit to the Swift brothers sat alone on a bench, accompanied by a mare serving him beverages with a silver platter.
“Oh, if it isn’t Leggy.” The pegasus said with a smirk. “I see you have your brother with ya, as well as some fillies you’re about to sell, if I’m right?”
“Correct, I was told Fox Gristle’s here?”
“He’ll be coming out the door behind me in a moment.”
And on cue, a gray Earth pony wearing a red, highly-esteemed suit strut through the back door of the plantation house. His mane was brown and slicked back neatly, supporting the confident look on his face.
“Ah, gentlecolts, the Swift brothers! Why don’t you two have seat with us, maybe have a cup of honey? We were just talking about - about the various abilities of a slave as an apple bucker. To give an example, did you know one could be capable of even kicking a tree off it’s roots? It’s probably not, what you call, feasible but hell, it sounds like a hell of a strength.”
“I gotta say,” Sharps joined in. “It’s tough looking for capable ponies from Los Pegasus. Most I plan to kidnap are usually fruitbowl pieces of crap. That’s why I’m looking into trying to find zebras, obviously the same stature of a pony, but maybe more hard-working, considering where they’re all from.”
“We’re lucky to be here then, because we’ve got two mares who are just that.” Celerity stepped back, revealing Applejack and Apple Fritter.
“Fruitbowl pieces of erm... crap?” Fox repeated.
“Of course not, these are apple farmers. My brother and I found them on a hike to Appaloosa.”
“I’ll be damned, good brother. Sharps, examine the orange one.”
“Will do.” The pegasus walked up close to Applejack. He focused on her hind legs, feeling her hooves. “I wonder how hard she bucks then.”
She then proceeded to give a fine example of how she could buck the strongest tree she could find, sending Sharps back into the trunk of a tree.
“You whore-of-a-cunt-fucking-bitch!” He sped towards Applejack. He was only a couple feet from tackling her until he was stopped by Legerity in a clothesline.
“No, don’t you think about doing that. Hurt her, and we wouldn’t be able to see anything else, would we?” He implored as he held him down on the ground.
Fox sat on the bench cackling and clapping his hooves. “Legerity, I’ve seen enough. She’s certainly the fine specimen, I’d gladly pay a price named by you.”
“You don’t want to see what the other mare could do?” Celerity asked.
“Please, I would assume she’s just as proficient as the other. Do you have their names?”
Legerity confusedly looked at the two mares back to back. “That, I do not know.”
“Well, you haven’t gone as so straightforward as asking them?”
“They don’t answer me.”
“Some ‘convincing’ would make it otherwise. In fact, no, causing any harm to this fine ponies would be an act of crime to even the lowest of those with no morals. Now please, name the price.”
“Four thousand.”
“Outrageo-” Fox cleared his throat. “I apologize, maybe a considerably lower price would suffice?”
“You said, ‘name the price’.”
“There’s only two of them, such a price would be ample if there were to be four!”
“Thirty-five hundred. Making it - a thousand and seven hundred fifty each.”
“I did not realize you were so much of the intellectual-type. Thirty-five hundred it is!”
Celerity snickered as he walked to Applejack. “I have to say, it’s been a pleasure traveling with you two fillies!” He spanked her on the flank as his brother passed them over to Fox Gristle.
Applejack was now a proud “employee” of the Gristle Brothers’ plantation.
“You’re gonna have to repeat that.” Mac said, very irritated.
“What. I said I had just remembered now seeing that Applejack lady more than a week ago!”
“You realize you had the chance to rescue Mr. Mac’s lil’ sis the moment you saw her, do you, Siringo?!” Cornfield scolded. The three were starting a spectacle as they argued with each other on the train to Dodge City. “Why didn’t you kill the two stallions holding her?”
“You’re one to say that. Mind you, this wasn’t long after I got into ‘that accident’. Didn’t want myself to get in enough trouble. I also had no damn idea that you were her brother at the time, Mac.”
“She would have talked about me.”
“That, she did not! As soon as I tried talking to her, she all got her tail in a bunch and questioned my morals. Then, she just fell asleep until we got over to the Gristles’.”
“Hold up! Just so we know this is the Applejack we are talking about, describe her.” The marshal instructed.
“Orange with blonde hair and green eyes.”
“You idiot.” Mac berated.
“Oh gee, I guess I apologize then, fellas. Blame me for not knowin’ the connection between the filly we’re trying to rescue and the one I met a week ago.” Horn pleaded sarcastically. “Gah, you two never even told me her name until now.”
“Okay, enough quarreling.” Cornfield groaned. “When we get there, you fools wait at the edge of town while I have the marshals get on their way to Appaloosa.”
………………………
“Spatch, Weaver, Cross, Kingfish and Gaptooth are leaving now. Uh, y’all are ready?”
“You ask it like you aren’t, Marshal.” Horn said. “You sure you want to do this? You can just lay back here while Mac and I do the job.”
“No, no. I’m the one in charge of this little party, y’see? I’m just about as confident as a manticore on its prey.”
“Whatever you say, grand-pop.”
Cornfield anxiously looked up at the skies above the direction of the Swift Brothers’ ranch. Thick, ominous clouds drifted with a tinge of red from the gases of the Badlands.
“Marshal, will you ta-”
“Siringo, take the lead.”
“Sure th-”
“Wait!”
“What?!”
“Uh, you all sure we’re stocked up for this?”
“Are you trying to stall? This is only a half-day trip.”
“Er no, it’s a genuine question.”
“Okay, let’s see.” Horn tossed his satchel on the ground. “I’ve got my canteen, a couple boxes of ammo for my trusty breech-loading rifle, my bag of money and what I usually need for setting camp. What about you, Mac?”
Mac peeked into his bag. “Pretty much the same essentials as you.”
“Wait, hee hee, wait.” Horn chuckled as he looked deeper into Mac’s bag. He pulled out a gray pony doll, with only one button for an eye. “Just - hee hee, shit. Just explain what the hell this is?”
“Smarty Pants?” He answered, unconcerned.
“Just wanted to know.” Horn tried his hardest not to burst into laughter as he placed Smarty Pants back. “I-I wasn’t trying to mock ya or anything. Marshal, are you ready now?”
Cornfield didn’t answer, remaining in his state of abstraction.
“Mar-!”
“Oh ok, dammit, we’re going now!”
…………………………
“Phew, there’s a rock big enough for shade, can’t we stop for a break?”
“Marshal, it’s only been about an hour of walking.” Horn scoffed. It has been a short time since their departure from Dodge City, but far enough for any building to be unseen on the horizon. “And it ain’t even that hot. And we’re halfway there now.”
“Mac, don’t tell me you still feel dandy after all this?”
“Eenope.” Mac replied, walking casually but focused between Cornfield and Horn.
“Is that a yes or...”
“He looks quite fine, as you can tell. Admit it, Marshal, you’re the only one scared on this little adventure. I saw it in you since we left Dodge. Hell, since we left Appaloosa, at most.”
“Mr. Siringo, I do not need to admit it, as I’ve already stated I’m not scared.”
“Bullshit.” Horn blurted.
“What gives you the privilege to say that?”
“I have gone through more purgatory than what every marshal in the West thinks combined. I’ve also seen, fought, and killed stallions more degenerate than the drunken ponies you deal with in Appaloosa.”
“You’re known as a cold-blooded killer who kills for bits. Congratulations, Horn Siringo.”
“So you’re going to pull that card out now, huh? I do the things I do to make a living because there are no other choices I could’ve ever made.”
“You couldn’t have exactly been a professor at Canterlot, couldn’t ya?”
“My first name is Horn. Which I chose for myself. Because I never knew my parents. What the fuck does that tell you?”
Mac gave up looking left and right to the two stallions’ bickering and carried on on his march.
“Without being so mocking, I’d say it makes you a damn fine idiot.”
“Okay, and who ever chose you for your ‘job’, Marshal? Did y’all just have a go at some drinking game and see who lasted the longest with a whore?”
“Dammit.” Mac interrupted. “With the two of you arguing like this, we won’t get nowhere.”
“Mac has a point, Marshal. Just admit you have your tail between hooves about this.”
“For the 42nd time and being honest-to-Celestia, no, I am not scared. We can just hold this argument off until the day I actually do shit myself. Will a temporary truce be held?”
“To stop being such a drama queen about it, yes.” Horn agreed.
The three of them turned their heads to the remote pop sound of a gun. Horn impulsively slipped his revolver out of his holster while Cornfield fumbled his own onto the ground.
“Is it just me or are these always on cue?” Horn muttered as he shuffled to the top of the hill they stood on.
Cornfield hesitantly followed behind Horn. “Does this bring us to the Swift Brothers’ house at all?”
“Er, yup, because it’s that right there.” He pointed to an isolated, wooden shack in clear view, looking like it could collapse any second. A single pony was spotted loitering around and waving a pistol.
“That’s Legerity?” Mac asked.
Horn stared down on the house for half a minute. “No - it’s supposed to be a trap. I should’ve expected that. There’s probably more ponies stuffed inside the shack.”
“We can wait for the pony hanging outside to get inside, then we can ambush them.” Cornfield suggested. “Like shooting fish in a barrel, as that saying goes.”
“No, I want to see if they can surrender first.”
“Why?”
“Who knows, they might not even be part of the Gristle Brothers’ gang. They could be just be travelers wanting shelter.”
“Then explain why one of them would carelessly shoot their gun into the air.”
“Come now, sometimes ponies just want a gun to fire.”
“Fine, Siringo. This is your call.”
“My pleasure, Marshal. Mac, stay behind me. I’m gonna go hide behind that rock right at the bottom of this hill and we’ll wait for that pony to head inside.”
The two slid down the steep slope, trying to make as little noise as possible. The pony was still firing the revolver every few minutes. After depleting all six shots, he finally trotted back inside the shack.
“Swell. Marshal, come down here now. Mac and I will go to that other convenient rock in front of the shack now. We should have a clear shot on anypony in the window and coming out the door.”
Horn and Mac breezily dashed to the other rock as Cornfield lazily walked down the hill.
“Marshal, you in position?” Horn asked as he took out his gun. In response, Cornfield just held up his hoof. “I’m going to fire anywhere on the shack where no one’d get hit, and you say your words, got it?”
Cornfield shrugged and pointed at his ears.
Horn grimaced and then shot at the roof of the house. Voices within the house cursed and shouted. Ducking behind the rock, Horn urgently waved to Cornfield to say his lines.
“Oh shit! Dammit! Who goes there?!” The house shouted.
Cornfield continued to confusedly stare at Horn as he kept waving.
“We ain’t afraid to kill y’all if it’s a war you want!” The house yelled again.
As a last signal, Horn made a vomiting gesture to Cornfield. Cornfield raised his eyebrows at him, at last knowing what he meant.
“This is Marshal Cornfield from Appaloosa! Outside with me are about 5 other marshals who are trigger happy and will not hesitate to shoot you dead unless you comply with us!”
“Bullshit! I bet it’s just you, a drunken imitator, and a little filly out there!”
