Something moved inside, and he leaned to one side to try and peek through the window. Cardboard had been taped up, covering up all but a silver. Jacob thought he saw a pair of eyes squinting down at him for a second, even as something rustled inside.
He knocked again, then listened closely. Maybe pony hearing was that much better, or maybe the people inside just weren’t as quiet as they thought they were. “The kid isn’t leaving.”
“We can’t just leave her out there.” His insides twisted at that, but of course he wasn’t going to protest now. He was dressed like a small child.
“Could be a trap. You see anyone lurking around the porch?”
“Trap for what?” That was Michelle’s voice, a little louder and clearly dismissive. “If someone wanted to cause trouble, why not use the window? We’d make the same amount of noise either way.”
The door swung open, and Jacob was suddenly looking up into the familiar face of his older sister. She towered over him now, over twice the height and apparently much older. Light spilled out of the apartment, though it seemed a barricade had been built just inside, a barricade of toppled couches and tables. She was wearing a disposable surgical mask across her face and plastic gloves on her hands.
Michelle rested one hand on the door, ready to close it at a moment’s notice, the other hand not-so-casually holding her 9mm Smith & Wesson Shield, not aimed at Jacob but also only a few inches too low. “Kid, you shouldn’t be out after dark, especially now. What are you doing here?”
Jacob moved very slowly, doing nothing that might be misconstrued for drawing a weapon. He was, after all, no earth pony. If Michelle shot him, that would be that.
“I have a delivery from Jacob,” he said, moving very slowly as he drew out a reflective Blu-ray case, offering it up to her with both hands.
“What?” Michelle didn’t lower the gun, but she did let go of the door, bracing it open with her body instead, so that she had a hand to take the case. Her eyes got wider. “The… HD remaster of Manos Hands of Fate?” She gestured inside. “Come in, kid. It’s not safe at night.”
Jacob stepped inside without resistance, tugging at the edge of his hood. It wasn’t easy to remove—concealing a horn had taken a great deal of preparation, and he hadn’t exactly put the outfit together with the intention of easily removing it. “Don’t take your masks off,” he muttered, as he fumbled with the hood. “Some ponies tried to rob me at the river bridge. I can’t be infected, but I might be carrying for another few hours.”
They hadn’t started taking their masks off, but all the same he could see suspicion on their faces, particularly the two girls he didn’t recognize. Only Michelle had a gun, though the others had makeshift weapons of their own—a kitchen knife in one case, and a can of mace in the other.
He got the hood off, pulling his hair and horn free. Michelle gasped, openly staring. There was no confusing his bright red hair or gold eyes for the person he had been, unfortunately. Maybe four months ago, when he had only started to change, but… little of that person was left.
“What are you? Who are you? Why are you here?”
Jacob shifted nervously between his hooves, wringing his hands together. There was something more than a little intimidating about being alone with three armed, strong-looking humans. “You, uh… you won’t believe most of the answers.”
Michelle set the movie down. “Tell us anyway.”
He took a deep breath, leaning a little against the door behind him for strength. “You guys got hit with the bioterror thing here, didn’t you?”
Michelle nodded. “Pine Creek High. Some of the students and staff had spread it pretty far before the police cracked down on everyone.” She lowered the weapon, clicking on the safety before tucking it away in her waistband. “Wait, if you didn’t know that… how’d you get into town? Was the quarantine lifted?”
In answer, Jacob concentrated on the space next to him, focusing his magic. He hadn’t used any since the mission started, which helped. Magic demanded to be used. The teleportation across such a short distance was easy—no difficult sympathetic connections need be drawn when he could see the destination.
“I skipped the quarantine.” He vanished in a flash, reappearing with a little rush of air almost instantly. He was breathing a little heavier, but that was all. All three of them stared—the brunette with a kitchen knife dropped her weapon in shock. Overt magic was difficult for humans to see. Considering Sunset’s weapon might change them far faster than he could, Jacob wasn’t too worried about exposure. “Mich, imagine someone had… a natural immunity to the weapon. Imagine they’d been exposed… nine and a half months ago, let’s say. Imagine you used to call them ‘pipsqueak’. Imagine they’d been sending you the worst movies ever since, just so you’d know they were still alive.” He sniffed, and tears started streaming down his cheeks.
Jacob wasn’t about to stop now, and kept on even though his voice started to crack. “Imagine he’s been hiding all this time, afraid that the ones who hurt him might want to hurt you too, but now it’s too late and you’re the only one who could help. Imagine—”
He didn’t get any further. Jacob nearly fell over as something warm lifted him from his hooves with a gasp, in a hug he hadn’t felt for months but remembered perfectly anyway. The same hug that had comforted him when he had actually been a child, and Michelle had taken care of him when their parents only swore or threw empty liquor bottles.
“Jacob?”
He nodded, hugging her back. It didn’t matter that he couldn’t feel the floor anymore, or that they were betraying Sunset, or that they might be hunted and killed by the Light Tenders before they made it back to Imperium. For a few moments at least, he felt safe.
“Sorry it took so long, sis. Until… until recently, I was afraid you’d be hurt if I said anything…”
She put him down, glaring. “I’d like to see anyone try, pipsqueak.”
Jacob wanted to tell her everything, the way he might’ve done for one of his parents if he’d still had any. He didn’t.
“I don’t know how much you know about what’s really going on…”
“As much as anyone.” One of her roomates, the girl without a weapon anymore, hopped over the barricade. Like Michelle and her companion, she was dressed in dark, practical fabric, with a mask over her face and gloves on her hands. “Nobody’s said anything since the president’s official statement. Everything’s still closed. FEMA’s giving out food, but how long can that last?”
