//------------------------------// // 29 - Trail, Part 7 of 10 // Story: The Last Cutie Mark Crusader // by Jatheus //------------------------------// Sparklefly found herself staring down the drain, lost in thought as the cool water flooded across her mane. She became hypnotized by the motion of the water as it cascaded down her body and into the bottom, seeking the lowest point and finally swirling away like a small whirlpool. It transfixed her for what seemed minutes, her mind wandering to no place in particular. She considered everything they had observed in the past days as the drain swallowed hungrily everything that came at it. A spark shot through the mare’s mind that made her shiver. Water comes in, water goes out. The farms... the farms! Sparklefly was so elated with her thoughts that she scrambled to get out of the shower, forgetting to turn it off. She slipped, banging her head against the wall as she caught herself. It throbbed painfully, and she rubbed at it. She put on her eye patch and grabbed a towel, but didn't take time to dry off as she ran out into the hotel room. "It's the farms!" she exclaimed, wrapped in a towel and dripping everywhere. The other two looked up, Flittergear tilting her head inquisitively. "You're soaking the carpet," Charging Lance said as he glanced at her. Shaking her head, Sparklefly took a step forward and continued, "The farms here are way too big." She was so excited that she found herself stammering, "They produce too much food for the population. If we get reports on what they're exporting, I'll bet it's way less than it should be!" Charging Lance sat up and spoke thoughtfully, "We'd have to see that report, but that isn't necessarily conclusive." "No, but if they aren't eating all of the food, what are they doing with it?" Sparklefly asked. The three sat in silence. Only the sound of Sparklefly dripping on the carpet could be heard for nearly a minute. A quiet voice, frail as a whisper of a fluttering breeze came from Flittergear as she spoke, "They're feeding it to the changelings." The expression on Charging Lance's face became stern. "Feeding it to the changelings," he repeated. It was only a moment later that a loud bang startled Sparklefly, and the other two sprang onto their hooves. Something had crashed into the door. Sparklefly whirled around in time to see the lock turning from the other side. "I'm sorry," Flittergear said. "They were listening." Sparklefly dashed forward, slamming her body into the door just as it was opening. She put her weight against it, holding the door shut. It was being pushed against her, forcefully. She was losing ground and somepony reached a fore-leg around to get in when Charging Lance slammed against it with his full force. The intruder who had reached in howled in pain as his fore-leg was caught between the door and the frame. "Flares!" Charging Lance called out. Sparklefly nodded and left him with the door, his massive strength holding it shut as their assailants slammed into it again and again, splintering the frame. Flittergear had already found a flare gun, and she was arriving at the window. Sparklefly was suddenly overwhelmed by a feeling of dread knotting up her stomach. Charging across the room, she threw Flittergear down just as she had opened the curtains, causing the flare to discharge into the wall with a loud hiss. Another moment, and she would have been too late; deadly bolts of magic ripped through the screen and window, shredding the curtains, and impacted into the ceiling, slicing through the air where Flittergear had just been standing. Shards of glass rained down on top of them; the larger pieces were caught in the curtains. The flare burned bright and hot in the wall. The look on Flittergear’s face was apologetic. "It's fine!" Sparklefly called back. Staying low, she worked her way around the bed, deafened by the pounding on the door, and found the other two flare guns. She tossed them over the bed to Flittergear, who aimed and fired through the destroyed window. Smoke began seeping from the curtain that the first flare had stricken. Another bang against the door came as Sparklefly made it back to help hold it shut. "Flares away!" she yelled when she heard the second flare fire. "Good! Help with the door!" Charging Lance cried out. "What do you need?" "Bedframe!" Sparklefly ran back to the bed and flipped it up. While Flittergear put the mattress in front of the window, Sparklefly turned the metal frame on its side and pushed it into the narrow hallway against the door. "Got it?" Charging Lance asked. "Yeah!" she yelled back. Pushing all of her weight against the bed frame, she held the door against the pounding from the outside while Charging Lance got free. Together they pushed the frame in farther and managed to wedge it into the tiny hallway. "That's not going to hold," Sparklefly said doubtfully. "No," was all Charging Lance replied. Flittergear gave Sparklefly her knife and crossbow from the bag. She felt better to be armed, but the knowledge of being trapped had her more than a little worried. More magical fire tore through the mattress, ripping holes in it and filling the air with fluff from the bed’s innards, finally knocking it over. "Well, they haven't shot through the door yet," Sparklefly said. "Get back," Charging Lance said. "Cover the door." The mares moved around the corner and stayed low. The stallion crept to the window once the incoming fire had stopped. Crossbow loaded, he popped up, aimed, fired, and dropped back to the floor in a single fluid movement. Sparklefly could hear shouting outside. "You got one," she said. "At least three more," he replied without looking back as he reloaded. A crash against the door dislodged the bed-frame. Sparklefly was on it before any ground was lost, and Flittergear helped her hold it in place. Smoke began to fill the room as the flare caught the curtains on fire. The three began coughing as the air was choked from their lungs. "Push left and hold!" Flittergear cried out. Sparklefly pushed the bed-frame left against the wall. Flittergear shimmied between the makeshift barricade and into the bathroom. She returned a moment later with a towel that was soaked through. The twang of Charging Lance's crossbow was followed by a howl of pain from outside. More magical shots impacted, exploding into the ceiling, spraying plaster about the room. Flittergear was able to pull down the curtains and smother the fire, but the air was still thick with black smoke that made it hard to see and harder to breathe. "Any chance we can get out the window?" Sparklefly yelled back. Charging Lance shot her a look that denied the possibility with absolute certainty. The mares again braced the door, holding against the pounding from outside. The wooden door was beginning to disintegrate in front of them. Sparklefly wondered if Scootaloo was coming. Maybe nopony had seen the flares. Maybe it was going to take them too long to arrive. "I'm out!" Charging Lance yelled as he fired his last bolt. Flittergear tossed her quiver to him. That meant they only had fourteen shots left. While the possibility of death in combat had always been something that Sparklefly took seriously, she couldn't remember being in many situations that had seemed quite this dangerous. ‘Is this how I'm going to die?’ Where was Scootaloo?