“Mac, you’d better get your gun out.” Horn whispered. He turned to the house and supported Cornfield on his speech. “Does this stallion sound like a filly?! I want all of you to slowly get out that shack with your hooves stuck to the ground!”
“Now who was that, Marshal Cornfield?!” The house asked.
“That was Marshal Star!”
“No! That ain’t him! I recognize that voice! That’s that bounty hunter, Horn Siringo! They be trying to kill all of us!” Without hesitation, the house shot back at Cornfield, Horn and Mac.
“Gah-dammit! What are the chances of that?!” Horn cursed. “You okay, Mac?”
“Eeyup.” Mac answered as he took out his new repeater.
“I’m pretty sure you know the technique, just keep your ass down and fire at them if they’re not doing the same to you. Marshal, are you okay over there?!”
Cornfield didn’t respond, still cowering behind the rock as it was pelted by bullets.
“Well it seems that they’re all focusing on Marshal. On my count, we fire at them. Three, t-”
“Two one.” Mac swiftly rested his repeater on top of the rock and aimed at the house.
He fired three shots, hitting three ponies with perfect aim. Followed by Horn, he also shot three at the house, only managing to strike one. At that moment, the house became quiet.
Horn slowly peeked out the rock. Through the door, he saw the corpses of the ponies shooting at them.
“Holy shit, Mac. Nice job. Was that all of them? Marshal, you can come out now. It’s safe.”
Mac took a quick glance in the house through the window. “None of them look like Legerity.”
“You’ll to take a better look than that. Maybe we did ki- aaahhhh!” he screamed as a lurking stallion hopped on top of him, struggling to slice his throat with a sharp hunting knife. “Mac! Marshal! Get this piece of shit off me!” He forced himself on the ground and rolled around, making the pony drop his knife.
The stalker breathed down Horn’s neck as he attempted to punch him now. Horn tried to stand up, helping give a better shot. As he got on his hooves again, the face exploded next to him. He looked up to see Cornfield and Mac in front of him, both holding up their guns.
Mac gave the dead pony a long, concentrated look, poking him with his rifle. “That is not Legerity either.”
“What the hell was that?! Which one of you gave the shot?”
“The shooter be me.” Cornfield replied.
“Shit, his face was right next to mine. A couple more inches to your right and you would’ve killed me too!”
“Well, one thing is, is we’re all fine and dandy now, right? Who were these ponies, you recognize any of them?”
“They’re all wearing a red bandana around their neck. They’re definitely part of the Gristle Brothers’ gang. The one who recognized me is known as Sweet Tooth Taylor, with a bounty of 500 bits for assaulting a mare in Appaloosa. In other words, you owe me 500 bits, Marshal.”
“I’ll work on combining all those rewards sooner or later. We should head back to Appaloosa now, fellas. No need for burying any of these bodies.”
Once they arrived back in town, Cornfield saw it was fit to only take Marshals Star and Cross along the river with them as the remaining officers set to the north. When they passed by, Celerity was heard going on his usual bitter rant.
“Ya goddamn cockteasers! I swear I'll have the bitches ya'll call'r mothers and fuck 'em 'till they die!” He maniacally shrieked when he saw the three of them trot by.
…..
“He hasn’t been around for a thousand years or some shit like that, no way he’s really influencing this kind of stuff they’re doing.”, Siringo said as they trekked through the sand to see Appleloosa’s buildings shrink across the horizon.
“Yes, he would.” Marshal Star replied. “If he’s able to depress a whole empire, or city in his absence, he likely can guide any group of crooks to just make a whole slaving ring with the ‘evil’ he has to spare.”
“Star does sound like he’s making sense, Siringo.” Cornfield added.
“Who’re we talking about?” Mac asked.
“It’s not like his evil’ll just float away down south here from the north. And we’re talking a lot north.” Siringo responded.
“Hey, we don’t even know that. Just you wait until he himself returns and makes us all a slave.” Star said.
“Who’s he?” Mac repeated.
Siringo immediately talked over Mac, “Why wait? We’ll just be skeletons by the time he’d come back. Maybe doing some readi-”
“YOU DON’T READ!” Cornfield blurted.
“Who the hell are we talking about?” said Mac in a louder voice.
“King Sombra! Some tyrant from whatever long ago that just went and enslaved a whole empire way in the arctic.” Star answered.
“Just. Yeah, just.” Siringo muttered.
“Y’know, we’ve been talking about this for years now. Cross, go and scout ahead, see if there’s an outpost, farm or something far by.” Cornfield commanded Cross as he flew off.
“Cross can fly, Cornfield. Why couldn’t we just grab a wagon and have him fly us?” Star wondered.
“‘Cause us just flying in a large box out here is easy target practice. Marshal Cross by himself probably won’t be seen at all.” Siringo replied. “The same goes for the other group of marshals. Shit, they don’t know much ‘bout the desert, do they?”
“I do not think I said this before, but they’re not actually going straight to the Gristle Brothers’ plantation like us. They’ve a different mission to just clear out some other gang that’s been hassling Appleloosa. If we ourselves do get into problems, Cross will go and fetch them here as quick as they can.”
“So we know what’s close to us yet?” Mac asked in the background.
“Hunh?” Siringo looked back, momentarily forgetting about his existence. “Oh, I forget, to be honest. Marshal, get out that old map you showed me?”
“Alright, gimme a...” Cornfield stared blankly into his saddle bag. “Gah-dammit. It’s in the sheriff’s office.”
“What?!”
“The last time I ever looked at it was when I asked you to point out anything in our path. I think I just left it somewhere there.”
“Fuck that, Marshal. That’s just really swell now.”
“Hey, all I remember when we got back at the office was Mac beating the hell out of Celerity again.”
“Ok, well, which way did Marshal Cross fly? Was it that way?” Siringo directed his hoof vaguely in a random direction.
“That’s going back to Appleloosa.” Mac pointed out.
“How did you-? Jeez, you need to know how to talk more, Mac.”
“Shut up!” Cornfield yelled. “He flew this way, the direction which we’re walking.”
“Okay, okay. Gimmie a second to try and remember.” A pause went through the group as Siringo stopped and thought. “Well, we left Appleloosa limits some time ago, so the closest place would be a little farm more than kinda far from here.”
“Ergh, well that sounds like it makes a little sense. Cross’d better be coming back to us in due time then.” Cornfield said.
…...
The quartet wandered for another 15 minutes when they decided to make a stop to take five. Marshal Cross was nowhere to be seen yet.
“Marshal, you did say Marshal Cross would be coming to us ‘in due time’, right? Does that also mean in terms of years?” Siringo asked in an irked way.
“No, I-ahh!” Cornfield yelped as he tried to lay on the scorching sand. “No, I was sayin’ that he should be. Er, in a demanding way.”
“You don’t suppose he could’ve been taken?” Star wondered.
Mac remained quiet above all, merely staring over the nearby river.
“Well considering the time that’s passed, he really was held back by some bandits. We should get and go as soon as we ca-” Siringo stopped himself when he saw Cornfield lazing on the ground. “Marshal, can you just stay off your ass for at least more than 5 feet at a time?!”
“Hey, I could be repeating myself over and over, but it’s because I’m damn tired!” Cornfield retaliated, almost whining.
“Marshal Star looks just fine!”
“Uh yes, I still feel okay, Cornfield.”
“I could not give less of a rat’s shit right now, I’m going to stay down here for a few more minutes.” Cornfield proceeded to roll onto his face, yelping in pained pleasure again.
Siringo scowled when he noticed Mac still sitting by the river in solitary.
“Watch over your husband for a moment.” He snarled to Star while he approached Mac.
“Heard enough quarreling of the Marshal and I, have ya?”
“Eeyup.”
“You probably had it figured by now, but this thing always happens whenever I happen to breathe the same air as him. The same thing happens with you and - er, Applejack?”
“What.” He maintained his gaze looking forward.
“Uh, when the two of you argue with one another.”
Mac barely turned towards Siringo with an almost stern expression. “Not that I want to remember.”
Siringo realized the stupidity of his question and faced away cringing. “Okay - uh, well there’s another thing I’ve been wanting to ask.”
“Ask.”
“We were back over at that shack where we thought we’d find Legerity. As soon’s we started attacking the Gristle bandits, you just went and easily picked three of em off, faster than me, I suppose.”
“Your point?” Mac asked confused.
“Point is, that - no, what I want to ask is you felt anything at all from that. Come on, I bet that was the first time you killed anything, more specific, another pony.”
Mac made a slight, unruffled pout. “No. I did not think they mattered to me.”
Siringo felt appalled by his sadistic-sounding statement.
“Really, now?” He said raising an eyebrow, fairly confused.
“Why’d you sound offended. You know who you are.”
“Well - wait, gah-dammit the second fucking time.” Siringo cursed flat-out under his breath. “Well, Cornfield probably told you, but I only ever have that kind of non-remorse or whatever it is when I kill my bounty. But when it comes down to just any other pony, yes there’s remorse. I don’t know either, that’s what I’ve told myself for years.”
“What of that buffalo?”
“Huh? Ah, Marshal told ya that, of course. I was a little liquored, also that was a buffalo, so no. You’re going to ask of the other two ponies I probably killed back by Dodge, and yes I didn’t feel easy at first.”
“Sounds selfish.”
“Killing that buffalo?”
“For money.”
“Jeez, haven’t I already said it enough times already? Lemme still ask this now, why wouldn’t you feel remorse for killing those three ponies?”
Mac faced back at the river and stubbornly said, “I ain’t gonna say that.”
Siringo rolled his eyes and walked off.
“The way you speak...” he whispered. “Marshal Star! Is your kissing ass done sleeping?”
“I’m up and fine already!” Cornfield called as he got on his four hooves.
“Marshal, Cross’ life is probably at stake right now, so I say we better hurry along if you care for him enough.”
“Oh, like I didn’t know at all, Siringo. Go ‘n lead the way, now.”
…..
After a mile or so of fast-walking, the group at last stared ahead to spot the outpost that eminently stood in front of them. It was a little combination of a set of shabby cabins and a shed with a couple of apartments that looked passably new.
“Hm - it seems they’ve grown a little to a settlement over the meantime...” Siringo said to his mild surprise.
“Where’re they supposed to get they all their materials to make whatever they do?” Star wondered.
“No one notices? Sometimes they straight up go to your forest in Appleloosa and chop a few trees down.”
“You know what name the place goes by?” Cornfield asked. “The guys back won’t mind writing this down on the map we’d make.”
“I never really had a clue. Also, don’t expect anyone expecting the settlement friendly, bandits and the like still live around there.”
Mac added in one last question, “Will Legerity be there?”
“He must be. He’d maybe think we’ll just zoom past him as he sleeps in one of those houses. Not to mention Cross,” He looked to Cornfield and Cross. “He’d have no reason to be anywhere but there if he didn’t come back to us.”
“The fool was probably lazy enough to just slack over there until we would get there.” Star speculated, appalled.”
As they all got closer to the houses, it was noted that it seemed like an absolute ghost town, with no pony to be seen at all. Only the sounds of the creaking, old cabins were heard blowing with the wind.