Michelle nodded. “You don’t look like you resisted very well, Jacob. You’re, what, three feet tall? And that voice…”
He glared up at her. “It took a long time to get this bad, okay? It starts with being able to do magic… and that’s not why I’m here.” Danielle and Jackie were still hiding outside the apartment. They were two of the most capable ponies he knew, more than a match for any lowlife that happened to notice them. “Mich, can you fly a Gulfstream G650?”
She seemed taken aback. “I, uh…” She nodded. “That’s one of the more popular long-range private jets. Our fleet had six of them when I was…” she trailed off. “Why?”
“It’s why I came. My friends and I… let’s just say we know a lot more about what’s going on than you do.”
“Which you’ve come to explain in detail, I expect.”
He looked away. “We could explain it on the way. But the important thing is that we want to stop the pon— the people who are attacking people. We know how to do it, but we need a pilot.”
Michelle turned away, hopping over the barricade. “Let me get my flight bag.”
Jacob hurried over to the edge, though he couldn’t quite see over it, let alone have any hope of climbing it. “It’s gonna be dangerous! Really dangerous! If we get caught, we’ll be in the worst prison ever!” Assuming they don’t just shoot us down.
But worrying about how they would actually fly out of a country whose air traffic was likely monitored if not entirely grounded was a subject out of his expertise. The ponies had used human aircraft all over the US and managed to stay hidden somehow. Presumably they could use those same methods. Hopefully Harley knew them.
Michelle emerged another minute later with a black canvas bag over one shoulder and a dark jacket over her tank-top. “Don’t care. Do you think I need my gun?”
“Yes.” He didn’t even pause. “We were attacked getting here. We still have to get to the airfield.”
“Michelle, are you crazy?” The other girl, the one who still had her weapon, sounded more than a little nervous. “You’re going off into the night on the word of some freak…”
“Yes.” Michelle’s voice was cold. “I am. And don’t call him that.”
“I won’t be for much longer,” Jacob offered, smiling weakly as he fumbled with the hood. This was the reaction he had expected from Michelle. Never in his life had she not been willing to drop everything to help him, no matter how serious the situation might be. “Where we’re going might have a cure. If we can find it, I’ll be myself again.”
“If that isn’t a good reason, I don’t know what is.” Michelle hopped the barrier again, landing a foot in front of him. “Do you need anything before we leave?”
“No.” He shook his head. “But you should probably grab cold-weather gear, now that I think about it. We’re flying to Greenland.”
A few minutes later and they were outside. Jacob had hidden his head and face again in the fabric, though his own work was far and away inferior from the work Harley had done back in Imperium. Michelle had a large duffel instead of the canvas bag, though it still didn’t slow her down. She had always been the athletic one, and the strong one, and the confident one too.
Jackie and Danni emerged from the bushes as soon as the door shut behind them. Jackie didn’t have her gun drawn, for which Jacob was immensely grateful. “Hey Jacob, is this…”
“My sister, Michelle. Michelle, this is Jackie and Danielle.”
“Hey,” Danni waved weakly with one hoof.
“Pleasure.” Jackie didn’t shake her hand. She was already holding a radio, of the black industrial variety with an antenna longer than it was. “Hart, come in. We got the sister, over.”
A few seconds of static came over the line, then Harley’s voice. “Good work, Squeak. We secured a vehicle, where can we meet you?”
Jacob leaned closer, gesturing for Jackie to press transmit. She did. “If you remember where we got my first friend, we could meet you there. It’s really close.”
Jackie looked like she wanted to stop him, but quickly relaxed. As soon as she let go of the button, he added, “I know people could be listening! I’m not stupid!”
Jackie rolled her eyes. “No, but you’re trusting. Most ponies are.”
The radio barked again. “We can do that. Will have to travel more slowly, patrols passing through town. Will call you if we’re coming hot. Let us know if you’re seen. Out.”
Jackie turned down the volume a little, pocketing the radio. “Well? I assume you know where you told her to go.”
“Yeah.” He started walking back to the trail, though thankfully they would be traveling the other direction. “This way.”
Jackie drew her gun again, and Michelle quickly did the same, eyes alert. Probably not as good as Jackie, but… at least they had another set of eyes that could see through the dark. “Hey… Jackie, you seem human,” Michelle said, her voice a whisper. “Aren’t you worried your pony friend with infect you? I’ve got extra masks if you don’t have any.”
“No.” Jackie didn’t meet her eyes. “I’m not as human as I seem. There are wings in this backpack I’m wearing. It’s… mostly hollow.”
“Oh.” She shook her head in wonder. “Why isn’t the news talking about immunity? For that matter… Jacob, if you’ve got some resistance, shouldn’t I have it too? We are related.” She reached for her mask with her free hand.
“No!” He jerked, his voice a little louder than he meant. It echoed off the trees in the quiet, making him feel even smaller than he really was. “It doesn’t work like that, sis. It’s a learned immunity. You’ll pick it up if you’re around us long enough, but you haven’t been yet. Danielle probably isn’t carrying it, but she did beat the crap out of some ponies who did…”
“That makes no sense.” All the same, she lowered her hand. “But this whole horse thing makes no sense. Wasn’t your nerd club about little horses?”
“You best start believing in pony stories,” he muttered. “You’re in one.”
“No.” Michelle gestured with the gun, though she never actually pointed it at him. “I’ll crash the plane. I’ll do it, don’t think I won’t.”