“They’re all just a little wary about law people like us walking in, right?” Cornfield asked nervously as they began at the dirt road splitting down the buildings.
Star kept his hoof ready to pull out his revolver, “Considering that Cross was around, they’re maybe just as...” His eyes were peeled wide open when something very horrific and shocking caught their attention.
A solitary stick was pinned deep into the middle of the road far ahead, bended back and forth by the wind. Bounded on it was Marshal Cross, barely looking conscious. His badge sparkled beaming through the dust as it laid on the ground under him.
“Oh my sweet goodness...” Star started to step back, almost tripping when he flatout dashed behind the cabin that was just to the right of them.
Mac made the mistake of stepping towards Cross when a gunshot popped. A bullet grazed his leg. He toppled on the ground, grunting in pain.
“Ah shit!” Siringo ducked as he tried to drag Mac through the rugged dirt to the left, splitting up with Cornfield while he followed Star. Another gunshot, followed by two, then three more sounded off. Trying to conjure a shield and tugging Mac, he collapsed in fatigue when they got behind cover.
Siringo was going to ask Mac if he was alright when the assault suddenly stopped. He gave himself a few more seconds until he would give a quick peek at their attackers. The pegasus slaver, Sharps, was standing beside Cross.
“Yes, please. Poke your head a little more outward, if you want!” The pegasus called out in a mock-friendly tone as he kept his rifle aimed at the two of them.
“What beef do you have with us?!” Siringo yelled back, pinning his back on the wall.
“Well, a friend and I, along with three others, have somepony we need to see back at Appleloosa and it looked like this law person or whoever the fuck he is didn’t want that to happen, flying around us and all!”
“Who is he?” Mac asked, breathing heavily while he held on to his leg.
“Shh! He’s Sharps, one of the other slavers. He doesn’t go around the desert, though.” Siringo whispered to him.
“Could his friend be Legerity?”
“Let me ask: Is your friend Legerity?!”
“Ye..!” Sharps stopped when he was heard to be speaking with someone else. “He’d rather not say!”
“It’s Legerity...” Siringo told Mac. “Listen now, we’re both sure as shit the marshals won’t do shit, so we’d better put this in our hands - er, hooves. Like last time.”
Sharps fired his weapon towards the sky, “Hey! Hello?! You all can still hear me? If you just turn back, I can untie this stallion and he’ll go back to sucking all your dicks and what not. Make another move closer and I’ll cut his off and impale his face with it!”
“Alright, that was harsh. Anyways, Mac, go and climb this wall.” He tapped the wooden, rugged wall behind them. Be able to peek you and your repeater just enough so they won’t see you. Give me some cover while I get over to Cornfield and Star. Got it?”
“Eeyup.” Mac sit himself up straight and started to carefully scale the old cabin. His eyes were barely an inch higher than the roof as he grabbed his rifle from his sling.
“You ready?”
“Yes. Go.” He was able to get a more visible look on their attackers. Legerity was seen standing tentatively not far from Sharps, behind the two-story apartment. The other three bandits were moving up to Sharps out of cover.
Siringo sprinted across the road, feeling too drained to attempt to make another shield. He would’ve easily been burst to bits if it wasn’t for Mac.
Mac almost fired blindly at the ponies, intending to scatter them off. Legerity was in his sights, running with the other bandits. He ached to just simply pull the trigger to pin him on the ground, but he didn’t want to kill him just yet.
Sharps, though, started to hop to the sky. “Wait, you forgot that I can fly? Let me see you, you little bitch!” He quickly took off towards the counter-attacker.
Mac felt confident that he would be able shoot Sharps as he continued to get closer, until he began to feel uneasy. It was no longer like the time by Dodge, where he was able to safely hide behind a rock.
He fell off the roof of the cabin, landing flat on his back. He heard the flapping of Sharps’ wings get closer, so he rolled under the building. He could see the frightened expressions of the guiltless residents looking down at him through the floorboards.
Sharps was hovering above the house, preparing his pistols. “Okay, boy. If I’ll have to shoot through this thing, I will.” He began laying fire carelessly through the ceiling.
The ponies inside screamed in despair while they struggled to exit. One was unfortunately struck by Sharps and fell face down just above Mac. The pony’s friends rushed back to his corpse crying, attempting to get him on his hooves.
“Ah, shit. What have I done.” Sharps muttered with a feeling of remorse when he entered the house. The other ponies inside huddled to the corner of the room at the killer’s sight. Gazing down at his unlucky victim, he caught Mac through the floor.
“You absolute piece of shit, you’ll make up for that.” He snarled as he pointed his pistol straight between Mac’s eyes.
“No, you will.” Mac growled just as viciously when he fired his revolver up at Sharps. Splinters of wood spiked up in the air as the bullet struck past his left foreleg.
“Argh!” Sharps roared as he staggered to the ground, alongside his casualty.
Mac tried to compose himself for a second, filled with enough guilt and burden, until he remembered Legerity. He rolled back out from under the cabin back to the roasting sunlight. An unusual silence was over the small town.
“Whatever did Siringo and the others do?” He thought to himself while he stepped out on the road. Surprised, he saw the three corpses of the bandits. “I mustn’t have heard the gunshots.”
Mac began jogging down the road looking either for his friends or for Legerity. He even stopped and was shocked at the fact that he referred to them as his friends. Mac reached the edge of town where, instead, he found the latter.
Legerity shuffled about, distressed and impatient for Sharps to come back. He felt Mac’s presence and slowly turned around to face him.
“Stay right there.” Mac warned, pointing his revolver at the unicorn. He knew he was at this point, but now had one of two options he had to choose in a matter of milliseconds. Mac would have to get up to Legerity and take him back for capture, or shoot him right now on the spot, but doing so would cause him to lose any further confirmation of where Applejack is.
However, something caught Legerity’s attention, making him lose tension and smirking as he looked at the sky. Mac couldn’t afford to look away, as he could’ve been obviously making a distraction.
“Mac! Wait! Keep him there!” Siringo and the other shouted as they were almost on their way alongside him. Marshal Cross was there along them, still injured from torture.
Legerity continued to grin when he held up his foreleg high up in the air. Macintosh kept locking his eyes on him, getting frustrated.
Marshal Cornfield and the others finally stopped next to Mac, “Legerity, you son of a bitch, don’t you make another-!”
Sharps darted by to scoop up Legerity. Mac immediately fired at the two of them, panicked, missing all shots until the rest of his seven shots were used.
Siringo pulled out his rifle when the flying duo were already a quarter of a mile away, “I’ll be able to pick them off, I know it.” He muttered reassuringly. He steadied his sights over them as they shrunk over the horizon. His body tightened up when his horn’s magic went to pull the trigger.
Click.
Everyone else tensed up awaiting the shot, but heard nothing.
“No! Not now! Not fucking now!” Siringo complained. “Of all times, gah-dammit!”
“What the hell happened?!” Cornfield asked.
“My rifle fucking misfired, that’s what happened! Shit!”
Mac sighed, sitting down and resting his head on his hooves.
“I - I’m sorry, Mac. We were close.” Cornfield said gravely. “What do you suppose we do now?”
“...What else.” He looked up at the thin dust trail left by Sharps. “We keep going.”
A loud bang clacked against the iron bars of a cell, disrupting Mac’s rough sleep. He opened his eyes looking down at his own puddle of drool.
“That’s right. Damn boy, I bet you’re even too wasted to even know how you got in there.” said the disdainful voice. “Charlie, look at this.”
Mac heard the hooves tapping on the ground as he heard another pony walk up to him. He tried to look up to find himself in a jail cell, with Celerity and Siringo watching over him.
“Urgh... Siringo?” He coughed out.
“Who the hell? My name’s Charlie, you fool.”
“Love will live on, whoa-oh!” Another voice sang in the corner the cell Mac was in.
“Wyatt, shut the fuck up with you singing!” Celerity snapped. Mac turned behind him to see Marshal Cornfield rocking back and forth hysterically, singing.
“For you cannot spend your life regretting!” Cornfield continued.
“Macintosh! Do you know what you’ve done?!” Celerity asked, shouting over Cornfield’s singing.
“No?”
“Oh, you sick fuck! Kidnapping innocent ponies and selling them off for money. We know whatever gross shit you and Applejack do.”
“I’ve no idea what you mean.” Mac responded, totally bewildered.
“You must face another day!”
“Do you fuck your sister?!” Celerity questioned. He was sticking his head through the bars now.
“Yes!” Wait, why did he answer that question?
“But do you have anything to do with the trafficking of ponies?!”
“No!”
“Once you’ve loved her, whoa-oh. Now you’ve lost her, whoa-whoa-oh!”
Celerity promptly walked through the cell wall, and proceeded to kick at Mac while he still laid on the ground.
“Stop fucking lying! I have Applejack tied up outside right now, you like me to bend her over the table and fuck her raw in front of your eyes?!”
“After the shadows, the sun will be shining!” Cornfield shrieked, ending his song on a flat note.
“Fuck it, I ain’t gonna mess around no more.” Celerity pulled out his revolver on Mac’s face and fired.
…..
“Mac, come on, wake up!” Siringo implored as shook the sleeping pony.
Mac cracked his eyes open terrified, blindly throwing a punch at the unicorn.
“Ow, you son-of-a-bitch!”
“You should not have woke me up.” He scowled. He bit into his hoof in recoil.
“Well, I thought I should’ve. You were squirming about and groaning for a while, after all.”
Mac swiveled his head around him, he noticed the burnt campfire while they sat by the river. The Marshals were nowhere to be seen.
“Where has Cornfield went?”
“Him and Star thought Cross was starting to feel worse, so they left early to the farm, where it’s hopefully more friendly - if I remember.”
“We’re already close to the farm?”
“Yeah, I’m surprised, too. All that walking’s starting to be a blur now as those days pass by. Anyways, I stayed behind because you didn’t seem to move an inch in whatever slumber you were in.”
“We’ve caught any sign of Sharps ‘n Legerity?”
Siringo gave a quick, confused glance at Mac, wondering why he’s asking so many questions, “I don’t think we did at all. It’s not like they’d keep running away just to conveniently stop where we’d end up.”
“If your shit gun didn’t misfire...”, Mac scoffed.
“Excuse me? We gonna talk about that now?”
“You coulda stopped that. Probably’s your ammo.”
“Bullshit. What makes you such a weapons expert? I happen to get my rounds from Los Pegasus. And I checked just earlier, it will work fine the next time it’s used.”
“You sure they’s called rounds?”
“Wha-? You concluded it was my ammunition, you should know whatever the hell they are called.”
“Sure, I do.”
“Then what do you call them?”
Mac tried to hide a smirk, “Rounds.”
“Okay, that’s you trying to go and get at me, huh? My sides are splitting. Know what, we’re going to get up and get the hell over to the farm now.”
…..
The “farm” stood humbly, just hugging the side of the river along with other small houses and what appeared to be a doctor’s office. A creaking water-mill’s wheel spun in flowing water, next to the farm’s crops. Its crops spread over an exceptional space of land across the river at the feet of the vast mountain. The folk remained to their daily tasks, nonchalant but staying aware of Siringo, specifically.
“I’m starting to feel a bit paranoid here again, so it’s best we go an’ get Cornfield and the others right away.” Siringo said.
The two walked over to the doctor’s office to see Cornfield standing by the door smoking.
“Star in there with him?” The unicorn asked.
“Yup.” Cornfield muffled.
“Well, get him, ‘cause we’re leaving n-”
“Whoa, whoa, stop there.” He urged, interrupting Siringo. “We’re not gonna leave yet.”
“What exactly do you mean, Marshal?”
“Exactly what I just said, we ain’t leaving him until he starts to feel well enough. And no, you two won’t go on without us. I don’t need to say much else.”
“Are you forgetting our mission? According to Mac, it’s pretty important.”
“Geezus, I know. It can wait for a couple more days - to say the least. Now you couple go and find something else to do, as long as you don’t go on.” Cornfield threw his cigarette down and entered the doctor’s office.
Siringo gawked at the Marshal as he closed the door shut. “I’m not going to stay around here, that is for sure. Come on, walk with me, don’t stay with the old stallion.”
“You said he’s just ten years younge-”
“I don’t care,” he sighed. “and I’m serious, come with me. I’ve an idea.”
…..
Mac followed Siringo around the farm, circling buildings for a couple minutes until they stopped in front of a set of posters pinned on a wall. Some were dirty and crumpled, while others seemed straight from the presses.
“Okay...” Siringo observed the posters with a blank stare. “Shit.”
“Huh?”
“You know damn well what.” He looked aside in embarrassment.
“How’d you know your targets around then?”
“I always go to Cornfield himself when I’m done with the other. I-I’ve never bothered to check on these before.”
“The Marshal tells this place the bounties?”
“It might sound like it, but no. Sure, this and Appleloosa might have some of the same ponies, but that’s by coincidence. This farm holds their own bounties around the desert themselves. Anyways, look for one poster that might happen to have the words ‘Parasprite Hollow’ on them.”
“Parasprites?” Mac asked with uncertainty.
“No, no. They don’t have them. Just that the name that it was stuck with. Most nicknames given to any place around the desert is some animal name following by, eh, whatever. Sounds queer as hell, but it’s easy to remember. Now look for one!”
“Where’s that?”
“Parasprite Hollow? It’s across the river then we head north-west a little.”
“What’ll it look like?”
Siringo sighed and rolled his eyes. “Look, it’s just the name the gah-damned place has. So if we keep going and we find someplace that’s not desert, we’re at Parasprite Hollow! Got it?”
“I guess. Still dun know what you’re going for.”
“Since Cornfield is makin’ us stay behind, I figure it probably won’t kill us to sidetrack a little. By hunting down a bounty target.”
“Us?”
“You heard me. After all, I did vow to not leave your side. I’d like the company after all this time being ‘lone. Whaddya say?”
“Sure.” Mac nodded, still doubtful.
“Wunderbar!”
“What?”
“It’s - geezus, I should never explain...” Siringo tapped his hoof on the wall of posters. “Sidetracked again, look for whichever one that has that damned, shitty name.”
Mac scanned the wall for a moment. True to Siringo’s word, many of the posters held the name of a creature followed by some variation of a landform or just a random noun. Examples were Rattlesnake Ridge, Bear Rock and Cockatrice Mound, all printed in gritty font.
Mac raised an eyebrow at the numerous names, somewhat fascinated. “These’ve never been on a map.”
“Well, yes, because ponies like the Marshal don’t have the balls to make it so.” Siringo was sitting back, staring back at the folk. “Found it, yet?”
“Eeyup.” He tugged a piece of paper off the wall.
“Who does the poster speak of?”
“Bad Lee Cobb.”
“Ah, I knew ‘im once. A shame. What is he wanted for?”
“Robbing the stagecoach... of a family in Appleloosa.”
“Anything more to that?”
“Murder of a buffalo.”
“Heh. The sum of those crimes, I guess the reward dead or ee-live is at least three-thousand bits?”
“Three-thousand five hundred.” Mac handed the poster to Siringo to put in his satchel. “You say you knew him.”
“Gotta love those convenient details. And yup. I, uh, seen him once at the plantation. He’s a bit loony. And who knows, I’m saying - and I’m just sayin’ - we might find them with a pony they probably went and bought. Slim chances, though. Don’t keep your hopes up.”
“We goin’ now?”
“I think we’ll have to. I shouldn’t forget the bounty on me while there’s a bunch of angry eyes on me at the same time.”
…..
The two ceased their half-day travel when they reached Parasprite Hollow, which apparently wasn’t the sandy desert, but a transition to a woodland terrain at the foot of the peaking mountain to the north.
Siringo nearly laughed out loud at Mac when he caught sight of the scattered trees. “Looks like not-desert to me. We’re here.” His tone tuned to a more serious mood. “Okay now, this being the first time someone’s tagging along, I’ll just tell ya this since I don’t know what to say: follow my every step and you might not get us killed.”
“That helps.” Mac jeered, pulling out his revolver.
Siringo laid his forehoof on Mac’s gun while he took out his own rifle. “Whoa, I ain’t so sure about that now.”
“What?”
“Until I say so, I’ll be the one to make a shot. In the meantime, you’d better just watch.” he instructed. Siringo began to walk deeper into the forest, keeping his head low to the ground. “These trees spread on for a while, so we might tread on for a few. And hey look, the sun’s almost done setting, maybe we can rely on the night then.”
As dusk progressed into the day, an intensely chilly air began to sweep through the forest. Siringo continued to venture forward comfortably in his coat while Mac shivered with every step.
“You’ve thought once about getting dressed, have ya?” Siringo asked, glancing back. “You’re practically naked right now ‘cept for the hat you’ve been wearing, unless you noticed yourself. Where’d ya get that, anyways? Swear I’ve seen someone else wear that before.”
“Y-yup. Ce-Celerity had it-t.”
Siringo quickly chuckled at Mac’s suffering of the frigidness. “Huh, you stole from ‘im?”
“G-guess so. He t-t-took it from AJ, a-after all.”
“Now that makes it a bit different. Wouldn’t picture a mare wearing a stetson.”
“W-well, it used to b-b’long to Pop.”
“All this shit ya telling me.” Siringo muttered. “Why’d she have it?”
“He’s dead.”
“Oh. How ‘bout your mother?”
“Dead, too.”
“Oh... shit.”
One of many awkward pauses came into play for another few seconds.
“Uh. Er, what happened to them?”
Mac grimaced at Siringo, but felt obliged to answer no matter what. “N-never knew. Th-they was here one d-day, then g-gone the next. L-like they’s ki-ki-kidnapped. Took a wh-while ‘til we g-got the news.”
Siringo figured out what the puzzle was then quickly pieced it together. “Oh. So...”
“Yes. Th-thanks, Detective S-songbird.”
“I mean that doesn’t sound very ca-”
“‘Scuse me?”
“Sorry. Just got one more thing I wanna ask.”
Mac turned to silence, which answered “yes” to Siringo.
“It’s kinda that, given the problem she’s in, makes me asking it weird but-”
“Nope. No.” Mac interrupted, firmly shaking his head. He was sounding so irked he was ignoring his shivering.
A nearby glow caught Siringo’s attention, but was already occupied in their overdone conversation. “Wha-what? You didn’t let me f-”
Mac started to speak so fast it shocked the both of them. “Ya mean to tell me if it’s okay to f-”
“Shh!” Siringo gestured his forehoof up. The light was now a lone stagecoach alongside several ponies seeming to camp for the night. The two exchanged glances. “Let’s circle around a bit to get a good view.”
…..
They spent several minutes stalking around the ponies, seeking for any hint of Bad Lee Cobb. An obvious, red box of dynamite sitting on the stagecoach drew Siringo’s curiosity while Mac was still infuriated by their prior conversation.
Once they returned to their starting point, they both laid on their stomachs facing the unsuspecting campers.
“I’ll shoot that box.” Siringo suggested, getting his rifle ready.
“Sure he’s there?”
“Well, he’s wanted for stealing a stagecoach and - it said he was reported to be goin’ here, right?”
“Yup.”
“So that removes some wrong answers, doesn’t it? Plus, it ain’t like the poster will say anything misleading because it always says so, right?”
“Sure he’s there?” Mac repeated.
“He will, I assure that. Stop bitching, now.” Siringo relaxed his body, focusing as he squinted through the sights of his rifle. He pointed towards the red box, and with a deep breath, ordered his horn to take the shot.
Click.
“Ah, shit!” Siringo blurted out.
Each of the ponies resting by the stagecoach instantly swiveled their heads to the bounty hunters’ location.
“The damned hell was that?” The stagecoach asked, paranoid.
“Who’s that stumblin’ around in the dark?!” One of them shouted out. He began to cautiously linger towards them.
Siringo and Mac buried their faces on the ground, fiercely whispering to each other incomprehensibly. The latter gave up and awkwardly crawled back, pulling his repeater out. Siringo cursed at Mac, again in gibberish, and forced himself up to approach the ponies.
“Oh, gentlecolts.” Siringo faked a smile and glanced to wherever Mac could be.
“You’s that bounty hunter, right?” The pony questioned. Upon a closer look, all of them were Earth ponies and wore a red bandana over their mouth or neck, as members of the Gristles’ gang.
“It is, alright.” Another one of them remarked. “Name’s is Horn Siringo or some queer shit like that.”
Siringo sneered at the bandit’s insult and dropped his smile. “Since you fellas see me an’ all, there’s a reason why I’m here.”
The four crooks exchanged glances, confused.
“I am looking for the stallion known as Bad Lee Cobb. A poster says h-”
The same offensive pony laughed. “Thought ya didn’t learn how to read!”
“...the poster says he was last reported to be around this region, Parasprite Hollow, being more exact. And he’s currently wanted of robbing a stagecoach from a family in Appleloosa, assuming that right there is the one it’s mentioned?”
“And going up to us was a good idea?”
“In a way, yes.”
“What kinda dumb fuckin’ shidiot are ya?” The third pony heckled.
Siringo gazed aside again, seaching for Mac. After a vital few seconds, he spotted him hidden behind a tree readied with his gun.
He warmed up his horn and looked back at the gang members. “I’m not sure. Your definition.”
In quick succession, three gunshots went off and blood exploded from three of the Gristles’ bandits. Two fell down instantly without a sound while the ridiculing one staggered down, screaming in agony. Assisting Mac, Siringo unholstered his revolver and swiftly picked the head off the last standing pony, which fell straight on his back.
Siringo walked up and stood over the surviving pony, still screeching.
“Say, can you tell me your name, boy?”
“AAAAGGGHHHH! OHHHHHH! Pip! It’s Pip!”
Siringo shot into Pip’s stomach, furthering his anguished bawling and squirming. “Huh, sounds as stupid-ass as mine, doesn’t it? It kind of beats ‘Horn’, though.” He fired another round into Pip’s head. It exploded as bits of brain splattered on his legs.
He looked back up only to notice Mac’s bewildered stare, watching him stand over the corpse like a psychopath. “I... I just got mad, is all.”, he said with calmness back in his eyes.
“Alright, mothafuckas, I’m getting outta the damn thing now.” The stagecoach shouted and an Earth pony burst out the door, landing on his face.
Siringo switched his sights onto his bounty target. “Cobb, unless you wanna stay alive, stay right there or you’ll have your ass blasted to the moon!”
“Oh, I’d regret shooting it if I’s you, bounty hunter.” Cobb laughed, clumsily standing on his hooves holding the gun in his mouth.
“And why is that?”
“I dunno, I’s meaning I wouldn’t regret it, really.” He flipped around and pointed his pistol on the dynamite.
“NO!” A mare screamed from within the stagecoach.
The explosion blew Siringo and Mac off their hooves and was heard for miles. The weather quickly turned from frigid to sweltering from the fires it created.
…..
After a few minutes later, Siringo woke up, still dizzy from the knockback.
“I think I mean that when I said he was ‘a bit loony’” He coughed with his eyes to the sky in awe.
“Who was that?” Mac asked, worried as he stood up.
“I know what you’re thinking, Mac, but no, it couldn’t have possibly have been her.”
Mac bitterly turned to Siringo and snapped like he did earlier. “If we go to Sickfuck Cotton Acres an’ we find out my sis’s dead from right now, I’m gonna blow your brains out right on the spot.”
“Hey, it’s not like I saw her being sold, but I guarantee they wouldn’t just sell her cheap right away. But we can’t assume now ‘til we cross that bridge. You’re going to calm down, now?” Siringo answered, sitting up.
Mac gazed at the aftermath of the explosion. “Right. AJ ain’t the average mare.”
“You okay?”
“Eeyup...”
“We’re okay. And we got what we came for.” Siringo glanced around the site. “You know what I said about you needing more clothes? There’s a big enough lookin’ pony over there, maybe you can take his minus the strap, if it doesn’t creep you.”
“It won’t.” Mac stepped towards one of the corpses without hesitation and started to take its clothes off.
As he was getting dressed, Siringo ripped off Pip’s red bandana and examined it. “Shit, if we keep killing off more of Top’s men, we’ll surely get enough attention. If the rest of us go by the ‘No witnesses’ line, we hopefully won’t have to go to some huge assault in the end. How are the dead’s apparel fitting you now?”
Mac now wore a green buttoned sweater and khaki jeans that comfortably wrapped him, along with AJ’s hat.
“See, now that looks a bit better. Want to rest or head back, now?”
“Ain’t sleepy at all.”
“Your call.” The duo started on their way to exit Parasprite Hollow. “One thing I admit, we did a good job.”
“Eeyup.”
“Well, other than the fact that the poor family’s not getting their stagecoach back and some innocent pony was killed...”
“The sun is up.” Siringo walked up beside Marshals Cornfield and Star at the near center of the farm. Other ponies gathered around a brightly colored stagecoach, as if anticipating something.
“Way to say ‘morning’, isn’t it?” Cornfield said. “You ‘n Mac just crashed when you came in the doctor’s clinic late last night. The hell you did, anyways?”
“Bounty hunting.”
“I see - wait, you did what?!”
“Killing a pony and getting paid. Yes, bounty hunting.”
“Right, thanks for the clarification. No, I mean with Mr. Mac?!”
“Yup. Why?”
“Shitfire. Hasn’t he killed 5-or-some-shit ponies already? Don’t he have enough to contend with having to tag along with your dirty work?”
“First of all - wait, he actually has killed five. I was the one who killed Lil’ Pip back there...”
“Just what are you saying now?”
“Er, nothing. I was going to say that he didn’t mind at all, plus it was a little target practice for him, I guess.”
Cornfield rolled his eyes. “Shouldn’t matter now. Mac’s still alive so that’s close enough to ‘alright’. So what was the name of the goon?”
“‘Bad’ Lee Cobb. Wanted for murder and theft of a stagecoach.”
“Where’s his body?”
“And that’s the thing. He... exploded.”
“So you don’t have his corpse?”
“Yeah, uh, he went and shot a box of explosive shit by him.” Siringo casually recalled. “Then he exploded.”
“No proof he was there or nothin’?”
“A piece of his hoof maybe could’ve counted, not that I have it.”
“So...”
“So yes, it was for nothing.”
Mac then entered the scene, shambling to Siringo’s side.
“What’s all this?” He asked, gazing at the growing assembly of bystanders.
Instead of answering his question, Cornfield sized up Mac’s new clothes. Now that he was in daylight, stains of blood were visible around his neck.
“I hope you’ve sewn up those threads up yourself, Mac.”
Siringo slightly leaned in front of Mac. “Oh, he got cold. And he was naked. I dunno why the hell you wouldn’t see that in the first place.”
“And as to this spectacle we’re lookin’ at,” Cornfield added. “this stagecoach just rolled in early this morning. You two were still asleep.”
“It was just standing there.” Marshal Star commented. “All suspicious looking.”
“Go and take a closer look.” Siringo urged, as he tapped Mac’s side.
Mac scoffed, but walked towards the cart anyways. When he was at a short distance, at about a few meters, he observed a blue moon painted on the side.
“I’ve heard about this before...” he thought.
He tilted his head up to see a flag waving on the wagon’s roof. It was a purple color depicting a blue dust and a magic wand surrounded by stars. Mac started to step backwards when a mare’s voice almost sang from within the stagecoach.
“Come one! Come all!” The stagecoach called.
Cornfield and Siringo both dropped their jaws. “Oh shit...” they muttered in unison.
“Come and witness the marvelous magic of The Grrreat and Powerful Trixie!” The wagon started playing an upbeat jazz song fused with that of music heard in Appleloosa. A wall of the stagecoach fell to the ground and unfolded into a stage. Speakers rose from the stage, revealing the music at full blast. Three cardboard cutouts of planets sprang from the top as the roof fell outwards.
A spark popped at the center of the stage followed by a dense cloud of smoke. When it faded away, a familiar blue unicorn stood egotistically with a smirk. The gem that held her waving cape of stars gleamed into the eyes of every spectator.
“Holy shit...” Cornfield and Siringo said, once again in unison.
Mac reversed himself to the two. “How you two know her?”
“She came by Appleloosa not long ago. And Dodge, as I heard. Never guessed she’d be in the desert.” Cornfield answered.
“Oh, she has been for a while now.” Siringo added. “I, uh, knew her. Then the mare decided we’d just be acquaintances when she saw I was ‘better’ than her.”
Trixie stomped the wooden floor below her to get the undivided attention she yearned.
“Settlers of the San Palomino desert! Have you heard of the unicorn who solely vanquished an ursa major? The one who conquered a flock of dragons? Even the one who transformed a young filly to a handsome stallion?”
One of the viewers shouted out, “What a load ‘o bullshit!”
Trixie gave a quick, nervous glance at the direction of the heckler, but maintained her character.
“She assures you, if it were for those tales to be false, she would not be standing in this spot, in the flesh, as The Great and Powerful Trixie!”
She faked an aggressive gaze over the crowd, daring any pony to taunt her any longer.
“Now, The Great and Powerful Trixie makes it a privilege of the settlers of the San Palomino desert to witness the most spectacular feats of magic performed in Equestrian history!”
Only half of the ponies in the crowd seemed to show any form of enthusiasm to Trixie, while the other half stood unamused, murmuring amongst each other.
Trixie, again, looked forward to her audience, but with more dissatisfaction.
“Her first act, however, must take a volunteer!”
The crowd groaned once more.
Siringo tapped Cornfield and Mac’s back. “Come on now, let’s stop wastin’ time and get Marshal Cross so we won’t see more of this nag.” They agreed and began to walk away back to the doctor’s office.
“However - this volunteer must also wager his or her life! Is there anypony at all?”
An odd urge suddenly took over Mac upon those words. Him, and of course every pony, knew what she was intending. He stopped right in his tracks, turned around, and raised his hoof.
Like a magnet, Trixie stuck her eyes onto Mac.
“Well, well! We already have an Earth pony willing enough! With little hesitation, no less.”
Cornfield didn’t notice Mac until he was already part-way to Trixie.
“Whoa, what’s that boy doing now?!” He paced back to him. They were both in the wide open, as the center of attention. “The hell you think you’re doing?” he whispered.
“What you think?”
“No shit, I know. I’m saying you’re taking yourself too far now. I’m saying over these past few weeks, you went and killed five damn ponies now, and almost had yourself killed two times, especially your bounty hunting with Siringo. You even took those clothes from a dead pony, for Pete’s sake!”
“Your point?”
“You have the rest of your family filled with worry back home. How do you think they’re gonna feel to hear that you’ve gone through all this bull, to be killed by some second-rate, stuck-up mare?”
“As if I’ll let her.”
“Okay, if not that, let me go back a step, you’re getting too ahead of yourself! Cocky is being the word for you, the same goes for that pony up there.”
Admittedly stubborn, Mac let out a short sigh and glanced around him. Every pony was still staring at the two of them.
“We are all waiting!” Trixie called out arrogantly, of course.
“I’ll see what happens.” Mac turned and continued on his way.
“You come back right here!”
This time, he was ignored and Mac kept walking.
Cornfield scorned at him, then went straight for Siringo to share his disapproval.
“What did you do to him?”
“Did I do something to him?”
“You know, influence him? Change his mind?”
Siringo reflected on his recent kill. “Uh, I may have.”
“Whether you did or not, the fool of a colt’s gonna go up there and get himself killed.”
“First, she never really was worth a damn in anything in history, so he does have a chance, even if she is a unicorn. And if not, meaning not at all, I’ll be right there to take a shot if he can’t do it on his own. That goes against something like this, but we both know I’d have to do that for him.”
“Better be right in both instances then...”
Mac nonchalantly hopped up on top of the stage. He countered Trixie’s disdainful gaze with a pressuring look of his own.
“Are you ready now, my volunteer? Prepared to regret your decision?”
Jaded by Trixie’s speaking, he shuffled into position, standing on his rear legs. He hovered his right hoof just above his revolver.
“Ha! It’s a funny thing to watch an Earth pony even dreaming of defeating a unicorn!”
“If you’re so ready, shut your mouth.”
“Yes, enough of this foolish talk.” Trixie giggled one last time and prepared herself. With a quick movement, she flipped her cape to reveal her own gun and gun belt, wrapped around her chest. She moved her hat to reveal her tall, pointy horn.
Mac couldn’t help but feel too confident himself at the thought of this ‘powerful’ mare trying to operate a weapon. He blew air out of his nose in place of chuckling out loud.
…..
Silence ultimately covered the whole area, except with the whistling of the wind. The only movement seen was the wavering of Trixie’s over colored cape. Back in the crowd, Siringo took part of this stare-off. Gently, he slid his revolver out his holster by half an inch.
Trixie’s grin widened every few seconds, but Mac stood at his spot remaining calm. His eyes were steely like Col. Mortimer himself.*
What felt like a whole day was actually 30 seconds, then there was a change in Trixie’s posture which everybody noticed. After her whole charade, she finally started to feel hesitant. Her eyebrows lowered and she adjusted one of her front legs to move inwards.
Right there on the stage, Mac immediately took note. He slowly touched the butt of his gun with his hoof.
Trixie attempted to cover her move and in turn, lowered her head as well as if she would charge.
Mac was a statue, he wasn’t convinced at all and maintained his hard stare.
Siringo hid back nervously, his horn was causing his gun to slightly shake in anticipation. Is she going to let down her guard? The question kept clouding the minds of both of them.
All what Mac needed was another subtle movement to confirm that question.
Will it be another minute of waiting? He held his hoof firmly on the gun.
“There, she moved again.” Her started to twitch her eyebrows. “Not enough.” He thought. Mac felt Siringo’s gaze watching from under him. Keeping his head still, he barely shifted his eyes to the right, in his direction.
There was a perfect window for Trixie to strike within that second. However, she was feeling uneasy enough at this point to make her move. Mac became aware of his mistake and looked forward. Unfortunately, Trixie seemingly took her turn in realizing her own error and made another one.
Her previously confident grin faded away.
Time to take the shot. Fluently and rapidly, Mac lifted the pistol from his holster. He spun it around his hoof and placed his other hoof to pull back the hammer.
Bam!
Moving back to the crowd, Cornfield flinched at the instant Mac moved. He buried his head into his foreleg. The audience stood their place in disbelief. Siringo stared at Mac in fright.
Summoning his courage, Cornfield looked back up at the stage. No blood was anywhere to be shed.
Plunk!
Trixie’s horn, in one whole piece, plunged down onto the wooden floor.
The Marshal beamed at the horn and gave a stern look down at Siringo. Siringo winced and firmly tucked the revolver.
Trixie gawked down at her horn in pure shock. She gasped and moved her head to look back at her challenger.
As if he had bucked a single apple tree, Mac casually twirled the pistol back into his holster.
Trixie burst into tears and collapsed onto her horn. “No. No! Why did that have to happen to me!? Why me!? Of all the unicorns in Equestria!” She continued to run her mouth incoherently while she tried to reattach her horn to no avail.
Mac quietly jumped down from the stage and trot up to Cornfield and Siringo. “Go ‘head and get the other Marshal. I’ll meet you outside.” He turned right around to begin to advance from the farm.
The two gazed at Mac dumbfounded as he moved on. All eyes were on his every step. The crowd scattered about to make a path for him. No one could decide for themselves whether it was out of respect or fear.
At a loss for words, Siringo shrugged at the Marshal and went back to the doctor’s office. He gave one last glance at Mac, as if he was reminiscing a familiar pony walking down that same path under the sunlight.
Hours of the day at the plantation gradually passed by. Separated since their arrival, Applejack hasn’t seen or heard of Apple Fritter in days. To her only knowledge, it was insisted that she would work in the house while Apple Fritter was out in the fields. It was not her fault, but Applejack felt guilty for not enduring the brutality with her.
Now she was like clockwork, but not in the way she knew as an apple farmer. Every morning, she would wake among the others in the slave quarters behind the house to be dressed appropriately. Next, she would have to help set up brunch for the slave owners: Fox, Cap and Top. Sometimes, Top wasn’t present and the seat was left open for a guest. For the rest of the day, Applejack followed any of the three around the house, either if they would sit outside to admire the landscape or in front of a fireplace. One time in the afternoon, she had to watch a slave fight organized by Fox. To watch a nonsensical fight to the death between two ponies against their will was sickening. From that moment on, if not her first day, she had to fight off the urge of bucking their faces in.
When night would come, she’d try to feel relief to have the day end, but homesickness instead. She hoped for Applebloom to stay focused in school despite her situation. As for Big Mac, she just didn’t know what to think. A part of her wishes he would stay to look after Applebloom and Granny Smith, and the other one to look for her. However, she tried to stray from the latter because she didn’t want to imagine him getting severely hurt.
She felt slightly satisfied about one thing, and it was she was not experiencing the exact hell Celerity promised.
Her daydreaming was over when she started to overhear conversation between Cap and Top. She stood by a door outside the library room with the eerie sounds of candles burning on the walls.
“Haven’t spoke with the little brother about it, but who was that pony he sold to that Cobb fellow?” asked a gravelly voice.
A younger voice replied after a short pause. “Was that green-haired one. You saw her, she came with the other mare working in the house. Sex-ridden queer. Don’t know why Fox would switch their jobs right then and there. Anyways, why’re you asking?”
“‘Cause he was supposed to deliver dynamite to an outpost down the southernmost part of the mountain, and a couple of my stallions have been telling me that he was killed way over in Parasprite Hollow, along with four others in my gang. That the place looked like it was blown up. I have no idea why the hell he’d wander up there.” Applejack had to resist from gasping out loud. She started to press her ear against the door.
“Huh. How long ago did that happen?”
“Must have been at most a week. Apparently, the explosion was so loud, some pegasi up the mountain heard it.”
“No survivors?”
“None at all. Heck, they even said there’s no trace of the pony they bought.”
“Didn’t he have a bounty on his head?”
“Yeah, for murder and stagecoach robbery. And I’m telling you, he wouldn’t have got killed if it wasn’t for him wandering past our lines like a damn idiot.”
Applejack stared blankly in disbelief as she pressed her ear onto the door.
A hoof forcibly shoved her aside. “Are you eavesdropping? Move.”
She looked up to see Sharps. He seemed much more distressed than their last encounter. Applejack turned away and walked off, pretending to mind her business. She looked behind her to notice him knock on the door with a hoof wrapped in bloodstained cloth. After a moment, the door swiveled open and he entered.
The gravelly voice sounded surprised upon his entrance. “Sharps, what are you back for so early? Where’s Legerity?”
“I was gonna talk with you about that. Cap, this is just between us two.”
“Er, that’s just fine.” The younger voice said, “I’ll be out back with Fox.”
In a panic, Applejack snuck into another room to hide. She listened for Cap’s hoofsteps as it faded away. When the door shut, she moved into view to eavesdrop through the door again.
“Go and sit. You don’t look good at all. You were saying?”
Hooves tapped on the ground and a wooden chair squeaked. “It’s a long story, but we weren’t able to get him. I mean, we couldn’t even get to Appleloosa.”
“Quit stalling now. Just spill it.”
“If you say so. Legerity, your ponies and I made it to the little town more east of here. When we got there, there was a Marshal just floating around staring us down.”
“A marshal officer? Out here?”
“Yeah, that’s why something didn’t feel right. Legerity had the idea of confronting the guy. Stupid fuck actually told us some other ponies would be coming for us, so we ganged up on him and set him as a trap.”
“Law doesn’t extend that far down the desert. Said why they came down here?”
“He was shitting himself too much to not say anything else other than to save himself, so no. But, that’s where everything just went loose.”
“Yeah?”
“These ponies - four of ‘em - managed to take us on. Your three, uh, were killed. And I had my hoof shot off. Still managed to fly off with Legerity.”
“How the hell did you get three of my ponies killed?”
Sharps sighed. “I was too focused on this one stallion. I, well, screwed up when I was about to get him and he shot me first.”
“These ponies. They were marshals too?”
“All, except two. The pony who shot me wasn’t - I don’t know him - but I sure as shit know who the other one is. The bounty hunter named Siringo.”
The aged stallion paused to speculate. “This might be coming together too well.”
“Huh?”
“Posses and gangs up north are holding their own against the law as well and I can’t do much about them. I dunno what they’re intending, but we’re going to be in their sights soon enough. Strange how just now they’ve decided to take action. I’ve spoke with Siringo some time ago. Told me he had a bounty on him. I’m betting that sonuvabitch is selling all of us out.” The stallion clapped his hooves together.
“So he is, huh?”
“How ‘bout this other pony who wasn’t a marshal?”
“Well, I know I haven’t seen him before. I don’t think I could remember what he looked like neither.”
“I, on the other hoof, know what to do. I will take a group of my gang and I’ll see about putting an end to these jokers ourselves before they get here. Then on to fend off against the marshals up north. Should be enough to tell Appleloosa and Dodge to back off. You’re coming with me.”
“Wha- why do I?!”
“Because - I’m saying so. You would want to get revenge on the pony who shot your hoof off.”
“I mind as well go looking for jobs in Los Pegasus again. You wouldn’t expect me to fire another gun again with just one hoof. I can’t just strap two machine guns to my sides and somehow fire them. Who the fuck even came up with that idea in the first place?!”
“Darn it, keep your voice down.” His voice sounded unfaded by Sharps’s growing rant. “You’ll also have to point them out to us, if you woulda let me finish.”
“Whatever you say. What’ll you say to Fox and Cap?”
“Not a thing. I ain’t going to cause enough worry as is. Eli will still be looking out for them. There’s also been a loner acting suspicious for some time down there, so that should be reason enough.”
“Reason enough for sending like, twenty of us?”
The stallion chuckled out loud. “Oh, can’t go wrong with overkill on this kinda job.”
“We’re going when?”
“Tonight. Come, I’ll gather some of my gang.”
Before Applejack knew it, the door opened and she bumped into the stallion, known as Top Gristle. Upon contact, she kept her eyes aimed at the ground. Top simply pushed her aside with a strict look followed by Sharps.
What could that Siringo pony possibly be up to, Applejack thought. She wondered who this other pony was. It could be Big Macintosh. No, it couldn’t have been. Whoever they were, she just hoped that these ponies would make it over here.
…..
In fact, they were very much on their way in the right direction. After the cruel, but pleasing duel, the five ponies spent the following few days travelling south along the mountain. Along the way, the Marshals shared their tales of Appleloosa and Dodge occasionally joined by Siringo. As always, Mac stayed silent and just walked on.
Now, the dusk has already taken over the land with the smallest peak of the sun over the horizon. At the southernmost foot of the mountain, they came across a more rugged terrain. Rocks took the forms of shapes from round and short to tall and jagged. It was a maze for the ponies to find their way, walking in circles and to dead-ends.
Further into these boulders, the light of a campfire was in sight. At the instant another hoof stepped on the ground, a gasp was heard and the fire extinguished.
“Before anyone was gonna say one of us go first, just let that sum’bitch go instead.” said Siringo.
Marshal Star growled for a second. “If it makes you happier, Nancy.”
Before anypony else could react, a voice shouted in the darkness. It sounded like a mare, but in a strange, but familiar accent never heard before.
“Do not take one step closer!”
Only Marshal Star panicked there and then. “Geezus-shit! Who in Celestia’s name can speak like that?!”
The spark of a lantern flashed in their eyes. Behind it, was a slim buffalo wearing its usual headband. She was well-hidden behind a boulder.
“I am saying this for the la-” The buffalo looked straight at the marshals’ polished badges and immediately changed her tone. “Um, my apologies, marshals...” She sheepishly lowered her lantern and stood up.
“Who are you?” asked Cornfield, moving in front of the group. “Why all the hostility?”
The buffalo stepped back apologetically. “Again, forgive me for that. It seems to be more disturbing in the night than usual.” She lit up the campfire and the blaze was re-ignited. “My name is Little Strongheart of the Buffalo Tribe.”
“Ah, you’re one of them who wanted to start trouble in town back then.” Marshal Star remarked.
“I didn’t realize some of you ponies still hold that against us. All of that aside, would you all like to stay for the night? I would enjoy the company after such a period of time.”
Cornfield exchanged suspicious looks with his deputies. “It’d be nice, I guess.”
“Then it would be my pleasure.” Little Strongheart gestured them to come forward to the campfire.
The marshals trotted over and each gave a nod towards the buffalo. Siringo had to tap Mac on the side to get his attention, who advanced as if the occurrence never happened.
…..
“What are you ponies doing this far west?”
Glancing at Mac, Cornfield spoke up again. “That’s business of the law. But let me ask, what are you doing so far from your herd?”
“From my tribe, there’s been word of ponies by the mountain intended to cause harm to us in the future. It’s my responsibility to discover this myself.”
“Hold it, how long have you been down here?” asked Siringo.
“I have been down here for at most a month. I’ve been thinking to travel more west, but I have a feeling it is far more dangerous than I thought. You stallions come from Appleloosa, if I remember correctly?”
“From Appleloosa and Dodge, yes.” Cornfield looked over to Mac once more and took the opportunity to ask a vital question. “This is something we need to know, miss - er?”
“You may say ‘Ms. Strongheart’.”
“Ms. Strongheart. Have you seen a pegasus flying by here with a unicorn? It’d had to have happened in the past week.”
“I have, actually. The two of them looked rather odd because they were just out in the open arguing were each other and were surely in a rush. I feel fortunate they didn’t see me.”
The trio slightly perked up.
“They took my sis.” Mac blurted out. Cornfield scowled over at him for a split-second.
“Oh.” Little Strongheart was thrown off guard with Mac’s words. “What do these certain ponies do, really?”
Cornfield exerted a sigh in mild irritation. “They kidnap ponies from anywhere close to the desert, is what they all do. It’s been going on for damn near months, and now we’re seeing to a stop to it.”
“Your sister’s name is Applejack, correct? I met her when her and her friends visited Appleloosa. We did not get along at first, but I came to have respect for her. I’m very sorry to hear that.”
“Don’t be.” Mac uttered.
“We’ve reason to believe that we know where she and a bunch of other ponies are being held and that they are used to work against their will. I let the red, silent one come along, as well as Horn Siringo right next to him.”
Strongheart grimaced at the unicorn. “I just noticed you there. Don’t think we forgot what you tried to do to us, Siringo.”
“Wha- I just asked you a question right then and there not five minutes ago!”
She turned to Mac again. “Also you, I very much admire your courage for undertaking this task. I have no doubt that you’ll come to her rescue someday. You remind me of an old pony legend passed down even among buffalo.”
Siringo sat up, interested. “What could this be? I might be familiar with it.”
“The pony’s name was Jon Gold.”
Mac’s ears twitched. Despite having no relevance to him, he couldn’t help but think he may have heard that name before.
“Jon Gold,” the unicorn repeated. “I haven’t heard anyone say that name in a coon’s age.” Each of the marshals agreed with him. “The stallion seen all of what the desert and beyond offered. It didn’t matter the type of situation anyone was in, he was always willing to help them, even through violence. I - I looked up to him as I grew up. Even had the chance to be with him for a while.”
“Oh, do you remember this story?” Strongheart asked.
“Sure do.”
“Go on, then.” said Cornfield.
“It was back at that farm we came from - where Mac decided to, well, spare Trixie’s life - where Jon Gold drifted by. I was living around there for a while and there was a gang, not as bad as the Gristle Brothers but certainly were a pain in the ass. Was barely as old as you at the time, Mac - it was also the second time around I got to handling my own gun - and it was there where I first saw him. Wore clothes exactly like Sheriff Silverstar, which was always what stuck out about him and had a long blond mane like you again, Mac.”
Mac almost raised an eyebrow, ultimately gaining interest in this Gold fellow.
“I maybe sounded desperate, but I implored for his help to stop this gang at the last second, since there’s no one else who wanted to. And to my surprise, he agreed to. Didn’t even think a second to say no. So we venture down south, just near the San Palomino border.”
“You know where he was going?” asked Mac.
“Hm? Oh, he was going to move out southwest, the same path we did. Anyhow, we’re there. This small gang had a just as small sort of villa, maybe like how I see the Gristle plantation now. I was brewing a simple plan of ambushing them, but Jon Gold had a simpler one. One he didn’t intend to tell me. All he did was keep me behind him, trot up to the front yard and got the attention of every pony holed up in there, and when the time came, he pulled out his pistol and shot every one of them before I could blink. I reckon he had some sort of custom gun because I remember, to this day, that he used only eight shots. And there are oh so few pistols like that.”
Mac peeked his eyes down at his gunbelt. His special revolver also held eight bullets.
“All that just came on to me so fast, I was just standing there. Like any gunslinger would, he twirled his pistol, tipped his hat, and was on his way. But not to the west like he was going, he was on his way to the east, to Appleloosa. Just as he was going to leave, he told me the words, ‘I’ll tell everypony this deed was of no one but you. I was never planning to tell anyone else about that bu-”
“Just a darn second,” Cornfield interrupted, perplexed. “So when I heard this about you a long time ago, that was never you. It was - the Jon Gold?”
“That’s right. And other than through other tales, it was the last I’ve ever seen or heard of him. By now, it should be clear that he’s passed but I wouldn’t like to imagine he died alone in the desert.”
“I never thought I would hear of an experience with the stallion himself.” remarked Strongheart.
“Me neither, Siringo.” Cornfield added. “Can’t believe you’d keep that a secret.”
“Well, I guess considering what’s happened in my life, it’d be claimed as bullshit.” Siringo looked at Mac with concern. The red pony continued to blankly stare at his pistol, with unknown thoughts forming around his mind. Siringo noticed that Mac’s pistol too, had eight shots. Something had the urge to escape his mouth, but he decided it wasn’t worth mentioning.
“It’s just the start of the night, now.” Cornfield said. He started to lay down on the sand with a yawn. “The rest of us should get shut-eye to leave early like we always do. Ms. Strongheart, you’re free to travel with us.”
The young buffalo smiled. “That would be great, actually. I will be prepared the first thing in the morning.”
Before heading into his slumber, Siringo tapped Mac’s shoulder. He still glared at his weapon.
“You okay there, Mac? Need sleep?”
“I’ll get to it.” Mac sighed and holstered his revolver into his gunbelt to remove for the night. As one last thought before heading to sleep, he pondered if Jon Gold was a certain pony in his past.
It felt like the first time in weeks has Mac had a comfortable sleep. The conditions were no better than the rest of the nights, but the looming rocks gave a sense of security rather than sleeping in the plain desert. It was also the first time he hasn’t a dream involving Celerity and his vicious language. Nonetheless, it was a nightmare.
There he was back at Sweet Apple Acres, tucked in his bed at the barnhouse. The moon wasn’t to be seen behind the thick clouds and the only noise to be heard was the wind blowing through and the faint howling of timberwolves.
Then he started to hear it.
The soft steps of hooves lightly creaked on the floorboards outside his room. At first, he thought the hoofsteps were only directed to the door, but then they started to branch off to his parents’ bedroom. He softly sat up in his bed, his heart beating like a bull trampling on a dirt road. There was nothing to see but pitch-black. The slow hoofsteps stopped in front of his door and the door swiveled open with a couple degrees at a time.
A medium-sized stallion stepped one of his hooves inside and bent his head into the room. His eyes seemed to sparkle but his face was covered with what appeared to be a red bandana. The peeking head turned until it met its eyes with Mac’s. Mac’s eyes darted to his pistol, framed on the wall to the left of him, but now it seemed as if his room had expanded a couple yards. The mystery pony moved his whole body into the room and also glared at the pistol. He turned back and shook his head at Mac.
As if on cue, a mare let out a bloodcurdling shriek on the other side of the house along with the shouting of a stallion. It was Mac’s parents.
“Get under the bed, now!” commanded the male voice. “Sons of bitches, a stallion can’t just live the rest of his life in-”
A barrage of gunfire rang from his parents’ room. The red bandana pony maintained eye contact with Mac, paralyzing him on his bed. After what seemed an eternity, the gunfire stopped and the stallion stormed out the bedroom. The hoofsteps from his parents’ room joined with his as they stomped down the stairs.
Then Mac woke up.
.....
Mac felt his hoof connect with the face of Siringo.
“Aaagh! Second time, dammit!”
“Sorry.” he said sheepishly.
“That’s good, now you apologize.”
Marshal Cornfield walked up to them. “So we’re all awake now? Jeez, Mac. You were sleepwalking like a dog. Anyways, we all best be getting on the trail right away.”
“Stallions?” Little Strongheart called. All eyes looked up to the young buffalo stooped on a tall rock. She gave the thousand-mile stare to the West. “I do not think that that would be a good idea at this moment. Marshal Cornfield, if you will.”
With difficulty, Cornfield managed to scale the rock tower to reach Little Strongheart.
“What’s stopping us?”
She didn’t bother to look back at Cornfield. “Look that way.”
“I don’t think I could be wrong, but I have a feeling they mean harm if we are to be in their path.”
“We can’t backtrack out this place.” Cornfield muttered. “At the same time, we won’t stand a chance against all them, if they’re looking for a fight. Siringo, get up here!”
Unlike Cornfield, Siringo climbed the tower with ease. He gave a moment’s stare at the impending herd.
“What’re we gonna do, Siringo?” Cornfield asked.
“Well, what do you think is best, leader?”
“Don’t be a wise-ass. I really need some advice here, dammit!”
“There ain’t much we can do. There has to be fifteen or shit-like ponies out there against six of us. I think I know what we’ll do with this place, though.”
“And what might that be?” Little Strongheart asked.
“Seeing that we’re practically in a maze, we’d best split up.” Siringo turned to Cornfield. “That way, we won’t be vulnerable as one, and we can pick them off slowly. Marshal Star’s gonna be with Stone, you’re sticking with Mac and, well, I’ll watch after her.”
“Don’t think so.” Cornfield said. Siringo blinked, surprised by his somewhat sudden assertion. “I can watch over the miss. You go with Mac, I’d rather have you keeping him alive.”
“Your word, Marshal.” Siringo affirmed, nodding. The herd was halfway there. Little Strongheart went ahead to hop down the rock tower. Siringo began after her but was stopped by Cornfield.
“Siringo?”
“Yeah?”
“I’m scared as hell, man.”
Siringo tried to let out an I-told-you-so chuckle, but also felt empathy. “I know.” he simply said. The two of them then climbed down to regroup. Unlike Star and Stone, Mac appeared to have already been aware of the situation.
Cornfield tried to step up again to tell the news. “Alright now. Out there, are a buncha gang members wanting to take our blood. This clearly didn’t come expected at all, so we’re gonna have to do something as a last resort. I, er, we came up with the plan of splitting up so we won’t easily die as a whole and we can catch them by surprise little by little. You two, Star and Stone, are sticking together. Stone, you better not be flying off this time, hear? You, Mac, is sticking with Siringo and I’m watching over Little Strongheart. Understood? Okay then.”
Marshals Star and Stone went one way into the boulder maze without question. Siringo chose another way off but said one last thing to Cornfield.
“Good luck, Marshal.”
“Thanks.” He and Little Strongheart sprinted off and moved out of eyesight.
Siringo was already walking another way, but noticed Mac still looking over to Cornfield and Strongheart. “Mac, he’s gonna be fine. The both of them will be, just come on!”
…..
Boss Gristle and his gang, with Sharps, stopped in front of the expanding landscape of boulders. Compared to his gang’s dirty, ragged clothing, he wore a vanilla-colored coat with a red bandana tied around his neck.
“Hold up, you ain’t gonna fly up there. You won’t have the same mistake.” Gristle said to Sharps.
“What? That crap had nothing to do with me flying.” Sharps complained.
“Just do what you’re told and stick with me.” Gristle faced his gang. “Y’all know what should be done. Spread out and find the sons of bitches. Make sure our cannon is still working handy.”
With cries of “We’re gonna fuck them up!” to “I’m callin’ the last shot!”, the ponies flooded into the pathways between the rocks.
Following behind, Gristle muttered, “It’s gonna be nice to see him grown up after all these years.”
…..
Mac and Siringo briskly walked wherever the path took them, keeping themselves to the walls of the boulders. If there was a fork, the two of their minds seemed to form as one and always took the same path as the other without hesitation.
“I gotta say, now I’m not so sure this plan’s going to work well.” Siringo said. Gunshots finally went off in the distance and they both stopped, startled. “Ah, shit. Here’s hoping those are in favor of us.”
Immediately, they heard a shout coming from all directions. “Just heard one of ‘em! This way!”
Siringo pulled out his revolver and Mac his rifle. “I reckon this time you won’t be as sparing?”
“Only for these ponies.”
Seven of the Gristle gang members appeared from around the corner. Three of them were Earth Ponies and the other two were Unicorns. They all had their red headgear, as masks or bandanas. As soon as the two parties made eye contact, they raised their guns and aimed for the two.
Mac had to tackle Siringo to get them both behind cover. By inches to centimeters, the bullets whizzed past them and then struck hard on the rock in front of them. Before Siringo could say his thanks, Mac rose up and fired his rifle the instant a gunshot wasn’t heard. He managed to hit one, but the pony still staggered around. Mac immediately ducked into cover, barely getting hit himself as he had his hat shot off the top of his head.
“We’ll take them on at the same time, alright?” Siringo asked. The seven enemies kept relentlessly firing upon their cover to no avail.
Keeping to the the ground, Mac crawled to wear his hat and loaded one bullet into his rifle. “Eeyup.”
At once, Mac jumped to the side and Siringo climbed on top of the rock. Sideways and laying on the ground, Mac was a tricky target and was able to shoot at three ponies. He aimed one in the heart, making the pony step back and trip, screaming in pain. He scored a direct headshot on the second mark, expanding the red color wrapped around his head in a beautiful bloom. Mac shot the foreleg off his third pony and when that one reeled in pain, he fired again at its stomach, dropping it to the ground.
Simultaneously, Siringo killed another two ponies with proficient accuracy. Using the obvious red covering their faces, he easily aimed and fired at them, one shot each.
Now Mac stood up, not at all surprised by his feat. Mac shot at the sixth pony only using his right foreleg this time and that one spun around before falling to the ground. Suddenly, the seventh and last one popped out from his cover. Mac held the rifle again with his two forelegs before realizing it was unloaded. He dropped the rifle and promptly spun his revolver out to snag yet another headshot. Mac turned aside and saw Siringo still aiming at what was supposed to be his last target.
Siringo gave a few moments to reflect on what happened in those thirty seconds. “Well, we’d better get on back to Cornfield and the re-”
Ka-boom! The ground shook beneath them and the path behind them was caved in by rocks collapsing from the walls. The two of them both succumbed to the force and fell.
“The hell?! No way are they using their goddamn cannons! We’re gettin’ over there now!” Siringo dashed ahead of Mac, giving Mac little time to reload and to pick up his rifle off the floor.
Fumbling around, Mac did so and looked up. Siringo was already nowhere in sight. Cursing to himself, Mac ran up the path, past the dead gang members. The rumble of cannonfire trembled again. Struggling to maintain balance, Mac tripped and knocked into a wall head first. Before he knew it, he laid sprawled on the ground and his senses started to black out.
…
Mac woke up after another tremor of the ground. He could hear gunfire echoing not far from where he was. He felt a pony standing above him, mysteriously. As a precaution, Mac reached for his holster. His revolver wasn’t there.
“It’s been far too long, boy. Not that you remember me.” the pony said, chuckling.
Keeping his face down in the dirt, he looked up to see a pony in a vanilla-colored coat. Top Gristle held and inspected his special revolver with a smile. “You know there’s, I think, only two of these to be found in Equestria.”
Mac lifted himself up and stood in front of Gristle above eye level. “That’s mine.” he said.
“Don’t you worry. I won’t be using it. For now, anyways.” Gristle glanced up at Mac and gave a sly smile. “You have grown a great deal, I can say that. Cap would be especially surprised. You have a clue of who I am?”
“Nope.”
“I expected so. You see, I-”
Mac swung a left hook at Gristle right on his jaw, with no desire of taking any more shit. Gristle twirled around and fell on his face, knocked out cold.
“I was on my way somewhere.” Mac said. He could still hear the gunfire nearby. He grabbed his pistol from Top’s unconscious hooves and was on his way.
...
Running and turning through the rock maze left and right, the sound of gunfire was closer and closer. What was that pony acting so special about, he wondered. He dismissed it and continued navigating the maze. Soon enough, Mac even heard Cornfield’s voice.
“Siringo! What the hell are you trying to do!?”
Mac was sure they were just around the corner now. When he looked upon the situation, time slowed down.
Stone and Star were perched atop a boulder on the wall in front of Mac firing upon the rest of the gang members. Little Strongheart was hiding behind a rock right below them and Cornfield was right to her, bending over the rock as if he was trying to reach to Siringo. Siringo stood only fifteen feet away from the cannon causing the ruckus the whole time.
BAM! The cannonball was launched right towards Siringo.
Siringo’s horn glowed and he unleashed a belligerent scream. He caught the cannonball with his magic, shoving him back several inches back as a result.
All eyes gazed at him in astonishment.
Siringo continued to scream and he struggled to take a step forward. The cannonball in mid air spun wildly and caught on fire. As soon as his hoof stomped on the ground, the ball shot back, just as it did from the cannon itself and it caused a fiery explosion, killing the last of the gang members once and for all.
Breathing heavily, Siringo only showed a slight smirk before collapsing in fatigue. Cornfield hurried over to Siringo to check him.
Mac heard the flapping of wings from where he came from. Looking up in the sky, there was Sharps ascending on his flight with Top Gristle.
Star yelled out, “They’re flying away again, the yellow bastards!”
He had to deal with this finally, Mac decided. That, and they were going to spread the word on them, of course. He reached for his rifle, but remembered he forgot to reload it. He thought about Siringo’s carbine as a last resort, and how it has misfired two times already. Screw it, it was going to be worth a try.
Mac raced over to Siringo and grabbed the carbine from his sling and aimed down its sights. Barely visible over the rocks, Sharps and Gristle were further away now.
“Hey,” Siringo panted out. “what are you gonna do...?”
“Third time’s the charm.” Mac held his breath and his hoof pressed down on the trigger.
Bang!
After a second delay, a cloud of red popped out and the two spiraled down the sky. The single bullet pierced Top’s heart and tore off Sharps’s right wing at the same time.
“Damn, today’s been all sorts of miracles.” Cornfield said.
“Marshal Stone.” Mac called. Stone knew what to do and swooped in to pick him up.
…
It was the first time that Mac has been so high up in the air and took a breath of fresh air and relief after a claustrophobic-like experience. He looked down at the river and it appeared just as it was on Siringo’s map. If he was right, they weren’t so far from the Gristles’ Plantation by now.
It didn’t take long to reach the crash site, seeing as it might be only a five minute walk from the rocky landscape. They landed a few yards away before Sharps and Gristle.
“Just stay here.” Mac told Stone. Stone nodded and Mac slowly approached the two.
Top’s corpse laid face down on the hot sand, his whole torso bloodied. A few feet away from him, was a squirming Sharps. His hind right leg was bent in an agonizing way and his left wing helplessly flapped in the sand.
Mac didn’t bother to take a second looking down at Top. He stepped towards Sharps and pulled out his revolver.
“You stay away from me, you fucking hillbilly!” Sharps pitifully crawled away from Mac. “I’m done, just fuckin’ leave me here or something, anything!”
Mac stomped on Sharps’s left hoof, the one that he shot, and stuck the barrel of his revolver on his forehead. Sharps let out an atrocious bitch cry.
“Mac!” Cornfield’s voice called. Mac turned around and the rest of them were somehow already there. “He’s bad as it is. Just let it go, son.”
Mac grimaced, shaking his gun. Glaring at Sharps in the eyes, he forcefully pulled his gun away and stepped off Sharps and walked up to the group. Sharps continued to groan and turn in his blood.
Cornfield looked past Mac to see Top’s lifeless body and whistled in admiration. “So you took down the head of the Gristle gang, did ya?”
“I did?”
“Good news, we’re actually close to the plantation. Where AJ is being held.” Siringo stated. He still looked tired from his magical move.
“That has to be good.” Cornfield said. “I mean, with Top Gristle ‘fficially out of the way, it shouldn’t be so hard to sweep out the rest of his gang and to free any pony we can find over there.”
Siringo shook his head. “It should, actually. Look, there’s going to be five of us and we barely survived back there. I’m betting there’s still around twenty or more out there waiting for old Top to come back.”
“What now, then? Get the rest of my deputies from the north to come there?”
“That’s exactly what.”
“How can you expect me to do that?!”
“Assuming they all ain’t dead out there, all you can do is look for them. I’m sure you had them rendezvous somewhere after their work was done. Did you do that, at all?”
Cornfield sighed. “Nope, but I’m sure they planned it themselves.”
“You’d better find them all soon, then, ‘cause only Mac and I will be going to the plantation ourselves. We'll try to get AJ out there one way or another to leave the rest to you.”
“I can assist you in finding them, Marshal.” Little Strongheart added.
Cornfield noticed Mac straying from the group, looking down the river as he did before. “Siringo, are you sure he’ll be okay?”
“Marshal, he’s survived this long. I’m sure he will.”
Cornfield kept staring at Siringo. “I didn’t mean if he will stay alive.”
“That, I just don’t know. I can’t seem to get him, myself. But, how can I be sure you’ll come back for us?”
“Now that, you’ll just have to trust me on, will you? You used to trusting others?”
“I was. Now will we get going?”
“Sure, we will. Y’all ready, Star and Stone? Miss Strongheart?”
“Always.” Marshal Star said.
“Alright, then. Mac!” Siringo called. “We’re going for your sister. For real, this time.”
Mac just nodded his head and waited for Siringo.
After their short goodbyes, the group split and headed north and west.
